The day before the Longevity Festival, Ling Qiyan went out again, invited to a banquet.

The king of that small southwestern country had been fawning over Ling Qiyan these past few days, and had successfully entered his good graces. Originally a very inconspicuous delegation, they were now, thanks to the favor of Prince Yu, enjoying unparalleled prominence in the State Guesthouse.

Of course, the main reason was the troupe of beautiful courtesans they had brought with them. They were as lovely as celestial fairies, skilled in both singing and dancing, and so exceptionally outstanding that probably no man could see them and not be pleased. In any case, Ling Qiyan liked them very much.

At the banquet, the scruffy-bearded king got drunk. His face was flushed red, and he slurred his words as he flattered Ling Qiyan, "Your Highness, what do you think of these girls? Do you think His Majesty, the old man, will like them if they are presented to him? Have you taken a fancy to any of them yourself? If you have, I won't send her to His Majesty. I'll send her directly to your manor."

This man didn't have much ability; he was just the ruler of a small place in the southwest who depended on the Great Cheng Dynasty to live a peaceful and stable life. He had come to Shangjing City in person this time, bringing so many carefully selected beauties, for the sole purpose of presenting them to the Great Cheng Emperor and the powerful nobles of the capital to gain some benefits for his country.

Ling Qiyan propped his head up with one hand and poured wine into his mouth. His gaze slid over the faces of the girls one by one. He had come to watch them rehearse their dances every day for the past several days, so he was naturally well aware of the man's intentions.

He raised his hand and beckoned to the lead dancer, the most stunningly beautiful of them all. The girl walked forward barefoot and knelt before him to pour his wine, her gaze toward him exceptionally ardent.

Ling Qiyan's lips curled slightly as he asked her with a smile, "Do you want to be His Majesty's consort?"

The girl looked at him intently. "This servant wishes to serve Your Highness."

"Truly?"

"This servant likes Your Highness."

Ling Qiyan laughed. "What's the point of serving this prince? If you're going to serve someone, you should serve His Majesty. Who knows, if His Majesty takes a liking to you, he might even grant you the title of consort."

The girl bit her lip, a waver in her eyes. When she looked at Ling Qiyan, there was still a hint of reluctance.

Ling Qiyan's finger hooked a loose strand of her long hair and wound it around his fingertip. "Be good. There's no future in following this prince. One should always aim higher."

"This servant is clumsy. I'm afraid His Majesty won't like me."

"You are beautiful, you dance well, and you speak the Great Cheng tongue well. His Majesty won't dislike you. When you present your dance before His Majesty tomorrow, look at him just like this. Be bolder, don't be shy. Remember to smile more. His Majesty likes the scent of haitang flowers. Tonight, take a bath with those flowers and perfume the clothes you'll wear tomorrow with them as well. He is certain to like it."

The girl listened in a daze. Ling Qiyan's gaze was so gentle and affectionate, and the way he spoke to her was like a lover's whisper. He was so handsome, like a banished immortal. She truly wanted to be with him.

Ling Qiyan caressed her face again. "Go on."

The drunken king leaned over. "Your Highness, if you truly like her, then keep her. As for His Majesty, it's all the same if we send someone else."

Ling Qiyan shook his head with a smile and swirled the wine cup in his hand. "Who do you take His Majesty for? What kind of beauty has His Majesty not seen? If she isn't the most beautiful one, on what grounds could she capture His Majesty's eye?"

Hearing this, the other man became a little worried. "Then will His Majesty truly take a liking to her?"

"He will. Just tell her to do as this prince said. This prince would never deceive you."

Ling Qiyan said this with a light laugh and continued to pour wine into his mouth.

Others might not know, but he had once heard the Empress Dowager muttering to an old palace maid that when his father was young, he fell in love with the legitimate daughter of the Marquis Zhenbei's Manor and would marry no one but her. That young lady was said to be the number one beauty of Shangjing City at the time, a true national beauty of unparalleled allure. She loved haitang flowers the most, and his father, loving her and everything connected to her, planted an entire courtyard of haitang trees in his own residence for her sake.

At that time, when his father was choosing a consort, the final choice was between Lady Shen and that young lady. The one who actually chose the young lady was not the Empress Dowager, but his father himself. Unfortunately, that young lady was ill-fated. Two months before the wedding, the Marquis Zhenbei's Manor was convicted of crimes related to a military campaign. All the men of the family were executed, and the women were all made into official slaves. His father was leading troops in Mobei at the time. By the time he received the news and rushed back, the Marquis Zhenbei's Manor had already fallen, and the young lady had vanished without a trace.

Only after that did his father marry Lady Shen. It seemed Lady Shen knew about this past affair. Ever since his father ascended the throne and she became the Empress, the planting of haitang trees was forbidden in the palace. Even objects with haitang flower motifs were not allowed to appear before her eyes.

But Ling Qiyan was determined to vex her.

The Empress Dowager had said that the young lady from the Marquis Zhenbei's Manor was direct, passionate, and loved to laugh, unlike the other high-born ladies from deep-seated mansions, who were all constrained by rules and burdened by rigid dogmas, as if cast from the same mold.

Since his father liked that type, he would send him a similar substitute. As long as it made the Empress unhappy, he would be happy.

At the end of the you hour, dusk was falling.

Wen Ying appeared outside the State Guesthouse and was stopped. He stated calmly, "I am from Prince Yu's Manor, here to escort Prince Yu back to the manor. The palace has sent someone to the manor with a message. Prince Yu must return."

Bluffed by his few words, the guards did not dare to be negligent and led him inside, toward the quarters where the southwestern delegation was staying.

Before he even entered the courtyard, he could hear the sounds of strings and woodwinds, a thoroughly decadent music.

Wen Ying strode in and saw at a glance the thoroughly drunk Ling Qiyan, lying in the arms of a beautiful courtesan, his clothes in disarray, laughing and flirting with her in a dissolute manner.

No one noticed Wen Ying until he approached Ling Qiyan.

Ling Qiyan was holding the girl's hand and whispering something in her ear. Only then did he notice someone else was present. He looked up dazedly at Wen Ying, who was looking down at him with a face as grim as still water. After a long moment, his eyelashes fluttered slowly, and he mumbled, "Poor scholar, what are you doing here? Come drink with this prince."

Ling Qiyan reached out a hand toward Wen Ying. Wen Ying squatted down and glanced indifferently at the courtesan who had been holding Ling Qiyan. The girl lowered her head and discreetly withdrew.

Ling Qiyan was somewhat confused. "Where are you going? Why did you run away? This prince hasn't had enough to drink yet..."

Wen Ying asked him in a cold voice, "Does Your Highness know what time it is?"

Ling Qiyan said unhappily, "This prince doesn't care what time it is. This prince wants to drink."

"Tomorrow is the Longevity Festival. If Your Highness gets dead drunk here and then sleeps like the dead, what do you plan to do if you miss offering birthday wishes and gifts to His Majesty tomorrow?"

"Impossible," Ling Qiyan waved his hand impatiently. "This prince knows what he's doing. You don't need to meddle."

Wen Ying said no more. He reached out and directly swept the man up into a bridal carry. Ling Qiyan struggled and pushed at him, but he was too drunk and no match for Wen Ying's strength. The monarch came over and tried to stop him, but Wen Ying ignored him, striding away with Ling Qiyan in his arms.

Jiang Lin hurried to catch up with a few young eunuchs. Wen Ying placed Ling Qiyan in the carriage, then turned and shot them a cold look, reminding Jiang Lin, "Eunuch Jiang, you are His Highness's head eunuch. His Highness is willful, but shouldn't you know to advise him more? What kind of place is this State Guesthouse? For His Highness to come here to drink with people time and again, and to get into such a state—wouldn't it invite gossip if word got out?"

Jiang Lin was at a loss for words. Nominally, this man was a retainer of Prince Yu's Manor, but in reality, he was just a plaything the Prince had brought back on a whim. Yet, being stared at and lectured by Wen Ying like this, he inexplicably felt a sense of pressure. By the time he wanted to argue, Wen Ying was already inside the carriage with Ling Qiyan, and the door had been closed.

Ling Qiyan would not keep still. He pressed against Wen Ying's chest, twisting restlessly and muttering curses.

"Poor scholar, stinking scholar, a fox borrowing the tiger's might, you only know how to put on airs in front of this prince."

"This prince hates you. You're not allowed to speak to this prince with that coffin face."

"This prince will drink with whomever this prince wants to drink with, and favor whomever this prince wants to favor. What right do you have to control this prince?"

Wen Ying remained silent, his arm around Ling Qiyan's waist. No matter what he said, he did not respond.

Back at the manor, after carrying Ling Qiyan to his room, Wen Ying called for hot water and attended to his changing and washing.

Ling Qiyan clutched the front of Wen Ying's robes, squinting at him, and continued the tirade he hadn't finished in the carriage. "What do you think you are? You have some nerve, daring to treat this prince like this. This prince will have you chopped to pieces..."

Wen Ying covered his face with a hot towel. Ling Qiyan whimpered twice. When the towel was removed, his eyes were red, and he was even angrier. "Take off your clothes and attend to this prince in bed. This prince doesn't want to wait anymore. I'm having you tonight. Someone! Bring this prince that good stuff!"

A servant brought in a small white porcelain jar carved with exquisite patterns and placed it by the bed.

Jiang Lin led the other servants to tactfully withdraw, closing the room's door for them.

Ling Qiyan picked up the object, removed the lid, and held it out for Wen Ying to see. It was a white, fragrant ointment. "Smell it, isn't it fragrant? This is a top-grade secret formula from the Imperial Medical Hall. A good thing to bring you pleasure. This prince specially had someone procure it."

Ling Qiyan smiled smugly, then set the jar down and moved closer to Wen Ying. He blew softly at him and let his hands roam wantonly over his chest.

Wen Ying did not move. The flames of the candles were reflected in his dark, deep-set eyes. He allowed Ling Qiyan to struggle to undo his sash and pull his robes apart.

When Ling Qiyan pushed him down onto the bed, he merely placed his hands on Ling Qiyan's waist to steady him, but he did not stop him.

Ling Qiyan crawled on top of Wen Ying, rubbing his head against his neck, his wet lips kissing his throat.

Wen Ying lay back on the bed, staring blankly at the beams above. Ling Qiyan clung to him, nuzzling against him with an urgent yet clumsy lack of method. For a moment, his mind went blank.

When he was first brought before Ling Qiyan, he had never imagined that he would one day truly be entangled with this spoiled, willful, and arrogant Prince Yu.

He was doing the very thing he had once scorned the most, but he didn't want to stop.

Even if he had nothing, at this moment, the one who could hold Ling Qiyan in his arms was him.

Ling Qiyan's kisses had already moved up to the side of Wen Ying's face, leaving one wet mark after another. He didn't even know how to kiss properly, only how to lick at Wen Ying like a kitten. It seemed reading all those absurdly erotic pamphlets had been for nothing.

A moment later, Wen Ying locked his arms around Ling Qiyan's waist, rolled over with him in his arms, and forcefully pinned him underneath. He seized his chin with one hand and kissed him fiercely.