Chapter 118

Chapter 118

A string of lively musical notes, carrying a peculiar rhythm, echoed through the soundstage. The melody wasn’t complex, but it had an almost addictive rhythm—wherever it reached, hands, feet, or any part of the body couldn’t help but twitch along with the beat.

Among the young martial arts performers, some had already left the stage, while others formed an open-top rectangular frame on the platform.

Beside the rectangle, several people with red square headpieces appeared, forming a capital T.

At first, no one quite understood what was happening on stage. But as each combination entered the frame, completed a horizontal row, and then "disappeared," the audience gradually caught on.

Moreover, clearing multiple rows at once triggered cheeky praise lines, drawing grins of shared understanding from the crowd—many wished they could be the ones manipulating those blocks.

"Hey, hey, don’t place it like that—turn it upright!"

"Wrong! Now there’s a hole!"

"Ugh, what’s going on? Why not put that square block here?"

"Oh no, it dropped too fast—wrong spot!"

Every time the colored blocks in the frame were successfully cleared, the cheerful music lifted everyone’s spirits.

But whenever a block was misplaced or the desired pattern failed to appear, the audience grew tense.

As the blocks fell faster and faster, nerves frayed. Some spectators even stood up, shouting suggestions as if they could personally adjust the blocks themselves.

When the rapidly descending blocks finally piled up to the top of the frame, the dejected, loser’s tune sent their frustration spiking.

How could they suck this badly at something so simple?

"Do you think this game could be made with wood pieces? I can’t wait to try it!"

"Can you even make it? If you do, hawking it at stalls would be a hit!"

"Hahaha, I was just struggling to think of a gift for my son—he’d probably love this!"

From never having encountered music-accompanied games, the medieval people were utterly enchanted by these oddly shaped blocks. Watching the giant patterns shift and rotate to the music felt like witnessing the gods’ own pastime.

Hearing the excitement inside, those outside the venue could only gaze enviously, silently vowing to secure tickets for the next athletic games. Missing out on such an experience was truly a shame.

Oblivious to their envy, the audience inside eagerly awaited the next performance.

After various song-and-dance acts and acrobatic displays, the opening ceremony of the athletic games drew to a reluctant close. Kane and Ning Chan delivered brief closing remarks before stepping down from the raised stage.

After indulging in a round of food from the stalls, the two returned to the now-empty venue as dusk settled.

Compared to the bustling crowds of the day, the stadium was now silent and deserted. But if one listened closely, the chirping of insects in the wind and the sound of their footsteps on the platform could still be heard.

"Last time, I didn’t let you enjoy the fireworks properly. Now that there’s no one here, you can play as much as you want."

Just like before, Ning Chan set out several crates of large fireworks, along with an assortment of smaller ones—everything from spinning sparklers to towering aerial displays, delicate fairy sparklers to wild rocket-like bursts. The table was covered in pyrotechnic delights.

Perhaps every child harbors a dream of owning a fireworks stall during the New Year, sharing the joy with friends.

The moon hung faint tonight, and only a few scattered stars dotted the sky, leaving their surroundings in near darkness. Fortunately, Ning Chan held a small glowing taper, allowing Kane to see his expression.

Gazing into those eyes—brighter than fireflies—Kane couldn’t resist reaching out, cupping Ning Chan’s face, and pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. Between breaths, Kane murmured against his mouth, "Rather than playing with fireworks… I’d rather play with you."

At Kane’s words, Ning Chan couldn’t help but recall their reckless nights. Meanwhile, his neatly tailored robes began loosening without his notice. A warmth not his own seared up along his waist.

His lips, kissed to a vivid red, were finally released, only for the tender flesh on his neck to be claimed next. On his porcelain skin, rosy marks bloomed like peach blossoms.

Ning Chan's face flushed crimson as he tilted his head and glanced down, catching sight of the obvious bulge beneath his clothes before quickly averting his gaze.

"E-enough! Now’s not the time for... that!" Ning Chan hoarsely said, snuffing out the candle in his hand before pressing down on the unruly fingers exploring beneath his clothes. If this continued, he’d have to restrain this troublemaker with vines!

Still buried in Ning Chan’s neck, Kane let out a dissatisfied hum at the interruption, his fingertips twitching slightly. Hearing his beloved’s breathless voice, he reluctantly withdrew his hand—slowly, deliberately—before settling it back on that slender waist.

"No one’s here, and it’s so dark... Don’t you want to try?" Kane’s voice dropped lower, thick with desire, trying to lure Ning Chan into indulgence with him.

Having grown familiar with Kane’s tendencies during their time together, Ning Chan pressed his lips tightly. Given Kane’s enthusiasm for "marking" new locations, Ning Chan genuinely feared he might act recklessly now. "Ahem, no. Let’s just set off the fireworks first."

Rejected again, Kane buried his face in Ning Chan’s chest with a heavy sigh before releasing him. "Fine. Then teach me how to play with these things."

Ning Chan was surprised by Kane’s easy compliance. Normally, he wouldn’t relent without negotiating some lopsided demands.

Meeting Ning Chan’s suspicious gaze, Kane merely lowered his head, ears red, staring at the items in his hands without explanation. The answer came when they returned to the palace.

Holding the maid’s dress in his hands, Ning Chan’s expression turned complicated. Wonderful. After exploring new "locations," Kane had now picked up a cosplay kink. Who had taught him this? Or had he figured it out on his own? Unable to pinpoint the "culprit," Ning Chan drifted off to sleep, the outfit reduced to nothing but a loose, lacy white apron.

The next morning, Ning Chan woke with a sore back and began contemplating costumes himself. He wondered how Kane would look in a military uniform or the Feiyu robes (a traditional embroidered uniform) of ancient Huaguo—with that handsome face, he’d surely be breathtaking.

Still thinking innocently, Ning Chan had no idea his suggestion would later become Kane’s weapon of charm.

Busy with official duties, Kane had no time to watch the games. Ning Chan, however, decided to check on the day’s events, curious about the athletes’ performances.

As for the wagering outside the arena, Ning Chan hadn’t researched the competitors. He planned to simply pick whoever caught his eye.

Win or lose, his wager would contribute a portion to the charity fund—a small act of goodwill.

Unlike Ning Chan’s casual approach, those who had placed bets were on edge, anxiously tracking every update from the field.

"The 100m results are in! Let’s see who made the top three in the first round!" The tavern owner retrieved the slip from the pigeon at the window, scanning it under the eager gazes of the patrons.

Though the official bets were modest, the gambler’s mentality knew no bounds—many in the room were already feverish with anticipation.

"Third place—Buchiri from Hancha City, with a time of... First place—Peter from the capital!"

"Told you! I knew Peter had it in him! That kid’s been speedy since childhood."

"No surprise he’s the top contender. Peter took the lead right away—let’s see if he can hold it till the end."

"Of course he will! He’s from our capital. I’ve seen him run—his legs move so fast they’re a blur!"

"Oh, so you know Peter? What’s he look like? Tall, with long legs?"

The satisfied bettor bragged to anyone listening about his keen eye, explaining how he’d predicted the winners.

Those who lost moped briefly before getting swept up in the lively atmosphere, even listening intently for tips—this round was just one of many.

Not everyone cared about winning bets, though. Many were more invested in whether their hometown athletes advanced, especially those from their own cities.

A few standout competitors would boost their bragging rights.

As the games intensified, discussions about training tricks, rules, and standout competitors spread nationwide. It seemed anyone who couldn’t contribute to the chatter was out of the loop.

Kane, noticing Ning Chan’s cheerful excitement for the matches, got possessive a few times, pressing Ning Chan’s hand to his own abdomen and demanding to know who had the better physique—him or the athletes.

In Ning Chan’s eyes, Kane’s perfect proportions and muscles as flawless as his face were unmatched, not just among the competitors, but across the entire kingdom—one in a million.

But what could Ning Chan say about Kane's jealous, clingy act? He had spoiled him into this, so he could only endure it—at this point, he might as well pen sonnets about him.

However, among so many competing athletes, few left a deep impression on Ning Chan. After all, he had his own matters to attend to and couldn’t make it to every match.

Among the ones he remembered, Harvey stood out as rather special. He had only heard of wolf-children before but had never actually seen a child raised by wild beasts. Such an experience was far more tumultuous than others'.

"Kane, do you think that feral kid Harvey can win first place in the shot put?" Ning Chan lowered his binoculars and nudged the person beside him with his elbow. It was rare for Kane to have free time, and they’d stumbled into a match featuring their "pet" contestant. He wondered if his bet would pay off this time.

His previous blind picks had all been donations to charity—not a single one was correct.