The Little Crybaby Continues to Court Death as a Cannon Fodder - Chapter 39

Chapter 39

Night.

The Eastern Palace was ablaze with lanterns. Palace servants moved in an endless stream, every one of them beaming with joy, as if a monumental celebration were underway.

Eunuch Lin nudged Eunuch Zhang with his elbow, teasing, “You little rascal, you really have an eye for people.”

Originally, Lin had complained that going to the Hostage Manor was a thankless task—remote, desolate, and a long walk he didn’t care to take. He had been too preoccupied with watching Xie Xuanying’s drama.

Eunuch Zhang gave a modest smile. “How could I? It was just luck. More importantly, Young Master Jingshi is the one who worked for it.”

It was true. Zhang had only dropped a casual word and offered a tiny bit of help. Hua Jingshi had approached him on his own initiative, asking to use the small kitchen to prepare dinner for the Crown Prince. Anything the Prince consumed was a high-risk matter; if he fell ill, their heads would roll.

When refused, Hua Jingshi didn’t complain. He compromised: he would use the kitchen, but he wouldn’t eat the food—he would give it to the servants.

It was heavenly.

Facing the unanimous praise of the staff, the hostage prince of a defeated nation showed neither cowardice nor arrogance, maintaining a faint, humble smile. In that moment, Zhang had looked into his eyes and read ambition. Unlike Xie Xuanying, who caused trouble daily without a brain in his head, this one was a “ruthless character”—quiet, resilient, and capable of both leading and following.

Crucially, Hua Jingshi had the capital.

Eunuch Zhang helped him one more time, and the harvest was rich: the Crown Prince ordered Hua Jingshi to serve him that very night. This was the first time the Prince had kept anyone overnight!

The entire Eastern Palace was jubilant. Everyone was busy: boiling water, preparing flower petals, lighting incense…

Eunuch Lin and Eunuch Zhang passed by Xie Xuanying’s room. Lin sneered, intentionally raising his voice: “You’re right. Young Master Jingshi is capable and smart. He knows who the master of the Eastern Palace is. Tonight, he gets the Prince’s favor. Not like some stray dogs who think they’re something special just because the Prince gave them a bit of face.”

“Worthless trash.”

Xie Xuanying had been brooding in his bedroom all night. Hearing this, he nearly exploded. Who the Prince sleeps with is none of my business! If I get angry, it looks like I care. He forced down his rolling fury. Why waste breath on these foul-mouthed eunuchs?

Eunuch Zhang had long been annoyed by Xie Xuanying as well. “You tell me, are some people born blind? His Highness is so beautiful, with skin so tender it makes my eyes hurt just looking. Only some ungrateful fool—ugly, dark, looking like a piece of coal pulled out of a dung pit, filthy and stinking—”

“HAVE YOU MOTHERF***ERS SAID ENOUGH?!”

The vermilion door under the golden-nanmu plaque burst open with a massive bang and the sound of splintering wood. A hand gripped the doorframe, four bony fingers digging in so hard that the veins on the back of his hand popped like winding green snakes.

The two eunuchs stood dumbfounded, watching cracks spiderweb across the sturdy wood. They shared a look and bolted.

“Savage!” “Crude!”

With another bang, Xie Xuanying, nearly half-dead with rage, punched the wall. Blood began to seep from his knuckles. The eunuchs ran faster, vanishing in an instant. No wonder the Prince kept this man at a distance and never touched him—with a fist like that, who could survive?

Xie Xuanying leaned against the wall, gasping. Since the Prince had fed him that unknown drug, he had lost his internal power and his stamina wasn’t what it used to be. Combined with his heart’s fury, a mix of frustration and “evil fire” raced through him, making him lose control.

He looked down at his wound. The blood was very red. He remembered the cold spring—seeing those pink feet turn a vibrant, flushed red under the High Priest’s care. Even so, they had been exquisitely delicate.

How can someone be like that? How can even his feet be so good-looking? And those legs—thin and straight. The calves, which looked like they had no fat, overflowed through the man’s fingers when gripped. Does he have no bones?

The more Xie Xuanying thought, the more restless he became. He tried to stop, but the memory of the Prince’s lingering whimpers, like a kitten’s cry, echoed in his ears. He felt as if he were falling into a cultivation madness. He stared darkly into the distance toward the brightly lit quarters, unsure if he felt jealousy or hate.

Didn’t the Prince say he liked me? How long did that ‘like’ last? The moment he meets someone with a bit of looks, he can’t wait to keep them overnight.

Does he love playing with men that much!

…

Yu Qing had already bathed. His snow-white skin, flushed pink from the hot water, peeked out from his ink-black hair. Combined with his cold yet stunning face, he was a sight to behold.

“Cang He,” he said suddenly, swinging his white feet idly while sitting on the bed.

A dark shadow flashed before his eyes. A man in tight-fitting black gear knelt before the couch, his entire body covered except for a pair of emotionless eyes.

“Will you still not let us see today?” “…”

He didn’t understand why the Prince was suddenly interested in his face. The Prince had seen it before—he had called him ugly and told him to get out. Fearing he would offend again, he shook his head. “Your Highness, this servant is not good-looking.”

Yu Qing prepared to hop off the bed. He moved faster, cupping his hands beneath the Prince’s white soles, catching them perfectly.

Yu Qing laughed. “You like our feet?” “…This servant dares not.”

Before, they had kept a respectful distance. A month ago, the Prince had changed. His temperament was still difficult and prickly, but he was different. He would tease Cang He, say things to mock him, or even flirt with a mischievous expression.

Cang His eyelashes fluttered as he looked down. “Your Highness, the carpet will dirty your feet.”

Yu Qing gave a light chuckle. The carpet was newly replaced, and he had just bathed. Both he and the carpet were clean. He was just being stubborn. “Your Highness is fragrant. The carpet is not.”

So the carpet is dirty, and the Prince is clean.

Yu Qing found his hidden guard very interesting. He had been trained as a death-soldier since childhood; his martial prowess was unquestionable, but his mind was “one-track”—a bit “stupid” in Yu Qing’s eyes. Now he was even finding ways to praise the fragrance of his feet.

Everyone likes a compliment, and Yu Qing was no exception. Seeing Cang He staring blankly at his instep, he gave another soft huff.

The original Prince had hated Cang He, even making him blindfold himself while the Prince bathed. Since Yu Qing arrived, his “young master” habits had flared up, and he had ordered the hidden Cang He to help him undress and scrub his back. After just a few words, Cang He’s face would turn red and his eyes would dart away, as if Yu Qing were a street thug harassing a virtuous man.

Later, as they grew more familiar, Yu Qing noticed that Cang He would stare at his feet whenever he had the chance.

The bedroom was incredibly luxurious, the bed large enough for a dozen people. Gossamer silk curtains fluttered on both sides. Yu Qing looked down at the man kneeling respectfully at his feet, hands still cupping his white soles.

Yu Qing leaned back on his hands. The room was cooled by heaps of ice, and the chilly air brushed against his freshly bathed skin, causing goosebumps. Feeling the chill, Yu Qing moved his feet, but Cang He’s fingers tightened slightly, as if afraid he would leave.

This made the Prince smile again. He withdrew his feet and slowly used his toes to lift Cang He’s chin. “Do you like them that much?”

The little Prince was sensitive to heat, so his inner trousers were pushed up to his thighs. Those snow-white, slender legs and perfect feet fell into Cang He’s line of sight without reservation. Cang His throat bobbed. His usually calm heart felt like a storm was hitting it.

In the past, when the Prince teased him like this, he had always played hard-to-get out of embarrassment. This time, Cang He answered frankly: “Yes.”

He added, “I like them very much.”

With his chin forced up, Cang He’s face was still hidden by black cloth, leaving only his eyes—which were locked onto the blue-veined insteps of the Prince’s feet with obsession.

This time, Cang He didn’t get an answer. The Prince was like that—he’d play with you when he was in the mood and kick you away when he wasn’t. Cang He was used to the Prince’s volatility, yet he couldn’t hide the spreading sense of loss.

As Cang He grew despondent, the Prince leaned forward. His collar dipped, revealing a snowy shoulder and a large portion of his chest. Snowy white dominated Cang He’s vision, accompanied by a faint fragrance. His throat bobbed again as a hand, separated by the black cloth, cupped his face.

“Since you like them so much, the US permits you to play with them. How about it?” As Cang opened his lips, the Prince pressed a fingertip against the spot where his mouth was. “You can use this place, too.”

He knew the price. To “play” with the Prince, he had to remove the black cloth. The Prince still wanted to see his face.

His thoughts were in a tug-of-war. This was the first reward he had received after years of protecting the Prince. He thought his heart was like still water, yet he was easily swayed. He was afraid the Prince would call him ugly again and their relationship would revert to the cold past. Moreover… he truly believed he was unattractive.

As a hidden guard, his features weren’t supposed to be prominent. He had been ordered to keep his face covered. Compared to the Prince’s heavenly beauty, he often felt inferior.

But he gave his answer. He reached up and slowly unwound the black cloth, revealing a handsome, rugged face. A sharp jawline, a high nose, and thin lips pressed into a repressed line.

Looking at him, Yu Qing finally understood why Cang He hid his face—he was too striking.

“Have you bathed?” Cang He nodded. Yu Qing turned and moved further into the bed. Behind the misty silk curtains, his stunning face became a blur.

“Come up.”

His voice sounded ethereal and indifferent through the curtains, like a spirit from a ghost story luring men to their doom. He removed his shoes and socks and crawled onto the bed, making sure to pull the silk curtains completely shut.

…

Sometime later, Hua Jingshi followed a procession of palace servants, his mind in a daze. His palms were sweating again.

Everything had gone too smoothly—far exceeding his expectations. He had only hoped to make an impression on the Prince. He never expected to be kept overnight so soon. Though the nannies had taught him “the ways,” theory and reality were different. The Prince was of noble birth; surely he wouldn’t be the one on the bottom.

He recalled that stunning, cold face—the tender skin and slender frame. He couldn’t imagine how such a Prince would take the lead.

“Young Master Jingshi, whatever the Prince wants to do, you just endure it, understand?” the nanny whispered. “The Prince is frail; you must never resist. If it hurts or you’re tired, just bear it. A moment of endurance for a lifetime of wealth—it’s worth it.”

Hua Jingshi smiled bitterly in his heart but nodded obediently. “Jingshi understands.”

He was sent into the room, and the vermilion doors were closed. No servants remained inside. The Prince’s quarters were infinitely luxurious, with ice blocks in the corner providing a chill. He walked toward the inner chamber, but stopped dead when he heard a suppressed, sobbing whimper.

Layers of gossamer silk curtains blocked his view like a mist, but he could see two shadows. The smaller one was surely the Prince; he was lying back on the bed, one leg bent, the other slightly lifted off the mattress, his ankle held by a large hand.

The shadows shifted, and he could clearly see the Prince trembling—as if in fear. The sobbing whimpers continued to leak out, accompanied by strange, wet sounds, like a starving wolf devouring a meal.

Who is this? Who could sneak into the Eastern Palace and do something so disgraceful!

As Hua Jingshi stood paralyzed, a breeze from an open window blew the silk curtains aside, revealing the scene.

The Prince’s inner robe was half-open. He was leaning weakly against a jade pillow, revealing a smooth shoulder. His arms were as white as lotus roots, now flushed like crushed peach blossoms. His expression was dazed, his eyes half-closed and watery. His snow-white cheeks were pink, and his forehead glistened with a fine layer of sweat under the glow of the night pearls.

Hua Jingshi was stunned. He knew the Prince was beautiful, but the impact of this sight felt like a dream. His throat bobbed.

The Prince suddenly arched his neck, then slumped back down. He breathed out hot air through lips wet from being licked, his mouth pursing then slowly relaxing. He bit down on his own slender finger to stifle a sound, but out of fear of pain, he didn’t bite hard.

The Prince took two breaths and kicked out. A drop of crystalline sweat fell from his calf into the bedding. “Bad dog that bites people.”

“…Your Highness…” a voice rasped—filled with pleading, repression, and heavy emotion.

Yu Qing was too tired to care. He propped himself up, his dark hair sticking to his temples, his face flushed and his eyes brimming with tears. With his hair disheveled, he truly looked like a seductive ghost.

“Enough, that’s it for today,” the little Prince said impatiently, his voice noticeably raspy. “Go close the window.”

Because he rarely saw the sun, Cang He was very pale, making the flush on his face look almost sickly. He was still staring at the Prince’s exquisite white feet—now glistening and in a mess. Being a trained professional, he quickly regained his composure. He didn’t have time to put the black cloth back on; he pulled back the curtain and stepped out.

He locked eyes with a strange man. His expression turned icy as he immediately grabbed the intruder by the throat. “Who sent you?”

Yu Qing pulled back the curtain. “He just arrived at the Hall of Aides. He’s not an assassin. Let him go.”

Cang He pursed his lips, remembering who this was. He reluctantly let go. Hua Jingshi collapsed to the floor, clutching his neck and coughing.

“Your Highness, he saw my face.” “So he saw it. He won’t tell anyone.” “Your Highness!” Cang He cried.

In Yu Qing’s eyes, Hua Jingshi was part of a vulnerable group, and he was always lenient toward the weak. If he took the man’s life just for seeing a face, he wouldn’t feel at peace. Besides, Jingshi couldn’t go back to the Jing Dynasty anyway.

Cang He clenched his fists. Out of the Prince’s sight, his gaze toward Hua Jingshi was like ice, wishing he could cut him into a thousand pieces. But he was helpless. Hua Jingshi was exceptionally handsome. Standing there, the two of them almost looked like a perfect pair.

With a mix of jealousy and inferiority, Cang He closed the window. While coughing, Hua Jingshi noticed the wet traces on the man’s nose and lips. He looked at the Prince’s feet. Sure enough, there were traces there, too.

“What are you doing here?” Yu Qing asked.

Hua Jingshi’s neck had a red mark, and his face was pale from fright. When asked, his handsome face showed a wounded expression. Yu Qing suddenly remembered what he had promised the man.

Just as he was about to say something to fix it, Hua Jingshi knelt upright and crawled toward him. He was bolder this time. He reached out and hugged the Prince’s bare calf, looking up with a piteous expression. “Your Highness, Jingshi is here to serve you.”

Yu Qing remembered. He hummed and helped Hua Jingshi up, about to ask if his neck hurt, but Hua Jingshi suddenly “snuggled” into his arms. A man much taller and stronger than him acting like a small bird clinging to its mate was a comical sight.

“Your Highness, Jingshi had no intention of spying or interrupting. I should leave, but I truly cannot bear to be apart from you…” Tears began to fall. “I have no intention of coming between Your Highness and… Brother.”

He froze. “Brother?”

Hua Jingshi, who had been boneless and weak in the Prince’s arms, suddenly looked up. He turned his head halfway; in the shadows where the Prince couldn’t see, his eyes were as deep as the night. When the Prince looked down at him, he instantly switched back to his timid, terrified look, as if Cang He’s stare had frightened his soul.

“You came before Jingshi,” he said softly. “Naturally, you deserve to be called ‘Brother’.”