“It’s nothing much, really. This is my first time being in love, and there are some things I don’t understand, so I wanted to ask the Prince for advice.”

Yu Jingfeng looked at the two men nearby, that smile carrying a smugness plain for anyone to see.

The three men in the tent had spent no small amount of time around Feng Jiu’er — they certainly knew what “being in love” meant as a joke.

“Ahem—” Long Yi couldn’t help but cough hard, shooting Yu Jingfeng a glance.

Yu Jingfeng kept smiling, that self-satisfied look on his face as if he were trying to blind everyone else.

“Lord Yu, since when have you been in love?” Long Shiyi looked utterly baffled. “Does the Prince know?”

Ha! Lord Yu had actually fallen in love, and was showing it off outright.

“He should know.” Yu Jingfeng reined in his smile and crossed his long legs.

“My fiancée is Xuepiao from Tianji Hall — didn’t you two already know that?”

“No idea.”

“Don’t know!”

Two different voices rang out at the same time — the deeper one belonging to Long Yi, the more cheerful one to Long Shiyi.

Yu Jingfeng frowned. Why was it that when the Prince fell in love, everyone knew about it, but when he himself fell in love, even Long Shiyi claimed not to know?

Had he and Xuepiao really been that low-key about it?

He laughed and said, “I figured everyone already knew.”

Thinking that he’d get to see Xuepiao once they got back, Yu Jingfeng’s spirits lifted, his brows practically dancing with joy.

“Well, now you know — sigh…” Suddenly he let out a sigh.

“Xuepiao’s always a bit cold toward me, and the Prince won’t give me any pointers either — I only wanted to ask how to dote on a girl properly, and he threw me out for it.”

“Pfft — hahaha!” Long Shiyi finally couldn’t hold it in.

“You actually asked the Prince something like that? No wonder he threw you out.”

“Lord Yu, I think you might just be tired of living, haha…”

For Yu Jingfeng to have reached the position he now held, there was no doubt he’d put in his fair share of effort in the past.

Long Shiyi found it strange too — how could Yu Jingfeng possibly speak so carelessly in front of the Prince?

So it turned out he’d simply been addled by this so-called “love” of his.

“And besides, if I recall, isn’t it just you who’s fallen for Miss Xuepiao one-sidedly? If she doesn’t like you back, of course she’d act cold.”

“Lord Yu, how could I—pfft—hahaha—”

Long Shiyi doubled over laughing, clutching his stomach.

“Lord Yu… hahaha… so this is the real you, hahaha…”

While the two traded jabs back and forth, Long Yi suddenly frowned.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, raised both hands slowly in front of his chest, then turned his palms and pressed them slowly back down.

He set his palms back on his knees, eyes still closed, the crease between his brows still not smoothing out.

Yu Jingfeng, unaware of whatever earth-shattering nonsense he’d apparently just complained about, kept clutching his stomach as Long Shiyi nearly collapsed with laughter.

“Hahaha…”

Yu Jingfeng wasn’t angry at all — the smile at the corners of his mouth never faded, his mood clearly wonderful.

His little lady was drawing closer to them with every passing moment — how could he not be happy?

No doubt, the moment Di Wuya said it was time to head back, Yu Jingfeng would be the first one out the door.

Over in Di Wuya’s tent, all was quiet, save for the occasional rustle of pages being turned.

Time passed, drop by drop, until suddenly he closed the book, propped his elbow on the table, and pressed a slender, well-defined finger to his temple.

His deep eyes closed briefly; he gave his head a light shake.

As if the people outside had been waiting for exactly this moment, the tent flap lifted and figures stepped inside.

All of them were women — six in total.

These women wore clothing that was, to put it mildly, sparing with fabric. Anyone who didn’t know better might have assumed Mao Zhongcai was too poor to afford them proper clothes.

In the chill of this early spring night, the six women drifted into the tent like a gust of wind, holding gauze scarves, dancing gracefully.

Their bodies were wrapped in little more than a single layer of sheer silk, enough to set anyone’s blood racing.

And yet, strangely, the temperature in the tent didn’t rise despite the presence of these beautiful, gracefully dancing women.

Di Wuya rested his head on his hand, eyes closed, not even sparing a glance at these women dressed to catch the eye.

The women danced for a while, then stopped, exchanging glances with one another.

None of them said a word. They began to dance again, this time drawing closer to Di Wuya together.

Di Wuya’s perfection was rare in this world, and it left these women’s eyes glowing with nothing but desire.

Tonight would surely be a fine night — the night itself need not be enchanting, so long as there was beauty to be had.

The six women gazed at Di Wuya’s flawless, matchless profile as though they were wolves in a forest eyeing their prey.

Closer, closer, ever closer.

As the distance shrank, the glint in the women’s eyes sharpened further.

Even if the man truly fainted, that would be perfect for their purposes too.

Di Wuya kept his head resting on his hand, eyes closed, without the slightest stir — even his breathing stayed as even as if he were deeply asleep, or unconscious.

And the innate chill that clung to him now drifted through the air around him, only exciting the women further.

The sound of hoofbeats approached from a distance; after a brief, faint clash of a struggle, silence returned outside.

The women who had paused turned to look for a moment; once things outside quieted down, the corners of their mouths curved up in unison.

“Everything is going exactly as the city lord planned. Let’s go.”

“Go.”

“Heh.”

The gazes of those six wolves locked onto Di Wuya once more.

Di Wuya, who had intended to make his move, kept his original posture perfectly still after hearing the faint, nearly imperceptible footsteps approaching from outside.

“Tonight is truly wonderful!”

“So powerful! So gorgeous!”

“Simply incredible! To think such a perfect man exists in this world.”

No one knew just how formidable Di Wuya’s skills truly were, but he clearly wasn’t ordinary.

Unfortunately for him, no one could escape the city lord’s odorless, colorless drug — or so they believed.

However skilled Di Wuya might be, to them he was merely all the more alluring for it.

“Handsome one, we’ll take good care of you tonight.”

“Handsome one, we’ll be gentle.”

“Handsome one…”

One after another, the tall, beautiful women reached their claws out toward Di Wuya.

Just as they were about to touch the “unconscious” handsome man, a gust of wind swept the tent flap up.

The six women shuddered; when they turned, their long hair and sleeves were tossed by the wind.

The wind was so fierce it made them sway, nearly forcing their eyes shut.

“Who’s there?” The woman in the lead stared at the blurred dark figure who had entered.

Feng Jiu’er looked at the man sitting motionless with his head propped on his hand, and a fierce, violent light flashed instantly in her eyes.

“What are you all doing?” She narrowed her eyes coldly, glaring at these barely-clothed women.

The six women didn’t look like weaklings either. After the gust of wind passed, they quickly composed themselves and closed in on Feng Jiu’er.

Three stood in front, three behind, spacing themselves apart in neat formation.

With a ringing clang, all six tall women drew long swords from their waists at once.

The woman standing in the center fixed a cold stare on Feng Jiu’er. “Prepare to die!”