Chapter 418 Etiquette?

Chapter 418: Ritual and Law?

The waiter stood frozen, lantern in hand, his mouth hanging open.

Faced with this bizarre, frozen scene, he could neither advance nor retreat.

He could only awkwardly duck his head, trying to make himself as small as possible.

In the midst of this dead silence, a voice drifted down from the top of the stairs—lazy, hoarse, like someone who'd just woken up, but with a cold edge to it:

"My sweetheart isn't sleeping—so it turns out he's here for a secret tryst with a 'fair lady'..."

The voice was not loud, but it cut through the heavy, thick air of the stairwell like a thin blade of ice.

Cheng Ge snapped out of it, realizing Lin Nanshu was still holding him tight.

He instinctively tried to turn his head, but his body was constrained by the other man's grip, managing only to turn slightly.

His gaze traced the source of the voice, sweeping up from the cold floor, past those bare feet, rising slowly—

The night robe hung loose, the collar slightly open, revealing a patch of pale skin and sharp collarbones.

Higher still, past the chiseled jawline, his eyes finally settled on Yun Xunyu's face.

The faint corridor light came from behind Yun Xunyu, casting most of his face in shadow, leaving only those beautiful phoenix eyes, which seemed to hold some elusive gleam in the dimness.

Cheng Ge caught a fleeting glimpse of something deep in those eyes—a coldness that could chill you to the core.

But it vanished so quickly that Cheng Ge almost thought it was an illusion.

Then the corner of Yun Xunyu's mouth curled up into a teasing, half-smile. His gaze flickered between Cheng Ge and Lin Nanshu before finally settling on Cheng Ge's face.

Lin Nanshu seemed to snap back to his senses as well at the sudden intrusion of the voice.

He released his arms around Cheng Ge with the barest movement, though one hand still rested lightly at Cheng Ge's waist.

He looked up toward Yun Xunyu on the stairs, against the light.

The lingering agitation and pain on his face hadn't quite faded, but those gentle, warm eyes had already returned to their usual calm and composure. He gave Yun Xunyu a slight nod.

Yun Xunyu acted as if he hadn't noticed Lin Nanshu watching him. He slowly descended the stairs.

His bare feet made almost no sound on the cold wooden floor, only the faint rustle of fabric.

The thin night robe, hastily thrown on, hung loose on him. As he walked, the collar opened wider, revealing more pale, cool skin.

In the dim lamplight, he had a fragile quality—yet combined with his half-smiling expression and unhurried gait, there was a distinct air of danger.

He walked straight to Cheng Ge's side, close enough that he could feel Cheng Ge's breath.

Then, he reached out with a naturalness as if he'd done it a thousand times, unfolded the outer cloak he'd been loosely holding, and draped it over Cheng Ge's shoulders with a gentleness that left no room for refusal. He carefully smoothed the collar, then drew the front closed.

Cheng Ge hadn't felt particularly cold in the heat of the moment, nor while held in Lin Nanshu's embrace.

But now, stirred by this gesture, he suddenly felt a chill creeping up from the soles of his feet and up his spine, so cold that he instinctively shivered and immediately grabbed the cloak's soft collar, pulling it tight around himself.

Yun Xunyu lowered his gaze to watch Cheng Ge clutch at the collar, the teasing glint in his eyes deepening. His fingertips brushed lightly, seemingly casually, across the back of Cheng Ge's ice-cold hand before pulling away.

Only then did he look up, returning his attention to Lin Nanshu. His gaze drifted over the hand resting at Cheng Ge's waist, his smile unchanged, but his voice still carrying that lazy chill:

"The night wind is strong and cold, and my dear is delicate—he can't bear the chill. Master Lin... if you wish to catch up, might I suggest a bright day, a warm pavilion, and fine tea instead?"

His tone was polite, even "courteous," but the words "my dear" were pronounced with deliberate clarity, carrying an unmistakable intimacy and a declaration of ownership.

The air in the stairwell froze again at his words.

The candle flame flickered uneasily, stretching and warping the three figures' shadows into something more twisted, more ambiguous, more entangled with one another.

Lin Nanshu did not take offense at Yun Xunyu's sharp words.

His usual gentle expression remained unchanged. He simply lowered his gaze, looking at Cheng Ge's fingers—slightly red from the cold—as they gripped the cloak's collar.

Without a word, he removed the soft fox-fur hand muff from his own hands.

The muff had clearly seen better days, its edges somewhat worn, but the fur remained warm and lustrous.

Then, gently taking Cheng Ge's cold hand, he slipped the fox-fur muff over it.

As he did all this, his brows were lowered, his expression focused and meticulous, as if performing the most ordinary task in the world, completely ignoring Yun Xunyu, who stood nearby with his chilly presence.

Only after the muff was securely in place did he raise his eyes, meeting Yun Xunyu's half-smiling gaze calmly.

His voice retained its usual gentle clarity, as if stating the simplest of facts:

"Prince Yun appears barefoot and disheveled in the dead of night, thinly clad, standing on the stairs of an inn in a border town of our Great Zhou, worrying about others' warmth—such 'elegance' is truly remarkable."

He paused, his tone still level, but each word crisp and clear, carrying a quiet, unyielding force:

"However, Prince Yun, as a prince of Nanling, appearing unbidden and without cause within the borders of our Great Zhou—I fear that is... a breach of ritual and law. Should word of this leak out and become known..."

His gaze swept, seemingly incidentally, over Cheng Ge's hand wrapped in the fox-fur muff, and his voice grew softer, yet heavier, "I fear Muyu... would also be needlessly implicated, causing unnecessary trouble."

His words were courteous, even "tactful," but the phrases "prince of Nanling," "without summons or cause," "breach of ritual," and "against the law" were like invisible nails, driven into the delicate situation at hand.

The final mention of "implicated" directly tied Yun Xunyu's presence to the trouble Cheng Ge might face—seemingly out of concern, but actually drawing a clear line, marking Yun Xunyu as an "outsider" and a "danger."

The air seemed to freeze once more.

The waiter had long since been too scared to even breathe, wishing he could simply vanish on the spot.

The smile on Yun Xunyu's face didn't fade—in fact, it deepened—but it never reached his eyes.

He stood on the cold floor, his thin night robe fluttering slightly in the draft, making his figure appear even more slender, yet his bearing remained composed, even almost condescending.

"Master Lin is mistaken," he said slowly, his gaze shifting to Cheng Ge, his eyes deep and unfathomable. "As for why I'm here—my dear knows best. As for ritual and law..."

He let out a light laugh, with a hint of careless mockery: "What are those things anyway..."

Cheng Ge stood caught between the two men, one hand wrapped in the fox-fur muff Lin Nanshu had given him, the cloak Yun Xunyu had brought draped over his shoulders—caught between ice and fire.

Listening to their exchange, he felt his temples throbbing, and the urge to pee was coming back.

At the stairwell landing, the three faced off, tension simmering beneath the surface.

Only the dim oil lamp continued to burn tirelessly, casting this scene in an ever more strange and inexplicable light.

"Seems like everyone enjoys a good showdown—the messier, the more excited they get, hahaha..."