After Transmigrating as a Sickly Beauty, I Became the Villain’s Beloved - Chapter 2

The newcomer wore a dark purple brocade robe. As he stepped out from behind the folding screen, the sunlight filtering through the window lattice cast a layer of shadow across his face, his slightly curled bangs leaves him half-shrouded in light and darkness.

Qin Ziyu squeezed his knuckles, his gaze traveling up and down the figure. Goosebumps rose across his skin as the blood rushed to his head; he licked his lips with great difficulty.

He had guessed correctly. The man before him was Xiao Ci, one of the original host’s greatest enemies. He was also the primary antagonist of the novel.

If the original host was loathsome, Xiao Ci was even worse. He was a petty, malicious man who had risen from a lowly eunuch cleaning latrines to the Director of the Western Depot. Now holding immense power, he didn’t even hold the Emperor in high regard.

The person originally responsible for Xiao Ci being sent to the palace to be castrated was none other than the original host. After Xiao Ci entered the palace, the original host had beaten and humiliated him numerous times. Naturally, the person Xiao Ci loathed most was the host himself.

Judging by Xiao Ci’s arrogant demeanor, he had likely already been appointed Director. Within two chapters, he was destined to kill Qin Ziyu personally and frame someone else for the crime, killing two birds with one stone.

What should I do?

Qin Ziyu didn’t know why he had transmigrated here into this body, or where the original soul had gone. Dying to return to his own world would be fine, but if he couldn’t go back…

Based on the tropes of novels and dramas he had seen, returning wasn’t an option right now. He couldn’t afford to die.

Qin Ziyu propped himself up slightly, observing Xiao Ci through the gauze bed curtains. He knew Xiao Ci was a eunuch from a humble background, but he hadn’t expected him to be so… beautiful.

Yes, beautiful. His elegance carried a hint of wicked charm, looking like a figure stepped out of a painting. Looking at Xiao Ci, an idea formed in Qin Ziyu’s mind.

While Qin Ziyu observed him, Xiao Ci was also sizing him up. For some reason, he felt the Crown Prince was different today. Although he still looked sickly, his eyes were extraordinarily bright. Even through the gauze, one could see a vigorous, resilient vitality within them; even the small mole at the corner of his eye seemed to have come to life.

Xiao Ci gave a soft laugh, causing Qin Ziyu to instantly grow alert.

“Your Highness seems to be in good spirits. It appears the imperial physicians have put in much effort lately; Your Highness should reward them well.”

Xiao Ci walked forward. The distance from the screen to the bed was only about ten steps, but with every stride, Qin Ziyu’s heart skipped a beat.

He steadied himself. “Naturally.”

Having just been woken up, Qin Ziyu’s throat was dry. The fingers propped against the bedside trembled slightly. It was only thanks to the soup he’d had the night before that he could even sit up.

Two slender fingers emerged from the center of the curtains, his nails as lustrous as jade. Qin Ziyu’s eyes fell upon those well-defined knuckles, and the curtains were pulled open.

The moment their eyes met, Xiao Ci’s pupils shrank. He stared intently at Qin Ziyu, momentarily forgetting where he was. It took a long while before he found his voice.

“Your Highness is truly… doing quite well.”

His face was still pale, yet he seemed like a completely different person—possessed of a stubborn, unyielding determination.

“When someone is keeping me in their thoughts, I naturally must do well,” Qin Ziyu said without evasion, staring directly into Xiao Ci’s eyes. “Don’t you agree, Lord Xiao?”

The corner of Xiao Ci’s mouth curled upward. He wore a smile, but his voice was cold as frost. “Is Your Highness so happy simply because you survived?”

Qin Ziyu pretended not to hear the underlying threat. “Of course.”

“To be able to look at you a few more times, My Lord, is naturally a happy thing.”

Xiao Ci’s smile stiffened. “Your Highness addresses this official as ‘Lord,’ but I dare not accept such a title. I believe you are more accustomed to calling me ‘Little Dog’.”

Qin Ziyu: “…”

Does this man have a masochistic streak?

When Xiao Ci first entered the palace, he was young and offended many because he didn’t know the rules. Under the original host’s instigation, everyone was allowed to beat and scold him. A senior eunuch had given him that derogatory nickname, and he had been called that for seven years.

Later, as Xiao Ci climbed higher, no one dared to slight him. He was granted a formal name by the Emperor, and people gradually forgot that humble “Little Dog.” They only remembered the powerful Chief Eunuch who had now become the Director of the Western Depot. Aside from himself, no one dared mention that name.

“Hmm? Why are you silent?” Xiao Ci leaned down halfway and pinched Qin Ziyu’s chin.

Qin Ziyu winced in pain. His delicate brows furrowed, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. His clothes hung loosely on his frame; from Xiao Ci’s vantage point, he could see the slender collarbones and a chest so thin the bones protruded, pale to the point of bloodlessness.

It wouldn’t take much strength to snap this man’s neck.

Qin Ziyu remained half-kneeling on the messy silk quilt, forced to meet Xiao Ci’s gaze. Those eyes roamed over his face continuously, as if searching for something.

The pain in his chin made it impossible for Qin Ziyu to think. His body tilted forward uncontrollably; Xiao Ci instinctively moved his hand and caught him by the waist.

He felt light, as if Xiao Ci were holding a bundle of cotton.

The sudden movement blew the gauze curtains aside. It felt as long as a century, but while Qin Ziyu was still on the bed, he was now held in Xiao Ci’s arms.

In the next instant, Qin Ziyu was suddenly pushed away. He slumped by the bedside, coughing violently. His throat made a wheezing sound, like a broken bellows.

Xiao Ci flicked his hand and stared at the heaving body. The coughing grew quieter until the movement stopped entirely.

Dead?

Xiao Ci flipped him over and placed a finger under Qin Ziyu’s nose. It was warm.

It seemed he really was severely ill, having actually coughed himself into a faint. There were small flecks of blood at the corners of his mouth, looking like a smear of rouge.

He stared silently at Qin Ziyu for a moment, then swept his sleeves and left.

When Qin Ziyu regained consciousness, it was already noon. His nanny was keeping watch by the bed, weeping. Seeing him wake, she called for the physician while cursing Xiao Ci for being a wretch.

“Nanny, if you truly care for me, do not mention him again,” Qin Ziyu coughed lowly. His chest felt heavy and congested.

If this continued, he would pass away on his own without Xiao Ci ever having to lift a finger.

“Your Highness…” The nanny’s eyes were red. “He dared to humiliate you so! This servant will surely report this to the Emperor and beg His Majesty to punish him severely!”

Qin Ziyu lifted his eyelids. “I am hungry. Bring some light porridge and side dishes that are easy to digest.”

The nanny wiped her tears. “Yes, this servant shall go order it immediately.”

“Qing’an, look after His Highness.”

The little eunuch by the screen responded, “Yes.”

Qing’an trotted to the bedside. Qin Ziyu rubbed his brow; it seemed the people around the original host weren’t very bright.

The nanny kept insisting he had been humiliated, but who had seen it? Who would dare testify? Furthermore, he had no injuries; he had simply fainted on his own. He was already a discarded pawn. The Emperor wouldn’t care if he lived or died. Moreover…

The Great Qin Dynasty had lasted a thousand years. It was glorious at its founding but had gradually declined. The man currently on the throne was weak and incompetent—hardly a wise monarch, and certainly powerless to change the political landscape.

The power of Qin was held in the hands of the eunuchs, with Xiao Ci at the forefront. Asking the Emperor to punish Xiao Ci? That was no different from asking for the immediate downfall of the kingdom.

Xiao Ci’s brazen appearance at the Eastern Palace meant he certainly had a backup plan. Qin Ziyu needed to recover quickly to implement his next move; otherwise, he wouldn’t escape the original host’s tragic end.

Qin Ziyu drank half a bowl of porridge and regained a bit of strength. He asked Qing’an to help him out of bed.

The nanny entered from outside. “Didn’t the physician say you should rest? You’ve only just improved; why is Your Highness in such a hurry?”

“Qing’an! You are indulging His Highness’s whims! If His Highness is careless, don’t you know to advise him?!”

Qing’an looked panicked. Because he was supporting Qin Ziyu, he couldn’t move or kneel.

Qin Ziyu patted his hand and looked up at Nanny Jiang. “Nanny, you know me best. How much longer can a body like mine last? I simply want to go out and see the world, in case one day I…”

“Your Highness!” The nanny interrupted him, her face full of heartache. “If you wish to go out, there will be plenty of time once you recover. You will surely live to be a hundred.”

“No, I am muddled. Your Highness shall live for a thousand years.”

A faint smile appeared on Qin Ziyu’s pale face. “A hundred is rare enough. Nanny, you have worked hard lately. You don’t need to serve me personally for the next few days.”

“Does Your Highness dislike this servant?” Nanny Jiang was deeply hurt. “I know some words shouldn’t be said to foul your ears or disturb your peace, but I worry for you. That Xiao Ci is no good”

“Nanny Jiang!”

His voice wasn’t loud, but it commanded immense authority. Nanny Jiang stopped instantly. The sunlight separated the two of them. Qin Ziyu stood slightly hunched, his face obscured, but the cold light in his eyes made one afraid to look directly at him.

However, in the next moment, those eyes returned to their usual listless, weary state, as if the previous flash had been an illusion.

Nanny Jiang bowed. “This servant takes her leave.”

Qin Ziyu stood straight again, leaning on Qing’an’s hand. That single movement exhausted all his strength. He stood for a long while before attempting his first step. His center of gravity shifted; fortunately, Qing’an was quick and dropped to the floor to act as a cushion.

Thin as he was, Qin Ziyu was still a grown man. Qing’an was only a thirteen or fourteen-year-old eunuch. He struggled under Qin Ziyu for a while but couldn’t get up.

Qing’an was both angry and anxious angry at his own uselessness and anxious about Qin Ziyu’s health.

“It is all this servant’s fault for being useless and letting Your Highness fall.”

There were originally eunuchs and maids guarding the outside, but Nanny Jiang, fearing someone would see Qin Ziyu in such a pathetic state, had told them to stay far away. Qing’an called out a few times, but no one answered.

“Stop shouting,” Qin Ziyu said, tidying the stray hairs on his cheek. “It’s noisy.”

Qing’an shut his mouth. After a moment, he asked, “Your Highness, wait until this servant regains some strength to help you up.”

“No need. Someone will come in when it’s time for medicine. Since we’ve already lied down, we might as well sleep for a bit. Otherwise, wouldn’t we be wasting this fine time?” As he spoke, Qin Ziyu closed his eyes.

Qing’an: “?”

Feeling the shallow breaths above him, Qing’an was bewildered. Did the Prince really just fall asleep?

“Don’t move.” Qin Ziyu’s stomach felt a bit uncomfortable from the position. It had been a long time since he had slept during the day. Ever since he started working in his previous life, he almost never had holidays, working day and night. Now, he finally had some leisure time.

Qing’an stiffened his body, not daring to move again. He had felt an itch at his waist and couldn’t help moving slightly, only to be discovered immediately.

But the more he tried not to move, the more uncomfortable he felt. Qing’an grew itchier and itchier. Just as he was dying to scratch himself, the palace doors were pushed open with a creak.

Footsteps drew closer. Qing’an joyfully thanked the heavens and the earth, but the moment he saw the person’s face, his “thanks” shattered into pieces.

Help! He’d rather be itchy to death!