Just a few steps away, Jin Anzai was watching this scene in astonishment.
In order to not reveal any flaws, complete this deal, and secure the six hundred taels, Lin Ting had truly gone all out.
He felt ashamed of his own inadequacy.
Lin Ting paid no heed to the gazes of others, still desperately trying to kiss Duan Ling, silently counting in her mind.
Having finally succeeded in her sneak attack, she naturally wanted to give it her all to complete the task of kissing.
A cool breeze gently blew past, filling her nostrils with the rich aroma of wine.
The hand covering Duan Ling’s eyes was slightly sweaty, and the skin where Lin Ting pressed against him produced a faint friction.
The light dance dress pressed against the bright red Feiyu uniform, the blue and red fabrics intertwining in the wind.
The small bells hanging from her waist occasionally and gently bumped against the embroidered Chun sword at Duan Ling’s waist, producing a somewhat pleasant, irregular jingling sound.
The backyard of Prince Liang’s residence fell into a brief silence due to Lin Ting’s unexpected kiss.
Duan Ling’s eyes were covered, plunging him into darkness, making his senses more acute.
The unfamiliar softness of her lips pressed against his, and as the fragrant wine was passed into his mouth, her tongue inadvertently brushed against his lips.
The intoxicating aroma of the wine seemed capable of making one lose consciousness just by smelling it.
Duan Ling’s eyelashes fluttered slightly, but he suddenly exerted force with his wrist, pushing Lin Ting away.
He lifted his eyes, slightly red from choking on the wine, to look at her, resembling a beautiful ghost cloaked in a stunning exterior.
The moment they separated, Lin Ting’s veil naturally fell, covering her slightly reddened lips and wine-stained chin, leaving only her smooth forehead and a pair of eyes.
Lin Ting looked at Duan Ling, realizing with frustration that she had failed again.
She immediately hung her head, remaining motionless, appearing on the surface like a “dancer” who had finally admitted her mistake and was obediently waiting for the nobleman’s judgment, while internally she was cursing profusely.
She had already gone all out, publicly kissing Duan Ling without regard for her own dignity.
Although her face was concealed by the thin veil, and the aristocratic young men did not know her true identity, that wasn’t the main point.
The main point was that she had failed again.
Having missed this opportunity, there might not be another.
Ten breaths, this time she had only kissed him for ten breaths…
Was it any consolation that the kiss lasted a bit longer?
Oh well.
At least she had kissed him, and she wouldn’t be required by Prince Liang to “atone with her death.”
She could continue to hide her identity in Prince Liang’s residence, look for someone, complete the bookstore’s deal, and receive three hundred taels.
Lin Ting thought optimistically.
She just felt quite sorry for Duan Ling, having been publicly kissed by someone he despised her.
Even though Duan Ling didn’t know that the dancer who kissed him was her, she knew.
Lin Ting swore that if she ever had the chance, she would make it up to him.
But talking about money would hurt their relationship, it was too vulgar, and it would tarnish her guilt towards Duan Ling.
Lin Ting would never admit that she was reluctant to part with the money; mainly, Duan Ling wasn’t short of money, and she could compensate him in other ways.
For example, she could use her “clairvoyant” ability to help Duan Ling, or if he wanted something, she could do her best to help him get it, as long as it wasn’t money or her life.
Suddenly, someone clapped, repeatedly cheering, breaking the silence of the backyard.
Lin Ting curiously lifted her head, wanting to see which idiot was clapping and cheering.
It turned out to be Prince Liang, the idiot.
She tried to minimize her presence to avoid trouble.
Wait.
The person who knew which dancer had kissed Duan Ling wasn’t just her, but also Jin Anzai.
Lin Ting unconsciously glanced towards the stage, seeing Jin Anzai, disguised as a woman, with a ghostly look in his eyes.
She thought about “silencing him.”
Lin Ting silently comforted herself, thinking that as long as she wasn’t embarrassed, others would be.
Prince Liang clapped as he walked down from his high seat, coming to their side, glancing at Lin Ting, then looking with interest at Duan Ling.
Duan Ling’s eyebrows and eyes were like a painting, his skin pale, the corner of his lips smeared with the rouge Lin Ting had applied.
The bright rouge, blended with the wine, made his thin lips appear crimson, evoking imaginative thoughts.
His attire was slightly disheveled, the Feiyu uniform wrinkled from being pressed, and damp from the wine that had spilled from Lin Ting’s lips, the fabric at the collar and chest darkened from the moisture.
Prince Liang, thinking he had irritated Duan Ling, became more smug and arrogant.
He teased,
“How does Commander Duan feel? I think this dancer suits you quite well. Why don’t you take her home with you?”
Duan Ling raised his hand to touch his lips, still numb from Lin Ting’s kiss, then looked down at the rouge on his fingertips, his tone emotionless,
“Your Highness, please don’t joke with your humble servant.”
Hearing this, Lin Ting felt utterly speechless and very much wanted to punch Prince Liang in the face.
Prince Liang circled Duan Ling,
“Who said Commander Duan isn’t close to women? Isn’t this close enough? You even kissed. It seems it’s not that Commander Duan isn’t close to women, just that the right opportunity hasn’t come yet.”
Duan Ling glanced at Lin Ting intentionally or unintentionally, ignoring the lingering taste of rouge and wine in his mouth, and did not respond to Prince Liang’s words, only saying gently,
“Then your humble servant will take the prisoner and leave.”
“Commander Duan, why the hurry? Don’t you want to drink a few more cups of wine fed by the beauty?”
Prince Liang was still reluctant to let him go.
Duan Ling remained unmoved,
“Your humble servant has official duties to attend to, please forgive me, Your Highness.”
Prince Liang took the wine-drained it in one go, then wildly kissed the beauty in his arms several times, eliciting coquettish giggles, then pointed at Lin Ting.
He joked,
“Commander Duan, are you sure you don’t want this beauty? I think she has fallen for you at first sight, couldn’t wait to kiss you.”
After teasing, he sought affirmation, asking the others,
“Don’t you think so?”
The aristocratic young men exchanged glances.
It wasn’t that the beauty couldn’t wait to kiss him; it was clearly Prince Liang who had threatened her, saying that if she failed to feed him wine, she would have to atone with her death.
Who would dare to disobey?
They usually enjoyed following Prince Liang in playing with women, but none had the audacity to casually abuse and kill women, disregarding human life.
Prince Liang had played the same trick before, having dancers or maids kiss upright officials.
If they failed, he would kill them in front of the officials, watching the officials become furious but helpless.
Afterwards, the officials would impeach him, but Prince Liang would only be placed under house arrest for a few months.
Seeing this, the aristocratic young men fawned over Prince Liang, yet were also fearful, careful in their words and actions, afraid that a misstep would lead to their deaths.
At this moment, they should have chimed in with Prince Liang, saying mocking words to please him.
But who was Duan Ling?
The Commander of the Imperial Guards, a favorite of the current emperor, with immense power.
The methods of the Imperial Guards were notoriously cruel, known to all, and not to be trifled with.
They were not Prince Liang, with an emperor as a father.
If they offended the Imperial Guards, they might be thrown into prison on some pretext, not far from death.
Duan Ling didn’t seem like a ruthless person, more like a refined scholar, one wouldn’t know he was with the Imperial Guards if not told.
But no matter how much Duan Ling didn’t seem like one, he was still with the Imperial Guards.
Thinking of this, the aristocratic young men were as silent as cicadas in winter, not daring to respond to Prince Liang, stealing glances at Duan Ling.
Duan Ling stood under the lantern, yet was backlit, submerged in shadow, with the divine aura of a gentle nobleman, easily making one overlook the intricate Feiyu uniform and embroidered Chun sword he wore.
Prince Liang’s expression instantly turned ugly, barely restraining his anger.
The beauty in Prince Liang’s arms sensed the unusual atmosphere, stiffening.
He used this as an excuse to slap her hard, drawing blood,
“What? Don’t want to serve me?”
The beauty, ignoring the slap mark on her face, quickly hugged Prince Liang’s leg, crying and begging for mercy,
“No, it’s my honor to serve you, how could I not want to.”
Prince Liang kicked her, and the beauty rolled down the steps, too hurt to get up.
Standing next to Jin Anzai was a dancer who had once said in a private room that she wanted to climb up to Prince Liang.
Seeing his actions, she couldn’t help but break into a cold sweat, trembling like a sieve, losing all sense of complacency.
Lin Ting resisted the urge to go help the beauty, knowing it would be futile and would only expose her identity, so she glared at Prince Liang fiercely, then quickly looked away.
Duan Ling didn’t miss Lin Ting’s furious glare at Prince Liang, her eyes even brighter with anger.
Realizing he had been looking for too long, Duan Ling calmly turned his face away, looking at his wrist, covered by his sleeve and armguard, where a new wound was almost healed, itching faintly.
After venting his anger on the beauty, Prince Liang calmed down slightly, facing Duan Ling with an extremely fake smile,
“Commander Duan, I must apologize for the disturbance.”
Duan Ling smiled slightly, saying nothing.
Lin Ting focused on her nose and heart, wanting to slip back to the stage, not wanting to stay here.
As soon as she moved her foot, Prince Liang turned to look at her, casually asking,
“You, what’s your name?”
Helpless, Lin Ting bent slightly, pretending to be submissive,
“Your Highness, this servant is called Xi Yin.”
She used a voice technique, her voice soft, bearing no resemblance to the seventh young lady of the Lin family.
Duan Ling seemed to remember something, a ripple in his eyes as he looked at her.
Prince Liang nodded.
The eunuch stepped forward respectfully to pour wine.
He didn’t drink directly but examined the wine in the cup, his lower three eyes exuding an arrogant, self-important air.
But Prince Liang’s face, clearly worn out from indulgence, made this arrogance a joke.
He slumped in his chair like a pile of mud,
“Not bad, the name Xi Yin is quite festive, with a touch of wealth, sounds like a lucky name. Xi Yin, would you like to follow Commander Duan?”
Is this ever going to end?
Lin Ting, “This servant is of low status, dare not aspire.”
Duan Ling blinked.
Prince Liang seemed to have completely forgotten the earlier unpleasantness, laughing heartily, biting into a grape fed by another beauty,
“Nonsense, Commander Duan is not the type to care about such things.”
Lin Ting remained silent, anyway she would leave after today’s task was done, he could say whatever he wanted, it would just be like wind in her ears, as if he were dead.
Prince Liang laughed again,
“What do you think of Commander Duan’s looks?”
“Heavenly.”
He seemed to be scheming something, his eyes rolling,
“Heavenly… I think so too. Do you like Commander Duan? I could bestow you upon him.”
She instinctively glanced at Duan Ling, seeing the rouge still on his lips, feeling guilty,
“This servant is of low status, dare not aspire to or defile Commander Duan, Your Highness please stop teasing this servant.”
Duan Ling listened quietly.
At that moment, someone whispered into Prince Liang’s ear, his expression suddenly turning serious, dropping his disrespect towards the Imperial Guards, his attitude actually improving,
“Commander Duan, could we speak in private?”