Inside Sangzhong City, the newly built Zhanwang Mansion, as requested by His Highness Zhanwang, was built on the vacant land of the original mansion. The poison in the ruins has also been completely cured. The newly completed Zhanwang Mansion is even more magnificent than it was a hundred years ago, with white walls and vermilion gates. The lacquered wooden pillars support a glazed tile roof that shimmers in the sunlight, radiating brilliance.
Inside the newly furnished study of the Prince Zhan's mansion, Qing Han was sitting behind a desk organizing scrolls. These were all sent by people from the palace, and he had no interest in looking at them. He casually found a corner to throw them away and stared blankly at the magnificent and elegant study.
Although he knew a little about everything, he had no leisure or inclination to deliberately dabble in these things. He originally planned to leave after paying respects to his mother, but his elder brother forced him to stay because the anniversary of their father's death was approaching.
He had not forgotten how the Zhanwang Mansion had suffered a hundred years ago, nor had he forgotten how carefree he had been in the Demon Palace.
The happier he was in the Demon Palace, the more unbearable his days in the Royal Palace became, and the less he could bear to stay in this Sangzhong City.
Everyone here smiles when they see him, but no one is truly sincere.
There was another creature that always smiled at him, now perched on his head all day. He glanced up, sighed softly, and folded a scroll of jade slip from the table, placing it on the bookshelf behind him.
The door was suddenly pushed open, and a maidservant entered carrying a tray. She stood with her head bowed beside the table and said, "Your Highness, please have some tea."
Qinghan: "Mm."
"..."
"You're no longer needed here, you can leave."
He didn't stop arranging the jade slips. The maid put down the teacup and suddenly looked up and said, "Does Your Highness need anything? I'll have someone make it for you."
I had heard that His Highness Prince Zhan was a good-tempered person when I came. Now, listening to him speak, I found him to be indeed gentle. In addition, he was also so young and handsome. So, I mustered up my courage and said a few more words.
Qinghan frowned slightly. "No need."
"Then Your Highness..."
The maid was about to speak again when she suddenly noticed that the white ornament on the crown of the Prince Zhan had moved. She thought she was seeing things, but the next moment, the ornament stood up.
"Ah! Your Highness! You...you have a head injury..."
The gleaming white scorpion, its emerald green tail wagging, scurried down from behind Qinghan's ear and settled on his neck.
The maid's eyes widened, and she involuntarily took a step back.
Qinghan was already used to these things, but was startled by the maid's scream, which made her even more dissatisfied with the place.
The servants in the Demon Palace never spoke unless asked a question, and they would never lose their composure like this.
At this moment, Prince Zhan did not consider that the servants in the Demon Palace were used to seeing demons and monsters, and at the very least had the cultivation level of the Nascent Soul stage, while the maid in front of him was just an ordinary person who could not even be considered a cultivator!
He was momentarily distracted, his gaze lingering on the maid for a few more moments. The scorpion on his neck grew restless and slithered inside his slightly open robe.
Qinghan: "..."
"ah!"
Another gasp escaped his lips as the bulge on his robe grew increasingly blatant downwards. Qinghan's face flushed crimson, and as the maid tried to remove his outer garment, he shoved her aside and vanished from the study in the blink of an eye.
Inside the Izumo Palace, the palace door was flung open and then quickly closed again. No one knew that a figure had slipped inside, and soon sounds came from within.
"Come out here!"
Qinghan's face turned bright red, almost bleeding. "You... how could you..."
He covered his abdomen with both hands, and above his hands was a noticeable bulge that was twisting strangely. With his path blocked, the scorpion hidden in his inner shirt returned the way it came and slithered to his chest.
Qinghan felt something brush against his chest, a tingling and slightly stinging sensation that made him freeze completely.
The scorpion's legs had tiny, sharp stingers. It burrowed into his inner shirt in its original form, its eight legs rubbing against him with abandon. An ordinary person would be terrified, and for Qing Han, it was an unspeakable torment.
He frantically reached out to grab the scorpion on his chest, but even through his clothes he could only restrain it somewhat; he couldn't stop his legs from moving and rubbing wildly!
Qinghan said urgently, "If you... if you don't come out, I... I won't forgive you!"
The protrusion suddenly stopped moving, and Qing Han breathed a sigh of relief, finally letting go of him. However, the next moment, there was a "rip" sound, the brocade was torn, and his chest was ripped open, revealing two bright white... scorpion pincers.
"..."
The boy grabbed the scorpion pincers and swung them forward. He was fast, but the scorpion was faster, clamping onto the corner of the boy's sleeve. Unable to break free, Qing Han pulled his hand back and was about to throw it again when a wisp of green smoke flashed before his eyes. The scorpion pincers in his hand had turned into a wrist. Because he was gripping too tightly, he was thrown into the arms of the person who had suddenly appeared.
"Now that you're out, can you forgive me?" Xie Beiying hugged him, and when he tried to break free, she immediately smiled and said, "I'm not in good health, as you said."
I just don't know when it stopped.
Upon hearing the familiar voice and tone, Qinghan froze in her struggle, and even felt a lump in her throat.
He retorted, "Who told you to climb inside my clothes?"
Jie Beiying hugged him closer: "Don't you remember everything? It's happened before."
Qinghan: "You..."
The two drew closer and closer, and he couldn't break free, or perhaps he didn't want to.
The past is the past, and he has become somewhat hazy about what those things felt like.
A century has passed, a century of trepidation, and now we must do those things again...
Qinghan blushed as she thought: He's still very angry!
He pressed his hand against the man's chest, refusing to let go. Suddenly, the man in front of him coughed, and the hand wrapped around his waist loosened slightly. Jie Beiying turned his head away from him, unable to stop coughing. The vibrations in his chest and lungs were transmitted through his palms, and the boy's heart trembled slightly with his coughs.
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