Chapter 1 Why Don’t You Have Milk

Chapter 1: Why Don’t You Have Milk?

The spring equinox blazed brilliantly; the spring breeze was demure and graceful; the spring scenery, serene and leisurely. The lamplight was dim yet warm; the night, clear and bright. A bird chirped softly from time to time, playfully settling into sleep on magnolia branches swaying in mist. The magnolia trembled lightly; its drifting fragrance—like an ancient charm from millennia past—fell through day and night, enriching yet another night’s dreams.

First Floor, Old Soy Sauce Factory Residential Area, Fengwai Town, Luoyang City.

A young man—somewhere between teenager and young adult—pushed open his bedroom door excitedly. Lean and wiry, with bright, lively eyes, he wore a white tank top and red harem pants, radiating energy. First, he picked up the clay figurine beside his pillow and kissed it, then grabbed his change of clothes and headed into the bathroom.

While showering, Shi Zai looked forward to tonight’s dream. The dreams these past few nights had been so sweet—he fell asleep smiling and woke up grinning.

Unlike reality, in his dreams, Shi Zai was no longer the tenth child of the Shi family, no longer the most overlooked among twelve siblings, no longer the lonely boy forced to fend for himself since childhood, no longer the pitiable soul whose own parents sometimes struggled to remember his name. Oh—did he even *have* a name? "Shi Zai"—Ten. Fortunately, nineteen years ago, the census officer had changed *zǎi* (崽, "child") to *zài* (载, "to bear" or "to chronicle"). From that moment, he became Shi Zai—someone capable of inscribing his own story. Though barely educated, Shi Zai held an unshakable belief:

“I carry my own life”—no matter its form.

In his dreams, it was the complete opposite. Shi Zai was a beloved child. He couldn’t see who held him, but the embrace was so warm.

Hurry up and get to sleep! Tonight, he’d worked past midnight, bundling up all the cardboard, plastic bottles, iron wires, aluminum wires, copper wires, and other odds and ends from the basement. It took tremendous effort—but he’d sell them for cash first thing tomorrow. Exhausting as it was, it made him happy!

His room—a cramped, aging one-bedroom—was clean and tidy. The window stood perpetually half-open, often letting in the elegant fragrance of magnolia blossoms below, washing away the day’s hardships. Shi Zai showered quickly, then lay fragrantly on his bed, face still damp, eyes sparkling. Under the small lamp, as usual, he gently stroked his “little companion,” playing with it for a long time each night.

The palm-sized clay figurine depicted a male pottery figure with a small bird perched on its shoulder—utterly delightful. The bird was plump and round, entirely dark cyan, with goose-yellow wingtips. As for its tail—*hehe*, no tail! When Shi Zai found it, the tail was already broken beyond repair, so he smoothed the break and painted it ochre-red. Had it possessed a long tail, it would’ve looked spirited—but like this, it remained charmingly cute.

The male figure stood tall and imposing—though palm-sized and repaired until only its meditation pants remained. It looked majestic—or rather, reassuring. Placed beside the pillow, it resembled a towering peak; cradled in the palm, it felt like a pillar holding up the sky. And it was quite handsome—Shi Zai called it “Handsome Man.”

He’d unearthed the male pottery figure from a dirt pit near the garbage dump two months ago. Initially somewhat damaged, after constant repairs, re-firing, and cleaning over those two months, the figurine had grown glossy—even exuding a faint vitality.

Especially when gazing into their eyes—the bird’s round and lively, the male figure’s deep and profound—Shi Zai could never resist whispering “good night” to them.

The moon brushed across the magnolia branches; the night deepened. Shi Zai smiled, eyes curving:

“Handsome Man, come into my dreams tonight.”

“And you too, cute little bird. Was it you these past few nights?”

“Good night—I really like you.”

Murmuring these words, Shi Zai clutched the figurine tightly and sank into deep sleep.

Sure enough! Another sweet dream tonight! Still that warm, spacious embrace. Shi Zai curled up inside it like a cat drowsy from spring—sleeping so soundly that soft murmurs escaped his throat, utterly comfortable. He nuzzled occasionally, and the embrace never pulled away.

He just couldn’t see who held him. Shi Zai rubbed his eyes hard. Perhaps the holder was simply too tall—no matter how he strained to look up, clarity eluded him. They must be very gentle… Shi Zai thought drowsily, growing ever more curious about the dream figure’s face. He buried his head against their shoulder, nuzzling, then rubbed his eyes again. Dawn seemed to break—brilliant light streamed through the window. Shi Zai’s eyes snapped open.

He was awake.

Immense disappointment and loneliness flooded his heart. Shi Zai closed his eyes, buried his head, and nuzzled again… nuzzled.

Wait!!!

His eyes flew open again. He—he—he was lying *beside* someone?!

A very, very tall, very, very handsome, strong man! Shi Zai couldn’t describe the scene with his limited vocabulary. The man lay flat—the small bed too short, his feet sticking out. Bare-chested, wearing only monk pants, he frowned slightly in sleep, exuding a fierce aura.

At last, he could see the dream figure’s face. Handsome—yet also somewhat fierce: thick eyebrows, sharp eyes, a firm jaw, lips like blades. Yet it seemed less malice than unhappiness—making Shi Zai want to draw closer, not recoil in fear.

His heart raced wildly—a whirlwind of eight hundred emotions colliding in his chest: the dream was over… the dream wasn’t over… shock… delight… joy at vanished loneliness… years of accumulated grievances… the rarity of this moment… disbelief… All condensed, finally, into: *Let’s sleep a bit more—the embrace is so warm.* Cautiously, Shi Zai edged closer. The man’s eyes remained tightly shut; his chest broad and massive. Shi Zai lay atop it.

So comfortable. It truly *was* Handsome Man. Handsome Man wearing monk pants? Strange.

Was he *still dreaming*?! Such warmth—never held since childhood. Shi Zai couldn’t help burying his head and nuzzling, curling up just as in the dream. He was short; the strong man, tall—like a child nestled in an adult’s arms. Shi Zai felt at peace, greedily clinging to that bare yet incredibly warm chest. He nuzzled again—his lips accidentally brushing firm pectoral muscles—then… a somewhat hard bead.

Never having had milk, he instinctively suckled—then suddenly realized his mistake and spat it out. Just as Shi Zai lifted his face, the man beneath him *moved*!

Those eyes locked onto him, brows furrowing tighter… Shi Zai’s mind turned chaotic—thoughts violently clashing, leaving his brain blank. They stared at each other for several seconds. Shi Zai seemed to drift back into dreamland, dazed—his speech turning silly:

“Handsome Man… why don’t you have milk?”

“…”

*Thud!* With a jolt from the bed frame, Shi Zai was lifted high by the man’s two arms. The small bed beneath them swayed several times.

Only then did Shi Zai snap fully back to reality. Panicked, terrified, he flailed, trying to get down—but couldn’t move an inch. Instantly, fragments of social news flooded his mind. No matter how mature he usually acted, no matter how boldly and optimistically he’d trained himself to be—he was only nineteen. Anxiety surged. The arms gripping him were like iron hoops—completely immovable. Yet, no matter how scared, he was alone.

Swallowing hard, Shi Zai gathered courage to explain his seemingly bizarre behavior:

“Handsome Man—I was dreaming. Did you *really* come into my dream tonight? I’ve never been held before… Your embrace felt so comfortable—I really liked it—so I buried my head. Now… is this a dream… or real?”

“…”

“I have a pottery figure… Is it *you*?”

“…”

“Where’s my pottery figure? I—I want my pottery figure! He—he wouldn’t be fierce with me. He keeps me company every night…”

Getting no response—and still held aloft—Shi Zai could hold back no longer. His voice choked up; his body trembled slightly… He was fully awake now. The man was *real*! An intruder had broken into his home! And he was *fierce*!

Shi Zai’s muscles and bones ached from the grip—terror mounting. His eyes slowly reddened—until, finally, he cried out in despair:

“What—what do you *want*?! Do *whatever* you want—*wu wu wu*… Anyway, I’m alone. Just kill me—or cut me up—quickly! No one will notice if I die. My—my parents won’t cause you trouble—*wu wu*…”

“…”

“Die—just *die*. I’ll reincarnate into a good life—find parents who love me…”

“…”

“My pottery figure—*wu wu*… I want my *non-fierce* pottery figure. Give it back to me…”

*Plip-plop… drizzle-drizzle.*

Warm tears mingled with the fine spring rain outside the window—dripping onto the broad chest.

Even solid ice would melt.

The two arms holding him aloft slowly lowered. Immediately, the warmth on the chest grew heavier—nearly scalding his entire heart.

The wailing cries nearly shook his heart and lungs apart. Similar emotions spread from the person in his arms to his own sternum. Shu Yangkuo let the person in his arms lie there—crying, venting. After a long while, he lifted an arm, hovered it mid-air for a few seconds—then finally lowered it back to his side.

Just moments ago, he’d been meditating in his bedchamber. Why had he awakened… with a boy in his arms?

And quite a vulgar boy at that.

Sin.

Where was this place now? What else had the Empress Dowager and Third Brother planned?

Why was the boy crying so bitterly—just as he had when first rescuing Yang Yun? Where *was* Yang Yun?

Countless questions were left unanswered. Shu Yangkuo realized almost instantly that he had arrived in another world—the Boy's World.

Finally cried out, his buried chest now damp, Shi Zai suddenly felt no more fear. Perhaps it was because the embrace had regained warmth, or because the man holding him was as wonderful as in his dreams, showing no intention to harm him—actually not scary at all.

Feeling a bit embarrassed by his outburst, Shi Zai rubbed his face and accidentally touched that nipple again, now also damp… But he didn’t dare linger. He quickly lifted his head, eyes red and swollen, meeting another pair of eyes looking down at him with an unreadable expression. His voice hoarse from crying, he asked:

"Great handsome man, who are you really? Where did you come from?"

"……"

"Can’t you speak?"

"……"

"Great handsome man, I’m not afraid of you anymore. You’re as good as my terracotta figurine. Don’t be afraid either. If you’re willing to stay, I’ll treat you really, really well—because I only have you."

"……"

Shi Zai rubbed his swollen eyes, unsure what to do. The man remained silent, only stirring slightly when he said the last sentence. The tense muscles under him suddenly relaxed a little, as if he understood but wouldn’t respond.

Who exactly is this man?

Shi Zai glanced toward the pillow, and his heart began to race wildly. His terracotta figurine was gone. Could it be… this brawny yet handsome man? Shi Zai lifted himself up from the silent man’s body and craned his neck to look under the bed—maybe it had fallen?

But this glance startled him. How was there another one under the bed!!!

A boy much shorter than him, around fifteen or sixteen, lay blinking up at him. The baby fat still soft on his face, he looked obedient and cute, really like a little bird—or a pink dumpling. Dressed in a blue vest and red shorts, he looked quite cheerful.

Seeing Shi Zai, the pink dumpling suddenly curved his round eyes into a smile.

Caught off guard, Shi Zai let out a small gasp and immediately jumped off the bed. Right after, the man also sat up abruptly, as if uncomfortable, bracing his legs and swaying slightly, his brow faintly furrowed. Shi Zai quickly steadied him:

"Great handsome man, what’s wrong? Are your legs injured? Let me check…"

"……"

As he spoke, Shi Zai crouched down to push up the man’s pants leg, but the trousers were tied with bindings and wouldn’t loosen. So he straightened up and reached for the waistband… Before his hands could touch it, both were seized tightly in the man’s large palm… Shi Zai winced in pain, shedding another tear, before his hands were released.

Rubbing his sore wrists indignantly, Shi Zai was about to speak when the pink dumpling beside him suddenly sat up, covering his eyes:

"His Highness is finally going to have intimate relations. I’ll step out."

"……What 'His Highness'? What 'intimate relations'?"

Shi Zai’s question went unanswered. The pink dumpling tried to stand but wobbled unsteadily, as if he didn’t know how to use his hands. Shi Zai quickly helped him up—he was very light and soft to hold. In the next moment, the man turned fierce again, even more so than before, glaring coldly at Shi Zai for holding the pink dumpling.

These two… seem to know each other? Shi Zai paused, then suddenly broke into a smile—they were the terracotta figurines!!

They really turned into people to keep him company!!

Shi Zai jumped excitedly on the spot. He wasn’t afraid of whatever they were, human or ghost… As a child, he’d been abandoned in a graveyard, and that night he hadn’t felt fear—only wished the dead would rise as zombies or something to keep him company.

Besides, these two were actual living people! Very handsome people!

He bounced around a few more times, too excited to know what to do. Gathering courage, he hugged the tall man sitting on the bed, then lifted the pink dumpling up high before setting him down again… Yang Yun, startled, quickly steadied himself against the wall, glanced at Shu Yangkuo’s expression, and said to the older boy:

"Kneel at once when you see the Crown Prince!"

Author's Note:

Shi Zai: What exactly have I picked up? A great handsome man? A male nanny? A fake monk? Actually… an antique.

Shi Zai’s laughter cut off abruptly. What had he just heard?

"Crown Prince???"

"……You… you’re a crude bootlicker."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than Yang Yun was grabbed by Shu Yangkuo’s outstretched arm. Before Shu Yangkuo could do anything, Yang Yun began making fussy noises—he’d misread the situation again! He thought the Crown Prince was displeased after the boy threw himself into his arms, so he’d scolded the older boy on his behalf!

He hadn’t even had time to add—"Do you want to be a kept man?"

Now what did this mean…? Oh, Crown Prince, you’re bringing ruin to the nation!

But, the nation… Yang Yun lay across Shu Yangkuo’s knee, but after waiting and no slap came, he regained his courage:

"Your Highness, where are we mmph—"

Before he could finish, Yang Yun’s cheeks were pinched. Pouting, he cried out "Second Uncle!" before being released, then quickly stood up:

"Haha, I know! We’re here to see how the people live. We can’t say 'Your Highness' outside. Second Uncle… ah ah, I’ll shut up!"

"……"

Shu Yangkuo sighed softly. The little fool’s mind was muddled again. Even if this were still the Great Tang Dynasty, what kind of Crown Prince was he anymore?

Now, glancing around, he saw the room’s owner—the older boy—staring at him in a daze, probably belatedly frightened. Whatever the case, wherever they were, it was inconvenient to disturb him. This boy seemed bold, but he was really just a pup.

Trying to stand, his legs—what was wrong with them?

The moment Shu Yangkuo fell back onto the bed, Shi Zai snapped out of his trance. From the time the pink dumpling was yanked onto Shu Yangkuo's lap, seemingly to be disciplined but then released, he had been observing them, growing more certain—these two were real, living people!

Whoever they were, wherever they came from, what mattered was… Shi Zai braced his hands on his knees, leaning slightly to look at the tall man:

"Great handsome man, where is your home?"

"……"

So he really doesn't speak. Shi Zai turned to look at the pink dumpling. Yang Yun silently swallowed the words "Eastern Palace" and shook his head.

Shi Zai felt a surge of joy and asked again, as if to confirm:

"Do you have a home? I mean, in this place, do you have family? If not…"

"A temple."

"……You can talk, great handsome man??!!"

Hearing the deep voice unexpectedly, Shi Zai’s eyes widened instantly. Then, his gaze fell slightly. The words "a temple" felt like a collapsing building, suddenly suffocating him and dragging him back to reality.

Right. The terracotta figurine was dressed like a meditative practitioner. Even without a home, he could go to a temple.

He whispered, "I understand," his shoulders slumping. His eyes fell on the man’s legs. After a moment’s thought, he perked up:

"Then… let your legs heal first before going, okay? If you go like this, I would be worried… You… don’t be afraid. If you don’t want to stay, I won’t force you… But stay for now, all right?"

Without waiting for a response, Shi Zai immediately turned and stepped out of the bedroom, but he didn’t go far. He just leaned back against the wall beside the door, took a deep breath, and shed another couple of tears. Why was he crying so much today?

In less than two seconds, he wiped away his tears, pressed against the door he hadn't closed properly, and craned his neck, waiting for the guillotine to drop.

Just as he met the man's gaze, Shi Zai's heart pounded wildly as he awaited the verdict. One second, two seconds—the man nodded!

Shi Zai immediately broke into a wide grin, went back into the bedroom, grabbed a chair and sat backwards on it, then looked up:

"Handsome, I'm easy to please. Whether you stay for a month or just a week, as long as you spend some time with me, that's enough. After all, my terracotta figure is gone, so you owe me, right? Hehe, just kidding—I don't need compensation. Your appearance is a heaven-sent gift to me. But if you change your minds and want to stay with me forever, that'd be even better!"

"..."

"Not speaking again? That's alright, it's enough that I like you. I'll remember you forever."

As soon as he finished speaking, he noticed the man turning his head away. How strange, the tips of his ears were red. Communicating with him was really tough, so Shi Zai turned to look at the Pink Dumpling who had somehow ended up sitting at the table, swinging his little legs... Well, this one wasn't much easier to communicate with either.

After a pause, Shi Zai chose the simplest question:

"Little Pink Dumpling..."

"I'm not a little pink dumpling!!!"

"Hehe, I was just about to ask what your names are?"

"...I'm Yang Yun, and he's Shu Yangkuo."

What unusual surnames. Shi Zai scratched his short hair:

"So I should call him Ershu?"

"...Why don't you just call him a monk? Or Baldy, ha..."

Before he could finish the "ha," Yang Yun got a cold look, shrunk his neck, and immediately shut up. This big kid seemed goofy and clueless—how could he explain things to him? One wrong move and the Crown Prince's temper might change. Ah, serving a prince is like living with a tiger.

It was the Crown Prince himself who wanted to become a monk. He hadn't actually become one yet, just was all set to go, and then they inexplicably ended up here. Why go to a temple? Wouldn't it be better if the ruler never attended morning court again? Hehe, the Crown Prince will ascend the throne eventually anyway.

Seeing that the man showed no anger, Shi Zai studied him for a while. He really was bald... wait, no, shaven-headed. Most people don't look good with a shaved head, but the man's good looks made him overlook it. He commanded respect without showing anger, and his unique, imposing aura was unmistakable even without expression.

He had never seen anyone so good-looking. Shi Zai had met TV celebrities before, but never anyone this handsome.

After marveling repeatedly, Shi Zai crinkled his eyes with a smile:

"My name is Shi Zai—'Zai' as in 'documented,' not 'Zai' as in the tenth kid in the family, hehe."

"..."

The man nodded again! Heartened by the response, Shi Zai smiled even wider, his eyes sparkling:

"Handsome, can I call you 'brother' and Yang Yun 'little bro'?"

"..."

This time, there was no response. A bit discouraged, Shi Zai turned to the boy named Yang Yun, who was also staring at him dopily, as if not understanding what he was saying. After a pause, he asked again:

"How old are you two?"

"I'm eight thousand two hundred years old..."

"Cough, cough, cough..."

"What's wrong, Little Shizai? You should call me great-great-great..."

Before he could finish the string of "greats" followed by "grandpa," Shi Zai burst into laughter:

"So you two are nuts. Don't go to the temple—stay with me and let me take care of you."

"..."

"Hehe, just kidding. How old are you really?"

Yang Yun pursed his lips and, under Shu Yangkuo's gaze, answered properly:

"I'm sixteen, Ershu is twenty-seven."

"Hehe, I'm nineteen, so that makes you exactly brother and little bro."

"How audacious! The Crown Prince cannot casually become someone's brother!"

"...HAHAHAHAHA!!"

Shi Zai doubled over laughing. Finally, he realized what Yang Yun meant by all that "Your Highness" and "Crown Prince" talk—these two were actually crazy! Did they think they'd time-traveled, or that ancient people had come to the modern era?

They sure knew how to give themselves titles, hahaha.

Wiping his laughing tears from the corners of his eyes, he noticed in his peripheral vision that the man's ears were red again. Shi Zai stopped laughing:

"We'll talk about calling you brother and little bro when you're willing. For now, I'll just call you Monk. Why dress like a monk anyway... Monk, I see your leg. If it's serious, I'll get you to a clinic or hospital."

"..."

Again, no response. The man even pulled his leg back slightly. So Shi Zai turned to Yang Yun:

"Yun Bao, let me see your arm?"

"It's not an arm, it's a wing."

"What?"

"...Haha, just kidding. But where's my tail?"

Hearing this, Shi Zai felt it sounded more believable than all that "Crown Prince" talk. Yang Yun really was the little bird from the terracotta figure!!! Because that bird's tail was broken, and he had smoothed it over! Maybe, just maybe... A careful hope started forming—perhaps these two could stay forever?

Carefully, Shi Zai took the arm Yang Yun extended toward him. It wasn't injured, but he'd get him an X-ray in a few days.

Of course, it might also be because the wings turned into arms, so he didn't know how to use them? Hehe, hopefully that was it.

Growl, growl.

Shi Zai paused, then smiled:

"I forgot to make you breakfast. Wait here."

"I need to pee first."

"Oh right! And bathroom breaks, brushing teeth, washing faces..."

Muttering to himself, Shi Zai grabbed Yang Yun around the waist and hauled him into the bathroom. These two definitely didn't know how to do anything. Sure enough, the previously noisy little Yang Yun fell silent, standing by the toilet looking utterly confused, like some helpless little kid—pitiful.

Feeling increasingly softhearted, Shi Zai pulled down his pants:

"Xiao Yunbao, pee now, sshh ssHH..."

"...I can do it myself!!"

"Hahaha, never thought a little bird would have a little chick too!"

"...Uncle, save me! He's molesting me, mmph..."

"Hahaha..."

Shi Zai laughed heartily, clamping a hand over Yang Yun's mouth to keep him from yelling, so the man wouldn’t hear and panic, stand up, and fall.

After watching Yang Yun finish, Shi Zai grabbed some toilet paper:

"Don’t shake it everywhere, wipe yourself."

"......"

Face red, Yang Yun wiped himself clean under Shi Zai’s watchful eye, then figured out how to flush the toilet. It was incredible—they really weren’t in the Great Tang Dynasty anymore. So where were they, really? It was terrifying.

Unable to hold back, his eyes welled up. Just as he lifted his clumsy arm to wipe them, Shi Zai pulled him into a hug:

"What’s wrong? Don’t be scared, I’m here. I’ll protect you. If you’re willing, think of me as your gege, okay?"

"...Gege, wuwu."

"Don’t cry, don’t cry..."

As soon as they entered the bedroom, the man was trying hard to push himself up. Shi Zai put Yang Yun down, his earlier feelings surging back, and rushed over:

"Don’t rush, don’t rush. I’ll help you. If you can talk, why didn’t you call me? I told you, I’ll handle everything."

"......"

The man was much taller and stronger than him, but Shi Zai was no pushover either—he’d done manual labor since he was young. He firmly supported the man’s arm and helped him step by step toward the bathroom.

As they moved, Shi Zai gradually felt reassured—the man’s leg probably wasn’t injured either. If he really was a clay figure, then Shi Zai had even less to worry about. When he first found the little figure, the clay figure’s right calf was missing a small piece. Following the advice of the old potter from the east end of town, Shi Zai painstakingly scraped off the figure’s "upper garment" bit by bit to repair the leg. That’s why the man only had pants now, hehe.

As for the leg, maybe he just wasn’t used to it yet? Same as before, they’d go for an X-ray in a few days.

When they reached the bathroom and stood before the toilet, Shu Yangkuo clutched his belt tightly... Shi Zai was puzzled:

"Monk, what’s wrong? I can see your pants are straining—aren’t you going to pee?"

"......"

"Why are you looking at me like that? Fine, I’ll turn around. You’re so much shyer than Xiao Yunbao."

Shi Zai chuckled "heh" and turned around while still supporting him. He knew Shu Yangkuo probably wanted him to leave, but that wasn’t possible—what if he fell? After several seconds, he finally heard the rustling sound of the belt being undone, followed by a rushing stream.

More intense than a summer downpour.

Shi Zai blushed for no reason—that sound was something else.

After a long while, the rushing finally stopped. Shi Zai immediately turned around to hand him toilet paper, accidentally catching a glimpse:

"Whoa, monk, your dick is huge! Why isn’t mine that big?"

"......"

Sensing a chill, Shi Zai looked up abruptly. The man’s entire ears were red as he somewhat flusteredly took the paper... only to drop it into the toilet. Shi Zai stifled a laugh and quickly tore off another sheet. He hesitated about whether to help, but the toilet paper was yanked away forcefully.

Shi Zai snorted but bit it back. He seemed to... have gotten a slight sense of the man’s temperament.

Seeing that the man was struggling to fasten his belt with one hand, Shi Zai boldly stepped in to help. The tall man tilted his head away as if in despair, and Shi Zai teased him:

"Good thing I didn’t cut it off for you."

"......"

Suddenly, a small hand gave him a light pat. Shu Yangkuo stumbled back a step, too stunned to even process the meaning behind the boy’s words. He was incredulous, flushed, and utterly exasperated by this sudden, inexplicable action:

"P-please show some restraint."