Autumn dusk, Ye City, Ji Province.
In a guesthouse belonging to the Bronze Sparrow Chamber of Commerce, Ji Yanqing groggily awoke on the bed, the faint fragrance of a girl lingering on his clothes.
Staring at the unfamiliar room, he instantly grew wary.
After his constitution was upgraded to top-grade, his recovery ability far surpassed that of ordinary people. The near-fatal injuries from last night were now mostly healed.
The room was elegantly simple, with a slightly worn wooden table holding two burnt-out candelabras. Peeling benches flanked it, and a plaque on the wall read “Guests Feel at Home,” suggesting this was indeed a guesthouse.
Sparrows chirped on the windowsill, while outside, the street bustled with the clamor of carriages and horses.
In moments, Ji Yanqing deduced he was back in Ye City, likely near the East City Gate.
Stepping out from the inner room, he was met with a breathtaking sight that set his blood racing.
About two zhang away, Ji Qingyan lay gracefully on a rattan chair, clad only in thin undergarments. Her skin was as fair as snow, her figure lithe and captivating.
Her slender legs were slightly bent, her delicate hands resting gently, her veiled face now uncovered.
Her brows were like emerald feathers, her lips vibrant and alluring, her face exquisitely beautiful. The faint, seductive curve of her cherry lips invited one to taste their intoxicating bliss.
One glance felt like an eternity.
Even for the Wei King’s Heir, who had seen countless beauties, his heart couldn’t help but stir, his composure faltering.
“Radiant as spring peaches, pure as autumn chrysanthemums—such charm and elegance coexist so perfectly,” Ji Yanqing murmured softly.
A love for beauty is human nature, and his peach-blossom eyes were filled with admiration for the vision before him.
Then, an abrupt voice echoed in his mind.
[So white, so full! Gazing at this stunning scene, you can’t help but recall the mochi-pounding in the mansion. Lifting the mallet, you roughly pound the soft, plump dough until it deforms, but its resilience is remarkable—once the mallet lifts, it springs back to its round, full shape. The process often requires several rounds to…]
Shut up, or I’ll treat you like a mute!
Deep down, His Highness the Heir scoffed, but a flush crept across his face, his gaze inadvertently dipping lower.
At that moment, Ji Qingyan’s eyes snapped open, her dark, clear eyes sparkling and captivating.
Ji Yanqing hurriedly averted his gaze, turning away to feign the demeanor of a gentleman who “sees no impropriety.”
“Miss Ji, the breeze today is quite lively. I must’ve gotten sand in my eyes just now—my apologies for the rudeness.”
“Didn’t expect you to be a lecher…” Ji Qingyan muttered softly, grabbing her skirt and clutching it to cover her jade-like body. Her expression made it clear she didn’t buy his excuse.
“I’m about to change. Please, Young Master Ji, be careful not to get ‘sand’ in your eyes again!”
Confirming he wasn’t peeking, she deftly slipped into her skirt. Her slender waist was impossibly delicate, her legs fair and graceful, wrapped in twin-fish ice-silk stockings—a perfect work of art.
As the autumn breeze cooled, His Highness gazed out at the street, his mind still reeling, the image of her graceful figure etched in his heart.
Near the guesthouse, pleasure houses and gambling dens lined the streets. Vendors hawked their wares, while rogues gathered at tea stalls, engrossed in a storyteller’s tale.
“They say the Wei King’s Heir, Ji Yanqing, is a lustful fiend, reveling in bullying men, oppressing women, and forcing the virtuous into vice. He’s especially fond of targeting married women.”
“Married women? True or not! Old Xu, don’t spin lies. The Heir hasn’t even come of age—does he really have such tastes?”
“Psh, would I lie to you? Two years ago, Widow Wang from the east end fell victim, nearly driven to hang herself.”
“But Widow Wang’s pushing sixty this year.”
“That’s what you don’t understand. That age might deter us, but for His Highness…”
The storyteller paused strategically, slamming his gavel and declaring loudly, “It’s just right!”
The crowd erupted in cheers, those with spare coins tossing him a few coppers.
The tea stall buzzed with lively energy.
Listening to the storyteller weave tales of Ji Yanqing coercing Widow Wang, Ji Yanqing clenched his fists, taking a deep breath.
On any other day, he’d have tipped the storyteller dozens of silver taels and treated the tea stall to fine tea.
The story was well-told, creative, and vivid, as if placing the listener at the scene. Even Ji Yanqing’s sleazy, depraved expression felt so real he wondered if he’d actually done such a vile thing.
In truth, nearly half the storytellers in Ye City were paid by the Wei King’s Mansion to churn out slander about Ji Yanqing, painting him as a perverse, morally bankrupt fiend.
In a way, Ji Yanqing was his own biggest hater.
Ordinary families might take pride in a child’s virtue and ambition, but as the heir of a powerful vassal king, if Ji Yanqing were virtuous and ambitious, he might one day trade his python robe for a dragon one.
In the eyes of the one on the dragon throne, being talentless, debauched, and wasteful was Ji Yanqing’s greatest merit.
“Pah, Ji Yanqing’s utterly conscienceless, stooping to such depraved acts!” Ji Qingyan, now dressed in her tight-fitting outfit and black pleated skirt, spat out. The only difference was the absence of her veil.
“Exactly! That beastly Ji Yanqing—calling him an animal is too kind,” Ji Yanqing chimed in, his face brimming with righteous indignation, as if he wanted to tear himself to pieces.
“With Young Master’s help, I’ll surely slay the Ji clan’s villains!” Ji Qingyan said, clasping her fists in a salute, shaking off the embarrassment of being seen half-dressed and regaining her heroic martial demeanor.
Ji Yanqing only smiled and waved it off, saying nothing.
Suddenly, a knock came at the door.
“Guest, dinner’s ready. Shall I bring it in?”
“No need, I’ll come get it.”
Ji Yanqing gestured for Ji Qingyan to stay quiet, striding forward to crack open the door, locking eyes with the serving boy.
Sometimes, a single glance conveys much.
“Heroine Ji, have breakfast first. At noon, I’ll head to the Wei King’s Mansion to check things out and find a way to get you in.”
The guesthouse’s breakfast was simple: two bowls of plain porridge and a dish of pickled vegetables.
Starving after days in the Ghost Shadow Mountains, Ji Qingyan grabbed the rough bowl and gulped it down.
Noticing someone staring, she reluctantly set it down, smiling brightly. “Just call me Qingyan from now on. We’re friends, aren’t we?”
Ji Yanqing gave a noncommittal smile. “Is Ye City’s porridge good, Miss Qingyan?”
“It’s alright, just a bit bitter.”
“Ye City’s porridge is fine. As for the bitterness…” Ji Yanqing stepped back, still smiling. “That’s likely the lingering effect of the Bone-Softening Powder, not fully dissipated, that you tasted.”
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