After the summer solstice, the dog days arrived, bringing increasingly unbearable heat. Ling Qiyan couldn't stand staying in his manor and went to his private villa in the mountains to escape the heat, taking Wen Ying, who was cooped up in his room studying every day, with him.

Wen Ying was the same as always. He went to Ling Qiyan's courtyard in the morning to pay his respects, then accompanied him for dinner in the evening, spending over two hours with Ling Qiyan before returning to his own quarters to continue studying by lamplight.

When with him, Ling Qiyan was sometimes doting and affectionate, and at other times, when his mood was spoiled, he would curse and even get physical.

Of course, he never hit his face.

It was just that Prince Yu's desire to drag the man into his bed had never been fulfilled.

Ling Qiyan spent most of his days sleeping. When he was awake, he would listen to music, drink tea, or go riding at the racecourse. His days passed in extraordinary idleness.

A few days later, Zhang Yuan, Liu Qingxi, and their gang came again. Ling Qiyan had sent for them. Playing with these people wasn't actually very interesting, but Ling Qiyan was simply too bored.

When this group of dandies came to the villa, they did nothing but indulge in pleasure, debauchery, and wine. They always played the same old games.

During this time, Ling Qiyan called Wen Ying over to drink with him. Everyone was already used to seeing him by Prince Yu's side.

Later, Ling Qiyan drank too much and got a headache. He clung to Wen Ying, insisting that he accompany him back to his room. Amidst the playful and teasing smiles of the others, Wen Ying calmly rose and supported the dead-drunk Prince Yu as they left.

Kneeling before the couch, Wen Ying used a hot towel to wipe Ling Qiyan's face. Ling Qiyan didn't want anyone else to serve him, clinging only to him.

The drunkard kept falling forward onto Wen Ying, his warm, alcohol-scented breath right by Wen Ying's ear. Wen Ying pinched the back of his neck to pull him away a little, but the groggily drunk Ling Qiyan just pressed back against him.

"You poor scholar, this prince fancies you. Let this prince favor you, and this prince will give you all sorts of good things."

Ling Qiyan spouted nonsense, his bare feet, freed from shoes and socks, treading and rubbing on Wen Ying's thigh until Wen Ying, unable to bear it any longer, seized them.

The feel of them was smooth, slick, and cool. Even this part of the lofty Prince Yu felt as tender as tofu.

When Wen Ying's rubbing hit the sensitive arch of his foot, Ling Qiyan couldn't take it, panting and whimpering, "What are you doing? You're offending your superior. How audacious..."

Wen Ying ignored him, continuing to squeeze with one hand while wiping his face with the other.

Ling Qiyan grabbed Wen Ying's wrist and guided his hand up from his own ankle, past his calf, to his thigh, all the way to the top of his leg, commanding him softly, "Here, rub this prince here too."

Wen Ying ignored him and pulled his hand away.

"How can you be like this..."

Ling Qiyan got angry, but he was completely limp. Forget hitting someone, he didn't even have the strength to curse. He could only glare at Wen Ying with shimmering eyes. His beautiful peach-blossom eyes were slightly upturned at the corners, tinged with red, as if smudged with rouge.

Wen Ying lightly patted the back of his hand. "Your Highness is drunk. You should sleep, or you'll have a headache later tonight."

"This prince isn't sleeping. You'll play chess with this prince," Ling Qiyan commanded fiercely.

"That will have to wait until this student goes back to change his clothes. Doesn't Your Highness find the smell unpleasant?"

Earlier, when he was helping Ling Qiyan back, he had been vomited on. Hearing this, Ling Qiyan wrinkled his nose and said disdainfully, "Then get lost. Change your clothes and get back here."

Wen Ying took his leave from Ling Qiyan's courtyard and walked towards his own quarters, lantern in hand, without asking anyone to follow.

Night had already fallen deep. Only the main courtyard and the area where the dandies were amusing themselves were brightly lit. The farther he walked towards the remote areas, the less light there was.

Wen Ying needed quiet to study during the day, so the courtyard Ling Qiyan had arranged for him was in the most remote northwest corner of the villa, next to the back mountain.

Just before entering his gate, Wen Ying caught a glimpse of what looked like entangled figures entering the mountain forest ahead. His expression paused for a moment. He silently extinguished his lantern and followed.

In the mountain forest, hidden by a thick tree trunk, Wen Ying listened to a live erotic show.

The man was Liu Qingxi. The woman was likely a maid from Prince Yu's Manor; he had seen her by Ling Qiyan's side before, a second-rank maid.

Although Ling Qiyan allowed these dandies to seek pleasure in his villa, he surely wouldn't let them touch people from his manor without his permission.

So the two were having an affair, and afraid of being discovered, they had chosen this pitch-black mountain forest for a tryst.

Wen Ying waited for a full half-hour before the two finished. Still not satisfied, they embraced and spoke intimately. Liu Qingxi called out all sorts of endearments, "You little vixen, you finally agreed to be with this young master today. What, have you given up on the idea of being taken in by His Highness?"

The woman huffed lightly and giggled coquettishly, "His Highness... he can't perform. Didn't you all guess that long ago? He took that poor scholar into his manor, but who's getting the better end of the deal is still uncertain. If this servant doesn't give up hope, I'll become an old maid. Young Master Liu, you promised you would marry this servant."

Liu Qingxi laughed. "Don't worry. In a little while, I'll find an excuse to ask His Highness for you. Since you come from His Highness's manor, you'll be at least a noble concubine."

The woman was very happy to hear this. After another bout of intimacy with Liu Qingxi, she said she was afraid delaying any longer would arouse suspicion on His Highness's side, so she left first. She tidied her clothes and hurried away.

Liu Qingxi waited a while longer. After confirming the maid was far away, he slowly ambled down the mountain. Before he was out of the forest, an arm suddenly wrapped around his neck, choking him. Just as he was about to shout, his mouth was covered.

Wen Ying dragged Liu Qingxi to the edge of a cliff. Below was a deep lake.

Wen Ying grabbed Liu Qingxi by the hair and forced him to kneel at the cliff's edge. He trembled uncontrollably, his face flushed crimson. He wanted to scream, but was too terrified; his open mouth could only emit gurgling sounds. He struggled desperately to break free from Wen Ying's grasp but was no match for his strength.

Liu Qingxi strained to lift his head and met Wen Ying's cold and vicious eyes. His own eyes widened abruptly, filled with incredulous terror. "It's you! Let... let go..."

Wen Ying tugged his hair, pinning him down, and asked in a cold voice, "How did Zhao Xi die?"

A flicker of guilt flashed through Liu Qingxi's eyes. Panting and trembling, he said, "I... I don't know, I don't..."

Wen Ying pushed him outward.

"Don't push me! I'll talk, I'll talk! He was... he was forced... by the Heir of Duke Wei, and... and a few of his followers, and then thrown... thrown into the lake..."

Wen Ying's pupils constricted violently. Rage and killing intent roiled in his eyes. Liu Qingxi was already streaming with tears, begging him to spare him, incoherently saying that he wasn't one of the people who had forced themselves on Zhao Xi, nor was he the one who threw Zhao Xi into the lake. He had only helped those people clean up the mess.

"The Heir of Duke Wei's followers, which ones?"

Liu Qingxi mumbled a few names, all sons of noble families.

"You said you only helped them clean up?"

Wen Ying's icy voice was completely flat. His other hand was already on Liu Qingxi's neck, his fingers resting on his vital artery.

Liu Qingxi trembled like a sieve. "Yes... the Heir ordered it. That boy kept crying, and the Heir was afraid... afraid the matter would be exposed, so he wanted to deal with him. I... I just took some people to throw... throw him in the lake. I wasn't the one who did it, it really wasn't me..."

Wen Ying didn't listen to his excuses. He calmly stared at the terrified and utterly loathsome face before him, as if contemplating something.

He knew this man couldn't swim.

This man threw Zhao Xi into a lake. For him to avenge Zhao Xi by throwing this man into a lake... it was fair, wasn't it?

A mountain breeze suddenly gusted. Wen Ying released his grip and gave a light push. The sound of a heavy object hitting the water quickly came from below the cliff.

He stood expressionlessly at the cliff's edge for a moment, closed his eyes, then turned and left.

On his way down the mountain, he even picked up the long-extinguished lantern that had been dropped in the woods, erasing all possible traces.

He returned to his quarters, changed his clothes, washed his hands, and went back to the main courtyard.

Ling Qiyan was already asleep, leaning against the couch. Wen Ying waited for a moment. Seeing no sign of Ling Qiyan waking, he was about to leave when Ling Qiyan mumbled "Mmm" in his sleep and slowly opened his eyes.

The eunuch beside him handed him some warm water. Ling Qiyan drank half a cup to soothe his throat and looked at Wen Ying with hazy eyes. "Where did you run off to? Why did changing your clothes take so long? This prince waited for you for a long time."

"This student went to the latrine and also took a bath, which caused a delay," Wen Ying answered calmly.

Ling Qiyan was drunk, his mind a muddle. He didn't press the matter further and told Wen Ying to sit down and play chess with him.

But although he said they were playing chess, he didn't behave himself. He constantly harassed Wen Ying, hooking his finger to scratch his palm or touching the leg resting at his side.

Wen Ying remained composed throughout, concentrating on the game, holding a chess piece as he contemplated his next move.

Seeing that he wasn't getting a reaction, Ling Qiyan grew angry again. He pushed the chessboard aside, scrambled onto Wen Ying, and sat on his lap.

Pushed by Ling Qiyan, Wen Ying leaned back against the couch, silently watching the drunkard before him.

Ling Qiyan sat on Wen Ying's body, squirming restlessly, his fingers hooking and unhooking his lapel. "Tell me, were you really a monk in your past life? How can you be so dense?"

Ling Qiyan was heavily drunk. The jade hairpin holding his hair had come loose at some point, and his long, black hair cascaded down, further accentuating his jade-like beauty and graceful elegance. His drunken eyes held an indescribable charm, and his shimmering gaze silently captivated the heart. Wen Ying stared intently, his throat bobbing unconsciously.

"Your Highness..."

Ling Qiyan had already pulled open the lapels of Wen Ying's robe, tugging the fabric off one of his shoulders. He lowered his head and nuzzled against it, first touching it with his lips, then biting down hard.

Wen Ying closed his eyes and let him bite. He recalled what the maid had said in the forest earlier, and his fingers slid to Ling Qiyan's waist, giving it a light squeeze.

There was clearly a reaction. Wen Ying felt it distinctly. He himself was reacting too but was trying his utmost to endure.

Having bitten his fill, Ling Qiyan finally released him with a flourish. He looked with satisfaction at the deep red teeth marks on Wen Ying's shoulder, then leaned close to his ear and coaxed, "Just for tonight, how about you submit to this prince?"

Wen Ying looked at him. Their eyes met. The distance between them was too close; even their breaths seemed to mingle.

Ling Qiyan blinked slowly, staring at Wen Ying.

Wen Ying held him and sat up. Before Ling Qiyan could react, he had already flipped him over and pinned him to the couch, planting his hands on either side of Ling Qiyan's body. Ling Qiyan seemed confused, still looking at him without averting his gaze.

Wen Ying's eyes darkened, his breathing grew slightly heavier, and he slowly lowered his body.

A moment later, he released Ling Qiyan, got off the couch, and knelt on the floor. His voice returned to its usual calmness. "It's very late. Your Highness should rest. This student should also be returning."

While Ling Qiyan was still stunned, Wen Ying had already stood up, bowed, and started backing away. Just as he turned to walk out the door, Ling Qiyan finally came to his senses, picked up a shoe by the couch, and hurled it fiercely at Wen Ying's back.

Wen Ying turned his head. Ling Qiyan's eyes were red with anger as he glared at him. Wen Ying didn't stop, walking out the door and leaving.

The sound of porcelain shattering on the floor came from behind him, but Wen Ying acted as if he hadn't heard. He walked back into the pitch-black night, not a single ripple disturbing his dark, heavy eyes.