Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Gao Zhen, steeped in the intoxicating scent of peonies, was like a forbidden fruit, exuding a fatal allure that brought a faint flush to Zhou Yunning's face. Unconsciously, his Calming Incantation accelerated to triple speed.

He had intended to place Gao Zhen on the bed and step away for a moment, but before he could fully straighten up, two soft arms wrapped around his neck. Then, the weeping beauty whimpered and pressed herself against him—

Zhou Yunning: !

Calming Incantation, quadruple speed.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Zhou Yunning knew this was his own heartbeat, pounding like a war drum, restless enough to burst from his chest.

He admonished himself: see no evil, hear no evil.

Resigned, Zhou Yunning closed his eyes and lifted his hands to remove the arms from his neck. But those seemingly soft, delicate hands proved surprisingly tenacious; no sooner had he removed them than they re-entwined, then again. Moreover, that tear-streaked face was adept at seizing opportunities, pressing close the moment he pulled his hands away. By the time Zhou Yunning noticed, the small chin was already resting on his shoulder, trembling as she whimpered, "No, no, no..."

Zhou Yunning wanted to cry himself. He, too, wanted to say "no, no, no." If the Calming Incantation hadn't already reached quadruple speed, he couldn't imagine what state he'd be in. In any case, he had to—

"!!"

Two soft legs suddenly wrapped around Zhou Yunning’s waist.

Quintuple speed!

He was going mad.

The Calming Incantation couldn't go any faster; it had reached its limit.

Realizing that if this continued, he might be the one to perish, Zhou Yunning decisively leaned down and pinned her beneath him.

With his hands braced on either side of Gao Zhen’s face, hot, ragged breaths fanned across his skin. Resigned, Zhou Yunning closed his eyes and brought his lips closer, until they touched the snow-white side of her neck.

The drawn blood was spat onto the white cloth.

...A small sip, a small sip...

Bloodletting to quell desire—a last resort.

The crimson liquid spread freely across the white cloth, eventually pooling together. From a distance, it resembled a blooming peony, or a blood-stained contract, signifying the marital bond forged on a wedding night.

"It hurts~" Gao Zhen cried, then again, "No, no, no..."

"Bear with it."

With that, Zhou Yunning bent down, and no matter how much Gao Zhen cried out afterward, he did not resurface.

...

As the sun set in the west, the scent of peonies finally faded.

Outside the window, a plaintive song drifted from afar, lamenting sorrow and betrayal.

The two inside paid it no mind—one lay unconscious on the bed, while the other, covering his mouth, rushed outside. In the courtyard stood one large vat, two smaller ones, and three wooden buckets. Zhou Yunning grabbed a bucket, plunged it into the largest vat, and upon lifting it, dumped the entire contents over his head. He shivered, remembering that only twenty-odd days had passed since the beginning of spring, and the nights were still quite cold. Even with his robust constitution, he couldn't endure this for long.

The wooden bucket was tossed back into the vat, splashing water across the courtyard.

Zhou Yunning’s chest heaved violently. He had to stop, but how could one bucket of water be enough? The metallic taste of blood lingered in his mouth, and the peony fragrance filling his nostrils and chest had only been slightly diluted, doing little to alleviate the frantic restlessness coursing through his limbs.

He wanted to—

No, he must not think!

Zhou Yunning shut his eyes tightly, yanked off his drenched clothes, and tossed them onto the clothesline. Immediately, he sat cross-legged on the ground, silently reciting the Calming Incantation while relying on the cool night breeze to quell the fire within.

This night—how could mere words describe its torment?!

...

Moonlight streamed through a torn hole in the window paper, casting a narrow beam of cold, white light across the face of the sleeping figure, prompting him to nuzzle against the pillow and turn over, hugging the quilt. He seemed to be sleeping deeply, soundly, and peacefully.

Gao Zhen was startled awake by a dizzying sensation the next morning. When he opened his eyes, he found himself being held by someone and was shocked. But before he could ask, a somewhat familiar, shrill voice sounded in his ear: "So much stained—it seems the Ninth Prince enjoyed himself last night? Congratulations to Your Highness, congratulations. This cloth, I shall take it. His Majesty will know that Your Highness has not failed his grace."

It was the eunuch from yesterday?!

Furious, Gao Zhen glared fiercely. The eunuch shot him a disdainful look, sneered, and left.

Gao Zhen: ...

"That’s Ling Bing, the adopted son of Chief Eunuch Ling Yuehe," Zhou Yunning glanced at Gao Zhen and reminded him, "Among Ling Yuehe’s adopted sons, he is the most unscrupulous."

"Oh. I hit him yesterday, slapped him across the face." Gao Zhen looked up at the person holding him, but after just one glance, he gasped in shock.

"Your face—" he blurted out, then immediately stopped, realizing how impolite the question was. Flustered, Gao Zhen lowered his head, unsure what to do.

"Mm. I’ve been like this since birth," the other said indifferently, as he placed Gao Zhen back on the bed.

Gao Zhen was terrified, his mind filled with the urge to escape. But as soon as he set one foot down, Zhou Yunning pressed a hand on his shoulder.

"What now?" Zhou Yunning rubbed his temples, seeming weary.

"Now"?

Gao Zhen keenly caught the implication—as if he had caused endless trouble before? But he couldn’t remember anything at the moment; his mind was still foggy. He muttered offhandedly, "I just wanted to pay my respects to Your Highness," and quietly drew his foot back.

Zhou Yunning sighed inwardly, thinking, 'Forget it, what fault is his?' He let out a faint "Mm," and said, "No need. Here, there’s no need for formalities."

"Oh."

Gao Zhen had no choice but to sit back properly, placing his hands on his knees, appearing very docile.

Unable to stare openly at Zhou Yunning’s face, he slightly lowered his head.

In his heart, however, he didn’t dislike this prince who put on no airs. If someone reduced to the cold palace still acted like a high-and-mighty prince every day, it would be absurd and invite ridicule.

Zhou Yunning’s current demeanor was actually quite fitting. At least Gao Zhen found him pragmatic.

Gradually, the impression of Zhou Yunning from the books stored in Gao Zhen’s mind faded, replaced by the living, breathing Ninth Prince before him.

"I’ve taken the east chamber, so you’ll have to make do with the west wing for now. I’ll help you tidy it up later." Zhou Yunning’s gaze fell on Gao Zhen’s slender, slightly bowed neck, but it lingered only for a moment before he looked away.

Gao Zhen, with his head lowered in thanks, naturally didn’t notice this subtle change in the Ninth Prince’s expression. It wasn’t until two cool fingers touched the side of his neck that he suddenly realized how close the Ninth Prince was to him.

"The wound hasn’t healed yet—don’t move it recklessly. Apply the ointment gently like this, without pulling at the injury." As he spoke, Zhou Yunning pressed a bamboo container into Gao Zhen’s hand.

"Alright."

"If you can’t see clearly," Zhou Yunning added, "there’s water in the courtyard—you can use it as a mirror."

"Yes. Thank you, Ninth Prince."

Gao Zhen held the bamboo tube, a hard-to-describe feeling welling up inside him. Zhou Yunning had already turned and walked out.

"Ninth Prince?"

Huh? What's he doing?

Gao Zhen hurriedly called out to him and made to get up and chase after him, but Zhou Yunning stopped him: "Didn't I tell you to stay in bed? Why aren't you listening?"

Gao Zhen: !

"Okay... um, alright!" He had no choice but to sit back down.

The door was pulled open then closed as Zhou Yunning left.

Gao Zhen was extremely curious, so he immediately rushed to the door and peered through the crack. He saw Zhou Yunning heading straight for the west chamber.

Is he... going to tidy up the room for me?

This guy is just too nice, isn't he?!

Gao Zhen felt strangely moved.

After making sure the door was shut, Gao Zhen re-examined the room. The strong scent of flowers still lingered in the air, making his head swim. He quickly opened the window to let the smell out.

The chilly early spring morning breeze blew in. It was cold, but it also brought bright sunlight.

Only then did Gao Zhen see clearly that the room consisted of three large connecting rooms. Though the furniture was simple—just a set of dilapidated tables and chairs, a pitch-black wardrobe, and a plank bed—everything was kept extremely clean. Even the uneven green bricks on the floor were spotless, showing that the person living here had not given up hope.

If all of this was done by Ninth Prince himself—Gao Zhen couldn't help but feel a profound respect.

To be honest, if he were abandoned in the cold palace for ten years with no one caring, he wasn't sure if he would have a mental breakdown.

Thinking this, Gao Zhen felt that Ninth Prince was truly impressive.

A pile of rags was placed on one of the chairs. At first, Gao Zhen didn't pay it any mind until he stepped on the hem of his robe and nearly fell. Only then did he realize that the robe he was wearing was too long.

This wasn't his clothes. Then where were his clothes... His gaze fell on the rags on the chair.

No way?!

Gao Zhen with trembling hands picked up the pile of rags from the chair. Though it was torn to shreds, he could still make out the collar and hem. He held it up against himself—the length was just right. His vision went dark.

Shit!

Who tore it?

Don't tell me it was Ninth Prince!

Gao Zhen's hands shook as he held the clothes. Seeing bloodstains all over them, he felt completely awful.

He slumped into the chair, holding his head as he tried to recall what happened yesterday.

He couldn't remember anything!

If there had been such a fierce struggle involving torn clothes yesterday, given the original author's style, he should be aching all over. But aside from the wound on his neck, nothing else hurt. Maybe...

He quickly lifted his robe to look. It was fine until he looked, but what he saw nearly made him faint.

He was covered in bruises, especially severe on his thighs, shattering any hope he had into pieces.

Holy shit—

Gao Zhen was stunned.

His head buzzed. Forgetting that he had been tied up yesterday, he assumed all the bruises were marks of passion.

Gao Zhen: ...

He took a deep breath, trying to comfort himself: It's fine, it's just for the plot—

A moment later: It's not fine! QAQ He wanted some peace and quiet.

Gao Zhen's eyes were vacant, even feeling his worldview crumbling before his eyes.

He remained dazed for a long time until a loud crash came from the courtyard. Startled, he stumbled to the door and peered through the crack.

In the courtyard, Ninth Prince wiped the sweat from his face with his sleeve. He was standing at the entrance of the west wing, throwing a pile of wood into the yard.

If he hadn't read the original novel, Gao Zhen would have found it hard to believe that the diligent man before him was a prince. And this prince had told him to rest while he went to tidy up the room for him.

Gao Zhen's eyes suddenly reddened. He quickly turned around, slid down against the door, and told himself, "The plot is just the plot." He muttered softly but couldn't resist turning back to peek outside.

Though the plot was dogshit... Ninth Prince... was genuinely nice, wasn't he?

A moment later, Gao Zhen shook his head and got up from the floor. After glancing at the tattered window paper, he lay back on the bed.

Staring at the wooden beams on the ceiling, he felt as if this scene resembled the time he moved into a small, rundown house in the countryside before transmigrating. Back then, he also had nothing, but within a year, he managed to improve his situation by relying on his massage skills and working at countryside banquet circuits.

He wasn't actually this delicate.

Gao Zhen was frustrated to be injured. Otherwise, he could have done many things himself, at least tidied up the west chamber.

Just as he was thinking this, a dialog box popped up in his mind: "Complete the plot [First Encounter Night]. Reward pending. Please claim it as soon as possible."

Whoa, he'd almost forgotten about this.

Since the prompt appeared, the task must be completed, right?

Gao Zhen eagerly opened the panel, only to be stunned on the spot—

What's going on?

What does "Plot Completion Progress: 99.9%" mean?

Why is it missing 0.1%?!

Didn't he faint, sleep, and even cry? His clothes were torn, and there was even blood. How could it still not be completed?!

Who could tell him what was still missing?!

Gao Zhen was getting frantic.

What kind of crappy task is this, without even a hint!

Just as he thought this, the system directly pushed up a pop-up window with a row of small squares. Only the first two showed items, while the rest were question marks.

Only two? How stingy!

Ninth Prince was fuming.

Then, he saw the items in the inventory clearly—

"Delicacies from the Four Seas" and "Miraculous Elixir."

Alright, since they happened to be urgently needed, I’ll temporarily let you off, you stingy system.

Gao Zhen needed to heal his injuries first before going to find Ninth Prince.

He quickly grabbed the "Miraculous Elixir."