Chapter 30: Chapter Thirty This Little Male Favorite, Isn’t He a Spirit That Sucks Vitality?…

Chapter Thirty: This Young Male Favorite—Could He Be a Seductive Spirit Draining Vitality?

In the prince's manor kitchen, Wang Pangzi gazed sorrowfully at the dinner, reheated thrice, pondering: "Have my culinary skills truly faltered, or has the master grown weary of my cooking? Two hours have passed, yet no one has called for the meal!"

Wang Pangzi was questioning his life's purpose, while the prince, oblivious to his chef's distress, was contentedly embracing the exhausted assassin, showering him with rare affection. After their intimate moments, he finally remembered his companion needed cleaning. He rose, instructed the attendant outside to prepare hot water, then returned to carry the man to the bathing room.

Wei San was utterly spent; he remained unconscious even as he was thoroughly washed and handled. Wei Zheng, initially intending to rouse him for a bite, immediately abandoned the thought. Fully satisfied, he lay back down, holding Wei San close.

By the time hunger stirred Wei San awake, Wei Zheng had long departed for morning court.

Unlike the sticky discomfort before he fell asleep, his body felt clean and refreshed, clearly having been meticulously cared for during the night—even changed into clean inner garments.

Wei San was taken aback, having expected to clean himself upon waking. He vaguely recalled the master personally tending to him the previous night, and a warmth spread through his chest, giving him the fleeting illusion of being cherished.

Moved, he tried to shift, but a sharp pain made him hiss. His body ached more intensely than the first time, as if his limbs had been pulled by five horses running at full gallop. His throat felt as dry and rough as parched earth that had gone without water for three days.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he struggled to sit up. Before he could even swing his legs off the bed, the steward Li Dan entered with two maids. Upon seeing him out of bed, Li Dan gasped and rushed to support him.

“Young master, why are you up already? Lie back down at once!”

Li Dan’s face was etched with anxiety, his gaze disapproving. He gently but firmly pressed Wei San back against the headboard, thoughtfully propping a pillow behind him, and chattered on: “Before leaving for court, His Highness specifically instructed this old servant to ensure you rest properly. If you need anything, just tell me.”

Wei San’s throat and entire body ached. Li Dan’s gentle push nearly strained his back. He didn’t necessarily want to get up; he merely craved a drink of water. But Li Dan clearly had no intention of letting him leave the bed. He weakly pointed toward the tea set on the table. Before he could speak, Li Dan, understanding his unspoken need, turned to a maid: “Hurry and pour a cup of tea for the young master! Where is your attentiveness?”

“Yes!”

The maid flinched at the scolding but dared not delay, quickly pouring and presenting the tea. She intended to assist Wei San, but he recoiled in alarm, avoiding her touch.

“I can manage myself.”

To prevent the maid from being overly solicitous, Wei San, his voice a hoarse rasp, swiftly took the cup and drank it in one gulp.

After several cups, his parched throat finally felt soothed, and Wei San began to feel somewhat revived.

“Young master, His Highness mentioned you hadn’t eaten all night. The kitchen has already prepared breakfast. Would you like it served now, or shall we wait a bit longer?”

Steward Li Dan was diligent and attentive. His reminder made Wei San realize his hunger. He hadn’t eaten dinner the previous night and had expended energy throughout the night—no wonder, besides the soreness, he felt weak and listless. It was likely due to hunger.

“Now, please,” he said.

Fifteen minutes later, Wei San declined the maids’ offer to help him freshen up. After inquiring about Wei Zheng’s schedule, he dismissed all three.

The steward frowned, seemingly reluctant to leave. Wei San had to repeatedly assure him that he would obediently rest in bed after finishing breakfast. Only after watching him eat and lie back down did the steward finally lead the others away.

The room fell quiet again, allowing Wei San to breathe a sigh of relief.

A rustling sound came from outside the window. His gaze sharpened as he looked over, just in time to lock eyes with Wei Jiu, who was halfway through climbing in.

Noticing the familiar small blue-glazed porcelain bottle in Wei Jiu’s hand, Wei San’s face darkened. “What are you doing climbing through the window so early?”

“Third Brother,” Wei Jiu chuckled awkwardly, rubbing his nose. He waved the small bottle. “This is the ‘Golden Wind and Jade Dew Ointment’ commonly used by male courtesans in brothels. I thought you might need it, so I brought you one.”

Wei San: “.........”

No wonder it looked familiar—it was exactly the same as the one Commander Duan had given him!

“I don’t need it!”

Wei San felt both embarrassed and annoyed, though his face remained expressionless as he ordered Wei Jiu to leave.

Though young, Wei Jiu was skilled at reading people. He knew Wei San was just shy, so he ignored the murderous glare and quickly tossed the bottle onto the bed. “Third Brother, don’t be shy. Those who take the submissive role always suffer a bit more—you must take good care of yourself. It wouldn’t be worth it if you got sick.”

Afraid Wei San might jump up and beat him, Wei Jiu fled immediately after speaking, not even bothering to close the window.

Wei San massaged his throbbing temples, irritated, and resolved to settle the score with Wei Jiu later.

After Wei San accepted his situation, he no longer avoided Wei Zheng’s advances. He became obedient and pliant, granting every request—whatever Wei Zheng said, he did. He even blushed but agreed to study positions from illustrated books of male romance together.

This delighted Wei Zheng immensely. With a wave of his hand, he rewarded all the servants in the manor with an extra month’s wages—including the assassins and covert guards.

“I used to think Wei San’s favor was just a superficial act for outsiders, but it seems the master truly dotes on him.”

Wei Er weighed the heavy purse in his hand, grinning from ear to ear as he plotted to find some entertainment with a woman after his shift.

Wei Liu remained silent, looking down and fiddling with the broken silver in his money bag. Hearing this, he nodded in agreement.

Wei Jiu, however, was rather worried: “I have a feeling that, given how the master is coveting him like a treasure, Third Brother’s wish to return to the Assassin Camp might be in jeopardy.”

He knew better than anyone how much Wei San wanted to return.

Wei Wu, who had just returned from gathering information outside, rapped him on the head: “Why overthink it? It’s not like the master would take Wei San as a concubine, right?”

Everyone knew it was impossible. The master was still going to marry a daughter from a noble family—why would he give up the support of a powerful clan for a mere assassin?

“You’re right.”

Wei Jiu nodded, immediately tossing his worries aside and eagerly joining the discussion about where to find entertainment that evening.

Duan Lin, observing the excited assassins below, wasn’t as optimistic. Based on his understanding of Wei Zheng, once he set his mind on something, he would stop at nothing to obtain it. And once he had it, he would never let go.

Unless Wei San betrayed his master, it was unlikely he would ever return to the Assassin Camp.

Wei San, at the center of others’ discussions, was completely unaware. At that moment, he was surrounded by maids helping him dress and apply makeup.

“Young master, please hold still. Let me apply a bit of rouge for you—I guarantee it will captivate His Highness.”

A maid giggled as she used a fine eyebrow brush to dot a bright red teardrop mole under his almond-shaped eyes. His already alluring eyes now carried an even more enchanting charm, mixed with a touch of fragility and subtle melancholy—enough to make anyone want to hold him close and cherish him.

Blessed with naturally good skin, Wei San had never worn makeup before. Today was his first time, like a blushing bride on her wedding day.

He had initially refused, but the maids insisted it was by the master’s orders—he wanted Wei San dressed up nicely to take him to the Qiqiao Temple Fair in the capital after his duties.

The master’s command struck right at Wei San’s weakness. Though he disliked it, he endured.

The maids styled his hair and pinned it up, examining him for a moment before deciding something was missing. One maid hurried out and returned with a fully bloomed, vibrant red rose.

She tucked the rose behind his ear and sincerely praised, “Young master, you are truly beautiful. I doubt even the capital’s top beauty could compare to a third of your elegance.”

Though it was just a comparison of looks, Wei San, as a man, didn’t enjoy being likened to a woman. However, he couldn’t bring himself to scowl at a well-meaning young girl and could only say helplessly, “Miss, please don’t tease me.”

“How is it teasing? I’m only speaking the truth.”

His gentle temper made the maids giggle among themselves, but those who worked in the manor knew how to read the room. They stopped teasing him about his appearance and instead began helping him try on outfit after outfit.

After nearly an hour of being primped and preened, Wei San was nearly numb.

But there was no denying the maids’ skill. Wei San, already favored by heaven with exquisite features, was made even more captivating by the red flower and the crimson dot under his eye. The makeup, which should have been overly bold, was balanced by the soft, moon-white wide-sleeved robe, blending a touch of cool elegance and fragility.

He looked at the stunning, androgynous beauty in the bronze mirror and almost didn’t recognize himself.

He couldn't help but recall how his master had praised his beauty more than once. He had never taken it seriously, but now, after such meticulous grooming, he truly began to appreciate his own striking appearance.

Fortunately, he was not a narcissistic person. After merely glancing at himself a few more times, he stood up and chose a half-face fox mask to wear. Under the reproachful gazes of the maids, who seemed to accuse him of wasting such beauty, he put on the mask and instructed, "Prepare the carriage. It's almost time for the Virtuous Prince to finish his duties. We must not keep him waiting."

The maids had no choice but to escort him toward the mansion gate. As the group arrived at the mansion's gate, the carriage happened to be pulled to a stop by a servant.

Wei San dismissed the maids, taking only Wei Jiu, disguised as a servant, and Wei Liu, disguised as a coachman.

Having been unrestrained the previous night, Wei San had barely gotten any sleep after being kept awake most of the night. After being groomed and dressed by the maids all afternoon, he was worn out shortly after boarding the carriage.

He called out to the outside, "I'm going to rest for a while. When we arrive, remember to wake me up."

Wei Liu, acting as the coachman, lifted the carriage curtain and acknowledged with a 'Yes'. Wei Jiu, who had been eager to get a good look at him, could only regretfully give up the idea.

The carriage swayed gently along the official road in the outskirts of the capital. After about an hour, it came to a steady halt in front of the Ministry of Personnel's main gate.

It was the time when officials were finishing their duties, and many from the ministry were already trickling out. The carriage from the Prince's mansion was easily recognizable. The officials glanced curiously but paid little attention—until the coachman leaned down and lifted a corner of the carriage curtain, revealing the beauty inside, who was resting with one slender hand supporting his cheek and his eyes closed in slumber.

Passing officials stopped in their tracks, captivated by the sight.

The reason was simple: the beauty inside the carriage was exceptionally handsome. No one in the capital had ever seen anyone with such remarkable looks. They wondered which noble family had raised such an elegant, uniquely handsome young master.

Some officials who had attended palace banquets at the Taihe Hall found him increasingly familiar. After a moment of careful recollection, they suddenly realized—wasn't this the male favorite Young Master Sui Yun, whom the Virtuous Prince treasured beyond measure? How could he be even more beautiful than before? Could it be that this young male favorite was some kind of supernatural being, draining others' vitality to maintain his youth and beauty?