Wind, Flower, Snow, Moon

Saying he wanted to go to the villa, Ling Qiyan immediately ordered someone to prepare a carriage and set out, arriving at the place before noon.

This time, he didn't allow Wen Ying to bring those books. The courtyard arranged for him was changed to the one next to his own, separated only by a moon gate.

For the latter half of that afternoon, Wen Ying accompanied Ling Qiyan in playing chess, tasting tea, and listening to music. He did not provoke the pampered Prince Yu into anger again, which made Ling Qiyan find him more pleasing to the eye.

Ling Qiyan had been thoroughly tormented last night. After playing half a game of chess, he was already dozing off while leaning against the couch, a chess piece still clutched in his hand.

Wen Ying had just placed a piece. When he looked up and saw that Ling Qiyan's eyelids had closed, he paused his hand and watched him intently for a moment before lightly caressing his cheek.

When Ling Qiyan woke up again, the sun was already setting in the west. He groggily opened his eyes to find himself covered with a woolen blanket, lying on Wen Ying's lap.

That boy was holding a book, reading with concentration.

Ling Qiyan didn't want to move. He raised his eyes and stared at the handsome line of Wen Ying's jaw for a moment, until Wen Ying's gaze shifted over to him. Those deep, dark pupils looked at him calmly. "Your Highness is awake?"

Ling Qiyan stretched and sat up, twisting his neck. After a nap, most of the discomfort in his body had faded, and he was full of energy again.

"You poor scholar, didn't this prince forbid you from bringing books? The examination just ended, why are you still studying so hard? The Capital Examination is still several months away. What's the rush? No more reading."

As he spoke, he snatched the book from Wen Ying's hand. Flipping through a couple of pages, he discovered it wasn't Wen Ying's book, but his own—the kind of leisure book he read for occasional amusement, full of romance and the amorous affairs of men and women.

Ling Qiyan hated studying; the sight of words gave him a headache. Only this kind of idle book for passing the time could hold his attention. But he hadn't expected Wen Ying to pick this up while he was asleep.

So he grinned and leaned in closer to ask the poor scholar, "Is it good?"

"Does Your Highness think it's good?" Wen Ying asked in return.

"It's alright, just for fun."

Wen Ying said coolly, "Utter nonsense."

The smile on Ling Qiyan's lips froze. "How is it utter nonsense?"

"Does Your Highness believe what's written in the book?"

Of course... he didn't.

He simply couldn't understand those infatuated men and women who were trapped by love, willing to live or die for it. As a person, one should just be comfortable and happy. Why get entangled in so-called love and affection, just to bring misery upon oneself?

He was the noble and precious Prince Yu. He had no need to empathize with the romantic feelings of mortals, but that didn't stop him from reading about them for amusement.

Ling Qiyan's face was full of disapproval. Wen Ying knew his thoughts, so he averted his gaze and asked no more.

The moment Ling Qiyan saw Wen Ying's insipid face, he wanted to tease him. He deliberately draped himself over him and reached out to tickle his waist. "You poor scholar, tell me, why do you never smile? This prince has never seen you smile."

Ling Qiyan thought about it. He shouldn't be mistaken. This boy, Wen Ying, had been in his manor for over three months, and he really had never once seen him smile. Not once!

With that thought, Ling Qiyan raised his hands, pinched both of Wen Ying's cheeks, and tried to pull the corners of his mouth up. "Smile for this prince to see."

Wen Ying's brows furrowed tightly. "Let go."

"This prince will not. If you don't smile, this prince won't let go."

Ling Qiyan was as soft as if he had no bones, slumping entirely into Wen Ying's embrace, pestering him relentlessly, determined to force a smile out of him.

Wen Ying's hand rested on his waist and pressed lightly.

Ling Qiyan, having been pressed on a sensitive spot, let out a soft grunt and finally released his hands.

"This prince hates you."

He got up in a huff, kicked Wen Ying, and didn't want to pay him any more attention.

Would it kill him to smile? What's wrong with smiling?

He held this grudge until nightfall. After Wen Ying had served him in washing up and changing clothes and was about to withdraw, Ling Qiyan called out to stop him.

"Come here." Ling Qiyan lifted his chin, gesturing with a cold voice.

Wen Ying walked over. Ling Qiyan's finger tapped on his firm chest. "You poor scholar, you stinking scholar, you have no sense of romance at all. This prince wants you to serve him, what are you running for?"

A flicker went through Wen Ying's eyes. He reminded him, "Does Your Highness want it again tonight? I'm afraid Your Highness's body won't be able to take it."

Ling Qiyan immediately grew angry. "Whether my body can take it or not, this prince knows full well. Just serve this prince!"

Wen Ying said no more and was pulled over by Ling Qiyan's hand.

An hour later, Ling Qiyan was lying on Wen Ying's body, drenched in sweat, panting as he praised him, "You poor scholar, you're really amazing."

Wen Ying raised a hand to stroke his back, holding him close.

Ling Qiyan laughed by his ear. "This prince really likes you."

Wen Ying's mind went adrift for a moment, but that slight ripple soon vanished without a trace.

The "like" from Prince Yu's mouth was probably not much different from his liking for that string of Burmese bells—just something that could bring him pleasure.

After holding him quietly for a while, Wen Ying said in a hoarse voice, "It's very late. Your Highness should go bathe."

Ling Qiyan bit his neck again. "You accompany this prince."

From that day on, Wen Ying completely became Ling Qiyan's bedfellow, accompanying him for play during the day and serving him in bed at night. Though it wasn't a nightly indulgence, Prince Yu, who had held back for so many years and just had his first taste, was extremely enthusiastic about this path. Out of three days, he would want it on at least two.

More than ten days passed like this. Ling Qiyan's days were incredibly joyous. Nourished from the inside out, his whole person became even more bright and alluring. The servant girls who occasionally stole a glance at him would all blush with a racing heart, but any improper thoughts they might have had were now completely extinguished.

Even if Jiang Lin were blind, deaf, and mute, the others weren't fools. Especially those who personally served Ling Qiyan, they all knew what was going on. It was just that while they knew, they let the secret rot in their hearts, daring not to speak of it.

Ling Qiyan didn't notice what these people were muttering in their hearts. His mind was now entirely focused on Wen Ying; he had no eyes for anyone else.

At the end of the month, an unexpected guest arrived at the mountain villa: Princess Xihua. Accompanying her was the Sixth Prince, Ling Qining.

Actually, it was that girl Xihua who wanted to come. Fearing gossip, she had roped the Sixth Prince into coming along.

It was a rare sunny afternoon. Ling Qiyan was lying in the courtyard, basking in the sun, while Wen Ying sat beside him, massaging his legs and feeding him.

When Xihua and the others came in, Ling Qiyan didn't even lift an eyelid, only letting out a lazy yawn.

Ling Qining ran forward with big steps, grinning as he flopped down beside Ling Qiyan to greet him, "Big Brother!"

Ling Qiyan pushed him away with a single finger. "Stay away from this prince. So boisterous. Do you have any manners?"

Ling Qining didn't mind the disdain in his big brother's words in the slightest and still looked happy.

It was strange. This boy and Ling Qiyu were both Ling Qiyan's full-blooded brothers. Ling Qiyan and that bastard Ling Qiyu were naturally at odds, but this Little Sixth was very close to him. Even though Ling Qiyan wasn't particularly fond of his sixth younger brother, the boy would always greet him with a grin and want to play with him every time they met.

As for that girl Xihua, she looked unhappy today. When she saw Wen Ying, she glanced at him a few more times, and her expression dimmed again.

Seeing this, Ling Qiyan casually asked her, "What are you doing here? Why did you bring this little brat along too? Does the Empress know?"

Ling Qining cut in, "Mother Empress doesn't know. She thinks I went to Aunt's manor to play. Also, I'm not a little brat. Big Brother, don't curse at people."

Ling Qiyan couldn't be bothered with him and sent him off to play.

He then asked Xihua, "Speak. What did you come here for today?"

The young princess said sullenly, "My marriage has been decided. It's to the eldest grandson of Duke Jing's Manor. I don't like him."

"That's quite good. The legitimate eldest grandson of a duke's manor. It's not a slight to you."

"I said I don't like him," the young princess said angrily.

Ling Qiyan asked carelessly, "Then who do you like?"

Princess Xihua's gaze subconsciously drifted towards Wen Ying. But that poor scholar didn't look at her at all, only staring at Ling Qiyan, massaging his legs, and not forgetting to peel an orange for him. The sight was enough to make one's teeth ache with envy.

Ling Qiyan noticed her wandering eyes and scoffed, "What are you looking at? No looking. A young lady should have some reserve."

Princess Xihua was annoyed. What was so good about a libertine like Ling Qiyan? He was just a bit better-looking than her.

"...Can't you just pity me?"

Ling Qiyan said, amused, "Pity you for what? Others couldn't ask for such a good marriage. What's there to pity? Even if you're truly unwilling, what's the use of telling this prince? This prince can't help you call off the marriage."

"You're just deliberately gloating!"

"Oh." Ling Qiyan thought to himself that he was. This wretched girl clearly didn't know how to appreciate her good fortune. There was nothing worthy of sympathy.

"The one you mentioned last time," the young princess's voice was a bit vague as she glanced at Wen Ying again. "You said you would give him to me..."

Ling Qiyan raised an eyebrow. "You're still harboring designs on this poor scholar?"

The young princess's face flushed red instantly. "You promised."

Wen Ying remained expressionless, focused on his task, as if he weren't the person being discussed.

Ling Qiyan refused, "This prince no longer agrees."

"...Why are you so stingy? You clearly said it was okay last time!"

"Why don't you ask him if he's willing?" Ling Qiyan pointed at Wen Ying.

Only then did Wen Ying raise his eyes to look at Princess Xihua. His dark eyes were filled with coldness as he said flatly, "Your Highness's deep affection, this student cannot bear it. This student is unwilling."

The young princess's eyes instantly reddened with anger.

Ling Qiyan showed not a hint of pity for the fair maiden, taunting her, "Save it. You're about to marry into a duke's manor, yet you're thinking of keeping a boy toy behind their back. Do you really think Duke Jing's Manor has no face to lose? Besides, this boy will be a Juren soon, and next spring, he might even become a Jinshi. Can you afford to keep him?"

"Then why are you still keeping him in your manor!"

"He himself is willing to stay with this prince," Ling Qiyan said smugly, extending a sock-clad foot to rub Wen Ying's waist. "Poor scholar, you tell her. Are you willing to stay with this prince?"

Wen Ying looked at him calmly. "This student is willing to follow by Your Highness's side."

The young princess was speechless with anger.

Ling Qining ran back, tugging Ling Qiyan's hand. "Big Brother, play pitch-pot with me."

"Don't want to," Ling Qiyan was a pile of lazy bones and didn't want to move at all. He pulled his hand back and jutted his chin towards Wen Ying. "Have this poor scholar play with you. He's good at this."

Hearing this, Ling Qining looked at Wen Ying curiously.

Wen Ying silently stood up, walked to the side, picked up an arrow, and demonstrated for Ling Qining.

The arrow landed steadily in the pot. Ling Qining's eyes went wide, and he cheered loudly.

Ignoring the two over there, Ling Qiyan saw that Xihua was on the verge of tears and couldn't help but remind her, "Alright, you. You're starting to cry now? You don't really have the guts to keep a boy toy anyway. You just don't want to get married. You'll have to marry sooner or later. I heard that boy from Duke Jing's Manor is quite decent. Why think so much?"

"You're not me, so of course you don't care. Anyway, if you're not satisfied with the princess consort you marry in the future, you can still take eight or ten concubines."

Ling Qiyan didn't want to talk to her anymore. There was simply no getting through to her on this matter.

The young princess cried for a bit, then lost her steam and snorted, "I think I heard Grandma and Mother say they want to betroth the eldest granddaughter of the Duke of Jing to you. In the future, I'll even become your sister-in-law."

Ling Qiyan frowned. There was such a thing?

"I've played with that young lady before. Her boudoir name is Yulan. She's fifteen, quite pretty, and has a good temperament. Lucky you," the young princess said sourly.

Although Ling Qiyan had a reputation for being fatal to his wives, he was, after all, the Emperor's eldest legitimate son and the most favored by the Empress Dowager. To marry, he naturally had to marry a noble lady from a high-ranking family. The Duke Jing's Manor had generations of meritorious service and deep roots in the court. The Empress Dowager betrothing this family's young lady to Ling Qiyan was perhaps a way of leaving him a life-saving talisman for after the Crown Prince ascended the throne.

Ling Qiyan thought secretly, 'The Empress Dowager never told me about this? ...Forget it. It's all the same who I marry anyway, as long as the Empress Dowager is satisfied.'

Over there, Ling Qining let out a cheer. Wen Ying had thrown the arrows into both "ears" of the pot.

Princess Xihua looked over at them. After watching for a while, she suddenly said to Ling Qiyan, "Speaking of which, this retainer in your, my elder cousin's, manor looks quite similar to Little Ning'er. If you didn't know, seeing them stand together, they look more like real brothers. Don't you think?"

Ling Qiyan looked over. Wen Ying was bent over, standing behind Ling Qining, holding one of his hands to help him adjust his posture while instructing him on pitch-pot techniques. Their two close faces did indeed look somewhat similar, especially around the eyes and brows.

Of course, Wen Ying was much better-looking. That little brat Ling Qining hadn't even finished puberty yet.

Ling Qiyan curled his lip. "Are your eyes broken?"

"...Your eyes are the ones that are broken."

Ling Qiyan stared at the two of them for a while. Ling Qining seemed extremely happy, his eyes already full of worship for Wen Ying. Watching them, he clicked his tongue in amazement. This little brat was really easy to fool. No wonder he got along with everyone.

But that coffin-faced Wen Ying was actually quite patient with a child?

At nightfall, Ling Qiyan once again lured the man into bed. In the throes of passion, Wen Ying suddenly pinched his chin and asked, "Your Highness told that young princess that you were going to give this student to her?"

A viciousness shone in his eyes, but the dazed Ling Qiyan didn't notice it and said casually, "If she hadn't been betrothed, and you passed the exams, it would have been a fine story for a princess to marry down to you. Why were you in such a hurry to push her away? Now look, she's engaged. You've lost your chance to become a princess's consort."

"So Your Highness truly intended to give this student to her before?" Wen Ying's voice was right by Ling Qiyan's ear, his hoarse tone steeped in coldness.

"I was thinking about it before, but not anymore," tormented to his limit, Ling Qiyan rubbed his lips messily against his face and mumbled, "This prince is very fond of you. If I gave you to her, what would this prince do?"

The gloom in Wen Ying's eyes deepened, and he bit down hard on his lips.