Near the end of the Chou hour, Wen Ying arrived outside the Examination Hall in a carriage from Prince Yu's Manor. The place was already bustling with people. Examinees gathered in groups of twos and threes, speaking softly from time to time, but most were silent, harboring nervousness and hope as they waited for the main gates of the Examination Hall to open.

Wen Ying got out of the carriage, took the examination basket from a young servant, and double-checked his examination ticket. He stood by the carriage, cleared his mind, and closed his eyes to rest.

Remembering what Ling Qiyan had said as he fell asleep, 'Do well on the exam tomorrow,' his mind relaxed even more.

At the Yin hour, the main gates of the Examination Hall swung open, and bailiffs came out to begin calling names.

The examinees went forward one by one to be inspected.

When it was Wen Ying's turn, he calmly walked up and handed over his examination ticket. The bailiff checked the features recorded on the ticket, studied his face for a moment, then told him to unfasten his clothes and looked at the blood-red mole on his chest. After inspecting his shoes, socks, and hair, he finally gave his examination basket a brief look-over, handed him the cell number tag, and let him in.

With Prince Yu's prior arrangements, sure enough, no one gave him any trouble. The examination cell was also located in the best spot. Sitting inside, he could look up and see the autumn osmanthus swaying in the courtyard wind—undoubtedly a good omen.

However, Wen Ying was in no mood to appreciate this. He entered the cell, put down his things, first covered the roof with felt, and then hung an oilcloth as a curtain to block the autumn chill. Only then did he sit down, take out some snacks, and eat a few bites along with some hot water he had requested from the supervising soldier.

The snacks had all been made by the manor's chef at the Zi hour on Ling Qiyan's orders, so they were perfectly fresh. Thinking of that spoiled and unreasonable, yet sometimes exceptionally considerate and indulgent, and exceedingly lovable Prince Yu, a hint of softness appeared in Wen Ying's expression. He took large bites of the snacks and finished them.

At the Chen hour, after the examiner made his rounds, the supervising soldiers began to distribute the exam papers. The ink on the freshly unsealed papers was not yet completely dry. Wen Ying took his copy but didn't rush to look at the questions. He closed his eyes, his mind in a slight daze.

'I must achieve a high rank. I have to climb higher. I have to stand in a position high enough for that person to truly see me.'

When he opened his eyes again, Wen Ying's gaze was calm once more. With a settled mind, he unfolded the exam paper.

When Ling Qiyan woke up, he didn't see Wen Ying, who punctually came to pay his respects first thing every morning. He thought for a moment before remembering that the poor scholar had an exam today.

Eating breakfast alone and distractedly, Ling Qiyan felt extremely bored.

It seemed like it had been many days since he'd had this much leisure time, so much that it made him feel empty.

'I wonder how that poor scholar is doing right now. He must be scribbling away at his essay, right? Tsk, it really pays to be born into a good family.'

As Ling Qiyan's mind wandered, he thought that if it were him, he would get a headache just from seeing those large characters. He detested writing exam essays the most, and he probably would never have had a chance to get ahead through the imperial examinations in this lifetime. Fortunately, he was born into a good family.

After Ling Qiyan finished breakfast, Jiang Lin brought him a few newly received invitation cards. They were all from the State Guesthouse. Most of the foreign envoys had not yet left and had been trying all sorts of ways to invite Ling Qiyan, with new tricks every day.

Ling Qiyan was listless. After yesterday's incident, he had lost all interest in going out to fool around with these people. He waved his hand dismissively, "This prince is tired. Decline them all."

Jiang Lin meekly agreed.

In the afternoon, while Ling Qiyan was listening to music and sunbathing in the courtyard, the gatekeeper came to report that the young prince of the Cilie Tribe, Jiang Rong, was seeking an audience.

Ling Qiyan let him in. After paying his respects, Jiang Rong proceeded to apologize for yesterday's matter.

Even though Ling Qiyan had specifically told him not to dwell on it, the man still came in person to apologize to him again.

Ling Qiyan interrupted him nonchalantly, "Enough. This prince was careless. You were just being used by someone; it has nothing to do with you."

"Thank you for your magnanimity, Your Highness."

After exchanging a few words, Ling Qiyan casually asked, "His Majesty summoned you to the palace yesterday. What did he ask you?"

Jiang Rong explained in detail. The Emperor had naturally asked about his father and brother colluding with the Balindun people. He told the Emperor everything he knew. The Emperor's intention was likely to first issue an edict to question his father, the Khan. If his father was willing to admit his guilt and send troops to rescue the small tribes occupied by Balindun, there was still room for maneuver. Otherwise, once the Great Cheng Dynasty dispatched troops, the matter could not be resolved peacefully.

As for Jiang Rong himself, he repeatedly expressed his loyalty to the Emperor, saying he would write to persuade his father and brother. If they remained obstinate, he was willing to go on campaign with the Great Cheng army to personally lead a punitive expedition against them and the Balindun people.

Hearing this, Ling Qiyan tapped his fingers, thinking to himself that his Imperial Father was indeed reluctant to send troops. It made sense. Ever since several old generals retired due to age, there were few great commanders in the Great Cheng Dynasty capable of leading a war, aside from his fifth uncle, Prince Jing. Prince Jing was garrisoned at the Northwest border. If his attention was diverted east to the Cilie Tribe, not to mention the long journey, it was likely the Balindun people would exploit the opening in the Northwest.

However, Ling Qiyu probably hoped the court would dispatch troops directly. Just as Wen Ying had said, he wanted to seize the opportunity to plant his own people in the army and gain military power.

...In his dreams.

Their Imperial Father had relied on the military power in his hands to defeat his brothers and ascend the throne, so he was especially sensitive about this matter. Ling Qiyu was already the Crown Prince, yet he was still not satisfied and harbored such great ambition. With just a little provocation, their Imperial Father would truly start to resent him.

Thinking this, Ling Qiyan couldn't help but feel that the poor scholar had indeed given him a good idea. Although he had no desire for the throne, he was more than happy to see Ling Qiyu suffer.

Seeing Ling Qiyan suddenly space out mid-conversation, a smile even appearing on his lips, Jiang Rong's gaze paused for a moment. He called out softly, "...Your Highness."

Ling Qiyan came back to his senses and asked, "In that case, won't you have to stay in the capital for a while longer?"

"Yes, His Majesty asked me to stay. We must wait and see my father the Khan's reaction to the court's edict before making a decision."

Jiang Rong didn't say it explicitly, but Ling Qiyan understood perfectly. His Imperial Father intended to keep the man as a hostage. However, since this man had come specifically to report his father and brother, and they, in turn, had chosen to rebel while he was in the capital, it was likely neither side cared for their supposed bonds of father and son or brothers.

"Your Highness, during this time, would it still be possible to invite you to a banquet?"

Ling Qiyan said with a serious face, "This prince needs to cultivate his character, or I will displease His Majesty again. I will not be going out for the time being. You should also come to my manor as little as possible. If people see us getting close, it might reflect poorly on you with His Majesty."

Jiang Rong nodded, hesitated for a moment, and then said, "Your Highness, if I am truly able to take the Khan's throne one day, I will be sure to follow your lead."

Ling Qiyan frowned. "Why would you follow my lead? This prince is neither the Emperor nor the Crown Prince. You can say such things in my manor, but don't repeat them outside. If word gets out, both you and this prince will be in trouble."

Hearing this, Jiang Rong was slightly confused. "Your Highness, you are the Emperor's eldest legitimate son. According to the ancestral rules and rites of the Great Cheng Dynasty, you should be the Crown Prince of the Eastern Palace..."

"Stop," Ling Qiyan interrupted, unable to bear it. Why was there another person trying to tempt him into fighting for the throne? "This has nothing to do with you. Control your tongue. Don't ask what you shouldn't ask, and especially don't say what you shouldn't say."

Seeing the solemnity in Ling Qiyan's expression, Jiang Rong knew he had misspoken and didn't dare mention it again. He changed the subject, "In any case, if Your Highness ever needs me in the future, you have only to ask. I am willing to serve you with all my strength."

Ling Qiyan gave a casual reply. He felt the man's attitude was a bit strange, but since he seemed to bear no ill will, Ling Qiyan couldn't be bothered to think more on it. He let the man stay for a cup of tea before ordering someone to see him out of the manor.

As night fell, Ling Qiyan sat cross-legged on the couch, half-heartedly arranging pieces on a chessboard. He felt utterly bored.

Jiang Lin sidled up, wiggling his eyebrows, and asked, "Your Highness, shall I find someone to come and play with you?"

"What's fun about that?" Ling Qiyan pouted. After a moment's thought, he tossed aside the chess piece, coughed lightly, and ordered, "Go fetch those albums. This prince wishes to see them."

Jiang Lin accepted the order and brought over Ling Qiyan's treasured erotic albums with both hands. It was a complete set of several volumes, all painted by the best court painters, commissioned at great expense.

Ling Qiyan used to enjoy pulling these out at night to look at from time to time. On several occasions, he even summoned people to kneel and wait outside, saying he would let them in to serve him once he was aroused. But every time, he would end up passing out, completely unresponsive, the album falling on his face. And that was how the poor scholar, Wen Ying, ended up benefiting so easily.

Ling Qiyan had Jiang Lin put the items down and waved his hand, signaling for him and the others to withdraw, as he didn't need them standing around in the room.

The servants filed out of the room. Ling Qiyan climbed under his covers and, by the dim light of a single lamp beside the bed, began to look at his treasured albums.

In the past, he had mostly looked at the ones depicting men and women. Now, after flipping through just two pages, he found it utterly boring and tossed it out of the bed curtains.

He then picked up an album of male romance and flipped to a page. His gaze fell upon the burly, well-built man in the painting. He studied it for a long while, thinking that the man in the picture wasn't as handsome as that poor scholar, and even his body wasn't as nice to look at. 'So boring.'

Even so, he continued to flip through it, page by page. The sensual images gradually made his face flush red. In his hazy mind, scenes from that night inevitably surfaced: the poor scholar's gaze filled with desire, his rough, low pants beside his ear, the powerful grip around his waist...

Ling Qiyan shrank under the covers, tossed the album aside, and his hand moved downwards.

A quarter of an hour later, Ling Qiyan threw off the covers, gasping for breath. He stared blankly for a long while, then rolled back and forth on the bed a couple of times, growing ever more irritated and frustrated.

He could feel something, but it still wasn't enough. Like this, it just felt like something was missing.

He lay sprawled on the bed, staring at the ceiling beams for a moment. Then, Ling Qiyan once again retreated under the covers. This time, he squeezed his eyes shut and, with a trembling hand, reached behind him.

An hour later, Ling Qiyan sat dazedly in the steaming bath. Jiang Lin poked his head in and asked if he should have someone come in to attend to him. Ling Qiyan answered him with a "Get lost."

Jiang Lin retreated again, muttering to himself. 'His Highness managed to take care of himself, didn't he? Why is he still so unhappy? He even seems angrier.'

Ling Qiyan buried his head in the water, blowing bubbles. A monstrous wave of anger and helpless shame churned within him. 'How could this be, how could this be, how could this be!'

It's all that damned poor scholar's fault, that stinking scholar!!!

For the rest of the night, Ling Qiyan couldn't sleep. He lay back in bed, staring wide-eyed until dawn.

The entire next day, Ling Qiyan's spirits were even more listless. He couldn't muster the energy for anything. Though all the servants did their utmost to cheer him up, he wouldn't even crack a smile. He was drowsy all day. If they hadn't known for a fact that no one had attended His Highness last night, someone might have suspected some little vixen had drained him of his vital essence to leave him so lethargic.

More than physical exhaustion, Ling Qiyan felt an even greater sense of unease, sinking into self-loathing.

In the middle of the night, huddled under the covers and still unable to sleep, he fumbled with himself for a long time to no effect. His hand reached behind him again.

Half an hour later, Ling Qiyan was lying face down on the bedding, panting softly, unable to come back to his senses for a long time.

Hearing a noise, Jiang Lin carefully pushed the door open and entered, only to see Ling Qiyan sitting on the edge of the bed, tearing up the albums, his expression utterly twisted and ugly.

Jiang Lin jumped in fright and called out cautiously, "Your... Your Highness..."

Ling Qiyan looked up, his beautiful peach-blossom eyes red-rimmed and looking as if they were about to overflow. They glistened under the lamplight, making him look as if he had been terribly wronged.

"Your Highness... what's wrong?"

"These albums are all lies! What use does this prince have for them?"

Ling Qiyan tore at the albums in his hands as if venting, grinding his teeth in hatred, as though he were tearing into someone's flesh and blood.

Jiang Lin's teeth ached just from watching, but he didn't dare to say anything. He even asked, "Your Highness, be careful not to hurt your hands. Shall this servant help you?"

Ling Qiyan shot him a cold glance, threw everything in his hands to the ground, and waved his hand, ordering coldly, "Pick them up, take them outside, and burn them in a brazier."

Jiang Lin hurriedly complied.

Ling Qiyan fell back onto the bed and closed his eyes. The image of Wen Ying's bland, coffin-like face appeared before him, and his anger instantly burned even hotter.

'He looks so pure and aloof, but in reality, he's the most despicable, utterly shameless man! If it weren't for that beast, how could I have become like this!'