Chapter 30: Why Isn’t He Struggling Yet?

Chapter 30 Why Isn't He Struggling Yet

As the figure approached, a warm, damp scent infused with the lingering fragrance of plants and herbs wafted over him.

Liu Qingci was dressed in a white silk pajama set.

The pajamas were relatively modest in style, with a top with crossed collars and a right-side lapel, embroidered with cloud patterns in matching silk thread at the collar and cuffs, the sash neatly cinched at his waist, and the pants made of the same soft silk, loose-fitting, falling to his ankles.

Fresh from the bath, his skin, moistened by the hot water, had a delicate, translucent pink tint, especially on the nape of his neck and the parts of his wrists the pajamas didn't cover. The skin was smooth and fine, like fine mutton-fat jade warmed through, softly glowing.

Xiao Yan's gaze involuntarily lingered for a moment on that damp and flushed skin, before quickly looking away.

This time, without Xiao Yan having to speak, Liu Qingci came over on his own and sat down beside him.

"Done washing up?"

Liu Qingci: "Mm..."

He was just making pointless small talk.

Xiao Yan took a deep breath.

He was damned if he did and damned if he didn't.

He reached out without hesitation and put his hand on the sash at the waist of the pajamas.

Just as he leaned over, Liu Qingci's entire body flinched hard, and he instinctively drew back.

His body stiffened, his thick lashes trembling fiercely, but he stubbornly kept his eyes open.

Xiao Yan was startled by this intense reaction, his movements pausing, his heart racing.

Okay.

Next step: he would struggle violently.

Then he would tear it apart violently.

Xiao Yan's fingertips wrestled with the sash, the more nervous he became, the more clumsy his fingers got.

How could he not undo such a simple knot?

Of course, Liu Qingci hadn't started struggling either.

His finger snagged on something, and the sash finally started to come loose.

Just one more gentle tug, and the top would be fully open.

Xiao Yan was practically sweating on his forehead.

He looked up, his gaze inevitably meeting Liu Qingci, who was inches away.

From this angle, he could clearly see the other's downcast face.

Liu Qingci's eyelashes were wet, whether from leftover water or tears, his lips tightly pressed together, pale, and the line of his jaw looked especially fragile with tension.

Though his body was stiff as stone and his back ramrod straight, there was... no struggle or resistance.

He just let Xiao Yan do as he pleased, almost docilely.

Xiao Yan closed his eyes: "Little K! Why isn't he struggling yet? How am I supposed to tear it?!"

Little K appeared flustered: "Uh, I don't know either... What's going on?"

Xiao Yan: "You're asking me? Who the hell am I supposed to ask?"

Little K: "It's okay, Host. Just tear it. I don't know why, but the protagonist bottom's actions are a little off. As long as you fulfill the required actions in your task, it's fine!"

"Alright, I got it." Xiao Yan sounded annoyed.

Little K: "Then keep going, Host!"

"No, wait a moment." Xiao Yan stopped it and asked, "So you're just sitting here watching in a situation like this???"

"See no evil, hear no evil. Host, rest assured! I only see pixelated blurs, and I definitely won't hear anything I shouldn't!" Little K assured.

This stiff, awkward pose went on too long, and Xiao Yan still hadn't made the next move.

Liu Qingci's lashes trembled even more violently, with increasing uneasiness.

That large, knobby hand had been resting on his waist all along, his movements hesitant, yet the presence was overwhelmingly strong.

He looked down and saw Xiao Yan's other hand reaching over too.

"Rip—"

The sound of fabric tearing was sharp and jarring.

Liu Qingci felt nothing but a tugging and a chill across his chest.

He squeezed his trembling eyes shut.

His stiff body nearly turned to stone, but he vaguely heard a sigh of relief beside his ear.

Liu Qingci almost held his breath, slowly, tentatively opening his eyes.

His own top had been torn by the other man, hanging pathetically off him.

Better than nothing.

And the culprit had already withdrawn his hand, sitting there with a poker face.

With a vacant gaze and cold tone, he said,

"The clothes are already torn. Take them off."

Liu Qingci snapped out of his daze at that.

He should have felt humiliated hearing that.

But strangely, Prince Yu in front of him had a stiff tone, and he deliberately kept his gaze averted, never looking at him.

Looking closely, it seemed there was even a suspicious red tint on his earlobes.

He even felt that Prince Yu seemed even more uncomfortable than he was.

He murmured, "Alright..."

Liu Qingci did as he was told, silently raising his hand to remove the torn pajama top.

His bare chest was exposed to the air, but fortunately the charcoal fire in the bedchamber was burning hot enough that it wasn't too cold.

Xiao Yan instinctively glanced in his direction at the sound of movement.

The bare back flashed momentarily, yet the flawless skin clearly showed a patch of fierce, ugly scars.

The wounds had scabbed over, like unevenly colored burn scars.

Xiao Yan's breath caught, and his gaze recoiled sharply as if scalded.

"...Your Highness?" Liu Qingci's voice, slightly husky, carried a hint of confusion.

He stood frozen there, not even noticing the look in Xiao Yan's eyes.

Then he heard Xiao Yan say, "Hmm, turn around."

Liu Qingci stiffly turned until he sat with his back to Xiao Yan.

Being exposed and facing away made him feel very insecure.

He placed his hands on his legs, fingers tightly gripping the fabric of his sleeping trousers, twisting the fabric into messy wrinkles.

Just as Liu Qingci's nerves were stretched to the breaking point, he heard a rustling sound behind him.

It sounded like someone was searching for something, followed by the crisp clink of porcelain.

What was he doing?

Liu Qingci's confusion deepened, but his tense body didn't dare to relax in the slightest.

Then, he felt a cool touch on his back.

"Mm..."

The unexpected cold touch made him shiver all over, and a short gasp escaped his throat.

A faint medicinal scent began to fill the air.

The sensation on his back became more distinct—warm fingertips gently applied and circled the ointment over his scars.

The movements weren't especially gentle—clumsy and stiff, even—but the pressure was extremely careful, as if afraid of hurting him.

Liu Qingci's heart trembled.

Xiao Yan was applying medicine to him?

With his own hands?

The ointment gradually warmed from his body heat, bringing a cool, soothing relief to the faint discomfort.

"On my way back from the palace today, His Majesty bestowed a bottle of wound-healing ointment. I'm not sure how effective it is; why don't you try it first?"

The feeling of those kneading fingertips on his back was impossible to ignore. Liu Qingci's mind went blank, unable to think, and it took a moment before he realized Xiao Yan was speaking to him.

What did he mean by "try it first"?

This was medicine bestowed by the emperor, extremely precious. How could he, a convicted slave, be allowed to test it?

"...Thank you, Your Highness." In the end, he could only squeeze those three words from his dry throat.

Aside from thanking him, he didn't know what else to say or do.

"Hmm." Xiao Yan's voice sounded behind him. "We're almost done."

Liu Qingci: "Yes..."

But despite saying "soon," he kept going for a long time.

Liu Qingci grew more and more restless.

Were the injuries on his back really that extensive?

After applying for so long, he worried the whole bottle would be used up...

As if reading his mind, Xiao Yan spoke just before Liu Qingci could open his mouth:

"A little more massage helps with absorption."