In the evening, Ling Qiyan went to the cold pool in the manor to bathe.

Wen Ying went with him. Ling Qiyan mostly ignored him, but did not let him leave.

A dozen eunuchs and maids attended to Ling Qiyan. All the utensils were inlaid with gold and jade, and even the cloths for wiping his body were made of silk and brocade, the height of extravagance.

Wen Ying did not look much, remaining silent.

The thin robes were removed from Ling Qiyan's body. His skin was as white and smooth as cream, with a wasp waist, narrow hips, and long, straight legs. Although he still had the figure of a youth, his arms, chest, and abdomen were covered with a thin layer of muscle, so he did not appear gaunt or weak.

In a fleeting glance, Wen Ying's eyes swept over the undulating lines of his waist and hips, pausing slightly.

Ling Qiyan had already stepped into the pool. Leaning against the wall, he sat down, glanced sideways at Wen Ying, and lifted his chin. "You, come over here and scrub this prince's back."

Wen Ying walked forward, knelt behind Ling Qiyan, took the silk cloth handed over by a eunuch, wet it, and began to rub and press Ling Qiyan's back with a moderate pressure.

Ling Qiyan narrowed his eyes in comfort. It was likely Wen Ying's first time doing this; he had no technique and was far less skilled than the eunuchs. But the places where his palm passed over the cloth felt as if they had been seared by fire, searing Ling Qiyan with an unbearable itch in his heart.

He wanted to drink again.

Ling Qiyan gave a look, and Jiang Lin immediately understood, sending a maid away to bring fine wine. Ling Qiyan took the wine pot, tilted his head back, and poured the wine into his mouth. The spilled wine trickled down from the corner of his lips, slid across his gracefully lined neck, and disappeared into the pool water.

Wen Ying glanced up at him, the pressure of his hands unconsciously increasing.

Ling Qiyan turned around, draping himself over the edge of the pool. He tapped his fingers on the wine pot, a lazy smile gracing his lips as he looked at Wen Ying. "Since you're unwilling to be this prince's bed guest, how about drinking with this prince?"

Wen Ying silently took the wine pot, poured a large mouthful directly into his mouth, then raised his hand and wiped his lips forcefully with the back of it.

A flicker of light passed through Ling Qiyan's eyes, the smile within them deepening. He asked casually, "Since you want to be this prince's retainer, yet you study at the Imperial Academy every day, this prince can't even see you. What use is a retainer like you?"

Without waiting for Wen Ying's reply, Ling Qiyan propped up his chin in thought and said, "Why don't you come live at this prince's manor? My residence is not far from the Imperial Academy. This way, you can also avoid the entanglement of all that riffraff."

Even his own cousin, in the mouth of His Highness, Prince Yu, had become "riffraff," as if he held the other party in no regard at all.

Wen Ying calmly accepted and thanked him for his grace, "Many thanks for Your Highness's favor."

Ling Qiyan was very satisfied with his perceptiveness. He moved his index and middle fingers forward alternately, tapped on Wen Ying's wrist, and then lightly tickled his palm.

Wen Ying impassively withdrew his hand, holding the cloth and continuing to rub Ling Qiyan's arm.

Ling Qiyan smiled, not bothering to argue with him further.

After Ling Qiyan finished bathing, Wen Ying changed into a fresh set of clean clothes and followed him to the banquet.

Those dandies had been carousing all day and were now all drunk, becoming even more dissolute. Besides the few students from the Imperial Academy, they had also summoned beautiful courtesans and male entertainers from the brothels to accompany them. The sounds of string and wind instruments, coquettish laughter, and soft voices filled the air with decadent music.

Ling Qiyan sat back in the host's seat. Two beautiful courtesans came to lean against him, one on each side, feeding him wine and peeling grapes. Ling Qiyan drank half a cup of wine from the hand of one of them, his gaze shifting to Wen Ying, who was kneeling to the side. He planted a kiss on the courtesan's cheek and reminded her with a smile, "Go pour wine for this Master Scholar."

The courtesan obediently complied. Her delicate, soft body leaned toward Wen Ying as she poured wine for him with a sweet smile, "Master Scholar, this servant toasts you."

Wen Ying did not accept it. He shifted away without a trace and said coolly, "I am but a mere scholar. I am not worthy of being called 'Master' by the young lady."

The other courtesan, nestled in Ling Qiyan's arms, giggled coquettishly, "Your Highness, this Master Scholar is giving no face at all."

Ling Qiyan snorted lightly. "That's just his disposition."

As he spoke, Ling Qiyan slowly rolled his eyes in thought. He then summoned a young male entertainer with a face as beautiful as a woman's, pointed at Wen Ying, and gestured for the young man, "Go drink with him."

The young male entertainer moved close to Wen Ying's side, but before he could even touch his hand, he was rudely waved away by Wen Ying.

Wen Ying's voice was a bit colder and harder. "There is no need. Your Highness may enjoy them yourself. This student is not fortunate enough to indulge in such things."

Ling Qiyan swirled the wine cup in his hand, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "Are you not giving this prince face?"

Wen Ying lowered his gaze, shuffled forward a step on his knees, drew closer to Ling Qiyan, and poured him wine.

Gazing at the full cup of wine presented before him, some of the coldness on Ling Qiyan's face receded. He smiled again, pushed away the courtesan still lingering in his arms, took the cup, and stared straight at Wen Ying with his peach blossom eyes as he tilted his head back and drank the wine.

After three rounds of drinks, Zhang Yuan leaned over and told Ling Qiyan with a smile that the courtesans had prepared a new dance, asking if he wanted to see it.

Ling Qiyan gave a noncommittal "mm," and the sound of drums and music began.

The alluring courtesans began to dance to the music, their light gauze and thin robes swaying gracefully. Waves of faint fragrance wafted over, and the crowd of dandies was utterly mesmerized, each one flushed red from drinking, lost in a drunken stupor.

Ling Qiyan was leaning back, the lapels of his robe pulled wide open. His face was also flushed, his long, thick eyelashes trembling slightly. His eyes shimmered and were as seductive as silk. Only he himself did not realize that he was even more stunningly beautiful than the gracefully dancing lovely ladies.

Wen Ying would occasionally raise his eyes to look at him, then shift his gaze away without a trace.

When the banquet ended and the wine flowed freely, the dandies, each with a lovely lady or a handsome young man—or even some of the students from the Imperial Academy—in their arms, went off to private rooms to continue their merrymaking.

Before leaving, Zhang Yuan leaned close to Ling Qiyan's ear and reminded him that the lead dancer from before was the top courtesan of Xiulan Courtyard, and a virgin at that, specially reserved for His Highness's pleasure.

Although he himself wasn't sure if His Highness would be willing to have her, the best always had to be reserved for Ling Qiyan.

As for Wen Ying, he was intentionally or unintentionally ignored by everyone.

The flower hall, previously filled with song, dance, and music, was now devoid of the noisy drunkards and had returned to a quiet state. Ling Qiyan did not leave; he was still drinking. Wen Ying did not move either, still kneeling by his side to serve him.

Only the top courtesan who had been specially left behind was a little anxious and ill at ease. She hesitated before coming forward, kneeling down on Ling Qiyan's other side and picking up the wine pot.

Ling Qiyan took hold of her delicate hand and squeezed it gently. He squinted as he sized her up. After a moment, he raised his hand, his fingers slowly stroking the woman's fair cheek.

The courtesan kept her head lowered, not moving a muscle, revealing a stretch of her fair, slender neck. She seemed slightly nervous.

Ling Qiyan leaned in closer and took a deep sniff near her neck. A light, faint fragrance lingered at the tip of his nose.

The woman said in a soft voice, "Your Highness, ...this servant will serve you."

Her hands moved toward Ling Qiyan's chest, but before they could touch him, Ling Qiyan suddenly pressed her shoulders and forcefully pushed her away.

Caught off guard, the woman fell. Ling Qiyan's expression had already turned cold. "Leave. You are not needed here."

Jiang Lin immediately waved his hand, and two young eunuchs came up and deftly helped the courtesan away.

Ling Qiyan rose, flicked his sleeves, and left.

Wen Ying followed him back to his room. Ling Qiyan shot him a cold, sidelong glance and said sarcastically, "Weren't you unwilling to get into this prince's bed? Why are you following this prince so closely now?"

Wen Ying kept his eyes down, his expression faint. "Your Highness did not permit this student to leave, so this student dares not go."

The word 'scram' reached Ling Qiyan's lips, but he held it back.

He flopped onto the couch and gestured to Wen Ying. "This prince's back is sore. Come over here and give this prince a massage."

Wen Ying walked to the side of the couch and sat down, placing his large hands on Ling Qiyan's waist through the silk brocade tunic.

His technique was much more refined than when he was scrubbing his back earlier. The pent-up frustration and anger in Ling Qiyan's heart gradually subsided. The drunkenness returned, and he closed his eyes, relaxing his mind, feeling exceptionally lazy and weary.

The tender flesh of his waist was the most sensitive area. Touched by the pads of Wen Ying's fingers, Ling Qiyan's body gradually softened. Still feeling it wasn't enough, he licked his lips, let out a soft "mmph," grabbed Wen Ying's hand, and slid it under his robes, pressing it flesh-to-flesh against his lower back.

The slick, smooth sensation was all too real. Wen Ying's eyes darkened slightly. He said nothing, dutifully serving the high and mighty, overbearing His Highness, Prince Yu.

Ling Qiyan was the first to break the silence. With his eyes closed, he asked, "It's one thing that you refuse to serve this prince with your body, but when this prince sends people to serve you, why do you refuse them too?"

"This student is not fortunate enough to indulge."

It was still the same stiff reply. Ling Qiyan sneered, "In front of this prince, you are the first person to be so unappreciative of favor, so ignorant of what's good for you."

Wen Ying did not reply.

Ling Qiyan seemed to have gotten used to it. He had clearly only met this person today and had been angered by him several times. According to his usual temper, he should have had him dragged away long ago.

But somehow, he found this Wen Ying extremely interesting. Although his feigned aloof and untamable appearance was truly detestable, the more Wen Ying acted this way, the more he wanted to rip off his disguise and see him one day submit beneath him, wagging his tail and begging for mercy.

He just wondered what a person like this boy would be like in bed.

Ling Qiyan couldn't help but let his imagination run wild. His cheeks grew redder, and the tingling, itching sensation on his lower back where he was being touched was even more intense than during his bath.

He discovered that his body was burning hot, and that place down there was faintly showing signs of rising.

Ling Qiyan's eyes snapped open, his expression completely changed.

He had lived for sixteen years. Although he was dissolute and unrestrained by nature, this was the first time that place had reacted. In the past, no matter how beautiful the ladies or handsome the men he faced, he had never truly been with anyone. It wasn't that he didn't want to, ... it was that he couldn't.

This was a hidden difficulty that no one knew of except for Jiang Lin and the few others who served him personally. Zhang Yuan and the others only thought he was picky and a clean freak. They tried all sorts of ways to send people to him, but none could catch his eye. Even if they had their private suspicions and murmured amongst themselves, they never dared to actually say it in front of Ling Qiyan.

This matter had always been a thorn in Ling Qiyan's side. But today, at this very moment, because of Wen Ying's touch, he tasted desire for the first time in his life.

Ling Qiyan turned his head to look at Wen Ying, the corners of his eyes red, his gaze exceptionally feverish. Wen Ying stopped his hands and quietly returned his look.

Ling Qiyan grabbed onto Wen Ying's arm, his voice ambiguously seductive, "Are you really unwilling to submit to this prince? Whatever you want, this prince will give it to you."

Wen Ying calmly pushed his hand away. "Your Highness is drunk."

Ling Qiyan ground his teeth, angry again. "If this prince insists on having you, do you really think you can resist?"

"I cannot resist, but for Your Highness, if this student does not cooperate, you will find no pleasure in it. Why must Your Highness insist?"

Their eyes met. There was not a hint of concession in Wen Ying's gaze. After a moment, Ling Qiyan closed his eyes and squeezed out a single word through gritted teeth: "Scram."