SBMT Chapter 12

The eavesdropper was still at the door-they couldn’t stay silent much longer.

 

Shen Ziqin decided to just go for it, gripping the quilt tighter: “We can’t just freeze up. I’ll start.”

 

Chu Zhao: “Alright, I’ll follow your lead.”

 

Shen Ziqin cleared his throat and tried an “ah” sound.

 

Chu Zhao followed with a hum.

 

Their first attempt ended in instant silence.

 

Even they could tell-their voices were completely flat, dry, and awkward, with zero emotion. Shen Ziqin’s “ah” sounded like a kid reciting pinyin for the first time, while Chu Zhao’s hum was heavy and forced-not the muffled pleasure of the bedroom, but the stifled grunt of someone swinging a sledgehammer and stubbornly refusing to shout.

 

This wouldn’t do.

 

Shen Ziqin might aspire to be a salted fish, but if he was going to do something, he’d do it right. If they couldn’t fool the person outside tonight, there’d be even more trouble later-no peace at all.

 

So this fake “bedroom scene” had to be convincing.

 

At least one of them needed to sound genuinely emotional for it to pass.

 

To inject some real feeling, before making another sound, Shen Ziqin pinched his own arm.

 

He didn’t pinch hard, just enough to let a little pain make his voice more natural-but he really was the type to bruise easily, and a red mark like a plum blossom appeared right away on his pale skin.

 

Shen Ziqin tried again: “Ah.”

 

Still not great, but much better.

 

Satisfied, he was about to keep going when Chu Zhao reached out and stopped him.

 

Shen Ziqin looked at him in confusion.

 

Chu Zhao said, “If there’s pinching to be done, let me do it.”

 

Shen Ziqin had pinched himself so quickly that Chu Zhao hadn’t realized what he was doing at first, so he hadn’t stopped him in time.

 

Chu Zhao’s gaze swept over the red mark on his arm. If such a light pinch left such a mark, he’d have to remind the servants to be extra gentle when massaging or kneading his shoulders in the future…

 

Wait, massaging?

 

A lightbulb went off in Chu Zhao’s mind-he had an idea.

 

“I just thought of something better than pinching,” he said.

 

Chu Zhao flexed his wrist. “I’ve spent years in the army and learned a bit of massage and grappling. Let me give you a massage, and you can make sounds according to the pressure?”

 

Massage? That was perfect!

 

Back in his office worker days, Shen Ziqin could only afford a massage at the community clinic after exhausting overtime, and now here in ancient times, not only was there no overtime, but he could get a massage for free.

 

And letting the pressure guide his voice would definitely be more effective than pinching himself.

 

Shen Ziqin pulled the quilt halfway down and obediently lay face-down. “Go ahead.”

 

He’d pulled the quilt down to expose his waist and back, but it slipped to a rather delicate position-just under his hips, pinning his loose underpants and making the area between his waist and the quilt especially conspicuous.

 

Chu Zhao’s hand, which was loosening up, froze for a second.

 

Then, keeping his composure, he gently pulled the quilt back up to Shen Ziqin’s waist.

 

Truly a gentleman.

 

Massage required the right strength and placement-it could make someone sigh with pleasure or howl in pain, and it all depended on technique.

 

Martial artists were usually tough and could take a lot, and in the army, massages were often rough and forceful for quick results. But with Shen Ziqin, Chu Zhao had to be extra gentle.

 

Chu Zhao started by pressing on Shen Ziqin’s shoulders. “Is this okay?”

 

“You can go harder… a little softer… ah, that’s good, don’t change it!”

 

The exchange made Chu Zhao want to laugh, but he continued, moving from the shoulders to the neck. Even through the thin fabric, he could feel how little flesh Shen Ziqin had-he’d have to adjust his diet starting tomorrow.

 

To be fair, Chu Zhao’s technique was excellent. Shen Ziqin let out a comfortable sigh, relaxing completely, feeling as if he were soaking in hot water. Just as he was about to try a performance moan, Chu Zhao pressed a spot on his back and Shen Ziqin cried out unexpectedly.

 

“Ah!”

 

The sound was soft, pleasant, and tinged with a shiver that could melt anyone’s ears.

 

Chu Zhao: !

 

Shen Ziqin: “…”

 

Oh no, that wasn’t acting-turns out he’s actually sensitive!

 

He hadn’t noticed with his shoulders and neck, but just one press on his back and he couldn’t hold in his voice.

 

He could feel Chu Zhao’s hands freeze.

 

Even though he couldn’t see Chu Zhao’s shocked face, the awkwardness in the air was enough to make him want to disappear.

 

After a moment, he heard Chu Zhao’s embarrassed voice: “Impressive, you’re really talented at this… I mean, you’re talented at acting, nothing else.”

 

He honestly couldn’t tell if Shen Ziqin was acting or not-after all, that reaction had been almost like a reflex.

 

But Chu Zhao was genuinely stunned by that sound.

 

It was a little too convincing, and it shook him up.

 

Chu Zhao took a deep breath: Never mind, this is a good start-wasn’t this exactly what they needed?

 

At this point, there was no way Shen Ziqin would admit he’d just lost control because it felt too good. He’d rather let Chu Zhao think he was just a good actor. He hugged his pillow, hiding his clenched hands, and forced a casual tone: “Let’s keep going.”

 

Chu Zhao: “…Alright.”

 

He pressed on with his knuckles.

 

Chu Zhao noticed Shen Ziqin’s body tensing up, which made him feel a strange, inexplicable nervousness too.

 

The first press, Shen Ziqin didn’t make a sound, but his back trembled and his breathing grew heavier.

 

The second press, he couldn’t help but let out a soft moan.

 

His face flushed red as he buried it in the pillow, thinking it might be better to just make the sounds outright-trying to hold back only made it worse.

 

His toes curled so hard he nearly dug a hole in the mattress.

 

He didn’t realize it, but Chu Zhao could see his pale earlobes turning bright red.

 

Chu Zhao suddenly couldn’t keep going himself, feeling his own face heat up for no reason.

 

He tried making a short, quick sound to go along, but even someone as thick-skinned as Chu Zhao felt a bit flustered.

 

Still, Chu Zhao’s voice was stiff and awkward, which actually made Shen Ziqin, in the midst of his own embarrassment, want to laugh: so he wasn’t the only one nervous after all.

 

Plus, he was the one getting the massage, so really, he was the one benefiting.

 

Shen Ziqin gradually relaxed, letting go of his shame-not out of desperation, but boldly starting to moan and sigh, with plenty of feeling and a nice range of highs and lows, making the atmosphere very convincing.

 

Prince Qin was feeling the pressure, sweating buckets.

 

Chu Zhao was busy: for every three sounds Shen Ziqin made, he had to chime in with one of his own, all while using one hand to shake the bed for creaking sound effects during the massage.

 

With all this going on, his hands worked on a body that trembled with every touch-beautiful and delicate-while his ears were filled with a chorus of soft, alluring moans.

 

The contrast of black hair and pale skin before his eyes, the flickering lamplight-it all left Chu Zhao a little dazed, his focus slipping.

 

Shen Ziqin, oblivious, grew bolder as he let go, his performance getting better and better. Hearing Chu Zhao’s still-stiff responses, he even felt like a seasoned pro, thinking he ought to coach Chu Zhao a bit.

 

After all, he was a year older than Chu Zhao-by age, Chu Zhao should call him ge-

 

“Mm!”

 

Shen Ziqin’s composure was suddenly shattered.

 

With a sudden increase in pressure, Chu Zhao let out a low, deep groan.

 

Unlike before, this sound was magnetic and hot, and when it hit Shen Ziqin’s ears, it was like a thunderclap, smashing his previous calm to pieces.

 

Combined with the pressure from Chu Zhao’s knuckles, Shen Ziqin shivered all over, his waist instantly going soft.

 

He heard Chu Zhao take a heavy breath, his voice now noticeably husky: “…Sorry, used a bit too much force.”

 

It really hadn’t hurt, but the suddenness had caught Shen Ziqin off guard.

 

Shen Ziqin tried to steady his trembling: “…Mm.”

 

Damn, he’d meant to speak normally, but now every word sounded off.

 

And… Chu Zhao’s voice was just too attractive, making his ears itch.

 

The hand pressed to his back radiated heat through the thin fabric; Shen Ziqin felt like a piece of tofu being kneaded, everything about him feeling strange.

 

This was bad-his cheeks flushed, his fingers clenched tighter, and he instinctively edged forward as if to escape. Chu Zhao, puzzled, asked, “Shizi?”

 

He must have leaned in closer, because Shen Ziqin felt even more heat at his back; maybe it was just his imagination, but it seemed like Chu Zhao’s breath was brushing his ear.

 

Fighting the urge to run, Shen Ziqin, voice trembling but stubborn, said, “It’s nothing… just a little hot, let’s keep going.”

 

Chu Zhao wanted to say he was hot too, but saying it now would just make things more awkward, so he focused on the task at hand.

 

Inside, both of them found it hard to bear-while outside, someone else was just as uncomfortable.

 

Not the diligent eunuch, but Hei Ying, crouched on the roof.

 

Hei Ying was starting to doubt reality.

 

Were His Highness and Shizi really just acting? The sounds coming from inside were way too real. They were working so hard-should he really keep listening?

 

For the first time, eavesdropping on his master, Hei Ying didn’t know whether to stay or go; it felt like ants were crawling all over him, but his professionalism kept him perfectly still. The eunuch still hadn’t noticed him.

 

Hei Ying listened for a while, starting out sure they were faking, but gradually growing confused and suspicious.

 

Was it possible the two inside were actually doing it for real?

 

No, no, His Highness said he wasn’t interested in romance… but what if?

 

After all, Shizi was stunning, and he and His Highness got along well. They’d gone through the ceremony, had some wine, and now two men alone in the bridal chamber-on their wedding night, anything could happen, right?

 

Hei Ying went around in circles, ending up back where he started: should he stay on the roof or not?

 

The eunuch sent by imperial order had no such doubts. He listened intently for a long time, thinking, They’re really going at it in there. Listen to that bed creaking! They say Shizi is frail-can he handle this? Sixth Highness is really not holding back as a new husband.

 

When he’d heard enough to report back, the eunuch finally used his meager skills to quietly slip away from the courtyard.

 

As soon as he left, Chu Zhao sensed it and immediately withdrew his hands from Shen Ziqin, though his voice was still low and rough: “He’s gone.”

 

Just to be safe in case the eunuch doubled back, Chu Zhao kept shaking the bed for a while, keeping up the creaking.

 

Shen Ziqin collapsed onto the bed, grateful: Thank goodness, finally gone!

 

It had just been a normal massage, and only on his back, but he felt like every bone in his body had been turned to jelly by Chu Zhao.

 

No joke, it was too much-his fingers felt weak, and while it felt good, he wasn’t doing this again.

 

He let out a breath: “Finally gone…”

 

Once he was sure the eunuch wasn’t coming back, Chu Zhao quietly got up and put some distance between them. Only then did the heat between them begin to dissipate.

 

Shen Ziqin’s last words had a lingering softness, suggestive in a way that made the imagination run wild.

 

Chu Zhao poured himself a cup of cold tea to calm down.

 

Shen Ziqin lay on his pillow for a long time before sneaking a look at Chu Zhao.

 

By chance, Chu Zhao was looking at him too.

 

Shen Ziqin & Chu Zhao: !

 

They both whipped their heads away, immediately breaking eye contact-then felt ridiculous. Why act so guilty? It’s not like they’d done anything wrong.

 

So they both turned back at the same time, their eyes meeting in midair.

 

So in sync that their expressions collided.

 

In the silent room, one second, two seconds, three seconds passed-

 

Shen Ziqin and Chu Zhao nearly broke at the same time: “Pfft.”

 

They couldn’t explain why, but both of them just burst out laughing.

 

Their relaxed laughter swept away all the earlier awkwardness and sticky tension, and the stuffy heat finally dissipated. Shen Ziqin rolled over, pulled up the quilt to cover half his face, leaving only a pair of smiling eyes to meet Chu Zhao’s gaze.

 

No matter what, they’d gotten through this together-their first post-marriage “teamwork,” and it had gone pretty well.

 

Chu Zhao set down his teacup. “It’s late. You should get some sleep.”

 

Under the covers, Shen Ziqin nodded slightly and turned over.

 

Soon, the lights went out in the room. The bed creaked as the mattress next to him dipped-Chu Zhao had lain down too.

 

First night as roommates-late-night chatting is usually a good way to get closer, like those “dorm room night talks” at school. Shen Ziqin was still thinking if there was anything important he needed to bring up, but before he could finish, he drifted off to sleep.

 

Forget it… whatever it is, it can wait till tomorrow.

 

Shen Ziqin slept soundly.

 

He was comfortable now, but had no idea that trouble would be waiting for him when he opened his eyes the next morning.

 

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(advanced chapters available on kofi)