The Young Marquis is Ruining the Court! - Chapter 10

It was quite embarrassing, Chi Zhou couldn’t help but think.

Being so terrified by a dog that he slumped to the ground nearly in tears… No matter how he looked at it, that was the kind of thing that only happened to children. Chi Zhou had lived for so many years and never imagined he could be scared like this.

He sat against the wall for a while and wiped his eyes, rubbing away the hazy mist until his vision cleared, then he opened his eyes.

The first thing he saw was the little black puppy crouching on the ground, whimpering piteously with its tail tucked. It looked like a completely harmless little thing, and Chi Zhou couldn’t help but find the situation a bit funny.

His lips quirked into a faint smile, and his gaze shifted upward, finally finding the composure to look at Xie Jiu’s face.

This kid was still breathtakingly beautiful. The night was deep, and starlight fell into the alley, casting half of his face into shadow. Chi Zhou could clearly see the man’s tightly pressed lips and the slight furrow of his brow, he could even vaguely detect a hint of regret on that face.

Xie Jiu’s hands were clenched at his sides, his feet were planted in a staggered stance, and his body was leaning slightly forward. He looked as if he wanted to help Chi Zhou up but was frozen by some unknown hesitation, resulting in a very awkward posture.

Seeing this, Chi Zhou couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh. He stretched out his arm and said, in a tone that was gentle yet left no room for argument, “Pull me up, my legs have no strength.”

Even his show of weakness sounded like an order. Chi Zhou knew he was projecting some of his frustration onto Xie Jiu. If this guy hadn’t brought a dog out in the middle of the night, would he have been scared like this?

He knew he was being unreasonable, but he really didn’t feel like being reasonable. At least, if it had been anyone else, he might have been scared, but he certainly wouldn’t have lost all his strength and collapsed the moment he recognized their face.

It was a kind of trust and relaxation he couldn’t quite explain. Chi Zhou didn’t want to overthink it, he just knew he had completely lost face this time.

His arm hung in the air for a few seconds. Chi Zhou impatiently wiggled his fingers to urge him. A faint breeze slipped through his fingers, and before he could prompt again, the person standing before him finally moved.

Xie Jiu leaned down, his palm sliding over Chi Zhou’s hand to grip it firmly. With one hand pulling and the other reaching forward to support Chi Zhou’s lower back, he hoisted him from the ground.

The posture was strange, almost like an embrace. Because of gravity, the moment Chi Zhou stood up, his nose nearly brushed against the crook of Xie Jiu’s neck. He felt a bit awkward and tried to pull his hand away, but it didn’t budge.

Just as he was about to ask to be let go, Xie Jiu lowered his head, almost burying his face in Chi Zhou’s neck, and muttered, “I’m sorry.”

His voice was incredibly heavy, as if he were the one who had suffered a great grievance. Most of Chi Zhou’s irritation dissipated at that tone. After a long silence, he finally gave in and let out a soft sigh.

“You need to use a leash when walking a dog, Jiu Jiu.” He raised a hand to pat Xie Jiu’s back, ironically comforting the perpetrator.

“I won’t keep it anymore,” Xie Jiu said. Perhaps out of spite, he glanced down at the black dog. The little creature immediately crouched lower, its whimpers becoming even softer.

Chi Zhou laughed, pushing against the man’s shoulder to finally peel him away. He tilted his head to look at Xie Jiu’s expression. The awkwardness was gone, and he teased, “Giving up on it so easily, Jiu Jiu? I didn’t realize you were that kind of person.”

Xie Jiu’s gaze shifted from the puppy to him, giving him a sharp look. He didn’t say a word, but his eyes were cursing quite colorfully.

Chi Zhou instantly understood. If anyone was guilty of “giving up easily,” the original owner was the prime suspect.

Chi Zhou rubbed his nose, his gaze wandering. He coughed twice and looked toward the door Xie Jiu had come out of. “What are you doing here?”

Xie Jiu said irritably, “A friend said his dog had a litter and asked if I wanted to raise one.”

“And so you came?” Chi Zhou asked.

Xie Jiu went silent for two seconds before nodding, but then added, “Your house is in this direction.”

Chi Zhou didn’t follow. “What?”

Xie Jiu pressed his lips together and said nothing for a long while.

Chi Zhou had only been confused for a split second. Realization soon dawned on him, and a smile instinctively touched the corners of his eyes. Seeing the kid keeping his mouth shut, he couldn’t resist teasing him.

He leaned in, tilting his head to look up into Xie Jiu’s eyes. “Hmm? My house is this way, and then?”

They were so close, and the night was so beautiful, that Chi Zhou could clearly see a faint blush creeping onto the tips of Xie Jiu’s ears. For someone who looked so cold, he was surprisingly bad at handling teasing, his ears turned red at just a few words. He was incredibly cute.

Chi Zhou gave a mental tsk. The original owner really ate well.

Thinking of this, he felt a strange pang of bitterness and lost interest in teasing. Just as he was about to straighten up, the person in front of him finally found his focus.

Xie Jiu looked down, his narrow phoenix eyes staring into Chi Zhou’s. His dark pupils seemed capable of swallowing all light. His voice was low, still carrying that cold, distant tone, but the words he spoke were soft, filled with an unspeakable depth of feeling.

“You haven’t looked for me for many days. I wanted to see you, so I came.”

“Chi Zhou, have you been having insomnia lately?” Xie Jiu asked softly. The evening breeze blew past them, catching a few strands of their hair, tangling them together before letting them go. Unknown insects chirped nearby, and Chi Zhou suddenly felt his heart skip a beat.

He stared at Xie Jiu for a long time before looking down with a helpless smile.

“So?” he said. “Jiu Jiu, did you come here to sleep with me?”

The prepared bundle was placed back in the room, and the little black puppy was shut in the study.

Seeing the poor little thing scratching at the door, unwilling to leave, Chi Zhou tried to speak up for it. But before he could utter a word, Xie Jiu, as if he had eyes in the back of his head, said coldly, “Either it goes to the study, or I throw it back. I won’t have it in the same room as you.”

Chi Zhou immediately shut his mouth. If the puppy was abandoned right after being picked up, he was worried his Jiu Jiu wouldn’t have any friends left.

After Xie Jiu stepped out, Chi Zhou sat on the bed alone, lost in a brief moment of reflection. He wasn’t sure if bringing the man back to the Marquis Mansion was a wise decision.

However, the mansion was indeed the closest option. Rather than finding an inn in the middle of the night to check in with Xie Jiu, returning to his own bedroom felt safer. As for being discovered…

If it was Ming Xi, it didn’t matter, he could control that little miser with his wages. As for others, He Lingzhen and Chi Tong likely wouldn’t come to his courtyard without a reason.

Chi Zhou thought quite logically, forgetting to consider why he had even included “sleeping with Xie Jiu” as an option. The night on the Glass Moon was due to circumstances, but what about today? Just because Xie Jiu honestly said he missed him, he had lost his head and brought the man back to his room?

But the one he missed wasn’t really him, right? It was the original owner. He couldn’t just inherit the original owner’s body and his lover too, could he? Where was the morality? Where was the line?

The bed was covered in soft cotton, but Chi Zhou felt increasingly as if he were sitting on needles. When he couldn’t bear to think further, he stood up abruptly, intending to revoke his decision and be an unreliable jerk before anything happened.

But he had only taken two steps when the door was pushed open from the outside.

Xie Jiu crossed the threshold. Seeing him standing up from the bed, he hesitated, unsure whether to enter. He thought for a moment and asked, “Should I step out?”

Chi Zhou: “What?”

Xie Jiu: “Are you going to undress in front of me?”

This wasn’t a pleasure boat. Chi Zhou couldn’t possibly sleep fully dressed in his own home.

Chi Zhou snapped out of it, his mouth moving faster than his brain. “Maybe we should forget about this?”

Xie Jiu frowned. He didn’t answer, but instead turned back to close the door, treating his own question about stepping out like it was nothing. Then he asked, “Why?”

A single candle burned on the table. With the door and windows closed, it was the only source of light. Xie Jiu’s pace was steady as he slowly approached, his gaze never leaving Chi Zhou.

Chi Zhou felt uncomfortable under that stare and instinctively took a step back. Xie Jiu stopped where he was, watching him silently.

“Chi Zhou, you always go back on your word,” he said softly.

He only said that one sentence, without hysteria or prying, yet Chi Zhou didn’t even have the courage to argue. He looked at Xie Jiu through the candlelight. The flickering shadows seemed dissatisfied with the distance between them, insisting that their silhouettes merge.

For a moment, Chi Zhou thought, “Fine, let it be.” He was the one who couldn’t resist the temptation and invited the man home. There was no point in backing out at the last second. But the words stayed stuck in his throat, held back by an invisible thread.

In the midst of this stalemate, Xie Jiu took a step back. He settled himself on the small couch by the window, looking up at Chi Zhou quietly, making his stance clear. His eyes were hidden in the darkness, so Chi Zhou didn’t know if they held resentment.

However, Chi Zhou really couldn’t get past the psychological barrier of having Xie Jiu lie in the same bed as him. This wasn’t a stranger, this was the original owner’s lover. Xie Jiu and this body had likely been intimate many times, and Chi Zhou couldn’t sleep beside him peacefully. He had to admit that Xie Jiu’s retreat made him feel relieved.

Chi Zhou apologized to Xie Jiu in his heart and stepped forward to blow out the candle. Faint starlight filtered through the window paper, making their silhouettes blurry. Chi Zhou stepped back to the bed and began to undress. When he got down to his inner robe, he wanted to look back but felt it would be too petty, as if he were guarding against the man. So he didn’t. Only when he was down to his undergarments did he get into bed and pull up the covers.

Xie Jiu sat by the window. Chi Zhou saw that his head was turned toward the window, though he couldn’t tell if he was looking at something or simply looking away. Chi Zhou paused, feeling that he might be being too paranoid. Xie Jiu was essentially a gentleman. At least, far more decent than himself.

He stared at Xie Jiu’s silhouette for a long time. Finally, he couldn’t help but call out with a soft laugh, “Jiu Jiu, look back.”

Xie Jiu turned his head, looking back at him across the desk, the screen, and a long stretch of space. It was as if a great, uncrossable river sat between them.

Perhaps it was the alluring night, or perhaps it was because Xie Jiu’s actions made Chi Zhou feel safe, but he asked a question he thought he would never ask.

“Jiu Jiu, you said I always go back on my word. What have I lied to you about?”

Chi Zhou had always been cautious, believing that the more he said, the more mistakes he would make. Within his control, he tried to avoid people connected to the original owner. But when Xie Jiu said those words so calmly, he felt a rare urge to investigate. What had the original owner lied about, and could he make up for those lies?

Ultimately, he really liked this kid.

But upon hearing the question, Xie Jiu was silent for a long time before saying just two words: “Many things.”

“Hmm?”

The starlight was faint, and only a tiny bit reflected into the closed bedroom. Xie Jiu used that dim light to watch the silhouette on the bed, remaining silent. Chi Zhou waited a long time for a response, but was soon overcome by a familiar sense of drowsiness.

Thinking that this kid really was a natural cure for insomnia, Chi Zhou didn’t push it. Seeing that the man didn’t want to talk, he yawned and said, “Tell me when you’ve thought about it. I’ll make it all up to you. I’m going to sleep now. Goodnight, Jiu Jiu.”

Xie Jiu gave a soft “mm” and sat there for a long time. After a while, the sound of a stone hitting the ground came from outside, accompanied by a bird’s chirp. The puppy in the next room gave two small barks. Xie Jiu raised his hand, and silence returned outside the window.

He was supposed to have many things to do tonight. His desire to see Chi Zhou was real, as was the fact that he had waited all afternoon. But he wasn’t exactly like a dog, waiting at home for a master’s return to beg for a bit of affection. If he were more rational, he should turn and leave now, to meet his advisors, to see his contact in the Eastern Palace, to deploy the next step of his plan.

He had far too many things he had to do, each one hanging by a thread that held his life. But he didn’t move an inch. It was as if the thread was held by someone else, pulled so tight it could snap at any moment, leading to total ruin.

Xie Jiu walked over to Chi Zhou’s bedside, looking down at his sleeping face. This person actually looked quite unhealthy. His skin was too pale, his frame too thin. People said he frequented brothels, but in reality, he looked like a gust of wind could knock him over. Long periods without sleep and constant internal gloom meant no one could be healthy.

Yet he possessed an incredibly striking appearance, with affectionate peach blossom eyes, a straight, handsome nose, and thin, vibrant red lips. It was as if he were born to be a heartless person, making any act of infidelity seem normal.

Xie Jiu looked down, his gaze moving from Chi Zhou’s face to his slender neck. Chi Zhou had asked what he had lied about. Xie Jiu didn’t know how to answer.

What should he say? Should he say you promised to take care of me, to steal me out of the palace, but the next day you told Xie Mingjiang I was a worthless brat who deserved to be beaten to death? Should he say you saw me injured and were so distressed you didn’t know what to do, cursing the eunuchs while sneakily stealing medicine from the imperial infirmary to apply it gently, yet a while later, you claimed I was a thief who stole rare medicine meant for the Emperor, nearly causing the old Emperor to go without treatment and resulting in me being punished to kneel at the tombs for three months?

There were too many things, Chi Zhou. You go back on your word too often, and your words never match. So much so that I can’t tell when you disappear and when you return.

Xie Jiu leaned down, one hand resting on that slender neck, slowly tightening. Maybe I should just kill him, he suddenly thought. At least now, in this moment, he could be sure this was Chi Zhou. Maybe I should just kill him.

“Ngh…”

The pressure gradually increased, and the breath in his palm became shallow. Xie Jiu heard a pained moan from beneath him. He snapped out of it and instantly let go. Chi Zhou’s brows were furrowed and his face was flushed, as if he were about to wake up gasping for air.

Without thinking, Xie Jiu leaned down, his hand gripping Chi Zhou’s chin as he kissed him. The kiss wasn’t intense, it was cautious and restrained, slowly breathing air into him until a different kind of moan and struggle came from the body beneath him.

Xie Jiu finally pulled away, staring at those lips for a long time before leaning down to give them a peaceful, gentle peck.

Never mind. Forget it.

He pressed his cheek against Chi Zhou’s chest, listening quietly to the steady heartbeat. Then, like a child being stubborn, he whispered, “Brother, I know I was wrong. You can’t blame me.”

He had just waited too long and went a little crazy. That was normal, wasn’t it?

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