The Little Crybaby Continues to Court Death as a Cannon Fodder - Chapter 37

Chapter 37

Long before this, rumors of hauntings in the Deep Heart Pavilion had already spread through the palace.

The Deep Heart Pavilion was the High Priest’s sanctuary for communicating with the heavens. Located in a remote corner, the structure rose high into the sky a sleepless lighthouse standing in the distance, inspiring awe and dread.

Yu Qing had little feeling for witchcraft or sorcery. He lacked religious conviction, but due to his frail health, his family had spent years burning incense, praying to Buddha, and donating to temples to accumulate merit. In his early years, he believed gods might protect him; unfortunately, reality dealt him a stinging blow. His condition only worsened, and the famous doctors hired at great expense were helpless, let alone these ethereal entities.

To instill awe in believers, religious buildings are always grand and magnificent, designed to crush the spirit and elicit endless worship and spiritual surrender. The Deep Heart Pavilion followed this rule. Most palace servants saw it as a place of lingering gloom and ghostly auras; this was partly due to the “chilling” effect of the cold spring and partly due to the visual weight of the architecture.

Until his calf was grabbed, Yu Qing had remained a steadfast materialist.

The icy, slick touch wrapping around his leg was a constant reminder: He had actually encountered a ghost.

He had dismissed everyone earlier for peace and quiet, and now he regretted it bitterly. His legs trembled with fear. His slender arms leaned shakily against the bank, his back arching as he ducked down, revealing two delicate dimples at his lower back. Just as he was wondering what to do, his foot slipped. The sole of his foot, already soaked in the icy spring, became wet and slimy, even generating a strange sensation of heat.

The hands leaning on the bank couldn’t stabilize him. Just as he was about to slip, a sudden splash erupted as a massive figure breached the surface. Shards of water flew like falling snow, blurring his vision into a misty haze.

His feet were lifted off the ground. The void of insecurity made Yu Qing reach out and grab anything he could touch. As the sound of the water faded, he realized something was wrong.

A solid arm was crossed over his lower back—it was the thing lifting him up. His eyelashes were hung with tiny ice droplets, but his vision remained clear. He tentatively looked down, only to see a back that rose and fell like a snowy mountain peak.

So tall…

His first reaction was the height; his second was that this wasn’t a ghost, but a person. Though the body he held was cold, after a moment in the air, the skin gradually warmed with human heat. The chest muscles were soft; when Yu Qing reached out to pinch them, they flushed red.

“Crown Prince.”

The other party showed no displeasure at being offended. His voice was light and indifferent, carrying a distancing chill that made people hesitant to approach. Yu Qing held the man’s arm and straightened his back to take a look.

Water droplets covered the man’s face. His ink-black hair snaked over his cold, white skin like black serpents. His features were sharp and handsome, and his smoke-gray eyes were like dark spots in a vast expanse of snow—bone-chilling and unapproachable, yet filled with mystery.

This was the first time he had met the High Priest of the Deep Heart Pavilion.

The original Prince had been terrified of the High Priest, always taking the long way around the pavilion. Such a sacred and unapproachable existence easily inspired fear. The primary reason, however, was the ominous legend behind the High Priest.

Wet hair clung to the man’s ears, causing discomfort. Wei Shengyin held Yu Qing with one arm and casually brushed his hair back with the other, revealing his full, icy face. It was a face meant for distance, yet the teardrop-shaped red earring added a touch of exotic flair.

Yu Qing stared at Wei Shengyin without blinking, his eyes full of novelty and curiosity—much like a naughty child seeing a new toy. Unfortunately, Wei Shengyin rarely interacted with people. He had been exiled as an anomaly since childhood; after entering the palace, he focused solely on Taoist cultivation, speaking fewer than ten sentences a month.

But today, he spoke for the second time: “Crown Prince.”

Yu Qing didn’t care about the cold tone. Instead, he squeezed his legs tighter, locking himself onto Wei Shengyin like an ornament.

“You lied to us,” Yu Qing began in an equally cold tone. “We visited today, but you refused to see us, lying that you weren’t in the pavilion while you were here bathing. High Priest, you have quite the nerve.”

Wei Shengyin was not good at social interaction, nor was he familiar with palace rules. Hearing the little Prince’s questioning, he remained silent, staring back with an expressionless face.

The chill from the cold spring drifted up from below. Yu Qing’s legs and backside were getting cold, but he hadn’t experienced such coolness in a long time and found himself wanting more. The legs wrapped around the man’s waist shifted, trying to let the cool air reach every part of him.

Before Yu Qing could find a comfortable position, his shoulder stiffened. His gaze turned icy as he glared at Wei Shengyin. “High Priest, what is the meaning of this?”

Wei Shengyin’s unflappable face froze. His thin lips moved as if to explain, but ultimately he remained silent, choosing to accept the accusation.

He can talk, yet he insists on acting like a mute. Yu Qing, neglected several times now, grew annoyed. In his greed for the cold, he suddenly remembered: to avoid getting his inner trousers wet, he was currently naked.

So, he was hanging onto someone in this state while spouting cold threats? No wonder the man didn’t take him seriously!

Yu Qing let out a cold snort. He pressed his hands against the man’s chest. His snowy palms sank into the man’s chest muscles, his fingertips white with a hint of pink. Pressed against the cold white skin, it carried an inexplicable suggestiveness.

“Let Us Go.”

He issued the arrogant command, and this time Wei Shengyin was obedient, letting go without hesitation.

Without Wei Shengyin holding him, he naturally fell. Seeing that he was about to plunge into the cold spring, his face turned pale. Just as the tip of his buttocks was about to hit the water, Wei Shengyin realized the error.

Wei Shengyin’s long arm reached out with the force of the breaking wind, actually saving the Prince from falling. Yu Qing was still in a state of shock and fear. Wei Shengyin only had time to catch him; he hadn’t lifted him back up fully.

Yu Qing slid down a bit against Wei Shengyin before the stiffened High Priest supported his buttocks and slowly lifted him up into his arms.

This time, Wei Shengyin’s voice was clearly hesitant: “Crown Prince.”

“Do you even recognize us as the Crown Prince?!”

Yu Qing’s temper flared. His fear and anger were drowned in shame. The feeling of sliding against the other man was particularly disgusting—it was so slippery. He wondered if Wei Shengyin had done it on purpose—waiting until he was perfectly “embedded” before lifting him.

The thought of something dirty touching him made him miserable. He laughed with pure rage: “High Priest, you certainly know how to play.”

“Crown Prince!”

Though Wei Shengyin’s expression didn’t change, his earlobes turned a brilliant red, matching his blood-red pendant. He lifted his eyes, staring directly at Yu Qing with smoke-gray pupils. “I… I did not.”

Yu Qing was placed firmly on the ground. He was barefoot. The cold spring glistened in the sunlight, reflecting off his white feet where the veins traced delicate paths. His toes were rounded, his feet small—the kind of sight that made one want to reach out and play with them.

“You are audacious, to dare offend us so.”

Wei Shengyin wanted to explain, but when Yu Qing looked down at the “evidence” of his reaction, the Priest fell silent instantly. He pursed his lips, went aside to retrieve some clothes, and covered himself.

Finally, he had outer robes to hide behind, but his “assets” were too significant. Because of the water, the wet fabric clung to his body, outlining his muscular frame and his aggressive evidence.

Yu Qing looked down and glared fiercely again. To his surprise, Wei Shengyin showed no shame; instead, things seemed to escalate. With the evidence now undeniable, he snorted: “Let Us think of how to punish you.”

While Yu Qing said he was thinking, his eyes were already darting toward the cold spring. He frowned, pondered for a moment, and said: “To make you remember this, the cold spring of the Deep Heart Pavilion now belongs to Us. From now on, Us will come to the Deep Heart Pavilion every day to enjoy the aircon to soak my feet.”

Yu Qing felt quite proud of himself after saying that, totally failing to notice that Wei Shengyin had stepped in front of him. When he reacted, Wei Shengyin was looking down at him. Wei Shengyin was truly tall; Yu Qing was certain he had foreign blood. For some reason, when he looked into Wei Shengyin’s eyes, the Priest lowered his lids, partially obscuring his pupils.

“Crown Prince, please lift your foot.”

Wei Shengyin slowly knelt before him. In one hand was a towel; the other held his calf. The little Prince only looked thin; his body was actually quite soft and fleshy. When Wei Shengyin gripped his calf, his bony fingers sank easily into the skin.

Yu Qing was used to being served and didn’t think it was a big deal for a High Priest to help him with his trousers. His calf was lifted, and Wei Shengyin focused on drying his foot with the cloth.

The water droplets coated his white feet in a shimmering film. Wei Shengyin was careful enough, but the Prince was overly sensitive. The towels in the pavilion were too rough for him. The friction of the cloth against his skin made Yu Qing unable to resist leaning down, resting his slender hands on the man’s shoulders.

Both froze. Wei Shengyin looked up, but was pushed back down. A bashful, annoyed voice rang out from above: “What are you looking at!”

Wei Shengyin was bad at social cues and couldn’t tell if the Prince was actually angry. So, he obeyed and continued drying the water.

“You… you… how can you be so clumsy!”

Yu Qing was being tortured by the cloth. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, making them look wet and red. He was naturally ticklish, and his feet were highly sensitive; a simple touch triggered a large reaction. As Wei Shengyin wiped his feet with the “crude” towel, he suspected the man was doing it on purpose!

“…You… you.”

A soft, trembling plea crept into his voice. He extended a leg and kicked the man’s chest. “Be gentler.”

But Wei Shengyin was clearly already being very gentle. The hands on his shoulders began to slip. Yu Qing seemed unable to stand steadily, his body turning soft and leaning forward. Eventually, he couldn’t stand the itch from his feet and leaned forward clumsily—just as Wei Shengyin looked up, meeting him face-to-face.

Wei Shengyin had likely wanted to say something. He was a man of few words, weighing every sentence for a long time before speaking. However, the moment he prepared to speak, the little Prince “intruded.”

The Prince of the Qing Dynasty had been pampered since birth. Everything he used was meticulously selected, resulting in skin as white and tender as jade—exquisite in every way. The Prince didn’t push him away; he was likely startled too.

…But why be startled?

Even if Wei Shengyin didn’t like communicating with the outside world, he had heard the servants talk of the Prince’s romantic scandals. Kidnapping men, committing every kind of evil—any handsome man the Prince set his eyes on would be taken into the Hall of Aides as a favorite. To the Crown Prince, shouldn’t this be quite normal?

Why be so surprised? Had those favorites never done this to the Prince?

Wei Shengyin’s world was simple: Taoism and the nation’s fortune. He was easy to satisfy; he only needed a place to be, a place to sleep, and food to eat. His simple way of satisfaction led to a simple way of thinking: if you want something, you do it.

Wei Shengyin slowly retracted his teeth, like a beast hiding its fangs.

The air seemed to stand still. Yu Qing’s lips parted silently, his red face a mask of confusion and shock. He pursed his lips into a pitiful curve. Just as Yu Qing was about to snap, the screen behind them fell.

Xie Xuanying, who had been tossed into the small spring earlier, had finally cleared the drug’s effects. Though he was disheveled and disarrayed, his mind was clear enough to think.

He had actually licked Prince Adam’s apple in front of everyone. This was the person he loathed most, the one he wanted to eliminate! Don’t think for a second that helping him with the medicine would change his view of this dog-Prince. Impossible.

Xie Xuanying crawled onto the bank. The silhouettes behind the screen were in a bizarre posture: one man kneeling, the other leaning down pressed against his face, his flexible body practically draped over the man’s back. He hadn’t intended to interrupt, but then he heard a familiar, soft whimper.

The screen was shoved down.

Seeing the scene before him, the blood rushed to his head. The thoughts and heat he had suppressed with the cold water surged back, hitting him with even greater, more unstoppable force. Yet the two were so engrossed, as if in a world of their own, failing to notice the screen falling or the third person in the room—Xie Xuanying.

Xie Xuanying’s eyes were bloodshot. He locked onto them like a bailiff gathering evidence, wishing he had more eyes to catch every detail. His intense focus yielded results: he could see how the Prince’s snowy face was being invaded by a deep pink, and how the kneeling man was “serving” the Crown Prince.

“What… what are you doing…”

The little Prince used his soft, weak hands to push at the man’s face. It didn’t look like a refusal; it looked like a rewarding caress. And the man who received the “reward” worked even harder.

Xie Xuanying was nearly fainting from rage. Dammit.

How can anyone talk like that? Did this dog-Prince not understand? Using that tone and that expression at a time like this wasn’t expressing resistance—it was encouragement!

Disgusting.

Xie Xuanying turned his head away, but in the blink of an eye, his neck involuntarily snapped back. His feet felt possessed, stepping forward. He could see more clearly now.

How can this Prince be so… so… so beautiful. His legs were white and well-proportioned, not just thin but smooth. When the large, bony hand gripped the calf, the flesh overflowed slightly. His joints were pink, his slightly tiptoed feet were pink, and even what was in front of the man was pink.

Xie Xuanying’s throat went dry. He suspected the drug hadn’t worn off. He yanked at his collar, and with a rip, his outer robe tore.

No, I have to go back in the water.

As he prepared to dive back into the cold spring, the little Prince suddenly turned his head. His wet, red face was full of panic, and his red lips parted to let out a soft whimper: “Mm—”

Xie Xuanying exploded instantly.

“You… you…”

“Shameless!”