The Empress Dowager originally wanted to have Ling Qiyan stay in the palace for two days, but Ling Qiyan couldn't sit still. That evening, after having dinner, he left the palace and returned to his manor.

Wen Ying heard of his return and came over to pay his respects.

When he entered, Ling Qiyan was lying prone on the couch, groaning listlessly. Wen Ying noticed the mark on his face at a glance. His gaze shifted as he asked, "Your Highness, how did your face get injured?"

"I was hit by a tigress," Ling Qiyan said irritably.

"Her Majesty, the Empress, hit you?"

"Who else could it be? Ever since we were young, she would beat this Prince every other day for the sake of that bastard second brother. Now she even raises her hand for her nephew. Forget it, let's not talk about it."

Seeing him lying there motionless, Wen Ying couldn't help but frown. "Are there other injuries on your body?"

Hearing his tone, Ling Qiyan beckoned with a finger, a mischievous smile on his face. "Feeling sorry for this Prince?"

"Has medicine been applied?"

Seeing Wen Ying still wore that coffin-like expression, Ling Qiyan felt it was no fun and pouted. "It was applied in the palace. You've come at the right time. Change the medicine for this Prince."

As Ling Qiyan spoke, he stretched out his arms, looking as if he completely expected Wen Ying to undress him.

Wen Ying's hand rested on his waist, giving it a light squeeze before slowly helping him untie his belt.

Ling Qiyan's fair, bare shoulders and back were gradually revealed. His sharp, prominent butterfly bones, the slight protrusion of his spine at the nape of his neck, which then dipped down along his back, extending to the curve of his waist and hips, formed a perfect arc.

Only, the red lash mark that stretched diagonally across his back was excessively jarring to the eye.

The pad of Wen Ying's finger traced over it. Ling Qiyan closed his eyes and flinched slightly.

"Does it hurt?"

Wen Ying's voice was low and hoarse, faintly tinged with some indescribable emotion.

Ling Qiyan didn't notice and said nonchalantly, "This Prince dodged. I was just grazed by the wind of the whip."

Just being grazed by the whip's wind left such a deep mark. If it had been a real, solid strike, his skin would have probably split open. Wen Ying was somewhat speechless. Her Majesty, the Empress... was ruthless enough.

"Why must Your Highness ask for trouble?"

Ling Qiyan opened his eyes and glanced at him, displeased. "Wasn't this Prince doing it to vent your anger? The way you say that, haven't I raised an ungrateful wolf?"

Wen Ying looked into his eyes. "Was it really to vent this student's anger?"

Ling Qiyan smiled. "If this Prince says so, then it is."

In truth, the main reason was that he himself couldn't swallow this insult and felt he had lost face. Pleasing the beauty was just incidental.

Wen Ying asked no more. He took the ointment prescribed by the imperial physician in the palace, rubbed it in his hands to warm it, and gently applied it to Ling Qiyan's wound.

Ling Qiyan let out a "mmph." It was strange. When the eunuch at the Palace of Tranquil Longevity applied the medicine this morning, he hadn't felt a thing. How was it that when Wen Ying did it, every place on his back that he touched felt both hot and itchy? After Wen Ying pressed a few times, even the tip of his heart began to itch.

The enchanting scenes from last night couldn't help but surface in his mind. Ling Qiyan licked his slightly dry lips and turned his head to look at Wen Ying. Seeing him with his head lowered, focused on the task at hand, he chuckled softly. "Poor scholar, why don't you just get yourself castrated and follow this Prince? This Prince guarantees you a life of luxury and fine food, an endless supply of good days. How about it?"

Anyway, if the kid were castrated, he could still favor him, and even have him serve him openly. How great would that be?

Ling Qiyan thought gleefully, spouting utter nonsense. Wen Ying raised his eyes, gave him a blank look, then lowered his head again and continued to apply the medicine.

The wound suddenly stung with pain. Ling Qiyan sucked in a sharp breath and instinctively kicked out at Wen Ying. "What are you doing? Be gentle!"

Wen Ying leaned over, using one side of his body to pin down Ling Qiyan's restless legs, and smeared on the last bit of ointment.

After applying the medicine, Wen Ying helped Ling Qiyan put his clothes back on. Ling Qiyan leaned against the couch, staring at him without blinking. As Wen Ying tied the belt, he asked in a low voice, "What is Your Highness looking at?"

"I'm looking at how a beauty like you ended up growing to look like this," Ling Qiyan said, teasing him with a smile.

"And what did Your Highness see?"

Ling Qiyan's gaze roamed over Wen Ying's face. "Your parents must be good-looking too."

Wen Ying said indifferently, "This student doesn't resemble this student's father. I've never seen my mother. She ought to be good-looking, otherwise she wouldn't have run off with someone."

"So she ran off, who cares," Ling Qiyan said dismissively. "If your mother hadn't run off and had a few more little ones, and then she favored those little ones, it would be better if she had run off."

Wen Ying looked at him. "Is Your Highness talking about yourself? Why does Her Majesty, the Empress, dislike Your Highness?"

Ling Qiyan propped his head on one hand, squinted his eyes, and casually told him, "The Empress thinks this Prince jinxes her. Not only do I jinx my wives, but when I was little, people also said I jinxed my mother. It was the people around the Empress who spread that."

Wen Ying listened quietly as he spoke.

"Not long after this Prince was born, I was taken by Grandmother to be raised. Grandmother's intentions were good. The Empress's health suffered when she gave birth to me, and Grandmother wanted her to recover properly, so she took me away from her side. After all, raising a child is exhausting work. Grandmother was truly afraid of tiring her out."

"However, this Mother Empress of mine is a narrow-minded person. She seemed to have always felt that Grandmother disliked her. It's said that back when Father Emperor was choosing a consort before he ascended the throne, it was a choice between two, and the one Grandmother initially picked wasn't her. So, she began to resent Grandmother. Later, she felt that Grandmother taking me away was a deliberate act of snatching her child, and she grew to resent her even more, even projecting that anger onto this Prince."

"Although this Prince was raised by Grandmother's side, I would still go pay respects to her every three days as a child. But she just disliked this Prince. She never even held me once. During that time, her health was indeed poor, and she fell ill repeatedly. She felt that it was this Prince who was jinxing her. It wasn't until she desperately conceived the second child and gave birth safely, and her health improved afterward, that she started treating the second child as her lucky star and looked down on this Prince even more."

There was no trace of resentment or sadness in Ling Qiyan's words, but rather a hint of mockery, as if he were telling a joke. Wen Ying asked him, "Does Your Highness feel sad?"

"What's there to be sad about? She doesn't like this Prince, so this Prince just stays away from her."

Ling Qiyan truly didn't care. When he was very young, he might have felt some sadness and injustice, but later on, it no longer mattered. Call him heartless or naturally unfeeling, he didn't really have strong feelings about whether others treated him well or poorly. The Empress Dowager was good to him, so he was a bit better to the Empress Dowager, but that was all there was to it.

"A person like Your Highness, in the future when you marry wives and take concubines, even if you are good to them on the surface, you will inevitably break their hearts."

Wen Ying saw through Ling Qiyan's nature at a glance. It wasn't that Prince Yu was fickle and ungrateful; he simply lacked empathy. No matter how gentle and affectionate he appeared on the surface, deep down, he didn't truly care about anyone. For such a person, whoever gave him their true heart was destined to end up with wishful thinking and heartbreak.

Ling Qiyan found these words a bit strange and shot Wen Ying a look. "Are you worrying about this Prince's future wives and concubines? Don't you think you're overstepping your bounds by far?"

Wen Ying admitted his mistake in a low voice, "This student has misspoken. Your Highness, please do not be offended."

Ling Qiyan kicked him, too lazy to argue further. "Hurry up, this Prince still needs medicine on my face."

The place where Lady Shen had slapped him still hadn't swollen down, and the two bloody nail marks were even more obvious. Ling Qiyan held a mirror and examined it closely, saying with dissatisfaction, "This won't leave a scar, will it?"

"Your Highness is a man. What does it matter if a small scar is left?" Wen Ying said. He was already holding a handkerchief dabbed with ointment, carefully applying it to his face.

"That won't do. How can this Prince, who is as beautiful as a flower, have my face marred?"

Wen Ying simply shut his mouth.

The skin on his face was, after all, more sensitive. The moment the ointment-covered cloth touched it, a wave of fine, sharp stinging pain came over him. Ling Qiyan let out a soft "hiss." Most of his previous imperious aura deflated, and his eyelids drooped.

Seeing him like this, Wen Ying reminded him in a low voice, "Your Highness, even if you don't care about Her Majesty, the Empress, yielding once in a while is better than suffering this physical pain."

"Alright, alright, this Prince knows." Ling Qiyan was rather impatient. He waved his hand, not wanting Wen Ying to talk about such boring matters anymore.

"Let this student accompany Your Highness in a game of chess."

Wen Ying set up the chessboard. Ling Qiyan was somewhat distracted. After playing for less than half a quarter-hour, he began to mumble again, "Poor scholar, my back hurts."

This time it truly hurt, unlike before when he was deliberately feigning pain to tease Wen Ying.

Wen Ying knew. He put down the chess piece, moved to sit beside Ling Qiyan, reached out to pull him over, and let him lie against him, his fingers gently caressing the wound on his back.

Ling Qiyan found this position very awkward and strange. He squirmed a little but then didn't want to move. Being caressed so faintly by Wen Ying, it seemed the spot really didn't hurt as much anymore. There was only the same itchiness as when the medicine was applied, an itch that made half his body go limp.

Ling Qiyan shifted into a more comfortable position, with most of his body lounging in Wen Ying's arms. He reached out and groped randomly at his chest, somewhat regretting not having made him take off his shirt for a good look last night.

Wen Ying closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch, continuing to stroke the wound on Ling Qiyan's back. For once, he didn't push away his mischievous paws. Listening to the occasional low gasp from Ling Qiyan in his arms, his mind began to wander.

"Poor scholar, won't you take off your clothes?" Ling Qiyan whispered coaxingly, close to Wen Ying's ear.

"Why should I take off my clothes?" Wen Ying didn't open his eyes, but his voice was a little hoarse.

"Strip completely, let this Prince have a good look at you."

Ling Qiyan's hand groped further and further down. Wen Ying, unable to bear it any longer, grabbed his wrist. "Your Highness is injured, yet you still have the mood today?"

Wen Ying had already opened his eyes and was peering at him. Ling Qiyan looked at Wen Ying and slowly blinked his eyelashes.

Wen Ying's gaze was always like this—calm, steady, and resolute, as if some bottomless emotion was hidden within. This person was different from others, different from all the people he had seen who needed to rely on him to live.

When this kid was brought before him that day, there was still a faint, lingering aura of gloomy hostility about him. Now, he was somewhat more peaceful, at least in front of him.

He knew that someone like Wen Ying would never be content to be subservient and beg for favor their whole life. If he were given a chance...

Unfortunately, he couldn't give him such a chance, Ling Qiyan thought. Sooner or later, this kid would find a higher branch to climb. But forget it. It wasn't as if his own fascination would last that long anyway.

Ling Qiyan's lips curved into a smile. "Are you still hiding something that can't be seen? What's wrong with this Prince taking a look?"