The Loyal Dead Soldier Did Not Plan to Run with a Bun (Pregnant) - Chapter 7

Inside the Prince’s carriage, Wei San felt as though he were sitting on pins and needles, several times wanting to stand up and crouch in the corner of the carriage.

To sit in the same carriage as the Master and to sit side-by-side, shoulder-to-shoulder—Wei San felt as if his life were being shortened.

The carriage gradually left the city gate and headed toward the outskirts of the capital. Just as he was contemplating standing up to tuck himself into the corner, Wei Zheng who was sitting beside him with his head down, reading a travelogue did not even look up; he reached out a hand to press down on Wei San’s arm.

“Sit properly.”

“Master…”

Wei San was extremely distressed, his voice carrying a trace of pleading that even he himself had not noticed.

“Why? Are you unwilling to sit with this Prince?”

Wei Zheng finally put down the travelogue in his hand. He wore a smile at the corner of his mouth, his posture relaxed and gentle, but the tone of his voice was undeniably firm.

Wei San shook his head repeatedly: “This subordinate would not dare!”

How could he dare to be unwilling? It was just that his status was humble and lowly; how could he possibly have the merit to sit with the noble Master?

Wei Zheng seemed quite satisfied with this answer and said, “Then sit properly. Don’t make it look as if I have stinging thorns on my body that you are so desperate to avoid.”

Since the words had reached this point, Wei San could only sit honestly and upright, as stiff as a clay sculpture or a wooden carving, terrified of offending the Master in the slightest.

Wei Zheng watched him with amusement, feeling that this little dead soldier was stubborn to a fault, but this loyal and devoted demeanor was indeed quite cute.

The carriage swayed all the way, and the gate of the Prince’s estate gradually came into view. Before the carriage stopped, Wei Zheng reached out and took hold of the dead soldier’s right hand, which was covered in thick calluses. The latter was startled, his instinct urging him to pull his hand away.

Wei Zheng interlaced his fingers with Wei San’s, gripped them forcefully, and then dragged his hand onto his own thigh.

“Ma-Master…”

Wei San’s entire body went numb; he had no idea how to react.

Wei Zheng, however, acted as if nothing were the matter. While playing with his fingers, he said in a calm tone: “Wait a moment and act realistically. Aunt Mei is not easy to fool; if she senses anything, it will be difficult to handle.”

The mere thought of continuing to act gave Wei San a headache; he was simply not good at this.

Wei Zheng seemed to see his difficulty and suggested, seven parts earnest and three parts teasing: “Or you could continue to pretend to faint. I wouldn’t mind carrying you one more time.”

Mentioning “carrying,” Wei Zheng could not help but recall the feel of holding the dead soldier.

The dead soldier had practiced martial arts and handled weapons all year round; his waist was not as soft and supple as a woman’s, but rather hard, though it was surprisingly comfortable to hold in his arms.

He could not help but look at Wei San with some anticipation. “I think this is quite good; it saves trouble.”

In fact, he simply wanted to hold the little dead soldier again. However, the little dead soldier opened his eyes wide in terror, almost kneeling to him on the spot.

“This subordinate is lowly; how could I dare trouble the Master to carry me?”

Seeing that he was about to scare the person out of his wits, Wei Zheng could only put the thought aside with regret and soothe him gently: “I was just joking; you’ve actually taken it seriously.”

Wei San, who had been tensed up, slowly relaxed, only feeling that the joke was not funny in the slightest.

The carriage stopped in front of the estate, and the female official called out from outside: “Your Highness, the Prince’s estate has arrived.”

“Let’s go. Be careful later.”

Wei Zheng finally released his hand and rose to straighten his robes.

Wei San replied dully, pulling his hand back into his sleeve and curling his fingers, feeling as if the warm, interlaced tactile sensation still lingered.

Outside the carriage, the female official urged them once more. Before Wei Zheng lifted the door curtain to exit, he suddenly reached out and pulled him into his embrace.

Wei San knew this was when the act began, but he could not help but shrink back slightly.

The distance between them was too close, separated by only a few layers of thin clothing, so close that he seemed to be able to feel the rhythm of the heart of the person behind him.

Wei San was not short, but being encircled in the arms of Wei Zheng who was half a head taller—made him seem a size smaller, his nose filled with the clear, domineering woody scent of pine.

His earlobes turned red, feeling that the sacrifice the Master was making for the sake of the act was truly too great.

The person in his arms was uncharacteristically obedient; where was the fierce drive of the person who would draw a sword at the slightest touch or teasing word from before?

Wei Zheng lowered his eyelids, staring at the earlobe half-hidden in the dead soldier’s hair, his smile deepening.

Others would bare their fangs if touched even once, yet he had no defenses against his own Master. Being so easy to deceive, would he only look up with pathetic, teary eyes and beg him to be gentle if he were ever teased to tears in the future?

Wei Zheng’s heart itched, and he wished he could clench the dead soldier in his palm and knead him well. It was a pity the situation did not permit it. While regretting it, he thought: Since I have lured him to my side, am I afraid I won’t find the opportunity?

He suppressed his inner desires and pinched the tip of the dead soldier’s little finger. The latter tilted his head and glanced sideways, his alluring peach-blossom eyes filled with confusion and a trace of undetectable admiration.

He cleared his throat and bluffed: “You are too well-behaved; you don’t look like a scholar who has been snatched at all. You must resist.”

The dead soldier nodded with understanding: “This subordinate understands.”

Thus, when the carriage curtain was pulled open, the female official standing at the front, and the maids and guards waiting on both sides, saw the scholar in disarray. His mouth was tied with a dark hair ribbon, and he was being held and teased by their Master. He could not escape, could not shout, and could only stare in shame and rage with his beautiful eyes, struggling incessantly—looking truly pitiful.

Wei Zheng pinched his cheek, smiling dotingly: “Look, my beauty is impatient.”

With his mouth covered, the scholar could only emit muffled sounds, his eyes so fierce he looked ready to eat someone; no doubt what he was saying wouldn’t be anything pleasant.

The female official took a sharp breath, her vision blurring.

This was… simply too absurd!

Wei San struggled all the way from the front gate of the Prince’s estate to the inner courtyard. Fortunately, he had practiced martial arts since childhood and had excellent stamina, otherwise, he would likely have been exhausted by this ordeal.

Regarding the matter of where to house the snatched male concubine, Wei Zheng overruled all objections mainly the objections of the female official—and arranged for him to stay in the side hall of his own bedchamber, under the pretext of wanting to “favor the beauty” daily.

The female official tried to persuade him several times, but she was ignored by the stubborn and unreasonable Virtuous Prince without exception.

The Virtuous Prince threw the bound scholar into the side hall and turned to the maids and guards behind him: “All of you, withdraw. I am going to have a long talk with my beauty. Unless I summon you, do not come over; do not disturb my fun. Did you hear me?”

The group of maids and guards agreed and nodded, signaling they understood.

After giving his orders to the servants, he happily closed the door, completely isolating the servants’ prying and curious gazes.

With his back to the door, Wei Zheng exhaled a mouthful of turbid air, putting away the smile that made him look like a simpleton.

“Master.”

Wei San freed himself of all his bonds and walked up to him, just as he was about to kneel to salute, he was pinched on the shoulder.

“Don’t go kneeling all the time; it hurts my eyes to look at.”

This was the thing he liked least about his little dead soldier; he was always kneeling.

Wei San wanted to say that this was the rule—how could rules be broken? But he didn’t dare disobey the Master’s order. Caught in a dilemma for a long time, he eventually leaned toward obeying the Master’s words.

With no outsiders around, Wei Zheng didn’t need to act the fool anymore. He sat on a chair, relaxed his body, and poured himself a cup of tea.

Wei San stood stiffly in front of him, not knowing what he should do.

Wei Zheng drank his tea while counting how many times he had secretly glanced at the corner of the wall.

Neither of them spoke, and the atmosphere in the room was eerily quiet.

The longer Wei San stood, the more uncomfortable he felt, wanting several times to ask the Master for permission to crouch in the corner.

He truly wasn’t accustomed to appearing in public in such an open manner.

Watching the dead soldier becoming so uncomfortable he was about to crouch down and shrink away, Wei Zheng waved his hand at him kindly: “Alright, when there are no outsiders, feel free to do whatever makes you comfortable; you don’t need to force yourself too much.”

Wei San’s eyes instantly brightened, and the look he cast on Wei Zheng was full of admiration and joy. He still couldn’t break the habit trained into him since he was small; he fell to one knee with a thwack and knocked his head: “Many thanks for the Master’s consideration!”

Wei Zheng, who had just reminded him not to kneel, was speechless: “…”

He reached out to help Wei San up, his expression one of a smile that wasn’t quite a smile: “If you don’t break this habit of kneeling, I’ll have to personally help you break it.”

As for how he would help, that would be up to him to decide.

Wei Zheng scanned him with some anticipation, already thinking of several ways to correct his habits.

The dead soldier was oblivious, assuming only that the Master was kind-hearted and considerate of his subordinates.

Having received the Master’s permission, Wei San crouched in the corner of the wall without any mental burden the darkest one, away from the light.

Returning to his comfort zone, the pores on the dead soldier’s entire body relaxed comfortably. He did not know that, wearing pale green scholar’s robes and looking so scholarly, crouching in the corner was incredibly conspicuous. Even if the light in the corner was dim, his squeezing into it made him appear to be glowing and eye-catching.

Wei Zheng malicious-heartedly did not remind him, waiting to see when he would realize it.

It was a pity that Wei Zheng didn’t get to see that scene, because shortly after, the Head Eunuch of the Imperial Palace, Zhao Fu, came knocking at the door.

On the way to the imperial study, Zhao Fu held his hand, his old face covered in wrinkles and full of worry.

“Your Highness, the Virtuous Prince, His Majesty has heard that you committed an offense today and is not in the best of moods. When you go in later, do not lose your temper; whatever His Majesty scolds you for, just go along with it.”

Wei Zheng had already anticipated that the old Emperor would seek him out. No matter how annoyed he was inside, he could not show it on the surface. He shrugged dismissively: “Father likes me the most; Father will not be angry with me. Zhao Fu, do not say things that provoke the relationship between me and Father.”

The Virtuous Prince maintained an indifferent attitude, while Zhao Fu, wearing the label of a provoker for no reason, felt choked and speechless.

He sighed inwardly, not angry at the Virtuous Prince, but simply feeling that it was a pity.

In his youth, the Virtuous Prince was the most intelligent and kind-hearted among all the princes; His Majesty valued him the most, and originally, even that position of Crown Prince was reserved for him. If he hadn’t witnessed the tragic death of Consort Chen and suffered a major illness from the shock, how could he have ended up with this foolish and tyrannical personality today?

The two walked one after the other to the entrance of the imperial study, and they bumped into someone head-on.

It was the current Crown Prince, Wei Heng.