Your Majesty, Please Be Obedient - Chapter 4

Does Master like him when he is obedient and soft? If so, he would remain obedient and soft forever.

“Qiyan must trust Master. I promise that no matter what you do, I will never throw you away,” Pu Tingsong comforted him gently.

Jiang Qiyan wanted to cry again. When his Mother Empress passed away, he had held her hand and begged her not to leave him, but she had still poisoned herself. Later, his Father Emperor did not want him either. He was so small, yet his Father had cast him out of the palace.

He had grown smarter now. He did not beg his Father because he knew his Father disliked him just like everyone else, and begging was useless.

Master was different. He had originally planned to beg Master because Master was so kind that if he begged, perhaps he would not be cast out. He was willing to endure any punishment. But before he could even beg, Master had forgiven him and even turned around to comfort him while he cried uncontrollably.

Qiyan is good; it was the vase that was bad.

Qiyan was not good at all. Qiyan had caused Master so much trouble.

Jiang Qiyan stopped crying. With red and swollen eyes, he stood to the side and watched Master clean up the mess on the floor. He wanted to help but feared he would only get in the way, so he simply stood there awkwardly while rubbing his fingers together.

He looked like an obedient little rabbit. Pu Tingsong glanced at him and could not help but make that evaluation in his heart.

“Let me carry you to the stool to sit for a while. Does your foot not hurt from standing so long?” Pu Tingsong lifted him onto the chair with great pity. “Come to my room after your bath tonight. I will apply medicine to your poor little foot.”

“It does not hurt, Master.”

As soon as Jiang Qiyan looked up, he was startled by the dark intensity in Pu Tingsong’s eyes.

“Does Qiyan intend to refuse Master?”

Pu Tingsong’s low voice was no different than usual, yet a dark cloud seemed to press down on his brow. The voice suddenly felt heavy with pressure, as if signaling the arrival of some danger.

“No, that is not it,” Jiang Qiyan trembled. “I will come over tonight after I have finished washing.”

The dark cloud vanished. Pu Tingsong smiled and rubbed the boy’s head. “That is good. I will help you wash; I will make you smell a bit sweeter.”

“All right.” Jiang Qiyan wanted to say that he could wash himself, but Master seemed to particularly dislike being refused.

“The manor is too large, and not many people live here,” Pu Tingsong sighed. “I find it too empty, so I had the other courtyards locked up.”

Halfway through his sentence, Pu Tingsong looked at him. “You arrived in a hurry, and I have not prepared a room for you yet. You,” he paused, speaking with a touch of uncertainty and expectation, “if little Qiyan is willing to sleep with me, I would be very happy.”

“I am willing,” Jiang Qiyan blurted out, interrupting him quickly. “Master, do not be sad. Qiyan will sleep with Master every day from now on.”

Master’s father and mother had both passed away. Master must be very lonely living in such a large house all by himself. Since he had come here, he would work hard to make Master happy and keep him company.

Jiang Qiyan did not realize that because of Pu Tingsong’s strategic show of weakness, he had unknowingly developed a sense of belonging here and had even assigned himself a duty.

Everything is within expectations, Pu Tingsong thought, observing the subtle changes in the child.

Step by step, calculating every move, he would lead Jiang Qiyan into the gentle trap he had set until the boy could not extricate himself. When Jiang Qiyan ascended the throne, would this obedient little Emperor not be a better puppet than the current one?

Pu Tingsong showed a calculated flicker of joy. His downward-curving eyes immediately influenced Jiang Qiyan’s mood.

Master looks so beautiful when he smiles.

Jiang Qiyan could not help but curl his own lips into a smile. It turned out that simply sleeping with Master would make him happy. Master must have been lonely for a long time; just like him, Master must have desperately wanted someone to stay with him.

“What is little Qiyan thinking while looking at me?” Master’s face suddenly enlarged in his pupils. Jiang Qiyan stared blankly as Pu Tingsong leaned down close to him.

Pu Tingsong flicked the boy’s nose. “Why is your smile so cute?”

“Because I like seeing Master smile.” Jiang Qiyan lowered his head, his ears turning red with shyness.

“Do you truly like it that much?” Pu Tingsong leaned even closer, then flashed a wider smile than before. “Then should I smile more often in the future?”

Master’s eyelashes were very close, long, and perfectly curved. It seemed that if he moved just a bit closer, they would touch his own eyelids. Driven by a sudden impulse, Jiang Qiyan stood on his tiptoes. Not daring to be too bold, he lightly touched the tips of the eyelashes before ducking his head back down.

Would Master scold him?

Pu Tingsong merely reached out a finger and tapped the boy’s forehead. “Sneak-attacking your Master?”

It was Master who sneak-attacked me first!

Perhaps the sunlight outside the window was too warm, or perhaps the residual warmth from Pu Tingsong’s fingertip traveled through his forehead straight to his heart. Jiang Qiyan felt as if his vision blurred for a moment; his Master seemed to be made of light itself. The tiny specks of dust in the air became visible in the light, swirling around Pu Tingsong.

It was a very peaceful feeling, like a silhouette captured from an endless stream of ordinary years; soft, but not empty.

Yet he had just caused a great deal of trouble. The calm lake of his mind, stirred by falling rocks, became restless once more. The light in Jiang Qiyan’s eyes slowly faded. He whispered, “Master, I should not sit on the chair.”

He felt he should not be sitting there, and the thought made him sad.

Pu Tingsong’s thumb rested on the corner of the boy’s eye, rubbing the slight redness there. His tone remained warm. “Why?”

“I will stand for a while, or,” Jiang Qiyan wanted to bow his head, but with Master’s finger there, he suddenly could not bear to move. If he lowered his head, Master’s finger would leave.

“Or what?” Pu Tingsong prompted. “Or do you intend to kneel for a while so that your guilt might lessen a little?”

A long silence followed. Jiang Qiyan likely did not know what to do. Master had picked apart his thoughts one by one; he no longer knew what to say. It was as if Master could read his mind; whatever he thought could never escape Master’s eyes.

However long he remained silent, Pu Tingsong watched him for just as long, seemingly waiting for him to speak. After a long wait, he only saw the boy’s trembling lips part slightly as if to say something, only to press them tightly together again.

Since he would not speak, Pu Tingsong spoke for him. “Do you feel very sorry toward me?”

Yes, he felt very sorry. Tears welled up in Jiang Qiyan’s eyes again, brimming and ready to overflow. Master was the only person willing to be kind to him, yet he only brought Master trouble.

He had been terrified that Master would not want him anymore. But now, he whispered, “Master, send me away.”

He did not want to cause more trouble. “I can survive as a beggar.”

The child was almost too obedient. Pu Tingsong glanced toward the door and sighed. “To be a beggar in the depths of winter? Are you waiting for your Master to collect your corpse?”

Jiang Qiyan buried his head deep. You would not need to collect my corpse; the heavy snow would bury me.

In truth, he did not want to be a beggar. He had just decided that after Master sent him out of the manor, he would walk toward the river. Since no one wanted him anyway, it did not matter if he drowned.

As Jiang Qiyan lowered his head, Pu Tingsong’s handsome eyebrows furrowed. It seemed the little pet was thinking of seeking death on his own.

Pu Tingsong lifted him down from the chair. A dark shadow that was hard to suppress flickered in his eyes. “If you do not want to sit, then do not. Go outside and bring the cushion in.”

Fear followed him like a shadow, and Jiang Qiyan’s small body gave a violent shudder. He seemed to have touched a sore spot; Master’s gaze just now was terrifying.

Suddenly, his head was rubbed. Pu Tingsong’s gaze had returned to normal. “Bring it in. Since little Qiyan played with my work by soaking it in water, how can I not retaliate a little?”

Jiang Qiyan shuffled out, his heart feeling sour and complicated. When he returned with the small cushion, he saw that Pu Tingsong was no longer behind the desk but was instead kneeling behind a small low table.

“Come here,” Pu Tingsong said jokingly. “You are sentenced to kneel.”

Jiang Qiyan placed the cushion down next to Pu Tingsong and sat with his Master at the table. “Is the punishment for me or for Master?” he whispered.

“Punishment for both of us,” Pu Tingsong said, dipping his brush in ink and beginning to write. “Punishment for Master for not placing the vase properly and scaring little Qiyan. Master apologizes to little Qiyan. Will Qiyan forgive Master?”

“Yes.” It was not Master’s fault at all; he was the one who was careless. How could a Master be the one to apologize?

Jiang Qiyan wiped away his tears with the back of his hand, no longer able to suppress the sobs in his throat.

“I am also punishing you,” Pu Tingsong suddenly became serious. This caused Jiang Qiyan’s crying to stop as he looked over with fear. He knew it; Master was going to punish him for being stupid and reckless, for only causing trouble.

“I am punishing you, you little fool.”

Jiang Qiyan’s heart suddenly sank. He squeezed his fingers while trembling slightly.

“For not knowing how to protect yourself and almost getting cut by the porcelain shards.”

What kind of feeling was this? The heart that had sunk seemed to be cradled in someone’s palm. Pu Tingsong tapped the boy’s head, continuing his reprimand.

“Running away from home? Hmm?” Pu Tingsong’s gaze turned somewhat resentful. “Who was it that said they would stay with Master and go nowhere? Breaking a promise is not a good habit. Be careful, or Master might,” Jiang Qiyan looked at Pu Tingsong with watery eyes. Pu Tingsong suddenly gave a mysterious smile, “be careful, or Master might cry for you to see.”

Jiang Qiyan was amused by these words and let out a laugh, revealing his small, incomplete teeth. He looked quite adorable.

“Qiyan should learn to perform opera in the future since you are so good at changing faces,” Pu Tingsong said, rubbing the boy’s head with his left hand while continuing to write with his right. “Once I finish this, we can have dinner. It has been hard on you to stay with me a little longer.”

It was not hard at all; he should stay. Master should not have had to do these things in the first place.

“If you are tired, you are allowed to rest your head on my lap for a while.” Pu Tingsong sat upright, his legs crossed in a way that left a perfect curve for someone to lie down.

Jiang Qiyan hesitated. This was a rare chance for closeness. Usually, Master only touched him with his hands; the only other contact was when Master carried him. He did not want to miss the opportunity, yet he was still a little afraid.

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