The Little Crybaby Continues to Court Death as a Cannon Fodder - Chapter 42

Chapter 42

Qiu Zhiruo gazed at the Crown Prince before him. Yu Qing’s chin was slightly tilted, his expression holding a touch of nonchalance. The midday sun had painted a faint, hazy crimson onto his cheeks, yet his arms, collarbone, and chest remained as pure and white as untouched snow.

Seeing that the Prime Minister did not move, the Prince raised a slender, pale leg. The skin that met Qiu Zhiruo’s eyes was exquisitely smooth, and the white foot was delicate and small, like a masterpiece meticulously carved by a master craftsman.

However, this “artwork” was currently behaving quite maliciously, stepping on him repeatedly. Yu Qing leaned back naturally, his entire weight supported by his arms, his eyes brimming with the mischievous intent of someone watching a spectacle.

The Prince was not related to him by blood.

Almost no one knew that the Prince’s mother, the late Empress, was an adopted daughter of the Qiu family. She had grown up as a childhood sweetheart to the Emperor. From the moment of his birth, Yu Qing was the Crown Prince and the Emperor’s only offspring. Naturally, he was the center of everyone’s adoration, raised in the palm of their hands. Pampered to the extreme, he had developed a wicked temperament—arrogant and utterly willful.

By the time Qiu Zhiruo wanted to correct Yu Qing’s bad habits, it was already too late. The “uncle” and “nephew” were not only at odds but showed signs of becoming enemies.

Qiu Zhiruo was momentarily lost in thought until a sudden sensation snapped him back to reality.

The little Prince still wore that cynical, playboy facade. Because he was so excessively refined and carried an innate nobility, even his malicious pranks felt like a form of reward. The summer clothing was thin, but unfortunately, the Prime Minister’s court robes were too thick and heavy to allow for full sensation.

Qiu Zhiruo shed his outer robe and wrapped Yu Qing in it tightly. Following a startled cry, Yu Qing was hoisted onto his shoulder.

This was not a comfortable position. Yu Qing’s soft belly pressed against the man’s hard shoulder bone. Hanging upside down, his small face flushed with blood—partly from anger, partly from shame. Qiu Zhiruo actually dared to carry him out like this? Where would his dignity as the Crown Prince be after today!

“Qiu Zhiruo, you dare commit such an insubordination!” the little Prince cried out in a panicked sob, using both hands and feet to kick and hit him. “Let Us down this instant!”

Yu Qing’s struggle did not intimidate Qiu Zhiruo; instead, it only made the Prince more uncomfortable. Although the man walked steadily, being slung over a shoulder made the Prince feel nauseous. He let out a small, dry retch. Qiu Zhiruo’s steady pace faltered for a moment, and Yu Qing immediately covered his mouth to prevent anything more embarrassing from happening.

“Your Highness, my court robes are far too large for you. If you insist on struggling, the robes might slip off before we even reach the Eastern Palace,” Qiu Zhiruo said, loosening his grip to let Yu Qing slide down. Before the Prince could bolt, Qiu Zhiruo swept him up and held him in a bridal carry. “You wouldn’t want to see that scene.”

The little Prince had a grand temper, but he was equally concerned with his “face.” To be humiliated in public was more painful to him than physical punishment. As soon as Qiu Zhiruo spoke, Yu Qing stopped struggling. He looked calm as he huddled in Qiu Zhiruo’s arms, but his heart was roiling with fury.

Once they returned to the Eastern Palace, he would definitely make Qiu Zhiruo pay! Uncle or not, there is no room for family sentiment when it comes to the hierarchy of monarch and subject.

Qiu Zhiruo had accurately grasped Yu Qing’s psychology. Along the way, the little Prince didn’t just stop resisting; he became exceptionally cooperative. He obediently buried his head in the man’s chest until his face turned red from lack of air, then peeked out to take small breaths before burying himself again.

When they arrived at the Eastern Palace, the servants were lined up respectfully in a grand display. The leader, dressed in red, saw them approaching, and his handsome face stiffened.

Qiu Zhiruo had no intention of acknowledging Hua Jingshi. Carrying Yu Qing, he cut through the crowd and headed straight for the bedroom, dropping a single command: “No one is to enter or disturb us without my permission.”

“This is My Eastern Palace! By what right do you command them!” Back on his own turf, Yu Qing regained his “fear-nothing” arrogance. In his anger, he even forgot to use the royal “Us.”

Qiu Zhiruo ignored his protest and turned to Eunuch Lin: “Do not let anyone in.”

The aloof and cold man carried the little Prince into the bedroom. Hua Jingshi tried to follow, but the door slammed shut in his face. Hua Jingshi was unwilling to give up and reached out to knock, but Eunuch Lin pulled him aside with a horrified expression. “Young Master Jingshi, you mustn’t! The Prime Minister is His Highness’s own uncle; their bond is not something for the likes of us to compare ourselves to.”

“But His Highness was unwilling…”

“His Highness has always been afraid of the Prime Minister. Look around—who else in the palace dares to treat His Highness this way? Young Master Jingshi, it’s best not to interfere, lest you bring disaster upon yourself.”

Hua Jingshi understood the logic, but he hadn’t missed the mocking, disdainful look Qiu Zhiruo had shot him—as if laughing at his insignificance. His intuition told him that Qiu Zhiruo’s feelings for the Prince were anything but pure.

Reason told Hua Jingshi to mind his own business. Even if Qiu Zhiruo harbored unholy thoughts toward his own nephew, what did it matter to him? He just wanted to stay alive and live a good life.

…But he couldn’t do it. The Prince was arrogant, but his nature was simple. His reaction to the kiss last night was green and confused; he had been so embarrassed by his own saliva that he wiped away tears in a corner, afraid of being seen. If Qiu Zhiruo used the guise of an elder to commit misdeeds, the little Prince would surely be too foolish to resist—or might even open himself up out of fear.

This is a wicked entrapment!

At the thought of someone else doing to the Prince what he had done last night, his insides burned. He turned back toward the door. Just as his palm touched the wood, a thud came from inside, followed by a very faint, airy moan that leaked through the cracks.

Hua Jingshi was nailed to the spot. He could no longer maintain his gentle facade, causing Eunuch Lin to look at him strangely. After a long while, he adjusted his expression and whispered, “Jingshi understands. Thank you, Eunuch Lin.”

No one knew better than he what kind of situation prompted the Prince to make that specific sound.

…

Inside the Bedroom

Yu Qing struggled all the way, his waist easily gripped as he was lifted. He kicked wildly at Qiu Zhiruo. This disobedient behavior did not anger the man; instead, Qiu Zhiruo pressed him against the door.

Yu Qing was pushed so suddenly he thought he would hit the wood, but he felt no pain—Qiu Zhiruo’s palms had cushioned the back of his head and back. Before he could steady himself, Qiu Zhiruo leaned down and kissed him, giving him no time to breathe, let alone speak.

When the hot, wet tongue entered his mouth, Yu Qing turned completely soft and weak, his scalp tingling. He widened his eyes, looking at Qiu Zhiruo in disbelief. How could he do this! They… they were…

His shock didn’t last long. Soon, his eyelashes fluttered, his eyelids grew heavy, and his bright eyes were veiled by layers of mist.

Qiu Zhiruo only looked refined; a man who could hold the position of Prime Minister was no saint. His kiss was a violent plundering from the start. Heavy breathing mixed with the sound of swallowing created a sense of delirious chaos.

The inexperienced Yu Qing was no match for such a frantic kiss. Though it was Qiu Zhiruo’s first time, he was a natural at finding the sensitive spots in Yu Qing’s mouth, sending sparks through the Prince’s bones until he melted into a pool of liquid.

His mouth was occupied, his body was melting, but his mind struggled—they couldn’t do this… they couldn’t…

“Mnh—”

Qiu Zhiruo suddenly licked a bit too deep. The sharp sting of pleasure made the Prince whimper. The small hands that originally tried to push the man away now curled weakly in the air before landing softly on the man’s shoulders, scratching slowly as if flirting.

With a shua sound, the court robes fell to the floor. The snowy-white inner garments, soaked with sweat, clung to his body, outlining every curve. Just one look—one single look—and Qiu Zhiruo seemed to go mad. He cupped the Prince’s face with force, forcing him to stand on his tiptoes to endure this fierce, domineering kiss.

Yu Qing was breathless, his slender legs shaking. He lacked stamina and soon couldn’t bear it, wrapping his trembling arms around the man’s neck to piteously borrow his strength. This gesture gave Qiu Zhiruo immense encouragement. He rubbed through the sweat-soaked silk, his tongue pushing even harder into Yu Qing’s mouth. The temperature in the room climbed as the Prince broke into a heavy sweat, the sweet scent of his body pouring into the man’s palms.

Yu Qing struggled and surrendered by turns. He felt he was suffocating. His reason told him he would die if they didn’t stop, and his survival instinct prompted a sobbing plea for mercy. He didn’t know that to the maddened Qiu Zhiruo, this sound was like heavenly music, making every inch of his scalp tingle with excitement.

“Uncle… Uncle…”

Yu Qing’s lips trembled. His lip pearl was swollen from the repeated sucking, looking like a bright, dripping pomegranate. His mouth was numb, and his throat had been prodded several times, the sensation making him shake uncontrollably. He clutched the man’s hair, his body almost entirely hanging off the man, as he looked up with a panicked, fierce expression. “Presumptuous! If you continue, Us… The US will charge you with a crime…”

The arrogance he had shown at the cold spring was gone. Yu Qing was already afraid of this uncle by blood, and the events of the last few minutes had left him utterly soul-shaken.

Qiu Zhiruo stroked his hair and carried him slowly back to the bed, pressing him down onto his lap. The Prince’s legs curled up instinctively, his feet landing at the edge of the bed. Since the Prince had exhausted himself from kicking, Qiu Zhiruo began to massage his wrists and calves.

As he rubbed, his eyes fell upon the redness on the Prince’s feet.

Yu Qing’s feet were exceptionally white and tender. Because he rarely walked and avoided the sun, his skin was like congealed jade—to call it “breakable by a breath” was no exaggeration. However, one foot was now mottled and bruised. Against the snowy backdrop, the marks looked terrifyingly vivid; in places where the force had been too much, there were even hints of blue.

“Your Highness, who did this?” Qiu Zhiruo gripped the ankle that was still swaying. His voice was low and slow, yet filled with an undeniable hardness. “Who was it?”

Yu Qing could have told him; it wasn’t a secret. But then he thought: in what capacity was Qiu Zhiruo asking? Uncle? Prime Minister? If the former, the bond of family had been shattered by the man’s treasonous actions just now. If the latter, there was even less reason to explain.

The little Prince had originally wanted to tease the Prime Minister to satisfy his own bad temper, but he hadn’t expected to lose out again and again—even being kissed.

Yu Qing’s silence made Qiu Zhiruo feel even more strangely calm. It didn’t matter who did it. The Prince was young; what was the harm in keeping a few “toys” around? They were just fresh things meant to serve with their beauty; once the Prince grew tired of them, Qiu Zhiruo would deal with them.

The naive Prince thought silence would avoid the problem, but a strange sensation hit him. It felt as if he had been dipped into a hot spring; from his soles to his calves to the backs of his knees, the warmth climbed, making him shudder. He was flipped over, his small face buried in the snowy bedding. When he lifted his head again, his face was a dark, stifled crimson.

The Prince was well-fed and “well-raised.” Every inch of his body was perfectly proportioned—not skin and bones, but rounded and supple. When he broke into a sweat, he emitted that sweet(alluring) fragrance. Qiu Zhiruo breathed it in from a close distance, closing his eyes and leaving a trail of pecking kisses. Each kiss carried a trace of unspent anger, prompting the Prince’s legs to kick out feebly.

To Qiu Zhiruo, this struggle was no different from flirting. He breathed in the scent, took a hard suck, and asked: “Who did it?”

He clearly didn’t care who did it, yet he insisted on finding a reason to discipline the Prince. His behavior was malicious, a deliberate act of teasing. The simple Prince didn’t realize this, thinking only that the Prime Minister was being a busybody.

“Is the Prime Minister not overstepping his bounds?” Yu Qing’s eyes snapped open. “—Mnh! Qiu Zhiruo, you are presumptuous!”

Presumptuous.

Today, Qiu Zhiruo had heard this word from the Prince countless times. The normally disciplined, ritual-abiding Prime Minister had thrown his gentlemanly decorum to the wind. Like a street rogue, he pressed further.

Yu Qing’s eyes grew red, and even the tips of his ears turned a vivid color. He stammered words like “punishment” and “crimes,” trying to make Qiu Zhiruo repent. Finally, unable to hold back his grievances, he cried out with a sob, “Us is the Crown Prince!”

How could Qiu Zhiruo treat him with such disrespect! And yet, he couldn’t escape—he was like a little white rabbit who had jumped into a hunter’s trap, only to find himself wanting to offer himself up to the hunter’s mouth.

The little Prince angrily bit his own finger, cursing through his sobs: “Pervert!”

Yu Qing truly couldn’t understand why anyone liked this. Wasn’t it… wasn’t it dirty? People who liked this were no different from perverts!

While he struggled to understand, Qiu Zhiruo looked intoxicated. Seeing the Prince still trying to resist, the man simply grabbed both of Yu Qing’s wrists and pinned them behind his waist.

“Your Highness, did you not ask me to serve you?” Qiu Zhiruo lifted his face. He still looked elegant and noble, aside from his ruffled hair and raspy voice. “Your Highness is a person of thousand-fold gold; naturally, I must serve you with all my heart. To ensure nothing is missed, I cannot be careless.”

Yu Qing widened his eyes, shocked that such shameless words could come from Qiu Zhiruo’s mouth. He tried to turn his head to look, but his hands were bound behind him.

“You’re only so-so,” he said coldly. “Compared to the people by Us’s side, Qiu Zhiruo, you are more than a little lacking. Us felt absolutely nothing. You are truly useless.”

Mocked so by the Prince, Qiu Zhiruo did not get angry. He truly lacked experience and was indeed clumsy.

“Your Highness, I naturally cannot compare to those… male prostitutes. But I come from a clean family, and I have the advantage of being ‘pure’.” Qiu Zhiruo’s thumb rubbed against Yu Qing’s wrist, warming the skin. Noticing the Prince’s breathing quicken, he gave a light laugh. “I will do much better.”

Just give me a little more time.

Yu Qing was about to snap back when he suddenly found it difficult to breathe. He strained his chest upward for air, but his eyes suddenly lost focus, and his expression turned to one of total bewilderment.

Qiu Zhiruo was, after all, the youngest Prime Minister in the Qing Dynasty. Since childhood, he had shown brilliant intelligence. To him, learning something new was the simplest thing in the world. He attended to every detail, leaving not even a tiny wrinkle overlooked.

Yu Qing pursed his lips, looking like he was about to cry again. He wanted to grab something, his trembling fingers scratching at the bedding, but he could find no purchase. Finally, he slumped weakly against the jade pillow. The pillow was icy, but upon meeting the heat, it steamed into a faint mist. His weak fingers scratched at the surface, turning the mist into wet streaks. Amidst the swirling vapor, Yu Qing was lifted up, his face pressed against the side.

His lip pearl and cheek were squashed into a soft mound of flesh. His flushed face was dazed, and a silver thread of saliva unconsciously escaped the corner of his mouth, forming a small stream by the pillow. The air was thick with sweetness.

Suddenly, the little Prince shuddered as if shocked. His eyes widened, then he blinked confusedly, looking quite dazed. Before he could get angry, he turned into a soft mess. The sweat on his body glistened, and his tender flesh seemed to sag slightly as sweat seeped out.

Qiu Zhiruo released the Prince’s wrists and propped himself up on one arm. His face was incredibly wet, as if he had been through a heavy rain; his eyelashes were particularly damp. He couldn’t even keep his eyes open.

Qiu Zhiruo looked after the Prince carefully, wiping away all the sweat. He ordered the servants to bring hot water. When the maids offered to help, he shook his head. “I will do it.”

“All of you, leave.”

Once the servants withdrew, a faint smile touched Qiu Zhiruo’s lips. His eyes reflected the Prince’s exquisite, peach-blossom face. For a moment, he was lost in it. He glanced down at the reaction below, but ignored it, focusing instead on tidying the Prince’s clothes and combing his long hair.

Yu Qing was forced to lie in Qiu Zhiruo’s lap. He struggled to open his eyes to hit the man, but he truly had no strength. Fine. He would let Qiu Zhiruo have his way. He had been cleaned thoroughly; aside from the overly flushed skin and the tear-stained eyes, everything looked normal.

“Us wants to sleep,” Yu Qing said, refusing to acknowledge the man. He rolled over, facing his backside toward Qiu Zhiruo, his raspy, soft voice cold.

Qiu Zhiruo leaned down and kissed his cheek. The Prince’s shoulder hitched as he glared fiercely, warning the man not to go too far.

“Sleep well, Your Highness,” Qiu Zhiruo said, stroking his hair. The Prince’s hair was incredibly soft, like silk, making it hard to let go. “I will come see you again soon.”

The person on the bed only hummed, buried his head under the covers, and refused to respond.

…

Later, Qiu Zhiruo made use of the study. A subordinate came to report. He listened to the gathered information while looking at the parchment on the desk—it was a record of the Prince’s recent schedule. His face was calm, his emotions unreadable.

He quietly set the parchment on fire. The flames slowly consumed the paper, the sparks flying as the light flickered against his cold, noble face.

“Hua Jingshi, Xie Xuanying, and perhaps Cang He?” Qiu Zhiruo propped up his head and spoke calmly. “His Highness is still young and far too simple; he is easily deceived. Others are one thing, but Cang He, as the Prince’s guard, actually harbors such malicious intent. His crime is punishable by death.”

Ever since he had started paying attention to Yu Qing, he had secretly sent people to protect him. Normally, he wouldn’t interfere with the Prince’s daily schedule; he only wanted to ensure his safety. But he had only looked away for a short while, and so many stray dogs had come sniffing around. Their “eating manners” were truly unsightly.

“My Lord, do we need to…” The subordinate made a throat-slitting gesture, his eyes sharp. “I heard that hostage is very much in the Prince’s favor and is quite calculating…”

“It hasn’t come to that. These… crooked melons and split dates…” Qiu Zhiruo sneered, clearly looking down on his competitors.

“If I cannot manage the Crown Prince, can I not manage the men around him?”