The Young Marquis is Ruining the Court! - Chapter 5

Chi Zhou was twenty-six years old and had always been a law-abiding citizen. Born and raised under the red flag of modern society, he was as “upright and ideological” as they came.

This kind of “lecherous rogue” behavior was something he had never done, in fact, he’d never even considered it.

Yet, in this alien world, on a pleasure boat drifting along the river as if disconnected from the rest of reality, he felt zero psychological burden doing it to a youth he’d just met.

The fleeting, soft sensation seemed to linger on his fingertips, carrying a warmth that wasn’t his own, but belonged to a beautiful young man who was rapidly turning the color of a cooked shrimp.

Xie Jiu’s features were actually quite sharp—especially those phoenix eyes. When he stared at someone without smiling, he often looked as though he were looking at a corpse.

But the more a “big cat” acts fierce, the more it makes one’s hands itch. You can’t help but want to catch it, knead it, and bury your face in its belly for a sniff, only letting go when it finally loses its temper and takes a swipe at you.

However, since this was technically their first meeting, Chi Zhou restrained himself slightly despite his inner urge to keep teasing.

He retreated to the table and picked up the azure teacup again. He took a shallow sip of the emerald liquid, but his eyes never fully left the man on the bed.

The cat paws… oh, right, Xie Jiu’s hands. He had pulled them out from under the quilt. Initially, they had been resting leisurely on the daybed like a predator waiting for its prey to take the bait.

But at some point, he had involuntarily gripped the bedsheets. His knuckles were white from the force.

Because he was gripping so tightly, Chi Zhou couldn’t find that tiny black mole on his middle finger anymore.

A bit of a pity, the rogue sighed internally.

The boat swayed, and the tea nearly slopped over the rim. Chi Zhou quickly took a large gulp to keep the surface tension in check.

When he swallowed and looked up again, Xie Jiu had released his grip on the sheets. His chest was heaving, and his eyes were squeezed shut as if he were practicing extreme mental endurance.

Chi Zhou felt a delayed surge of fear.

No way. Did I push the teasing too far?

The “Young Marquis” glanced at the door, calculating the odds of running into the Crown Prince or the manager if he left now, and whether he could find another empty cabin to hide in until the next pier.

Before he could decide whether to grease his heels and bolt, he heard Xie Jiu let out a soft exhale and open his eyes.

“What did you call me?” Xie Jiu asked.

Chi Zhou blinked, realizing the boy was referring to his earlier joke. He hesitated, then replied tentatively, “Xie Jiu?”

Xie Jiu pressed on, dissatisfied: “What did you think my name was just now?”

Well, that’s hard to say.

Xie Mao-Mao (Kitty).

If he said that out loud, he’d probably get punched. Chi Zhou’s self-preservation instincts kicked in, and he wisely stayed silent.

Xie Jiu got up from the bed. Just as Chi Zhou had approached him earlier, he now walked to the table. The red had faded from his ears. He leaned over the table with one hand, staring directly into Chi Zhou’s eyes: “Chi Zhou, what did you think my name was?”

Chi Zhou didn’t understand how a casual joke had led to such dire consequences, nor why this kid was so obsessed with the answer.

The boy seemed genuinely ticked off—he didn’t even call him “Marquis,” but used his full name.

Now that the roles were reversed and Chi Zhou was the one looking up, he realized just how aggressive his own movements must have been.

After a long silence, Chi Zhou spoke, not daring to say what was actually on his mind. Instead, he said: “Xie Jiu-jiu.”

Xie Jiu was silenced instantly. The coldness in his eyes vanished, replaced by a dazed stare.

Chi Zhou pushed through with his nonsense: “You know, like the ‘jiu-jiu’ sound a little bird makes. You’re just too cute; I couldn’t help using a nickname. Don’t be mad.”

The coaxing came naturally to him. He was about to keep going: “If you don’t like it, next time I’ll”

“Shut up,” Xie Jiu interrupted fiercely. He stepped back with a deflated air and grabbed a teacup from the table, draining it in one go.

“Are you actually tired or not?” he asked, putting the cup down.

Chi Zhou’s mind was still stuck on the “bird” nickname. Hearing this abrupt shift, he really wanted to drag Xie Jiu back to the modern world for a personality assessment.

What is up with this kid? Every sentence is a brand new topic. No transitions, no flow—who could possibly keep up with his train of thought?

But given that the feeling of being “cornered” by the youth just now hadn’t fully dissipated, Chi Zhou only hesitated for two seconds before nodding honestly. “I’m tired. But…”

“But what?” Xie Jiu knit his brows, cutting him off. “Do you still want to go find someone else to sleep with?”

Chi Zhou: “…?”

Being interrupted for the third time in a row almost made Chi Zhou lose his cool. For a split second, he wanted to agree just to see the reaction.

But then Xie Jiu turned his head toward the window and said softly, “Didn’t you say I was cute? Are you really so unwilling to even sleep in my room?”

Chi Zhou: “…”

His anger vanished instantly. This kid is talented, Chi Zhou thought. He should be a firefighter.

He patiently explained, “I’m a bit dizzy and I have to get off the boat soon. I’m afraid if I fall asleep, I’ll miss the time. It’s not… it’s not that I’m unwilling to sleep here.”

Xie Jiu turned back and studied him for a few seconds, trying to determine if he was lying.

Just as Chi Zhou was wondering if he should fake a dizzy spell, Xie Jiu spoke: “The last pier has already passed. This boat won’t dock until the Hour of the Pig (9-11 PM). Where exactly were you planning to swim back to?”

Chi Zhou froze, his eyes widening in disbelief.

He had left the estate around 2 PM. Between the wandering, the bookstores, and the tree-planting on the bank, it was only about 4 PM now.

Docking at 10 PM meant he had to wait at least five or six hours.

The joke was, he hadn’t slept a total of five hours in the last three days combined.

Chi Zhou’s expression went cold. It wasn’t aimed at anyone; he was just genuinely angry. He had this habit in the modern world, when he got upset, his face turned icy, often scaring the interns in his office into silence.

But Xie Jiu wasn’t afraid of him at all. In fact, he let out a soft laugh and pulled out a stool to sit down. He picked up a book from the side of the bed. “Go to sleep. Have you been having insomnia again these past few days?”

His tone was certain, as if he lived in Chi Zhou’s bedroom and had seen it for himself.

Chi Zhou’s surprise lasted only a second before he remembered the original host’s relationship with this person. It made sense.

“Yeah,” he admitted honestly. “Nightmares. I can’t sleep.”

Xie Jiu’s hand stalled slightly while turning a page. When he spoke again, he didn’t look up, but his voice was lower: “Go to sleep. I won’t get on the bed and crowd you.”

Chi Zhou still hesitated. He wasn’t in the habit of sleeping in front of strangers, and he didn’t know if he could even drift off here.

But he was truly exhausted. If he forced himself to stay awake for another five hours, he might drop dead of a heart attack before Xie Mingjing even got the chance to feed him to the dogs.

Sensing his hesitation, Xie Jiu looked up, his voice turning cold again: “You think I’m in the way? Do you really want to go find someone else to sleep with?”

Chi Zhou: “…”

I am being framed, Chi Zhou wanted to scream. He couldn’t understand what kind of charm that useless, profligate original host had to turn a beautiful, noble “cat” like Xie Jiu into a jealous spouse. Every time Chi Zhou hesitated, the boy acted like he was being cheated on.

Chi Zhou sighed softly and walked to the bed. As he passed Xie Jiu, his hand twitched, he couldn’t help it. He reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair. “No one else is as good-looking as you. Why are you so jealous?”

Xie Jiu was stunned by the touch and didn’t say a word, even after Chi Zhou had taken off his outer robe and lain down.

Chi Zhou found it funny, but he didn’t dare laugh for fear of triggering another icy retort. He merely muttered under his breath: “Such ‘legal wife’ energy…”

He thought he had whispered it, but Xie Jiu heard him.

Xie Jiu wanted to snap back, but then he changed his mind and stayed silent. A faint pink dust spread over the tips of his ears.

The evening breeze was cool. Xie Jiu sat at the table for a long time without turning a single page. Only when he heard the person on the bed drift into a steady, slow breathing pattern did he set the book face-down, lean over, and close the window. The room became so quiet you could hear a pin drop.

The mark on Chi Zhou’s face hadn’t even bled, but Xie Jiu had found it an eyesore from the moment he saw it.

The water in the basin was cold. Xie Jiu didn’t call for a servant; he stood up and carried the basin out himself.

As soon as he opened the door, a guard in black bowed respectfully: “Master.”

“Bring a basin of warm water,” Xie Jiu whispered.

The guard’s mind flashed through several inappropriate scenarios. His hand trembled as he took the basin, and he lowered his head further, retreating quickly.

Xie Jiu frowned. He didn’t understand how his guard could make such a clumsy mistake. But he didn’t want to waste time scolding him. Afraid that opening and closing the door too much would wake the sleeper, he waited outside in the hallway.

A door at the end of the hall opened, and someone stepped out.

Xie Jiu looked up to see Xie Mingjiang stride over the threshold. Beside him was a youth in pink, looking disheveled but submissively tidying the Prince’s collar.

Xie Jiu paused, a flash of confusion in his eyes. He didn’t quite understand the scene, but he stepped forward as they approached: “Imperial Brother.”

Xie Mingjiang smiled and waved his hand. The entertainer beside him quickly scurried around the corner.

“I thought I heard your voice. Little Sixth, don’t you usually detest these places of ‘wind and moon’? Why are you here joining the fun?”

Xie Mingjiang looked down at Xie Jiu’s inner robes. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed. The Prince tried to peek into the room, but Xie Jiu—Xie Mingjing—blocked the door completely.

Xie Mingjiang’s smile thinned. Just as he was about to get angry, he heard Xie Mingjing say in a very low voice: “The Marquis likes it.”

The tone of restraint, indignation, and resignation… Xie Mingjiang hadn’t heard it in years. For a second, the man before him seemed to revert to that scrawny little kid in the Imperial Study who used to pick up the leftover ink sticks they threw away.

He was so thin and small back then, looking less like a prince and more like a little slave.

Xie Mingjiang’s annoyance at being slighted vanished. He laughed heartily and clapped his brother on the shoulder. “I almost forgot! You’re getting married next month. It’s only right you learn the preferences of your future husband.”

Xie Mingjing bit his lip and looked down, saying nothing, looking utterly humiliated.

The more he acted like this, the more satisfied Xie Mingjiang felt. It was a victory.

Xie Mingjiang withdrew his hand. “Fine, I won’t disturb you. But—” He paused, smiling meaningfully. “Be careful. Little Zhou is on board, too. If he saw you…”

He trailed off, looked at the door blocked by Xie Mingjing, and laughed softly. The contempt in his voice was undisguised.

Xie Mingjing stood there, his hands clenched so hard his nails bit into his palms, as if struggling to keep from saying something treasonous.

Satisfied, Xie Mingjiang raised an eyebrow and walked away.

As soon as he disappeared down the stairs, Shadow Three arrived with the warm water. Xie Mingjing released his grip, checked the temperature with a dip of his finger, and went back inside without a word.

Shadow Three was terrified, fearing his master might do something irrational to the Marquis. But when he tried to follow, Xie Mingjing stopped and shot him a sharp, displeased look.

He didn’t make a sound, but the look was cold enough to make Shadow Three drop his head and retreat instantly.

Xie Mingjing was about to go further into the room when he paused. He looked back at the corner where the other two had disappeared.

“Investigate that,” he commanded.

There shouldn’t be anyone selling their bodies on the Glazed Moon. What was with Xie Mingjiang’s disheveled appearance?

Shadow Three obeyed in a low voice. The door opened and shut. Shadow Three swallowed hard and silently said a prayer for the Young Marquis Chi.

Inside, the “prayed-for” Marquis was lying on the bed, his brow slightly furrowed as if caught in a nightmare.

Seeing this, Xie Mingjing cursed Xie Mingjiang’s ancestors for eighteen generations. All that useless talk had wasted time; Chi Zhou had been sleeping peacefully before he stepped out.

Xie Mingjing quickly wrung out a warm cloth. He knelt by the bed, naturally taking Chi Zhou’s right hand in his own. With the other hand, he gently dabbed the cloth over Chi Zhou’s face, tracing the scratch with extreme tenderness before resting his hand on Chi Zhou’s brow to massage it. He was so practiced at it, it was as if he had done it a thousand times.

After a long time, the sunset faded completely, and Chi Zhou’s breathing finally leveled out.

“What are you dreaming about this time?” Xie Mingjing murmured. “How can you be this scared?”

Chi Zhou seemed different from others. No matter how many days he went without sleep, it rarely showed on his face. Seeing him so lively and talkative, no one would guess he might have gone three days without closing his eyes—standing with one foot in the grave.

Xie Mingjing’s hand had moved from holding Chi Zhou’s to being held by him. The cloth, now cold, lay forgotten.

It was an awkward position. Sleeping Chi Zhou was quite selfish, taking up the entire small daybed and leaving no room at all.

Xie Mingjing stared at him for two seconds, half-wanting to bite his cheek.

But in the end, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He hiked up his robes and sat on the footstool, complaining in a tiny voice: “He calls you ‘Little Zhou’… I’ve never even called you that.”

Night fell, and the Xuanxing River reflected the starry sky.

Xie Mingjing sat by the bed. After watching Chi Zhou for a while, he couldn’t help himself—he leaned down and rubbed his cheek against Chi Zhou’s hand.

He knew it. This man loved ruffling hair and pinching faces like a common rogue.

The music and dancing on the boat resumed, making the ship feel like a fairy grotto in the mortal world.

Xie Mingjing’s voice was so soft it almost vanished the moment he spoke. Even he could barely hear himself.

“Brother, I was the legal spouse to begin with.”

“You personally begged for the Imperial decree.”

“Don’t you dare try to back out.”

The “big cat” rubbed against the palm of the sleeping man’s hand again, looking incredibly obedient.

Support The Young Marquis is Ruining the Court!