Ye Yunting averted his gaze, turned his head to avoid Lin Fuying's hand, and took the handkerchief from her to wipe his lips himself.
"Yingying, you've worked hard. Just rest; that will be enough," he said.
Lin Fuying's eyes dimmed slightly. Unwilling to give up, she spoke softly, "Yingying is not tired."
After saying this, she moved to Ye Yunting's side, her soft, boneless fingers gently resting on the man's shoulder.
"Prince has been busy with official duties all day; that's truly tiring. Yingying can't help much but can at least ease the Prince's fatigue with a shoulder massage."
Ye Yunting did not refuse again.
The room was brightly lit, casting intertwining shadows of the man and the woman on the ground, adding hints of tenderness and ambiguity.
Feeling the broad shoulders beneath her palms, Lin Fuying grew increasingly distracted, and her fingers slowly moved downward.
"Prince, a fine evening moment is worth a thousand pieces of gold. Tonight, Yingying wishes to…"