The Little Crybaby Continues to Court Death as a Cannon Fodder - Chapter 48

Chapter 48

During pregnancy, a person’s emotions become sensitive, and their skin follows suit. The same touch that once felt ordinary now feels entirely different.

In the past, Yu Qing would never have reacted so strongly to such a small gesture. Even Cang He was momentarily stunned when he realized the black fabric of his uniform over his chest was becoming soaked.

The bedchamber was filled with a dizzying, sweet fragrance and the uncontrollable, soft whimpers of the little Prince. He braced himself over the chaise longue, staring at the vivid pink area that had nearly doubled in size.

No part of the little Prince wasn’t delicate and small, yet this specific change gave him a ripened charm. Before, he was like a budding flower; now, he was like a luscious plum—one that would spray sweet nectar if squeezed just a little too hard.

Just as Cang prepared to tend to the other side, someone grabbed him by the collar from behind and hurled him to the floor.

Ignoring the pain, Cang He looked up to see Qiu Zhiruo’s face, cold and sinister. Such an expression rarely appeared on the “Elegant Prime Minister,” known for his gentlemanly grace. Yet there it was, a look of murderous intent. Qiu Zhiruo’s fists were clenched so tightly that the sound of his knuckles cracking echoed eerily in the silence. When he finally let go, his palms were indented with deep crescent marks from his nails.

The little Prince on the chaise was disheveled—in fact, he was almost entirely exposed. Seeing those glaring marks, Qiu Zhiruo felt as if a thousand needles were piercing his chest.

Using every ounce of his upbringing, Qiu Zhiruo spat: “Get out.”

He remained half-kneeling. He calmly adjusted his clothes, smoothing the wrinkles, and meticulously refastened his black mask. His voice was steady, undaunted. “I only follow the orders of one person, and that is His Royal Highness.”

“You—” Qiu Zhiruo turned sharply, not expecting a mere shadow guard to challenge him.

“Qiu Zhiruo, have you truly forgotten your place?” The little Prince sat up slowly, a strand of black hair clinging to the corner of his mouth. His cheeks were flushed, and his misty eyes were icy. “Us is curious—whose territory is the Eastern Palace? Every time the Prime Minister visits, he acts as if he is in his own home. One might think the Prime Minister is the master here.”

“Your Highness!” Qiu Zhiruo gasped.

“Get out!” Yu Qing snapped, throwing a soft pillow at him. “You cannot accompany us, yet you forbid others from doing so?”

Qiu Zhiruo felt wrongly accused. He had been drowning in official business lately, yet he never forgot to send gifts and greetings to keep the Prince from being bored.

“Your Highness, let me explain—”

“Go!” Yu Qing didn’t care. Qiu Zhiruo wasn’t there for him, yet he tried to control who was. No one was allowed to be that domineering. Not even Us is that bossy!

Qiu Zhiruo tried to grab the Prince’s arm but was violently shaken off. With his robes still loose, the Prince lifted his fierce face. “Do not touch my people again, and do not order them around. We hate it when others touch my things. Remember your status.”

“We slept together once; what does that even matter? Many people have slept with us. You’re the only one who takes yourself so seriously.”

Qiu Zhiruo froze, his handsome face looking wounded. Yu Qing’s voice remained cold: “Get out!”

…

The Father’s Joy

Qiu Zhiruo was not fragile, but Yu Qing’s cold words cut deep. However, he knew the Prince’s temperament; when angry, he spoke without filters or scruples. Besides, he blamed himself for being overconfident and losing his sense of proportion.

But being compared to mere male favorites was humiliating. Still, he knelt before the Prince, extending his long arms to carefully embrace the Prince’s belly.

Yu Qing’s brow twitched, but before he could push him away, a warm touch pressed against his stomach. Qiu Zhiruo leaned his face against the soft curve, listening intently with his ear against the thin layer of skin.

“Your Highness, has your appetite been poor lately?” he asked, his voice steady and filled with concern, showing no trace of the earlier insult.

Yu Qing pursed his lips. He was soft-hearted by nature, and Qiu Zhiruo’s humble, calm attitude made him wonder if he had been too harsh. “Mnh,” he muttered.

“Is the baby causing trouble?” Qiu Zhiruo’s calloused thumb gently rubbed the soft white skin. The rough texture made the Prince let out a soft moan, his back arching slightly before slumping back down.

“The baby is very good. Not like you—always disobedient and making us angry.”

The spoiled Prince’s voice carried a hint of coquettishness he didn’t even notice. Suddenly, as Qiu Zhiruo listened, the belly gave a small gurgle—a faint movement from within.

Qiu Zhiruo went rigid. After the shock came an inexpressible ecstasy. His face flushed with excitement, and veins popped on his hand as he tightly gripped Yu Qing’s hand. “Your Highness! Our child moved! The child kicked me!”

Yu Qing turned his head away slightly and whispered: “That was just Us’s stomach growling…”

But he felt a tiny spark of joy. When he first learned he was pregnant, he had been terrified, plagued by nightmares. He had resented Qiu Zhiruo for claiming he’d be the father and then disappearing for days. During pregnancy, he was sensitive and had cried secretly many times. He had wondered if he was a monster.

He wasn’t. His mother had told him he was the most precious treasure in the world.

Qiu Zhiruo acted as if he hadn’t heard the Prince’s correction, pressing his ear back to the soft belly. The cold, aloof aura was gone, replaced by the warmth of an expectant father.

“Your Highness, what would you like for a midnight snack? I will make it.”

“Us wants what Hua Jingshi makes.”

Lately, Yu Qing would touch nothing but Hua Jingshi’s cooking. Qiu Zhiruo nodded. “Master Hua’s skills are indeed excellent. However, Your Highness should not overeat at night—”

“Stop nagging!”

…

The Prince of the Western Regions

Yu Qing soon learned why Qiu Zhiruo was so busy. Envoys from the Western Regions were visiting. They were known for archery and horsemanship, and every year they came to compete. Last year, Qiu Zhiruo had narrowly defeated the Western Prince, and this year they had returned with a vengeance.

One afternoon, while Xie Xuanying was practicing swordplay to amuse him and Hua Jingshi was feeding him pastries, Qiu Zhiruo arrived. He naturally slid between the two, took over Hua Jingshi’s task, and pulled the Prince onto his lap to feed him personally.

Yu Qing, feeling lethargic, didn’t bother to scold him. He just glanced at the man’s well-defined hand. “Did you wash your hands?”

“Many times,” Qiu Zhiruo assured him.

The little Prince accepted a hibiscus cake. “How do you have time for us? Aren’t you busy with the Western envoys?”

“I missed Your Highness too much.”

Eunuch Lin, fanning nearby, smiled. “Your Highness might not know, but a Prince has come from the Western Regions. They say he is incredibly handsome. Many servants have gone to look, calling him ‘stunning.’ Of course, he cannot compare to Your Highness…”

The room suddenly went cold as three men—Xie Xuanying, Hua Jingshi, and Qiu Zhiruo—all froze, their eyes radiating a sharp, icy jealousy toward the eunuch.

“Handsome? How handsome?” Yu Qing yawned lazily in Qiu Zhiruo’s arms.

“Common grease and powder could never catch the eye of the Crown Prince.”

Yu Qing’s yawn stopped. He straightened his back, following the gazes of the other men toward the source of the voice.

Standing there was a tall, strikingly handsome man with a smile. He had sun-kissed skin, a high bridge to his nose, and piercing black eyes. He wore gold ornaments and a jade-encrusted sash—he was a vision of exotic beauty.