Then a pair of slender, fair, and flawless hands reached out. Each smooth, rounded, and neatly manicured hand rested on Li Meng's hand, which had just come out. Although Li Meng's skin was also fair, it was still made dark by those hands that were visibly white and glowing, like works of art. The people upstairs were speechless.

Is Qin Miao, that famous playboy from the capital, really that fair-skinned?

People with hand fetishes are completely absorbed in watching that scene.

Below, Li Meng looked at the fair and delicate hand resting in his palm, a slight smile playing on his lips, dutifully acting as a hand-relieving device for the young master.

A young man with delicate features, like a porcelain doll, walked out. His eyes were striking, and his red lips were slightly pursed. Just one glance from him could make people lose their minds. In an instant, a gentle breeze blew through the young master's hair, and a few graceful strands of hair brushed against his snow-white cheeks. With his black hair and red lips, he was even more beautiful and incomparable.

Without moving or speaking, one is far superior to millions of people.

Some people exclaimed in surprise, "Is that young master really that handsome?"

Many people nodded in agreement, staring longingly at the handsome young master below. It was hard to tell who had gotten the better deal if such a young master went to a brothel.

After getting off the carriage, Qingyin quickly slapped away a young master who had volunteered to be her servant, and then looked around at the teahouse that dared to call itself the First Teahouse.

The teahouse has three floors, and the entrance is wide enough to accommodate seven or eight people at once. The eaves of the teahouse are also exquisitely carved, making it both simple and grand.

It must be said that this teahouse has some merit to dare to call itself the number one teahouse.

Qingyin stepped into the teahouse with great interest, and Li Meng followed behind him at a leisurely pace.

Upon entering the teahouse, the first thing you see is a bustling hall filled with the sounds of scholars of different styles arguing and debating, completely oblivious to who has entered through the main door behind them.

Qingyin curiously moved closer and squeezed next to a young man.

The person was jostled and wanted to yell at the unruly person behind them, "What are you pushing for! Don't you know what's in front of you..." but then a huge, stunningly beautiful face was plastered all over their face from behind.

The young man, who was amazed by her beauty, opened his eyes wide and changed his tone: "Please come in, sir. Why don't you stand in my place and I'll go to the back."

Qingyin looked at him questioningly, "Weren't you watching too?"

Staring into the boy's alluring, fox-like eyes, the young man's mind went completely blank, and he didn't even know what to say. "Ahem, look, the scenery behind us is nice. I prefer to see things from a distance."

Before Li Meng and the others could stop the boy from squeezing into the most crowded area, they watched as the boy was gradually moved to the front and soon disappeared from sight.

They knew the young master was handsome, but they never imagined his face was this striking. Making a living off one's looks is just like this.

The boy who squeezed into the crowd finally saw why everyone was gathered there. It turned out that three people were going to set up a stage to compose poems and essays. Whoever wrote the best would be judged by the people around them, and the one with the most cheers would stay and become the champion. This kind of competition format suited the students' tastes perfectly, and everyone enthusiastically commented on or participated in the activity.

Qingyin, mingling in the crowd, showed no interest in the activity. Disappointed, she turned away and left, unaware that a pair of calm, icy eyes were fixed on her.

Qingyin was quickly spotted by the group after she left the crowd. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. It was fine that the young master was having fun, but it was still worrying that he had disappeared without a trace.

Having learned his lesson, Li Meng was clearly more obedient, following closely behind Qing Yin and introducing her to various activities. The area next to the teahouse had been cleared out by the owner and replaced with small stalls offering condensed mini-activities.

Qingyin played with herself for a while, but then felt tired and hungry. Li Meng, who had been following the young master for five or six years, knew that the young master was tired and hungry and wanted to find a place to rest.

He smiled and said, "Young master, why don't you go to the third floor? There are fewer people there, and there are private rooms. You can rest there and then come down to play."

Qingyin nodded casually, agreeing to his suggestion.

When I got to the third floor, the noise level was much lower. Although it was still noisy, it was tolerable.

Qingyin's slightly furrowed brows relaxed as she stared at Li Meng, her smile deepening.

The group encountered a young man in white. The young man wore a white robe, which was clean but the fabric was obviously not of good quality, indicating that his family background was not high. However, his temperament and physique clearly made up for it. He was tall and slender with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. His handsome face was like a bamboo growing on the edge of a cliff, resilient and unyielding.

Qingyin was surprised, not because the man was unexpectedly handsome, but because the face was familiar—it was Bai Weize, the "true prince" of this body.

Guo Liu, who was walking behind, looked at the man in front of him with amazement. However, for some reason, he felt that the man in front of him was somewhat familiar and looked like someone.

Bai Weize looks like Qin Yi's mother, but only three-tenths like Qin Yi. The most similar feature is his eyebrows and eyes. If Qin Yi were to see him in person, he could probably guess the identity of this young man who looks seven-tenths like his mother.

That's right, but he couldn't remember.

Li Meng showed no expression, but felt a little uncomfortable when he saw Qingyin glancing at the man's back a few more times.

The picky man scrutinized the plain-clothed young man in front of him from head to toe. He was thin and weak, looked like a pretty boy, and his clothes were old and worn out. He looked like a poor wretch. His eyes were also staring at Miao Miao. Honestly, what did Miao Miao see in this scumbag?

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