The Beautiful Top Being Pursued Relentlessly [Quick Transmigration] - Chapter 40

After finishing lunch, Xie Cheng paid a visit to the palace.

Unsurprisingly, the Emperor, who was usually busy with a myriad of state affairs; the Empress, who typically spent her days playing cards and tending to birds with her sisters; and the big-mouthed Crown Prince were all there. They were huddled in Fengyi Palace, specifically waiting for him.

Inside the hall, incense swirled in delicate curls. It was meant to be a calming scent to aid sleep, yet it couldn’t mask the tension that felt like a looming storm.

“This son pays his respects to Imperial Father and Imperial Mother.” Xie Cheng bowed slightly, then lifted his gaze toward the dais.

The Emperor sat tall in the main seat, his expression solemn as his fingers tapped rhythmically against the armrest. Beside him, the Empress held a string of prayer beads, sitting there in a daze.

“Zijue.” Upon hearing Xie Cheng’s voice, the Empress was the first to lose her composure. She dropped her beads and rushed out with a panicked voice. “We heard about what happened on the streets. To think that in broad daylight, some madman dared to attempt an assassination.

are you hurt anywhere?”

As she spoke, she reached out to pull him closer for a thorough inspection.

The Crown Prince added in a heavy voice, “He was more than just a madman. The arrows fired at Zijue were of military make.”

“Ahem, ahem.” The Emperor cleared his throat several times.

The Crown Prince immediately fell silent.

“What are you coughing for? Is there something Zihuai isn’t allowed to say?” Rare anger colored the Empress’s face. “A blade was practically at our son’s throat does Your Majesty still intend to hush things up to keep the peace?”

“How could I think such a thing? This matter must be punished severely!” The Emperor slammed his hand onto the table.

“Then we should”

“This son is unharmed.”

Xie Cheng interrupted the Empress, and the word “kill” that was about to slip from her lips dissipated.

“Zijue.” The Empress squeezed Xie Cheng’s hand tightly.

“Though these times are called peaceful, the court’s factions are complex and have bred many parasites. Looking at it now, this peace is merely superficial,” Xie Cheng said.

The original plot was no lighthearted fluff. Life-threatening danger was the best catalyst for a romance to heat up and the ultimate testament to the protagonists’ unwavering love.

Beneath the prosperous and peaceful facade of the Dongli Imperial City, a turbulent undercurrent slowly began to surface. 

The Emperor’s mercy had ultimately planted the seeds of hidden peril: predatory foreign enemies and the ambitiously scheming Prince Xian. The seemingly solid Dongli was actually fragile. Standing at the center of the vortex, where should he go?

This was the inner world of the protagonist shou, Ye Qing.

And all of this had used the death of the original Xie Cheng as a turning point. The vast Dongli Empire suddenly seemed full of holes.

After that, the protagonist gong, the Crown Prince, seemed to lose his protagonist halo instantly. The Emperor’s favor and the support of the officials vanished, leaving him to fight a life-and-death struggle against Prince Xian.

The Crown Prince would get hurt, and Ye Qing would look at that face which resembled his “White Moonlight” and weep out of a softened heart. Injury, tears, injury, tears.

A massive chunk of political intrigue in the plot served only to highlight the charm of the two protagonists and achieve a “perfect” romance.

Recalling the plot, Xie Cheng really wanted to give them both a round of thunderous applause.

“Zijue?” The Emperor, seated on high, let out a sigh, pulling Xie Cheng back to reality. “Prince Xian’s attempt to harm his own kin is an unpardonable sin. You may deal with him however you see fit.”

Xie Cheng: 

Look at this Emperor who chose his son over his empire and the plot says he’d give the Crown Prince the cold shoulder later? Is this a joke?

After all, the Emperor and Empress were childhood sweethearts who grew up together; their bond was deep. In the Emperor’s heart, only the children born of the Empress were his “real” children.

From this, it was clear: Ye Qing was a jinx.

Xie Cheng withdrew his thoughts and lowered his eyes. “The parasites haven’t been rooted out yet. Moving against him now might disturb the whole web. It’s better not to. We shall place Prince Xian under house arrest and use him as bait.”

The Emperor pondered for a long time. When he looked up and met the Empress’s reddened eyes, he shrunk his neck back and pointed at Xie Cheng. “We’ll listen to Zijue. We’ll do as Zijue says.”

“I’ll trouble Royal Brother to investigate the details.”

Xie Cheng pulled his heavy cloak tighter, hiding his cold face within the fur, and gave a small sniffle. “There are chores to attend to at the estate, so I won’t stay for dinner in the palace.”

“Zijue?” The Crown Prince pointed at himself.

“Yes, I’ll be troubling you, Brother.”

“Zijue?” The Crown Prince continued to point at himself.

“I am a man of leisure and do not meddle in court affairs. However, if Royal Brother encounters any difficulties, you may mention them to me.”

“Zijue?” The Crown Prince did not want to work.

“This son takes his leave.”

Xie Cheng turned around and walked out of the hall.

The sky had grown dark, and the lanterns for illumination had already been hung throughout the Zhao Prince Estate. In the dining hall, the bright lights remained lit, their yellow glow casting over a table full of delicacies.

Jiang Yi was slumped over a small table resting, his eyes closed. He was vaguely mumbling something about “the Prince.” The servants nearby saw him but didn’t dare step forward to disturb him.

“It’s this late; will the Prince even return to the estate for dinner?” a servant holding a broom whispered.

“Surely not. The Prince likely ate in the palace. Why would he remember that Young Master Jiang is waiting?”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

The rustling whispers didn’t reach the interior, and Jiang Yi continued to sleep soundly. The servants lost their inhibitions, and their voices grew louder as they tossed their brooms aside and sat on the ground.

“Young Master Jiang is far too clingy. It’s ‘Prince’ this and ‘Prince’ that all day long. I imagine the Prince will tire of him soon enough.”

“Who says otherwise?” another shriller voice joined in. “I heard news from the palace—the Empress is personally organizing a selection for the Prince. Our estate will soon have a new mistress.”

“I wonder which noble lady will marry into the estate?” There was a sigh. “Young Master Jiang is a kind person, but once the Princess Consort and side consorts enter the doors, there won’t be any room left for him.”

The conversation dipped back into conspiratorial whispers. Everyone seemed certain that once the newcomers arrived, the favored Young Master Jiang would quickly become a withered flower of yesterday.

Inside the dining hall, Jiang Yi suddenly opened his eyes.

The moonlight filtered in, illuminating his face. There wasn’t a trace of fatigue in his eyes; they were clear and bright.

The Prince is having a selection?

A selection.

Those words floated in his mind, feeling somewhat surreal. Jiang Yi stared at the full table of food, his body turning into a puddle of stagnant water as he slumped flat against the table.

Does it have to be a noble lady?

Can’t a hostage prince who isn’t ‘too’ noble do it?

Jiang Yi thought dizzily, blinking his eyes as a silly smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.

Surely it’s fine.

His Prince wasn’t the type of person to be picky about status.

As long as he prepared well, didn’t make mistakes during this period, didn’t annoy the Prince, and acted even more obedient and sensible. then, then there would surely be no problem.

Jiang Yi patted his own face.

He had always been the type of person who didn’t care if the sky fell down. He quickly threw the stifling thoughts to the back of his mind and began to fantasize about married life with the Prince.

After marrying the Prince, he could kiss and hug him openly. Whether on the bed or anywhere else, they would be inseparable and deeply in love…

“Young Master Jiang, the Prince has returned.”

Butler Liu’s voice came from outside the hall.

The Prince is finally home!

Jiang Yi bounced out of his chair, nervously straightening his collar and cuffs.

After standing up, he deliberately took small, elegant steps.

First rule of being a Princess Consort be dignified.

“Whoa”

The carriage from the palace stopped in front of the Zhao Prince Estate. Inside, Xie Cheng opened his eyes, casually stretching his frozen wrists and setting aside the now-useless hand warmer.

Everything was quiet; no one was chatting nearby.

Xie Cheng sat in the carriage for a moment, but he never heard that chirping voice. However, he didn’t show any emotion on his face as he reached out to lift the curtain and stepped out.

“We welcome the Prince’s return to the estate.”

The voice was familiar, but it was pinched, excessively affected, and mimicked a strange operatic tone.

Xie Cheng’s eyes widened slightly. His hand stayed frozen in mid-air as he looked toward the source of the sound.

Underneath the lanterns hanging on both sides of the gate, Jiang Yi stood in the circle of warm light. His newly changed robes were perfectly smooth, his feet were tucked together, and his hands were folded in front of him. He gave Xie Cheng a shy, bashful smile.

If one looked closely, two bright red circles could be seen on his cheeks, along with a dot of crimson on his lips.

Xie Cheng.

Xie Cheng sat back into the carriage.

Time-space distortion? Did I fall into an Infinite Flow dimension? Is Jiang Yi cosplaying the ghost of an opera singer who died a tragic accident? And me? Is my role in the game still a Prince?

“My Prince?” The ghost-Jiang Yi floated to the side of the carriage.

Xie Cheng took a deep breath.

“Did the Prince dine in the palace?” Jiang Yi asked.

Second rule of being a Princess Consort be considerate.

Xie Cheng didn’t respond for a long time. Jiang Yi was about to yell out a question but forced it back down. “Is the Prince tired? Shall I order the hot bath to be prepared?”

After a long silence, a voice finally came from the carriage, sounding a bit uncertain. “Jiang Yi?”

“It is I, My Prince.”

Xie Cheng took another deep breath.

Every word seemed meticulously crafted, devoid of his usual “ya,” “la,” or “ah” particles, and he hadn’t used the repetitive “Prince, Prince” nickname. It sounded incredibly awkward.

“Why have you made yourself look like a ghost?” To get Jiang Yi to return to normal quickly, Xie Cheng used a cold, hard tone and emphasized it three times: “It’s very ugly, very ugly, very ugly.”

“The Prince does not like it?” Jiang Yi tilted his head.

Xie Cheng automatically translated: The Prince doesn’t like it? Why doesn’t he like it?

“Because it’s ugly,” Xie Cheng repeated.

Up close, he could see the white powder flaking off the boy’s face. In the middle of the night, it was truly terrifying.

Jiang Yi leaned his pale face with the two red spots closer. “Will the Prince take a closer look?”

“I don’t want to look,” Xie Cheng said.

“Alright then.”

Third rule of being a Princess Consort be obedient.

Xie Cheng gave a soft “Mhm.”

However, he watched as Jiang Yi straightened his posture, adjusted his wide sleeves until they were meticulous, and asked in a deliberately slow, strange cadence: “My Prince, dinner is ready in the dining hall. I wonder if you would grace me with your presence and… dine with me?”

He changed his phrasing mid-sentence, nearly biting his tongue, but the eyes he turned toward Xie Cheng were still exceptionally bright.

If you looked at him long enough, he was actually quite pleasant to the eye.

Xie Cheng stepped down from the carriage. “Let’s go eat.”

The moonlight was as clear as white jade. Xie Cheng walked in front, his pure white cloak dusted with a layer of silver frost. Jiang Yi deliberately took a step back, walking right on top of Xie Cheng’s shadow.

“Catch up,” Xie Cheng slowed his pace.

If you want to be the Princess Consort, be obedient.

Jiang Yi kept this rule firmly in mind and scrambled to catch up. The two walked side by side on the path. The moonlight cast their shadows long, causing them to intertwine intimately.

He looked down at their shadows, carefully tugging on Xie Cheng’s sleeve while holding his breath nervously.

“After I left, did something happen?” Xie Cheng asked.

“No…” Jiang Yi immediately corrected himself. “Replying to the Prince, nothing has happened.”

“Then act normal.”

“Eh?”

Xie Cheng suddenly turned around, his hand landing on the boy’s cheek. He forcefully rubbed away the white powder caked there. “If you make yourself look this ugly again, don’t show your face in front of me.”

“My Prince, you don’t understand.”

“What?”

“This is the latest trend. The noble ladies in their chambers are all scrambling to buy this!” Caught off guard, Jiang Yi returned to his normal self, muttering incessantly.

Xie Cheng tapped him on the head and asked, “Are you a lady in a chamber?”

“Well, they don’t make anything for young masters.”

Xie Cheng:

Fine, respect everyone’s hobbies.

Still, this boy usually wouldn’t even splurge on a braised chicken leg, yet he was willing to spend on this expensive rouge and powder.

Jiang Yi continued to ramble. “When I went to the shop, the manager said it was a treasure from Persia! A single box costs five taels of silver! I saw how fine the powder was—it really is rare. I thought to myself, if this were used on the Prince’s face, it would surely suit him much better than me.”

Xie Cheng silently took a step back.

“The Prince has skin like congealed fat, while I am thick-skinned and coarse.” Jiang Yi spoke with gusto, nodding repeatedly.

After saying this, Jiang Yi slapped his own forehead in regret. “The Prince has the grace of a celestial being; using these things would actually be vulgar. No good, no good. Better to let the thick-skinned people use it.”

Xie Cheng retreated behind a tree.

“My Prince?” Jiang Yi turned around to look. “My Prince?”

Xie Cheng leaned against the tree trunk. “Do not come over here.”

Jiang Yi blinked. “My Prince, I just had Butler Liu reheat the food. We have to hurry to the dining hall, or the food will get cold again.”

“If it’s cold, it’s cold.”

He needed to eat something cold to calm himself down.

“That won’t do. The Prince has to take medicine. If you eat cold things, you’ll feel unwell later.”

Jiang Yi leaned toward Xie Cheng behind the tree. He first reached out a pinky to hook onto his sleeve. Seeing no rejection, he boldly took Xie Cheng’s hand.

Hiss, so hot.

“My Prince, you have a fever.”

Jiang Yi immediately looked up. With the help of the moonlight, he carefully examined Xie Cheng’s face. Only then did he notice the abnormal faint flush on his skin. His usually cold gaze was currently scattered and misty.

Xie Cheng exhaled a breath of hot air. “It’s nothing.”

“How can it be nothing?” Jiang Yi said anxiously. He stepped forward and hugged him, letting the Prince lean his entire weight against him.

“My body feels a bit weary,” Xie Cheng’s voice dropped low.

“I’ll take the Prince back to his room first, then call for the estate physician.” As Jiang Yi spoke, he quickly hoisted Xie Cheng onto his back.

Sickness comes like a falling mountain.

It hadn’t been long, but Xie Cheng felt his thoughts becoming disorganized. He stared fixedly at Jiang Yi’s face. “Your face really is painted filthily.”

“Huh?” Jiang Yi didn’t hear him clearly.

“I originally wanted to kiss you when I got back tonight.”

Xie Cheng buried his face into the fox-fur collar of his cloak and muttered “Never mind” to himself. When Jiang Yi turned his head, Xie Cheng lightly kissed his cheek.

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