"Your... Lordship... listen to me..." Fan Yilin, pinned to the ground by Chang Yincheng’s arm, went limp as cooked noodles. It was miraculous he could force out a complete sentence while having his face pressed into the floor: "It’s a... misunderstanding... a grave misunderstanding..."

The young pages in the room were scattered helplessly around the edges; none could even summon the strength to rise, let alone call for help. His nephews had always claimed the Heir of Marquis Dingxi never engaged in brawls. Fan Yilin had initially thought the man was simply poor at fighting, only to realize now it wasn't that he couldn't fight, but that he never needed to fight a group—one man was sufficient.

"A misunderstanding?" Chang Yincheng increased the pressure, listening to the slow grinding sound of bone beginning to shift. "You little scoundrel, do you think I’m blind or an idiot? I know exactly what rotten schemes are brewing in that head of yours!"

Fan Yilin yelped in agony.

"I know I was wrong, I know I was wrong, Your Lordship! I merely admire beautiful women; I harbored no other intentions," he gasped. "If you don't believe me, ask my father-in-law; he knows too... I just appreciate beauty, like appreciating flowers or fine scenery. I wouldn't dare harbor darker thoughts... If I did, you wouldn't be the one dealing with me; I’d already be beaten to death by someone else."

"Admire? You dare look upon my woman!" Chang Yincheng hissed. "If you dare show your face before me again, I won't care if you’re the son-in-law of the Wang family or the spoiled brat of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices—I’ll gouge your dog eyes out!"

"Your Lordship, I did this for your own good!" Fan Yilin cried out.

The impudent boy was still arguing his innocence.

"Your Lordship, don't you think I know the consequences of saying this? But for your sake, and for the life you saved me from, even if I offend you and provoke your anger, I must speak." Fan Yilin continued, managing such fluent articulation despite having his cheek scraping the dirt.

Chang Yincheng delivered a sharp blow to the back of his head, then released his grip. The preceding barrage of punches and kicks had successfully vented the gloom in his heart. Having warned the wretched creature, he had no desire to waste more breath and stood up, ready to leave.

Fan Yilin, defying the threat of death, grabbed him again.

"Your Lordship." He looked at Chang Yincheng with genuine sincerity. "Think about it. Didn't I know the outcome of speaking such words? But I still had to say it—though true advice is hard to swallow."

Chang Yincheng was witnessing the thickest skin he had ever encountered; he found the situation almost infuriatingly amusing.

"What exactly do you want to say?" he asked, frowning.

Fan Yilin ignored his disheveled clothes and waved a dismissive hand.

The pages in the room struggled to their feet, supporting each other as they limped out.

"Your Lordship, I know this is a difficult, unspoken matter, but I must speak. Because I happen to possess a family heirloom medicinal formula, I couldn't help but urgently ask Your Lordship..." Fan Yilin clung to Chang Yincheng, completely unconcerned that the man had just beaten him; for him, suffering for the sake of a beauty was sweeter than honey.

"What difficult, unspoken matter do I have?" Chang Yincheng shook him off with a sneer.

Fan Yilin adopted an expression that said, See? I knew this was difficult, and I understand.

He reached out again and rested his hand on Chang Yincheng’s shoulder.

"Your Lordship, we are both men. Though this matter is shameful to discuss, it must be brought up," he said with deep earnestness. "When did you become impotent? Was it from the beginning, or did it happen later?"

Chang Yincheng took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to smash this wretch’s skull.

"Why do you assume I am impotent?" He turned to look at the man standing close before him. Though he had held back and exercised restraint, he couldn't prevent faint marks on the man's face—a slightly swollen lip, one eye larger than the other—making him look quite comical.

"Well, well... I could tell at a glance..." Fan Yilin chuckled.

"Are you suggesting I give you a demonstration?" Chang Yincheng frowned. "Are you intent on speaking nonsense?"

A demonstration...

Fan Yilin was quite familiar with that phrase; it was usually uttered during intimate moments with wives or concubines. Little beauty, do you look down on this young master? Let me show you... Oh, noble sir, no more...

Such dialogue was invigorating. The thought made Fan Yilin tremble with excitement, but when he looked up at the male face before him, the excitement was instantly doused by cold water.

He sprang back suddenly.

"You—you—you aren't a 'cut sleeve,' are you?" he asked in sudden panic. The word cut sleeve surfaced, and suddenly, this entire sequence of events made sense. He felt pity for the beauty, mixed with terror, and hurriedly waved his hands. "You—you don’t need to demonstrate, I won’t look! Don’t misunderstand me. Although you are handsome, I only like women..."

Chang Yincheng was past the point of having any expression left to convey his mood.

How could the astute Wang Tongye, who had been cunning his whole life, end up with such a simpleton as a son-in-law? How could the treacherous family of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices produce such a foolish son?

"You are a cut sleeve!" Chang Yincheng stated, looking at Fan Yilin, word by word. "So, you see everyone else as a cut sleeve too?"

"I am not a cut sleeve!" Fan Yilin insisted, still wary. "If you weren't a cut sleeve, why is your wife still a maiden?"

Chang Yincheng paused, stunned.

This pause confirmed Fan Yilin’s deduction in his eyes.

"...To keep such a beauty locked away, and she’s your wife! If you weren't a cut sleeve, why would you..." He didn't finish the sentence.

Chang Yincheng strode forward in one step and seized his throat.

Fan Yilin gasped in terror.

"Your Lordship, don't—don't get angry! This—this isn't some kind of... unspeakable thing... In the Capital... there are plenty of people like that... My... my cousin is one of them... I didn't... I didn't mean to look down on you..." he choked out.

It was all his own cleverness that brought this disaster upon him!

"How do you know she—she still is..." Chang Yincheng roared softly, unable to articulate the word. "Did she tell you?"

This question ignited a firestorm of fury in him. She dared share such a secret with an outsider!

"Are you insane!" Fan Yilin finally realized why the man was suddenly enraged. He glared and shouted, "How would the Young Mistress tell anyone such a thing? Besides, I wish she would tell me, but I've only met her twice in total, and both times in public! The one time we managed to eat a meal together, you jealous man chased me off..."

Chang Yincheng sobered immediately after shouting that last part. Of course, he knew that woman wouldn't share such a thing—precisely because of her character, she would never broadcast it. He had been utterly enraged by this wretched man's undisguised lustful gaze. The thought of how this man looked at his woman made his temper flare uncontrollably!

"Who told you?" He suppressed his violence, but the coldness remained as he pressed.

"Big Brother, no one told me! I have eyes! A woman and a young lady are completely different!" Fan Yilin said with a mixture of laughter and tears. For someone whose life’s pleasure was judging beauty, this skill was essential!

He can tell? Chang Yincheng hadn't considered that.

"Of course, I can tell," Fan Yilin sighed. "The body of a married woman and that of a young lady are entirely different. Who can't tell the difference?"

Who can't tell? That means everyone can tell? Except me...

Chang Yincheng froze instantly. That means everyone knows... That means everyone thinks I am...

Before Fan Yilin could say more, Chang Yincheng shoved him away violently and spun around, striding out. Heavy footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"Did I say something wrong?" Fan Yilin coughed, rubbing his neck, then suddenly realized his entire body ached and let out a loud wail.

"You certainly said the wrong thing!"

Back home, reclining in bed and being attended to by his pampered young wife, Fan Yilin received a hard poke on the forehead. It landed precisely on a sore spot, eliciting another cry of pain.

"How could you speak to him like that!" his wife scolded fiercely.

Outside, Wang Tongye, having heard the full story, rose in indignation. "Serves you right! He beat you too lightly!" he threw out before leaving. The younger relatives who had initially intended to seek justice for Fan Yilin lost all sense of righteous anger, instead dissolving into chuckles and dispersing.

"Truly brought utter disgrace upon yourself," his wife huffed, playfully poking Fan Yilin’s head again.

Fan Yilin shielded his head, dodging the touch.

"Madam, I was only trying to help His Lordship," he complained mournfully.

His wife spat disdainfully. "You were trying to help the beautiful Young Mistress, weren't you?" she retorted with a sniff. What a tragedy for such a beauty to go without the nourishment she deserves...

"I truly meant well for their marriage! Since our family has this rare medicine, I was just being helpful..." Fan Yilin continued to grumble, holding his head.

"You always pride yourself on being clever, but you got it completely wrong this time," his wife said, leaning back against the pillows. "Those two in that marriage, it’s not that they can’t be intimate, it’s that they won't."

"Won't?" Fan Yilin sat up, holding his head, his face a mask of shock. "Who won't?"

Chang Yincheng strode into the room with a darkened expression. Qi Yue had already finished lunch and was sitting on the couch, reviewing the surgical procedures she had prepared.

"You’re back. How was your meal?..." she greeted him cheerfully.

Chang Yincheng unfastened his heavy cloak and tossed it aside.

"Everyone out," he commanded.

His harsh tone startled the maid who followed him in, as well as the servants already attending the room. Seeing Chang Yincheng’s terrible face, the maids who entered quickly retreated. Qi Yue was also startled and waved her hand at A’ru and the others, who then left with the entourage.

"What’s wrong now?" she asked, stepping toward him.

Chang Yincheng looked at her with a grim face.

"Let’s talk properly. Don't go making trouble. Any huge matter can be resolved if we just talk it out," Qi Yue hurried to say. "Don't go losing your temper again..."

Her words were cut short as Chang Yincheng spoke.

"Sleep," he stated.

Qi Yue blinked, not having heard clearly.

"What?" she asked, but before her question was fully voiced, her pitch rose sharply, "What are you doing?"

Chang Yincheng swept the woman up into his arms and strode resolutely toward the sleeping quarters.