Jinbao ran off at full speed, and in an instant, only Jun Huailang and Xue Yan remained in the western side hall.
Jun Huailang held the measuring tape and watched Jinbao’s retreating figure. For a moment, he was somewhat puzzled.
…Why did he leave in such a hurry, as if a ghost were chasing him?
Just then, Xue Yan raised his head and looked toward Jun Huailang.
He was standing in front of the door, the door panels wide open. The warm sunlight outside streamed in, illuminating every speck of dust floating around him. Like mist, or a veil of gauze, it softly curled around him.
At this moment, his expression was somewhat vacant, making his overly aloof features appear to have a few traces of an innocent little animal. Those eyes were deep black and clear, like a pair of translucent obsidians, as though an immortal elder from the heavens had breathed life into them, turning them into spirits capable of ensnaring one’s soul.
Only when looking at Jun Huailang did Xue Yan believe that immortals existed in this world.
Because the person before him always seemed as though he had accidentally fallen from the heavens into the mortal world.
Xue Yan was rarely so dazed. Holding the scroll in his hand, he unconsciously clenched it until the pages became wrinkled.
After a moment, he put down the book and stood expressionlessly, saying in a low voice, “This servant has no manners. I’ll send someone to catch him and bring him back.”
His tone was extremely cold, as though deliberately concealing the momentary lapse in his composure just now.
Hearing this, Jun Huailang turned around and hurriedly stopped him. “There’s no need to trouble yourself. I’ll go call—”
He turned around and was just about to call Fuyi inside when he suddenly remembered that on the way here, he had been thinking about something he wanted to say to Xue Yan.
Consort Shu wanted to make clothes for Xue Yan. Jun Huailang knew that because of what had happened a few days ago, she felt that Xue Yan had suffered an injustice and was awkwardly trying to make it up to him.
And now, Xue Yan could also be considered a child under Consort Shu’s care. Once spring came and Jun Huailang left this place for Jiangnan, only Xue Yan would remain in Mingluan Palace.
Xue Yan had a cold temperament, while Consort Shu was the sort of person who was awkward and needed others to take the initiative to dote on her. Jun Huailang imagined that by then, the two of them would probably remain clearly separated, neither having anything to do with the other, cold and distant.
So Jun Huailang wanted to take advantage of these days to try to bring Xue Yan and Consort Shu closer. Once he left, at least Consort Shu would not feel so lonely.
Xue Yan stood where he was, waiting for him to continue.
Jun Huailang felt that these words would be more appropriate to say in private. He paused for a moment, then smiled at Xue Yan.
“There’s no need for all that trouble. I know how to take measurements. I’ll measure you.”
As he spoke, he took the measuring tape and walked toward him.
Xue Yan paused at his words.
He had never had his measurements taken for tailored clothing and had no idea how he was supposed to measure his body.
He had lived in Yan Commandery since childhood and had grown up in the military camp, climbing, rolling, and fighting around just like ordinary soldiers. Naturally, there had never been maidservants or attendants to take his measurements and make clothes for him.
From the time the Prince of Yan sent him into the military camp, he had worn standard military uniforms made in batches. Fortunately, thanks to his bloodline, he had been somewhat taller and larger since childhood. Aside from his clothes not fitting particularly well during the first two years, there had been no problems afterward.
Even so, he had always been like wild grass, able to live freely wherever he was. No matter what kind of environment he was in, or what unfamiliar field he faced, he could always confront it calmly and steadily.
But in front of Jun Huailang, he suddenly felt somewhat awkward, even carrying a trace of inferiority.
The other man was a young master who had grown up surrounded by silks and brocades, an elegant and handsome young lord raised in luxury from childhood. Yet he himself carried an unremovable earthy smell, mixed with the scent of gunpowder smoke and blood.
He watched as Jun Huailang took out paper and brush, then unrolled the measuring tape and carefully examined the numbers on it.
Jun Huailang was very close to him. When he lowered his head, Xue Yan could see the crown of his black hair. The faint, clean scent of wood, like the dust floating around Jun Huailang moments ago, teased the tip of Xue Yan’s nose.
He stood rooted to the spot, his heart hurriedly beating twice, and suddenly he did not know where to put his hands and feet.
Jun Huailang, meanwhile, had merely seen this done many times and was accustomed to taking measurements; he had never actually attended to someone else himself. Once he stood beside Xue Yan, all his attention went to studying the soft measuring tape, and he failed to notice anything unusual about Xue Yan.
“That day, I really have you to thank.” He casually spoke while reading the numbers on the measuring tape. “If you hadn’t suggested having the Emperor search Dian Cui’s room, no one would have known even now why Auntie has never had a child.”
Xue Yan hummed. His voice was slightly hoarse, and he did not respond further.
He had always been a man of few words, so Jun Huailang did not notice anything amiss. After reading the measurement, he lifted the measuring tape.
Only then did he notice that Xue Yan seemed to be standing straighter than usual, his shoulders and back rigidly upright, like a soldier standing in formation.
Indeed, someone who had come out of a military camp carried a different bearing from ordinary people, whether walking or standing.
Still unaware of anything unusual, Jun Huailang could not help sighing inwardly. He walked around to Xue Yan’s back and naturally raised his hand, pressing one end of the tape against Xue Yan’s shoulder.
The pressure of his hand was very light. He merely held the soft measuring tape in place against Xue Yan’s shoulder, like the tip of a dragonfly’s tail lightly touching the surface of a lake and creating a circle of ripples.
For no reason at all, Xue Yan’s back stiffened. The spot where Jun Huailang pressed felt as though an acupoint had been struck, his muscles suddenly taut.
Meanwhile, Jun Huailang pulled the tape and casually said, “But ever since that day, Auntie’s mood hasn’t been very good. In a few more days, classes at the Hall of Literary Brilliance will be suspended. At that time, if you’re free, would you come with me to the main hall and keep her company?”
His warm breath happened to fall faintly against the back of Xue Yan’s neck.
In his younger years, Xue Yan had once been ambushed by the Turks and had suffered a poisoned needle from the barbarians. The poison was extracted from the stinger of a venomous bee. A single strike would cause half a person’s body to become numb, making them lose their ability to fight.
When that warm breath landed on the back of Xue Yan’s neck, his spine tightened. He felt as though a tiny, soft needle had pricked the back of his neck as well.
But the numbness caused by the poisoned needle had been a dense, prickling pain. His neck at this moment, however, was filled with a tingling numbness, carrying an unsettling itch that sent a current of electricity through every part of his body.
His mind became somewhat sluggish because of it.
It was not until Jun Huailang behind him failed to receive an answer and called his name again that Xue Yan finally managed to hear him.
“Mm.” He forced himself to remain calm, concealing his momentary distraction.
Only after saying that “mm” did he belatedly recall what Jun Huailang had just asked him. What was it he wanted him to do?
Ah, it was about Consort Shu.
Xue Yan barely managed to recover some of his senses. He thought to himself that the little peacock could indeed rest assured about this matter. He had already regarded him as one of his own long ago. Naturally, everything belonging to his family would also be gathered beneath his own wings.
Although he looked as though he could barely protect himself, protecting them was actually not difficult.
Xue Yan lowered his eyes without revealing anything.
With his attention distracted by serious matters, the tingling at the back of his neck also faded somewhat. He even involuntarily began reviewing his next plan again, checking whether there were any oversights.
Just then, the presence behind him suddenly drew closer.
“One chi three… one chi four… How much is this?”
Jun Huailang was completely focused. His attention was entirely on the soft measuring tape in his hands, and he did not notice that he had suddenly moved closer to Xue Yan. His murmured words, accompanied by warm breath, sounded beside Xue Yan’s ear.
Another tiny poisoned needle left Xue Yan’s mind numb.
He froze in place, like a statue.
Suddenly, words spoken by those old soldiers when he had been in the military two years earlier flashed through his mind.
Back then, they would camp at night on the battlefield, lighting fires and gathering around them for warmth. When the soldiers chatted, their conversations would inevitably turn to those matters.
“…Women, every last one of them can practically breathe immortal qi. No matter how great your anger is, if some woman blows a breath beside your ear, whose soul wouldn’t fly straight up into the clouds?”
“Don’t look at Young General Xue’s cold face and think he doesn’t care. That’s only because he hasn’t experienced that kind of sensation!”
“Hey, once you’ve experienced it even once, Young General, even if your bones were made of iron, they’d still melt to pieces!”
Those soldiers were always ready with filthy jokes. Occasionally, they would boldly tease him a few times, and Xue Yan would simply let the words pass through one ear and out the other.
But now, those nonsensical words suddenly resurfaced in his ears. In the midst of his panic and confusion, an indescribable fire surged and crashed around inside his body, yet could find no outlet. It seemed to set every meridian in his body ablaze.
Just then, Xue Yan heard a clear, crisp voice.
“Fifth Highness, raise your arms.”
It was like sweet rain pouring over that nameless flame.
Xue Yan obediently raised his arms and stretched them out horizontally.
Immediately afterward, a pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind.
Those hands gathered together in front of him. At the same time, Jun Huailang’s cheek lightly bumped against his back.
That crisp, clean birch-like fragrance seemed like vines, gently winding around him.
“Especially those arms. Once they wrap around you, who’s going to be able to escape?”
That bastard’s words sounded in his ears again.
The nameless fire in his chest began crashing restlessly in every direction, pounding so hard that even his heart began thundering.
Jun Huailang was somewhat inexperienced. He bumped awkwardly against Xue Yan’s back. One hand held the measuring tape while the other groped around twice before finally grasping the other end of the tape.
Those hands were long and slender, with distinct knuckles, so white that they seemed almost translucent down to the bones.
They were clearly a pair of clean, beautiful hands, yet without the slightest hint of femininity. But in Xue Yan’s mind, those soldiers’ words rang out again.
“Especially those little hands. Once she touches you, can you really endure it without taking her right there?”
That nameless fire finally found an outlet. It suddenly plunged downward, pierced through his heart and lungs, and surged straight toward the point three inches below his abdomen.
Amid his fiercely burning reason, Xue Yan suddenly remembered a line of poetry he had once read:
“An immortal strokes my crown; with tied hair, I receive eternal life.”
Now, the immortal had hooked his arms around his waist.
With only the slightest pull, he could send Xue Yan straight down to the bottom of the eighteenth level of hell—and Xue Yan would go willingly.