“What a striking face!” Qingya silently marveled, never before encountering a man with such peerless beauty.

Unbidden, her thoughts drifted to Dawu’s Second Princess.

“She’s lucked out—her future husband’s got a face like that. No boredom in the boudoir…”

Her cheeks flushed at the notion—why think such things? She yanked her gaze away.

Qingya couldn’t fathom why her mind churned with such nonsense.

She steadied herself, composure returning.

“Sir, your looks are truly exceptional—you could vie for the Capital’s Handsomest Man!”

Qingya smiled. Some busybody had ranked the city’s finest—four men and four women dubbed the Four Handsome Men and Four Beauties of the Capital.

Vulgar titles, perhaps, but the eight listed shone with unearthly grace and charm.

“Then Qingya Girl’s seen these famed Four Handsome Men of the Capital?” Xia Chen poured himself tea, entirely unreserved, as if he owned the place.

“I’ve had the fortune to glimpse one—yet beside you, sir, he falls a touch short!”

Qingya wafted a fragrant breeze, settling beside him. No flattery—truth. From Imperial City Division intel, Xia Chen was just seventeen. In a year or two, at his coming-of-age, his allure might peak even higher.

Xia Chen chuckled—good grief, was he this realm’s male Yang Guifei?

Born too fair to forsake, hidden deep in the house unknown! Now out, stunning the world?

The verse popped into his head. Seventeen years cloistered in the marquis’s estate—few beyond knew him.

Then he thought of his betrothed, the future Empress—a shot at being an otherworldly Yang Guifei!

“Hell, my alias tonight’s Yang too—it all lines up.”

Xia Chen zoned out—his offhand pseudonym suddenly felt laden with fate.

“What’s on your mind, sir?”

Qingya, seeing his gaze drift, grew curious. She’d just praised his looks—why space out?

“Nothing!”

Xia Chen snapped back, sitting upright. Qingya smirked across from him.

First timer, huh?

“Sir, the night’s long—tea’s dull. Here’s fine wine!”

Her bright eyes twinkled with amusement, pouring him a cup from a jug.

“How lovely are these Four Beauties in Qingya Girl’s tales?”

Xia Chen steered the chat—he knew little of capital gossip.

“You don’t know, sir?” Qingya blinked, surprised—didn’t men live for this?

Her honed poise quickly quelled her doubt.

She spoke softly.

“These Four Beauties, each of noble stock, outshine the Four Handsome Men—no debate.

“One’s the Celestial Master’s Mansion’s prized disciple; another’s Tianlong Temple’s current Buddha Maiden.

“The other two are secular—one’s Prime Minister Lin Hanpu’s legitimate daughter, the last’s His Majesty’s second daughter, Princess Yaoguang.

“Oh, lately I heard Princess Yaoguang’s betrothed—seems it’s a legitimate son of the Marquis of Zhendong.”

Qingya lingered on the princess, eyeing Xia Chen’s reaction. To her chagrin, his face stayed blank—like that marquis’s son wasn’t him.

“Even those from the Celestial Master’s Mansion and Tianlong Temple entered the ranking?”

Xia Chen perked up. The Mansion and Temple were Dawu’s Daoist and Buddhist sanctums—nay, the world’s orthodox seats.

Their leaders, the Celestial Master and the abbot, topped the age, yet both shunned worldly affairs, perched east and west of the capital in quiet standoff.

“They didn’t enter—busybodies ranked them anyway.”

Qingya’s soft voice flowed gently, tinged with a Jiangnan lilt.

“How does Qingya Girl’s beauty stack up?”

“Me, rival them?”

Qingya paused, then shook her head with a soft laugh.

“Don’t tease me, sir—be it status, looks, or charm, I’m worlds apart, unfit to compare.”

Her tender self-mockery flowed as she rose.

“Sir, it’s late—surely you don’t mean to chat all night at this table?”

Unwilling to dwell, she stepped to the bed, lifting a jade foot onto it.

Her air shifted—from refined lady, aloof goddess, to the world’s most bewitching siren.

Eyes sultry, radiating allure, the room turned charged. Xia Chen smiled, drifting toward the bed.

“Seems Qingya Girl can’t wait—such impatience!”

He teased, plopping beside the beauty.

“Or is it you, too stony-hearted? Perfect night, fine view—just talking, not making a move to indulge me?”

Qingya’s gaze feigned reproach, her contrast dialed to max.

Xia Chen grinned, lunging to scoop this beguiling lady into his arms and devour her.

But mid-move, strength fled—limp, he slumped onto the bed, snoring away.

“Pfft! Men—all rotten! Freshly betrothed and free, he’s already itching for these haunts!”

Xiao Lian stormed in, spitting like a lioness.

She’d lingered outside, knowing Xia Chen’s identity, having heard Qingya mention the Second Princess’s betrothal.

“I didn’t expect him here, but it’s a chance. We might use him to feed the Lamplighters intel. They’ve probed too hard lately—our capital dark web’s bleeding. If this keeps up, we’re in deep!”

Qingya sighed, eyeing the unconscious Xia Chen as she stepped off the bed. Her seductive mask vanished, replaced by poised elegance.

Pure and aloof once more!

Xiao Lian fumed beside her. “Damn Dafeng rats! Years back, without us, Dawu would’ve crushed them. Now, revived, they stab us—steal the defense map and pin it on us!”

Her anger flared. Lately, many of theirs—mostly outer fringes—were nabbed. Sooner or later, it’d reach them.

Worse, Dafeng’s Inspectorate spies leaked their Imperial City Division’s intelligence on the Dawu capital’s covert operations to the Lamplighters, causing devastating losses to the Division.