The abstinent prince, practicing Buddhism, is seduced by a voluptuous beauty into breaking his vows.

With her last bit of strength, Su Yaoyao pushed He Qing away and slumped against the carriage wall, panting heavily.

She bit her lower lip hard until she tasted the strong metallic taste of blood.

"Stop... fooling me..."

She gasped for breath, each word seemingly squeezed out between her teeth, her voice hoarse from the burning desire, "What...did you do to me?!"

He Qing was pushed away, but he wasn't angry. Instead, he leaned against her and leisurely admired her appearance.

The moonlight cast flickering light on his handsome, almost otherworldly profile.

He looked at Su Yaoyao's flushed cheeks and her moist, misty yet clear eyes, and suddenly sighed softly.

The sigh was very soft, yet it carried a hint of genuine helplessness, and a trace of... pity that even he himself was unaware of.

"My master probably doesn't know," he said, his voice lower than usual, less deliberately seductive, and more shrouded in an indescribable darkness.

"The incense from last time... originated from a rare flower called 'Drunken Dream' from the border of our Liang Kingdom. Later, it was obtained by people in the brothels and they improved it. The men and women in those brothels would use this incense in order to keep their patrons for a few more nights."

He paused, the pity and pain in his eyes becoming more pronounced.

"The first time you get infected, the medication is less potent, the onset is slower, and it's easy to treat."

A subtle smile curved his lips, a hint of mockery in his eyes.

"Judging from Master's appearance... perhaps things haven't progressed further with that high and mighty Crown Prince yet?"

He leaned slightly closer, closing the distance between them, and whispered in a lower, seductive voice:

"That's true, someone as hypocritical as him is always good at putting on a show. But this second time..."

He drawled, "But things won't be so easy then."

Su Yaoyao's heart sank.

He Qing leaned closer, his fingertips gently brushing against her sweat-dampened temples, his voice soft and gentle, as if soothing a child:

"I'm doing this for my master's own good. Isn't this... to test the Crown Prince's true feelings for you?"

He chuckled softly, his voice seductive: "If he's not even willing to make an exception for you just once..."

Then he is not good enough for you.

"For my...good?" She trembled with rage, her voice weak and utterly devoid of any threat. "You gave me such...despicable, filthy stuff...and you say it's for my own good?!"

He Qing chuckled softly, the sound echoing in the narrow carriage, carrying a strange sense of desolation.

He looked at her for a moment, then suddenly reached out and pinched her chin. The force was not strong, but it was not easy for her to break free.

"Is Master feeling increasingly unwell?" He gently stroked the smooth skin of her chin with his thumb, his eyes darkening.

Su Yaoyao could feel her breathing becoming more and more rapid, and the empty, itchy feeling deep inside her body was almost driving her crazy. She bit her lip tightly, refusing to let out a single moan.

"Stop biting..." He Qing stared at her, and in those peach blossom eyes that were always filled with amusement and calculation, a hint of real pain was now clearly reflected.

"Seeing you treat yourself like this...it breaks my heart."

He moved even closer, their breaths almost mingling:

"My appearance..." His voice lowered, carrying a sacrificial allure, "Take a closer look, is it truly... unappealing to your eyes?"

Su Yaoyao was forced to look at him.

"Why don't you..." he lowered his voice, his breath brushing against her ear, "...take a look at me?"

The medicine made her dizzy and lightheaded, but in that hazy state, she suddenly felt... something seemed different about He Qing's face.

The previous He Qing was flamboyantly beautiful, with a sinister charm, like a poppy blooming on the edge of a cliff, alluring yet dangerous.

But now, in the dim light, the nonchalant languor in his eyes faded, replaced by something deeper, almost solitary... which felt strangely familiar to her.

It feels like I've seen it somewhere before.

No, I haven't seen it before.

Who does he/she resemble?

She stared at him for a long time, and suddenly Xiao Chenyuan's aloof and ethereal face flashed through her mind.

One is as aloof as a Buddha, the other as stunningly beautiful as a demon.

These two extreme sides are now strangely overlapping.

The thought startled her, a chill mixed with the heat making her shiver.

He Qing keenly caught the fleeting look of shock and realization in her eyes.

He chuckled softly, a laugh that carried a hint of understanding, and also a touch of... self-mockery.

"Master... has he finally found out?" he murmured, as if talking to himself, or as if speaking to her.

Before she could finish speaking, his face drew closer again, and deep within those ever-smiling eyes, a profound undercurrent she couldn't fathom surged.

His slightly cool nose almost touched hers, his rosy lips were inches away—

"call out--!"

The sharp whistling sound tore through the air, ripping apart the thick, ambiguous atmosphere inside the carriage!

An arrow, carrying a sharp killing intent, shot straight in like a black lightning bolt!

He Qing reacted extremely quickly, suddenly turning his head to the side.

A warm liquid slid down He Qing's cheek.

He raised his hand, his fingertips lightly tracing the surface—and a thin, long bloodstain appeared starkly on that perfect face.

The blood against the pale skin created an eerie beauty.

"Oh dear..." he shook his head and sighed, his tone full of regret, "You've come at a really bad time."

He slowly straightened up, as if the tense closeness between them had never happened. With one hand, he gracefully opened the carriage door.

The carriage had stopped in a deserted area at some unknown time.

The twilight was as red as blood, and all was silent.

Dozens of guards in black surrounded the carriage, their crossbows aimed at the carriage.

Before everyone else stood Xiao Chenyuan, dressed in a black outfit, holding a longbow.

That face, which was usually as aloof and ethereal as a banished immortal, was now covered with a layer of ice that could freeze one's very bones.

His gaze pierced through the dim light of the carriage, past He Qing who was blocking the door, and locked onto Su Yaoyao, who was slumped inside the carriage, her face flushed and her eyes glazed.

In that instant, a terrifying storm, powerful enough to incinerate everything, surged in his eyes.

"Take your hand," Xiao Chenyuan said, his voice low, but each word like an ice spike, chilling with killing intent.

"Take it off her."

He Qing raised an eyebrow, but instead of retreating, he turned to the side, making Su Yaoyao even more completely hidden.

He unfolded the folding fan he never let go of in his hand with a "whoosh," and slowly waved it, his face once again displaying that charming, wicked smile.

"Your Highness...you have quite a temper."

He raised his eyes, meeting Xiao Chenyuan's icy gaze without fear, the corner of his lips curving into a provocative and playful smile:

"Hands... Since Your Highness has spoken, I can naturally refrain from touching her."

He paused slightly, closed his folding fan lightly, tapped his palm, and then abruptly changed the subject:

"but……"

He tilted his head, his thin lips parted slightly, and he spoke slowly and deliberately.

"Did you bring what I asked for tonight?"

"Cousin~"