Ning Huan’s constitution was somewhat delicate. Having gone out without wrapping himself in a thick cloak, he felt lightheaded and heavy-footed upon his return.
He instructed Die Qing to boil a bowl of ginger soup.
The hot water was also ready, so he went to the bathroom to take a bath. The permeating steam flushed Ning Huan’s snowy face with a hint of rose. Amidst this layer of mist, Ning Huan felt groggy, momentarily unable to distinguish between the present and the past.
In such a strange place, with a strange identity and a strange bedfellow, even Ning Huan occasionally felt a sense of absurdity and unease.
There was a knock on the outer door.
Ning Huan did not even open his eyes, speaking coolly and indifferently: “There is no need to add hot water.”
“Ning Huan.”
A familiar yet strange voice drifted in. The deep, slightly cold tone pulled Ning Huan back from his illusory imaginings.
Ning Huan gripped the edge of the bathtub with his fingers, and his whole being snapped awake. He spoke calmly: “Your Highness, let us talk about everything after I come out.”
It was evident that Mu Jinyu was not a patient man. After knocking on the door, he completely ignored Ning Huan’s words and walked straight in.
Watching this tall figure enter, Ning Huan instantly submerged himself into the water. The warm water submerged his chest, leaving only the area above his shoulders exposed.
Dried flower petals floated on the surface of the water. Mu Jinyu observed them closely; it turned out to be dried lotus blossoms. No wonder Ning Huan’s body always carried a pleasant lotus scent.
Ning Huan’s dark hair was completely wet, and warm, transparent droplets of water flowed down his cheeks, sliding past his long, thick eyelashes to land on his chin, then following the curve of his pointed chin to his collarbone before finally merging into the current.
The two had performed the wedding ceremony. Although Ning Huan had married Mu Jinyu as a woman, both in the dynasty Ning Huan came from and in this Great Luo Dynasty, marriage between men was recognized.
Ning Huan lifted his eyes toward Mu Jinyu: “Why did you come in?”
Mu Jinyu let out a cold snort: “We are already married and have shared a bed for so many days. Is there a need for such avoidance?”
Ning Huan only felt a headache; he could not see through Mu Jinyu at all. To say this fellow was foolish, yet he was already working on paving his future path, eventually standing at the highest position. To say Mu Jinyu was smart, yet he was usually so irritable and blunt.
Ning Huan tilted his head: “Then what do you want to do? Take a ‘mandarin duck’ bath with me?”
Mu Jinyu froze, and then turned red from his earlobes down to his neck.
He looked away: “I have absolutely no such thoughts. I consider myself a gentleman of integrity. Right now, I only want to tell you that I did not do anything absurd at Zuihua Building today. I just smashed some things and paid some compensation.”
Ning Huan arched an eyebrow: “Oh? Your Highness won’t even look me in the eye while speaking. Are you feeling guilty?”
Mu Jinyu remained silent for a moment before slowly shifting his gaze, letting it fall upon Ning Huan.
Ning Huan’s body was submerged in the water. The petals and spices on the surface emitted a rich fragrance. This pleasant scent was inhaled into his lungs, and Mu Jinyu felt as though his very breath was a faint, cold fragrance.
Snowy shoulders and a slender neck were above the water’s surface, and water was still dripping from his dark hair. All colors become more intense when wet with water—the black was blacker, like raven feathers, and the white was whiter, his skin tone possessing a slightly transparent quality, like crystalline ice and snow under sunlight.
A hint of a smile dyed Ning Huan’s pale, cold eyes: “Your Highness, is what you just said the truth?”
Mu Jinyu’s voice was raspy: “The absolute truth.”
Ning Huan’s hand emerged from the water. He reached up and pinched Mu Jinyu’s well-defined, cold-lined chin, just as Mu Jinyu had pinched his today.
Ning Huan was not a broad-minded person; he was prone to holding grudges. Mu Jinyu had pinched his chin time and again, and he had long wanted to return the favor.
However, he did not realize that at this moment, he looked like a small white fox attempting to use its paw to touch a fierce tiger.
Transparent droplets of water dripped from Ning Huan’s fingers, and his fingertips were so white they were almost transparent. A faint smile also hooked the corners of his lips: “Since you knew the ladies of Zuihua Building only sell their talents and not their bodies, and could have no relation with me, then why did you pinch my chin today and scold me so fiercely?”
He completely failed to notice that his words had betrayed his true identity.
Mu Jinyu’s pupils constricted slightly as he gazed at Ning Huan, their eyes meeting.
After a long while, his voice became husky: “I should not have been fierce to you. If I could do it over, I wouldn’t scold you; I’d just kill the one playing the zither and then take you away.”
Ning Huan’s fingertips exerted a bit of pressure: “Is there nothing but killing in your head? Crown Prince, does having blood on your hands really make you that excited? Excited enough to disregard everything?”
Mu Jinyu did not think there was anything wrong with killing. He knew that a filthy and wicked person like himself would likely be killed one day; perhaps his own death would be even more wretched.
Maybe it was because the temperature of Ning Huan’s fingertips was too warm, or maybe his finger pads were too soft, but Mu Jinyu did not think being pinched on the chin was a shameful thing as Ning Huan did.
He gripped Ning Huan’s wrist, just as Ning Huan had done after having his chin pinched.
The fair wrist was like frozen snow, slender and fragile. Mu Jinyu rubbed it slightly, feeling the pulse jumping beneath his hand. An indescribable emotion flowed through his chest, like a quiet river surging in the middle of the night.
“I was unhappy,” Mu Jinyu said. “So I wanted to kill those I couldn’t stand the sight of.”
Ning Huan’s wrist was stung by the thin calluses on the Prince’s fingertips. He used his other hand to swat Mu Jinyu’s paw away, and he himself released the other’s chin.
Mu Jinyu’s gaze shifted away from Ning Huan’s face again. He didn’t know why Ning Huan was so good-looking—it was a beauty that completely submerged a person and made them feel hot all over.
He muttered to himself: “I will only stop wanting to kill once I find something that makes me happy.”
Ning Huan felt a headache coming on. At this moment, he realized his hand had been gripped by Mu Jinyu at some unknown point. He tried to pull his hand back into the water, but sensing Ning Huan’s movement, Mu Jinyu gently squeezed Ning Huan’s soft and delicate finger pads.
The door was closed, and Mu Jinyu walked out.
With a splash, Ning Huan emerged halfway from the water. The water had already turned cool, and he felt he truly might catch a cold.
Mu Jinyu sat on the railing for a long time. Outside, the sky had turned dark. The winter night was extremely cold, and A-Xi’s face was aching from the frost: “Your Highness, let us go inside?”
The northern wind was like a knife scraping against the face. A-Xi feared the Crown Prince would be driven even madder by the gale.
Mu Jinyu was still reflecting on Ning Huan’s words. If Ning Huan were a woman, whether the ladies of Zuihua Building sold their bodies or not should have had nothing to do with “her,” yet he had emphasized that point.
A-Xi reminded him again: “Your Highness?”
Mu Jinyu remained silent for a moment before finally deciding to tell A-Xi: “Just now, the Crown Princess invited me to bathe together. I refused.”
A-Xi: “?”
Your Highness hasn’t even gone to sleep; why are you already dreaming? Has the illness worsened to the point of adding delusions?
Mu Jinyu headed back in: “Now, I regret it.”
Regret came too late, as Ning Huan had already finished washing and come out.
The only thing left in A-Xi’s ears was the Crown Prince’s cold voice: “Dispatch people to thoroughly investigate Ning Huan and the Dingyuan Marquis Manor again. Every major event over the years must be uncovered and reported back to me.”
“Yes.”
Now, Ning Huan’s hair was rubbed until it was semi-dry. He was dressed in a green gown, leaning against the charcoal brazier. Warm air enveloped him, and a light sandalwood scent seeped out from the brazier.
Die Qing gave the boiled ginger soup to Ning Huan. Ning Huan truly disliked it, but drinking it would induce sweating and dispel the cold; waking up the next morning, he might be well. He took it and drank a bit, his brow furrowing uncontrollably—it was so unpleasant that he would rather be sick than taste another drop.
Mu Jinyu also entered from outside. Ning Huan beckoned to him: “Your Highness.”
Mu Jinyu let out a cold snort: “What did you call me over for?”
More than half of the ginger soup remained. Ning Huan’s eyes curved: “Your Highness, drink some ginger soup to dispel the cold.”
Mu Jinyu was fed a mouthful, and the spiciness that stung his throat made him flare up with anger, instantly becoming unhappy.
But Ning Huan was so earnest, feeding Mu Jinyu mouthful by mouthful. Seeing him so gentle and considerate, Mu Jinyu’s anger gradually dissipated. When the bowl of ginger soup was finished, Ning Huan set the bowl aside and reached up to touch his own hair.
The temperature near the brazier was higher, and his hair was already dry. Due to the cold, Ning Huan felt heavy-headed, and the flush on his face was not quite normal. He took an ivory comb to tidy his dark hair and then went to the bed to sleep.
The ginger soup made Mu Jinyu’s entire body feel hot. After he returned from a bath, Ning Huan had already fallen asleep.
Mu Jinyu looked down at his flat chest and exquisite face, and closing his eyes, he remembered the scene from earlier that day. The youth in white reclining on the couch; the clothes like snow, and the person like snow.
Mu Jinyu felt inexplicably irritable, and his body grew even hotter. He crawled into the blankets and fiercely pulled Ning Huan into his embrace.
Due to the feverish cold, Ning Huan was sleeping exceptionally deeply. His brow only furrowed slightly, and he did not struggle out. Mu Jinyu sniffed Ning Huan’s neck; it was very fragrant here, but he only sniffed.