The little fox gently planted a kiss.
Yin Weiyin was visibly startled by the scene.
After a moment, the Princess of Xiang loosened Chen Yi’s collar, carefully turning her face to the side and signaling subtly to Yin Weiyin.
Chen Yi was still savoring the taste of the Princess of Xiang’s kiss. He lifted his gaze, only to see Yin Weiyin rise to her feet and slowly make her way toward him.
In his line of sight, she was trembling violently, every step hesitant, her demeanor one of sheer unease and trepidation. She struggled to come to stand before him, not even daring to meet his eyes.
Chen Yi sensed what was happening and waited silently for a while.
Yin Weiyin finally leaned in, her lips trembling as they brushed closer.
Her eyes were shut tightly, and though this was not her first time initiating a kiss, it seemed the more one prepared, the more anxious one became. She shook almost uncontrollably, swaying as if she might fall, but Chen Yi caught her, pulling her soft, jade-like body into his embrace.
When their lips finally parted after some time, Yin Weiyin gasped for air, subconsciously swallowing, her delicate head bowing slightly forward, unable to speak a word.
Chen Yi held her close for a moment longer, then gestured toward that bowl of white fungus dessert and said:
"We’ll share a bowl."
Whatever he said was law. Yin Weiyin offered no resistance and sat herself in the chair Chen Yi pulled out for her.
After a pause, Chen Yi awkwardly pulled out another chair for himself.
The white fungus dessert shone with a translucent clarity. Layers of red dates and wolfberries were steeped within, the pale yellow gel-like appearance of the silver ear fungus enticing and vibrant—an ideal tonic for nourishing the blood. Chen Yi scooped a spoonful of the dessert, glanced at Yin Weiyin, and brought the spoon to her lips.
Yin Weiyin hesitated briefly, yet still opened her mouth.
As the dessert entered her mouth, her wide, almond-shaped eyes widened further in surprise. The dessert was chilled. A sidelong glance revealed the Princess of Xiang’s bowl, which was still steaming with warmth.
Noting this small detail, the Princess of Jing’s eyes grew dim.
Chen Yi moved the spoon away from her lips and took a spoonful for himself.
After tasting it, Chen Yi noticed the flicker of emotion in Yin Weiyin’s gaze and chuckled dryly. He asked, "You think I’m playing favorites?"
The female crown faltered for a brief moment. She neither shook nor nodded her head—as if tacitly acknowledging it.
Chen Yi remarked matter-of-factly, "I am playing favorites."
Yin Weiyin remained silent.
It was as though no matter how he treated her, she could do nothing but accept it. After all, why would she expect to win his favor, when Yin Tingxue was already the one he adored most?
Using the corner of her eye, Yin Tingxue caught the scene unfolding and murmured softly—whether intentionally or not—"Chilling something like that takes quite some effort."
Once again, the Princess of Jing was momentarily stunned. She parted her pale lips as if to speak, but no words came. Chen Yi, on the other hand, leisurely swirled the white fungus dessert with his spoon.
He scooped another spoonful and brought it to Yin Weiyin’s lips.
Yin Weiyin gazed at the translucent dessert in the bowl before her. Fixing her eyes on Chen Yi, who insisted on sharing one bowl with her, her thoughts spiraled uncontrollably, and a faint pang stung her eyes. She parted her lips once more.
The chilled dessert fell onto her tongue. The icy texture suppressed any overt sweetness, yet paradoxically drew out a subtle layer of honeyed flavor. Slowly, tentatively, Yin Weiyin savored the dessert in small bites, her gaze cast downward, and a faint soreness welled in her eyes.
The bowl of white fungus dessert was nearing its end.
Chen Yi scooped the final spoonful, guiding it again toward Yin Weiyin’s lips. Just as she was about to take it, the spoon abruptly retreated—leaving her reaching for air.
She froze, staring as Chen Yi brought the last spoonful to his own lips and swallowed it.
Lowering her eyes, Yin Weiyin’s tongue unconsciously swept across her lips, savoring the lingering trace of sweetness.
But Chen Yi leaned in suddenly and kissed her.
The female crown flinched ever so slightly, and the final taste of the dessert flowed onto her tongue. Her tongue tingled faintly, perhaps because the last spoonful always carried an extra layer of sweetness.
When their lips finally parted, Chen Yi picked up the now-empty porcelain bowl, preparing to rise from his seat.
Behind him, however, came a faint tug.
Chen Yi turned back and saw her bowing her head, her right hand clutching the hem of his garment—a feeble grip that would loosen and fall away with the slightest pull.
Her voice came out in a hoarse whisper: