Chapter 10: This Prince Thought Your Place Was on Fire

Chapter 10: This Prince Thought Your Quarters Had Caught Fire

Yan Huaixuan froze for a second after saying it, but what was said was said. He frowned slightly, thinking it just gave Shen Lian another excuse to come crawling back.

He tilted his chin up, ready to say something.

But the young man simply turned, gave a formal bow from a distance, and said, "This humble consort thanks Your Highness."

Shen Lian's voice was cold and distant. He lowered his eyes, bowed, and turned to leave.

He staggered a little, then quickly steadied himself.

It was Shen Lian's reaction that left Yan Huaixuan rooted to the spot.

Ling Yun couldn't help but say, "Is he playing hard to get?"

Yan Huaixuan looked away, smoothing his sleeves. "Not my business."

"Ling Yun, watch over me while I cultivate."

"Yes."

But the moment Yan Huaixuan sat down, he sensed the lingering warmth on the bed.

It was that person's...

His cold brows furrowed slightly. He raised his hand to cast a cleansing spell, but caught sight of a sock lying on the bed.

Clearly dropped in a moment of panic.

Ye Zhang's words flashed through Yan Huaixuan's mind.

"I still have the sock you gave me in my room!"

A cold glint flashed in Yan Huaixuan's eyes.

Shameless.

Who just hands out personal stuff like that?

He raised his hand to toss the little sock into the brazier, but then flashed on Shen Lian's feet—delicate, pale, smooth, toes like pearls, curled up in the blanket, half hidden.

Yan Huaixuan felt a wave of heat pool low in his gut.

He lowered his head, silent for a moment.

He was born cold-hearted—how could desire arise in him?

He flicked his fingers, and the sock shot into the cabinet. Even so, the desire didn't fade. For the first time, Yan Huaixuan couldn't settle into meditation for this long.

He paused, then recited the cleansing mantra he had never used before.

Only after the desire was finally suppressed did he relax.

Yan Huaixuan held out his hand to look at the red thread.

Could it be this fate-binding red thread?

A cold look crossed his face.

It seemed he needed to break through to the Saint Realm as soon as possible, cut the red thread, and not let it hold back his cultivation.

Shen Lian had just returned to his room when a figure pulled him into a corner.

"Master Shen," said a nondescript maid, lowering her voice.

Duke Shen's people had left Shen Lian there to keep an eye on Yan Huaixuan, and they'd left him a contact.

The maid glanced around. "Has that former crown prince shown any unusual behavior? Who has he met?"

Shen Lian's tone was indifferent. "No. He's still the same—weak, lying in bed, idling away his days."

The maid nodded, a strange glint in her eyes. "Do you know that your man Ye Zhang died a sudden, unjust death?"

Shen Lian froze, his eyes widening slightly. "What did you say? Brother Ye—"

The maid immediately grabbed Shen Lian's arm. "Don't make a sound! Duke Shen said you're still the former prince's consort in name—don't push it!"

Shen Lian bit his lip. "Understood."

He kept his voice low, but his eyes welled up, looking genuinely upset.

The maid studied his face, then looked down and left, sweeping as she went.

But the moment Shen Lian turned around, his face was expressionless.

The system clicked its tongue. "Your tears really come on command."

Shen Lian: "Meh."

The system figured Shen Lian would keep scheming, but nope—

Over the next few days, Shen Lian didn't bother showing his face around Yan Huaixuan.

He didn't use the jade pendant. He just found some low-ranking imperial doctor, and once his cold mostly cleared up,

Shen Lian started copying the *Book of Etiquette* stroke by stroke. He barely stopped to eat, burning the midnight oil to study this world's script at the same time.

The system frowned. "Aren't you going to seduce Yan Huaixuan? Why are you copying books here?"

Shen Lian's face was blank. "Didn't you all say I was illiterate?"

The system paused, then chuckled. "Oh, those don't matter. Your priority right now is the mission."

Shen Lian didn't reply and went back to his books.

When Yan Huaixuan came out of meditation, he heard Ling Yun's report.

A thoughtful look crossed his face. "You're saying he's been copying books all this time?"

Ling Yun nodded. "Yeah. Seems like when you got mad that day, it scared him half to death. He hasn't dared come near you for three days."

Yan Huaixuan was now at the third level of Qi Refining and could use a sliver of spiritual perception. So he sent out a thread of it and saw the young man sitting at his desk.

He usually lounged around like he had no bones, but now he sat straight and proper.

That face, usually full of smiles, now had its lips pressed thin. He'd just gotten over a bad illness, so he still looked a little pale.

Looking at the book he was copying, every character was delicate and graceful.

But the brush handles were all stained red.

Yan Huaixuan's spiritual sense focused.

All seven or eight brushes scattered on the table were like this.

It was because Shen Lian's fingertips had been worn raw, blood seeping into the brush handles and leaving marks, yet he seemed unaware, only rubbing his eyes from time to time.

After copying for too long in the dim lamplight, Shen Lian's eyes stung.

Even though he could only open them slightly, he refused to set the lamp aside.

While writing, Shen Lian suddenly lowered his head and coughed, his thin shoulders trembling slightly, but he quickly stifled the cough, caught his breath, and picked up the brush again.

Yan Huaixuan frowned without realizing it.

Previously, Shen Lian had only been putting on an act, so why was he being so earnest now?

Was it only because... that night he had scolded Shen Lian for being dissolute?

Ling Yun sneered, "To please the master, he's really going all out. If he put this much effort into cultivation, he might actually get somewhere."

No sooner had he spoken than Yan Huaixuan vanished.

Ling Yun: "...?"

Shen Lian was about to turn the page when he heard a cold, aloof voice from outside.

"Shen Lian."

Hearing the voice, Shen Lian froze. Why had Yan Huaixuan come?

Wasn't this man furious just yesterday because he'd kissed him?

Shen Lian looked at the things on the table. He hadn't done this to gain Yan Huaixuan's sympathy.

Rather—

Shen Lian's mind flashed to the cold expression Yan Huaixuan had worn when he pushed him away.

Shen Lian pressed his lips together. He put everything away, then messed up his hair, pulled his sleeves down to hide his hands, and went to open the door as if he'd just woken up.

"Your Highness," Shen Lian said as he opened the door. "Why have you come?"

As soon as he opened the door, he stepped back a few paces, putting distance between himself and Yan Huaixuan, looking down with a submissive air.

Yan Huaixuan's gaze swept over the clean table, then fell on Shen Lian's face.

For some reason, even though Shen Lian was now following the rules, composed and obedient.

He even knew to put things away and hide his hands, unlike before, when he'd make a fuss over the tiniest scratch.

Yet something strange stirred in Yan Huaixuan's chest, though he couldn't name it.

He frowned slightly.

"I heard screaming from your quarters and thought there was a fire, so I came to check."

Yan Huaixuan's voice was indifferent.

Shen Lian was puzzled. "What screams?"

He hadn't heard anything.

Yan Huaixuan raised a finger slightly, and a cat's meow came from nearby.

Shen Lian looked up and said softly, "Your Highness, it's a stray cat in heat, that's why its cries sound so shrill."

Yan Huaixuan gave a soft "mm" in acknowledgment.

Shen Lian thought Yan Huaixuan would leave, and he even moved to close the door, but to his surprise, Yan Huaixuan said, "My shoulders ache."

Shen Lian stiffened. Previously, when he was trying to curry favor with Yan Huaixuan, he would always ask if his shoulders hurt and offer to massage them.

Yan Huaixuan had always refused before, so why was he bringing it up tonight?

Shen Lian pressed his lips together. "Please, sit, Your Highness."