At those words, both men were startled. Their eyes widened as they stared at each other in astonishment.
An embrace—warm and peaceful, making one instinctively want to remain there forever. “I thought you would never take this step.”
No emotion could be heard, no ripple detected, nor could Ning Xuan understand the suppression, restraint, and countless fleeting feelings contained within those words.
It was never a question of whether I was willing to take this step. That choice was taken out of my hands long ago.
“The march through the frontier was bitterly cold. I doubt any of you had time to observe the occasion.” Only then did Ning Xuan notice the food box Feng Xuanzhe had been carrying all along—a sandalwood brocade box entirely at odds with his status. Feng Xuanzhe opened the lid, took out a small white porcelain bowl decorated with glazed flowers, and held it before Ning Xuan. “Laba porridge. You surely didn’t have the chance to eat any. A new cook came to the residence recently who is quite skilled at making stuffed sausages, so I specially ordered him to add more. Taste it and see whether it suits you.”
It was always like this—tiny, trivial details, one after another. He lowered his exalted status and attended to everything with meticulous care. Was Ning Xuan cold? Was he thirsty? Did he have enough clothing? Was he accustomed to the food? Were the servants attending him satisfactorily? It was as though Feng Xuanzhe held Ning Xuan’s every movement close to his heart, as though Ning Xuan lived at its very tip…
Ning Xuan had clearly offered no response, had not even shown him a pleasant expression. Why would Feng Xuanzhe not give up? Why would he not leave? Why would he not allow Ning Xuan to conduct himself according to his original wishes, his original position, and his original self? Why did he repeatedly insist upon challenging Ning Xuan’s limits? Why would he not simply leave Ning Xuan to live or die on his own?
Ning Xuan accepted the porcelain bowl, and several crystalline droplets fell. Feng Xuanzhe did not ask about them. As though nothing had happened, he turned to arrange the food box upon the table, taking out the side dishes one by one. Before Ning Xuan had left the prince’s residence, the two of them had shared the same bed and seen each other every day, yet barely exchanged a few sentences. Now they behaved like old friends reunited after a long separation, chatting about daily matters, the wind, and the moon.
Had Ning Xuan grown accustomed to the frontier? Had the battlefield been frightening? Had official life gone smoothly? Had anyone made things difficult for him or attempted to harm him? Had he eaten properly? Was he accustomed to his lodgings? Had he been injured?
Every conversation and every question revolved around Ning Xuan. The concern and worry within them required no explanation. If this were merely a deception, merely a performance, then it was far too real and deeply acted—and there was no reason Feng Xuanzhe needed to perform it at all.
On one side were concern and care, meticulous protection and patient waiting. On the other were silence, complete indifference and disregard, as though Ning Xuan were an unfamiliar stranger. How could he choose between them? The answer appeared obvious at a glance.
“Why are you so good to me? Why are you so persistent?” This was the only time Ning Xuan had ever lost control before Feng Xuanzhe. He wanted a reason, an answer, because he could not understand what qualifications or worth someone as lowly and insignificant as himself—someone who would vanish instantly if thrown into a crowd—could possibly possess.
“Why can’t I love you? Why can’t I be persistent about you?” Feng Xuanzhe answered with questions of his own. He did not yield or retreat in the slightest, yet neither was there any sharp aggression in his voice.
So I was the one asking the question, yet I was also the one unable to provide an answer…
With Emperor Huawen personally granting him a residence and lands, Ning Xuan could now be considered the head of his own household. At the very least, he no longer had any obligation to return to Prince Yi’s Residence.
Although he had returned in triumph, he was still covered in the dust and exhaustion of travel. Feng Xuanzhe did not wish to disturb his rest and intended to take his leave early. Before departing, however, he did not forget to demand proper compensation to relieve the torment of missing him for so many days.
Ning Xuan no longer resisted, nor did he continue his silent form of defiance—lying there like a corpse. Like dry firewood meeting an open flame, they ignited at the slightest touch. A kiss that had begun as light as a dragonfly skimming water became stained with desire. Their tentative rubbing grew increasingly frantic. Hot, heavy breaths beat against each other’s faces, while their entwined tongues pursued and tangled wildly, greedily seeking the other’s breath, sliding over pearly teeth and tasting the roof of the mouth. Four lips pressed together, biting and devouring, as though both were impatient to tear the other apart and swallow him whole. Silver threads they had no time to swallow slipped from the corners of their tightly joined lips, glistening wetly as they trailed downward and gathered in the delicate, pale hollow of Ning Xuan’s collarbone, like a small overturned bowl resting between his shoulders and neck.
His sash was torn loose and his robe disordered. Even though the heated flooring warmed the room like spring, his exposed skin still trembled the moment it met the air. As though worshiping him, as though cherishing him, Feng Xuanzhe desperately restrained the loss of control and brutality within himself. Gentle kisses fell densely across Ning Xuan’s skin, leaving behind one faint-red mark after another.
Ning Xuan’s phoenix eyes were hazy, mist gathering within them, yet he understood perfectly clearly what he was doing, what the consequences would be, and what he would face in the future—just as he knew perfectly well that the person kissing him now was Feng Xuanzhe, not Feng Xuanyi.
There was none of the trembling excitement, madness, dependence, or obsession he had felt with Feng Xuanyi, but at least Ning Xuan did not resent, reject, or dislike Feng Xuanzhe. People eventually grew. They had to learn compromise and concession between ideals and reality. Nothing in the world could satisfy both sides, nor was such perfection ever possible. Perhaps this seemed selfish now, but one fact could not be denied: between loving and being loved, the one who was loved was naturally far happier and calmer, and suffered far less heartache…
Ning Xuan had loved before, so he understood how great a distance one had to cross to continue loving. He was also loved, and therefore knew how effortless it could be to retain the affection of someone who loved him. Humans were emotional, but even more so, they were rational. Since he knew that distant shore was forever beyond his reach, and knew that Feng Xuanyi could never give him what he desired, why should he continue entangling himself so painfully? Why cling so tightly and refuse to let go? Even if the person Ning Xuan loved most in his heart was not Feng Xuanzhe, at least he was willing to love him—to attempt to love him…
The moisture gathering at the corners of his eyes might have come from the trembling of his body, or perhaps because the time had come when he had no choice but to say farewell. He bit his lips tightly, stubbornly refusing for some unknown reason to release even the slightest moan.
Feng Xuanzhe’s fingers slipped beneath the open hem of Ning Xuan’s undergarment and traveled upward along the firm, supple line of his waist. Watching his slightly darker fingers appear and disappear beneath the parted robe as they rubbed and kneaded the tender-red buds upon Ning Xuan’s chest, Feng Xuanzhe’s eyes instantly deepened, and even his breathing grew much heavier.
“Mm!” Ning Xuan’s eyes flew open. The waves of tingling pleasure caused by another person wantonly kneading the sensitive flesh upon his chest made an uncontrollable moan escape him. Their overlapping silhouettes blurred before his eyes, and for one fleeting instant, he almost imagined that the person above him was Feng Xuanyi…
Pain stabbed through his heart. His instinctive struggle and attempt to push Feng Xuanzhe away instantly chilled the desire-heated air.
Feng Xuanzhe, who had been about to lower his head for another kiss, abruptly froze. Every movement seemed to solidify in an instant. A ripple flashed through the depths of his eyes as though he were desperately suppressing something. He drew several slow, deep breaths to calm his surging desire, closed Ning Xuan’s parted robe, then bent down and gathered him into a gentle embrace. “I was too impatient.”
He placed a kiss beside Ning Xuan’s temple and rose, only for Ning Xuan to catch the edge of his sleeve. They stared silently at each other, neither speaking.
Feng Xuanzhe smiled gently, like a spring breeze brushing across the face, though Ning Xuan could clearly see the desire still churning in his eyes. He raised a hand and soothingly stroked Ning Xuan’s long hair. “You’ve traveled for so many days and must be tired. Sleep early. I’m recording today’s debt, though. Remember to repay me.”
The teasing remark eased much of the tension between them. Ning Xuan watched Feng Xuanzhe straighten his robe and leave, a trace of bitterness appearing at the corners of his lips.
Futile Devices Scans 
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