Chapter 163 The Speed of His Face Change is Unparalleled

Chapter 163: Peerless Speed in Changing His Demeanor

The study of Prince Yu's mansion was bright and clean, with afternoon sunlight streaming through the window lattices. The air carried only the unique scent of wood and metal tools.

On a wide sandalwood long table lay various carving tools, along with several pieces of jade raw materials of different sizes, colors, and textures.

Xiao Yan sat behind the table, dressed in a simple black narrow-sleeved everyday robe, his sleeves neatly secured with wrist guards.

He slightly bowed his head, his thick eyelashes casting a focused shadow under his eyes.

In his right hand, he held an ultra-fine steel engraving needle. His tightly bandaged left thumb and index finger firmly held a white jade blank. Facing the bright light streaming through the window, he carefully and meticulously was engraving something onto an inconspicuous spot inside a thumb ring.

His movements were very slow, his breathing extremely light, his entire mind concentrated on the contact between the tiny knife tip and the jade surface.

After carving a few strokes, he'd stop, examine it closely against the light, or gently brush away the jade dust with his fingertip, then continue. Scattered on the table were many fine, hair-thin jade dust, indicating this work had been going on for quite some time.

"Your Highness," Fu'an entered softly, carrying a cup of ginseng tea. He placed the cup on the corner of the table and glanced at Xiao Yan's focused profile, couldn't help but whisper a suggestion, "You've been at this for several days straight, and your hand was just injured... How about taking a rest today? This delicate work can wait—there's no rush right now."

Xiao Yan didn't look up, his eyes still locked on the jade piece. He only hummed a noncommittal "Mm" from his nose, acknowledging but not stopping his work.

Fu'an knew he couldn't talk him out of it and sighed inwardly. He added, "Then please have a sip of tea to moisten your throat? This jade is hard and both physically and mentally draining..."

Fu'an didn't understand how His Highness could change so thoroughly. A few days ago, he suddenly became obsessed with manual crafts and had the best jade artisans in the capital summoned to the mansion, spending most of a day learning from them.

Initially, Fu'an thought it was just a whim that would fade in a few days. But unexpectedly, he became so absorbed he forgot to eat and sleep.

And now? His palm was nearly cut through, yet he still wouldn't give up!

Even as slow-witted as Fu'an was, he sensed something unusual about this.

Pouring so much effort into something handmade—it must be for someone important.

"Out," Xiao Yan finally said, his voice low. He still didn't look at Fu'an, his tone flat. "Leave the tea. Don't get in the way."

Fu'an choked, knowing his master found him noisy. He quickly replied "Yes," and silently retreated, not daring to say another word.

The room hadn't been quiet for two minutes when there was another knock at the door.

Xiao Yan lifted his head, his voice irritable. "Enter."

The door opened a crack. Fu'an's familiar head, wearing a fawning smile, cautiously poked in. Seeing it was him again, Xiao Yan's barely suppressed irritation immediately hit its peak!

"What is it now?"

Fu'an flinched at Xiao Yan's sharp glare, almost forgetting why he had come.

Though he knew it was annoying to keep disturbing His Highness, he had important business...

"Y-Your Highness," Fu'an said cautiously, "Young Master Liu has arrived. He is waiting in the front hall."

No sooner had he finished speaking than Fu'an felt a blur before his eyes.

The icy, chilling aura that had almost frozen him disappeared as instantly as thin ice under the scorching sun.

His Highness Prince Yu's change of expression was a masterpiece of speed.

He didn't even wait for Fu'an to finish speaking before he leaped to his feet. The movement was too abrupt, knocking over a small file beside his hand, but he didn't bother to pick it up.

By the time Fu'an came to his senses, Xiao Yan was already gone from the study.

In the front hall, Liu Qingci was sitting upright in the guest seat. Today, he wore a sky-blue everyday robe, which made his jade-like skin appear even fairer, his brows and eyes clear and gentle.

Hearing footsteps, he looked up. His eyes, the color of glazed glass, lit up with a soft warmth the moment they met the approaching figure.

Xiao Yan strode in, the hem of his black robe stirring a breeze.

His gaze precisely locked onto the person sitting in the light and shadow. Without slowing his pace, he almost ran over.

Before Liu Qingci could even stand up, Xiao Yan reached his chair and knelt on one knee in front of him.

He extended his arms, palms firmly pressing on the armrests of the chair on either side of Liu Qingci.

This motion carried a possessive undertone, yet because he was looking up at him, it oddly softened that dominance.

"You came to see me, Qingqing?" he said, a smile in his eyes, his tone tender.

From this angle, looking down, Liu Qingci could clearly see Xiao Yan's current appearance.

The man's sharply defined face, caught in the slanting light from the window, was half bright, half hidden in faint shadow, emphasizing the high bridge of his nose and the sharp line of his jaw.

But his eyes, looking up at him, were like deep pools filled with stars. All coldness and sharpness were gone, leaving only worshipful tenderness and an overwhelming, unspoken emotion.

"Mm. You're injured. I was worried."

Liu Qingci took a slight breath to steady his trembling voice. He forced his eyes to move away from Xiao Yan's mesmerizing gaze, settling on his left hand resting on the armrest.

His gaze returned to Xiao Yan's face, this time with a seriousness that brooked no nonsense. "How's your hand? Let me see."

He then used the tip of his finger to gently tap the back of Xiao Yan's hand that was supporting him on the armrest, urging, "Stand up first. Let me see the wound."

It was clearly a commanding tone driven by concern, but because of his slightly flushed cheeks and soft, gentle voice, it sounded to Xiao Yan more like a worried, affectionate reproach.

Xiao Yan's eyes deepened with amusement. He readily released the armrest but didn't stand up immediately. Instead, staying half-kneeling, he naturally raised his right hand—the one that had been supporting the armrest—palm up, and held it out generously in front of Liu Qingci.

"Here, look." His tone was light, even a bit proudly triumphant. "I told you it's fine, but Qingqing didn't believe me."

As he spoke, he even unwrapped all the bandages, letting Liu Qingci clearly see the smooth, unscathed palm.

"Wow... How miraculous!"

Liu Qingci held that hand—which had been bloody just that morning but was now completely unharmed—in both hands, his eyes dazed and confused.

Xiao Yan found his dazed, puzzled expression adorable.

He turned his hand over, gently wrapping Liu Qingci's cool fingertips in his own warm palm, his thumb stroking the back of his hand in a soothing manner.

"Relieved now?"

"Mm..."

Liu Qingci replied softly, with a soft, relieved tenderness.

His long lashes drooped, casting a trembling shadow under his eyes.

Then, looking at their clasped hands, he opened Xiao Yan's previously injured palm and gently pressed a kiss onto it.