The Beautiful Top Being Pursued Relentlessly [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 37

“Put your dirty paws down.”

“Roar-roar.” Not dirty. Fragrant paws.

The moonlight was bright and pure, silently flooding through the carved window and spreading a layer of silver light across the floor and the bed. The incense burner puffed out white mist, releasing a calming fragrance.

On the spacious bed covered with soft quilts, the golden tiger cub let out an excited roll. Those rejected “dirty paws” once again clambered onto Xie Cheng’s snowy-white night-robes.

Leaning against a raised soft pillow, Xie Cheng extended his index finger to press against the wet nose of the cub, which was trying to nuzzle his cheek. “Stop it. Behave yourself.”

Jiang Yi had no intention of stopping.

After many hours, he had finally climbed back onto Xie Cheng’s big bed; of course he had to make a fuss. He immediately wrapped both front paws around that finger, his furry head quickly rubbing into Xie Cheng’s palm.

Perhaps it was the instinct of being an animal, but he was particularly fond of licking the person he liked. Animals can express their intimacy, trust, and dependence anytime and anywhere in the most direct and sincere way. And Xie Cheng had always enjoyed this dependence, being treated as the only existence.

Unsurprisingly, Xie Cheng indulged him. Silent acquiescence is often more exhilarating than a direct “yes.”

The entire tiger almost crawled into Xie Cheng’s night-robes, acting up inside—licking, touching, and nuzzling all while letting out persistent “awoo awoo” whimpers, wanting Xie Cheng to respond.

Xie Cheng did not respond. He held a book of miscellany in one hand while the other rested idly on the cub’s back, focused on the strange tales within the pages. Occasionally, a page turned with a faint rustle, blending with the cub’s “awoo” sounds.

“Roar-roar.” Is the tiger not handsome enough or not soft enough to touch? Why look at that raggedy book? What’s so good about it?

“Truly interesting,” Xie Cheng remarked, his fingers curling into the fur on the cub’s back, twisting it into little circles.

“Roar?”

“This book records that in ancient times, there was a Witch Clan born with divine strength and the ability to communicate with beasts. It is said their ancestors were prehistoric savages who fought fierce creatures in the wilderness, drinking beast blood when thirsty and eating raw flesh when hungry. Over time, their bloodline was stained with ferocity, allowing them to speak with beasts—thus becoming the first Witches.”

Xie Cheng recounted the legend from the book to the cub exactly as it was written. Finally, he critiqued: “Their nature is quite peculiar. Meeting one would be dangerous; they are difficult to understand. What do you think?”

“Awoo?” Jiang Yi blinked his large, blank eyes.

I don’t understand, I don’t understand anything.

Besides, who wrote this book? It’s absolute nonsense! He, his clansmen, and his ancestors had never eaten raw meat or drunk raw blood. It was a complete fabrication!

“Why so nervous?”

Xie Cheng hoisted the now-stiff cub up and pinched the base of its tail. Jiang Yi didn’t dare move, his fur standing on end. He was guilty deeply guilty.

Xie Cheng chuckled softly, continuing from his earlier thought, “So nervous. are you sleepy?”

“Roar-roar-roar.” That’s right, I’m sleepy.

The Big Tiger is going to bed with the Prince.

Jiang Yi broke free from Xie Cheng’s hands and flopped onto a flat pillow, his four paws scratching the air twice. His bright eyes looked at Xie Cheng. “Awoo.”

The spot is taken. Come quickly.

Xie Cheng’s gaze finally moved away from the book and onto the cub who had hijacked the pillow, shamelessly exposing its belly. He set the book down, lifted the quilt, and lay inside.

“Get in here,” Xie Cheng said, tugging his tail. “I told you to warm the bed, not the pillow.”

“Awoo”

With a soft cry, Jiang Yi curled himself into a ball and skillfully rolled into the covers, pressing his soft, warm fur against Xie Cheng’s chest. He moved down a bit, spreading his four paws, trying to wrap his short limbs around Xie Cheng’s waist. He buried his face deep against Xie Cheng’s body and stopped moving.

Tiger, sniffing the Prince.

He could feel the chest rising and falling with every breath right against him. His nose twitched, catching the faint, cool scent belonging to Xie Cheng on the robes.

Tiger, sniffing the Prince again. The tiger also wants to kiss the Prince.

“Stop moving.”

Xie Cheng patted the restless tiger head. Once the cub stopped fussing, he slowly closed his eyes. It was strange, but sleeping while holding this cub was warm and cozy; no one would refuse it.

It seemed the bloodline of the Witch Clan was indeed extraordinary. However, for a “person” like a spirit to appear in a standard ancient setting… the more he thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed.

Jiang Yi was truly very suspicious.

“Your Highness, someone at the gates claims to have an appointment with you. Should I show him to the front hall?”

Early morning, just as the sun rose. Xie Cheng was rising to dress when Manager Liu’s voice came from outside the door. Looking at the bed, the clingy cub was nowhere to be seen, though Xie Cheng hadn’t noticed when it left.

He lifted the quilt where there was a lump; instead of a curled-up tiger, there was only a hot water bottle wrapped in a bright red cloth.

When did he swap them?

Xie Cheng’s eyes flickered. He intentionally asked the manager outside, “Where has Opal gone?”

Manager Liu was utterly confused. “Your Highness… who is ‘Opal’?”

Xie Cheng pursed his lips. “My newly raised pet.”

Manager Liu had a sudden realization. So it was that frightening little tiger. But why would the Prince give it such a name? It sounded like something from Persia quite strange indeed.

“Where is he?” Xie Cheng repeated. He didn’t explain the origin of the name.

In the world where he was born, a “God” would give a name to their followers to bless them. This name was one Xie Cheng chose for Jiang Yi a mysterious purple gemstone, symbolizing infinite hope.

Manager Liu pondered his answer. “The Little Master woke up early and is in the back garden pouncing on butterflies.”

Xie Cheng arched an eyebrow. “Still in the manor?”

“Naturally. There are servants nearby looking after him; Your Highness needn’t worry,” Manager Liu said.

Xie Cheng gave a light “oh.” “Then you must look after him well. Very, very carefully.”

Manager Liu didn’t understand the underlying meaning. “Yes.”

“You may go. I shall read for a while.”

“Then, the gentleman with the appointment”

Xie Cheng made things difficult on purpose. “Does he have a formal calling card?”

That dummy spent the whole night in my bed; he definitely wouldn’t have remembered such formalities.

“He does, he does,” Manager Liu replied quickly, pushing the door open a crack. “Would Your Highness like to see it?”

Xie Cheng: “…”

The air solidified for a moment. Xie Cheng’s finger, resting on the book, paused and gripped the corner of a page.

“Your Highness?”

Xie Cheng remained unfazed, tapping his finger once against the desk. “Since his etiquette is proper, invite him in. Let it not be said that the Prince Zhao Manor lacks hospitality.”

“Yes.”

Manager Liu left with light steps, wondering if the gentleman waiting outside was the one moving into the side room. If so, the Prince didn’t seem to be in a hurry. If not… given the Prince’s temperament, he wouldn’t have invited him in or mentioned “hospitality.” After all, when the Minister’s son came by, the Prince was quite unwelcoming.

The Prince’s thoughts are truly hard to guess.

“Gentleman, His Highness is busy with a few trifles. I must ask you to wait here for a moment.”

Manager Liu led Jiang Yi into the front hall. He didn’t dare be negligent, personally pouring a cup of hot tea and ordering the kitchen to bring two plates of pastries, which were set on the table to Jiang Yi’s right.

Jiang Yi looked around left and right, appearing exceptionally interested in the manor. Noticing the pastries were different from those outside, he leaned in until his nose almost touched them.

“Has the Prince been very busy lately?” Jiang Yi looked up, his tone unintentionally revealing a hint of familiarity.

Manager Liu felt more and more that this person was unusual in the Prince’s heart. He answered with caution, “His Highness has always been thus staying in his room, not fond of going out.”

“How can that be?” Jiang Yi muttered softly. If one stayed in a stuffy place all day without sunlight or the scent of flowers, it would feel very uncomfortable.

“Exactly. This servant has advised His Highness many times, but he always uses various trifles to shut me up.” Manager Liu let out a sigh, looking the picture of a worried steward.

Jiang Yi couldn’t help but think of Xie Cheng’s body that gasped for air after a few steps, his pale face while lying in bed, and the cold sweat that wouldn’t stop while he was in the spring…

“Is the Prince in his room now?” Jiang Yi stood up anxiously, making a move to check the back courtyard.

“Don’t be in such a hurry, Gentleman. This matter requires a long-term plan.”

Jiang Yi wasn’t listening to “long-term” anything. He pushed Manager Liu’s hand aside and stepped out of the hall with a frown. However, after a few steps, he turned back, stuffed an exquisite pastry into his mouth, and said through the crumbs, “Gotta fill my stomach first.”

He swallowed one, then another. More than half the pastries on the plate were gone. Jiang Yi turned around and strode off again, thinking about how stifled Xie Cheng must be in his room.

Little did he know, as soon as he rounded the moon gate of the corridor, he walked straight into an embrace smelling of a faint medicinal fragrance.

Actually, they didn’t embrace. Xie Cheng was simply standing there when he was hit.

Jiang Yi clutched his nose, which was stinging from the impact, and looked up to meet a pair of deep, silver-grey eyes. His brain began to buzz. He didn’t know when Xie Cheng had come out, how he’d gotten here, or how much of their conversation he’d overheard.

Xie Cheng stood by the moon gate, wearing a light green outer robe that wasn’t particularly thick. Though his complexion was somewhat pale, he didn’t look especially sickly.

“P-Prince.”

Xie Cheng looked down at Jiang Yi, whose mouth was still stuffed with pastries, and spoke unhurriedly: “What? Is the Hostel short on meals for you?”

“N-no, not at all.”

“The truth,” Xie Cheng commanded.

Jiang Yi held up a pinky finger. “Actually, just a little bit. I only occasionally don’t get enough to eat.”

After all, he was just a hostage from another kingdom. The officials guarding the Hostel weren’t very attentive; delivering meals on time was the extent of their duty. As for portion size or taste, no one scrutinized the welfare of a hostage especially one from a tiny state. Pingyang was a wild, impoverished land. With so many eyes on him, he couldn’t run around to find work or open a business to supplement his income. Life was tight; it must have been a bit bitter since he arrived in Eastern Li.

Xie Cheng’s fingers, hidden in his sleeve, rubbed together. He asked, “What else do you want to eat?”

“Eh?” Jiang Yi tilted his head.

“I am asking you a question. Answer.”

“I want a braised chicken leg from the noodle stall,” Jiang Yi whispered.

Xie Cheng replied, “You may have it.”

Jiang Yi’s eyes lit up instantly. “Really?”

“Grind ink for me. One coin per hour, three hours a day. Then you may go buy your chicken leg.”

“One coin per hour!” Jiang Yi blinked repeatedly.

A wealthy family named Wang lived next to the Hostel; their study-boy’s monthly salary was only three hundred coins. The Prince was paying him so much!

“Will you do it?” Xie Cheng asked.

“Yes, yes, yes!”

The corners of Xie Cheng’s mouth curved. The way he shouted was exactly like the “awoo awoo” of the little tiger.

“But”

“Why the stuttering?”

Jiang Yi averted his gaze, his ears turning red as he asked, “The chicken leg bought with those three coins.  will the Prince feed it to me too?”

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