This morning, Shen Ziqin had managed to get up, breaking free from the bed’s grip.
He couldn’t remember the details-it was all a blur, like a dream. The warm bed behind him never stopped trying to pull him back, but with sheer willpower, he managed to get out.
Getting dressed was a haze, eating breakfast was a haze; only the bitterness of his medicine jolted him briefly awake.
That brief moment of clarity carried him all the way onto the carriage.
Shen Ziqin, in a daze: I got up!
I knew I could do it-how could I possibly fail at just getting out of bed!
I’m going to wait for Chu Zhao to arrive, let him see how energetic I am, erase yesterday’s embarrassing image, redeem myself, and then go to court tomorrow.
Thinking these thoughts, Shen Ziqin drifted right off to sleep.
His dream blurred with reality; he dreamed he was heading to court, but the palace gates were so far, the steps so high, his legs had no strength, and after ages he seemed to move only a little.
Shen Ziqin panted, pressed his lips together, and kept moving forward-when suddenly, a hand grabbed him hard from behind.
Shen Ziqin turned, pupils contracting sharply.
…It was his gambler father.
The one from the modern world.
Lost in the dream, not knowing where he was, unable to distinguish illusion from reality, Shen Ziqin felt his heart stop. He tried to shake off the gambler’s grip, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t break free.
His chest ached. “Let go!”
The gambler was still wearing his filthy, unwashed shirt, messy beard, bloodshot eyes locked onto Shen Ziqin. “Where the hell have you been? Why don’t you care about me! The debt collectors came and beat me up, do you know that?!”
Like I care. If they beat you to death, good riddance!
Shen Ziqin tried to pry off the gambler’s hand, but that claw seemed welded to his arm-he hurt his own hand but couldn’t budge it.
When he was a child, the gambler often lost his temper and beat him-sometimes because he lost, sometimes because debt collectors were after him. Whatever the reason, Shen Ziqin was always the punching bag.
He was often beaten black and blue; once, a teacher tried to intervene but was scared off by the gambler.
When he was ten, Shen Ziqin fought back for the first time. As the gambler swung at him, he struck back.
Somehow, in that frail body, he found the strength and fury to smash a liquor bottle and point the jagged glass at the gambler.
“If it comes to it, we’ll die together.” Little Shen Ziqin’s hands shook, but his eyes were fierce, not backing down at all.
The gambler hadn’t expected resistance and was shocked-finally realizing this kid was growing up to fight back. After that, Shen Ziqin’s life got a bit better.
The gambler never cared about Shen Ziqin’s studies. He actually wanted him to quit school and work to pay off debts. The school and social workers tried to intervene, but failed; it was only thanks to kind neighbors that things changed. They told the gambler, “If Ziqin gets into a good school, he’ll earn more later.”
That was the only reason the gambler didn’t force him to drop out, but he still refused to pay for any school fees-neighbors always helped cover them.
After graduating high school, the first money Shen Ziqin earned at work went to buy fruit baskets and nice food for those neighbors-things he’d never eaten himself, all to repay their kindness.
“Why are you here?” Shen Ziqin growled, yanking at the gambler’s hand. “I clearly already-”
Shen Ziqin froze.
Right, I transmigrated-how could he be here?
The palace of Great Qi, himself in ancient robes, but the gambler in a short-sleeved shirt.
…It’s a dream?
“…Shizi…”
Someone seemed to be calling him.
“Shen Shizi!”
Shen Ziqin jerked awake, gasping, cold sweat on his forehead, heart pounding so hard his ears buzzed.
Someone brushed his forehead, speaking softly: “Nightmare?”
…Chu Zhao.
So it really was a dream.
Realizing this, Shen Ziqin’s tense body relaxed. He closed his eyes, calmed his breathing, and when he opened them again, he was fully awake.
“Just now I… huh?”
He’d only gotten half a sentence out before freezing.
At first, still shaken from the nightmare, he hadn’t noticed, but now that he was fully awake, he couldn’t ignore the situation: Why were they in this position?
Why was he sitting in Chu Zhao’s lap!?
He was sitting sideways on Chu Zhao’s legs, with Chu Zhao’s arm around his waist and back-a very intimate posture.
Shen Ziqin looked at Chu Zhao, then down at Chu Zhao’s arm, dazed: “…Your Highness, I don’t sleepwalk, do I?”
There’s no way I climbed into your arms myself, right??
His gaze was so direct that Chu Zhao coughed lightly and explained, “We’ve arrived at the East Villa. You were sleeping so soundly, I wanted to carry you down, but then you suddenly frowned, like you were having a nightmare, so I woke you up.”
Shen Ziqin, trembling: “Carry-how?”
Chu Zhao hadn’t thought anything of it-Shen Ziqin was frail and needed care; it was normal to carry him while he slept. But facing the newly-awake Shen Ziqin, especially meeting his eyes, Chu Zhao suddenly felt awkward and self-conscious. “Just… with both arms?”
Shen Ziqin was stunned.
Isn’t that a princess carry!?
He quickly scrambled off Chu Zhao’s lap, moving so fast he nearly hit his head on the carriage roof-Chu Zhao, quick as ever, shielded his head with a hand: “Careful!”
“Mm!”
Shen Ziqin lost his balance and had to grab Chu Zhao’s shoulder to steady himself. The two spoke at the same time-
Shen Ziqin: “Is your hand okay?”
Chu Zhao: “Did you hurt yourself?”
Their eyes met, and both fell silent.
The earlier strange tension vanished, and both were amused by the sudden mishap.
Gentle smiles spread across their faces. This time, they both learned their lesson and slowly stepped back to avoid another accident.
Just then, outside the carriage, Hei Ying knocked on the window.
Your Highness, Shizi, is everything alright?”
He’d heard a “thud” just now, and the carriage had stopped for a moment, but neither of them had emerged.
Just as Hei Ying was about to speak again, the carriage curtain lifted and Chu Zhao stepped out.
Chu Zhao waved a hand at Hei Ying, who immediately understood there was nothing to ask and bowed before leaving. Chu Zhao jumped down first, and Shen Ziqin followed behind.
As soon as Chu Zhao raised his hand, Shen Ziqin naturally placed his own in it.
Afterward, Shen Ziqin paused in surprise.
…At first, being helped up and down by Chu Zhao had felt awkward, but now, in such a short time, he’d gotten used to it.
Chu Zhao helped him down and, seeing his dazed expression, casually asked, “What’s wrong?”
Shen Ziqin gave him a complicated look. “…Nothing.”
He just felt he’d gone from frugal to spoiled-how decadent.
Dongzhuang was a Qin Prince’s estate on the outskirts of the capital, backed by green mountains, with peach trees planted all around. Now in full bloom, the hills behind were a sea of flowers, like a fairyland.
Nearby, the Qin Prince’s fields were leased to tenant farmers whose families lived in a small village not far off, living simple, peaceful lives-working at sunrise, resting at sunset.
Standing by the path, Shen Ziqin was brushed by a gentle breeze. The swaying peach blossoms were refreshing, dispelling the remnants of his nightmare.
What a wonderful place, truly uplifting.
Chu Zhao came to stand beside him: “Shall we take a walk nearby?”
Shen Ziqin nodded. Chu Zhao gestured to Hei Ying: “Take Feixue for a walk.”
Feixue was his warhorse, who had followed Chu Zhao through life and death. Energetic and spirited, it needed regular exercise, so Chu Zhao had brought it out today.
At the mention, Shen Ziqin turned to look at Feixue.
He’d admired Feixue the first time he saw it-such a beautiful horse, glossy and smooth, silver-white like snow. As Hei Ying led the horse past, the shining coat made Shen Ziqin want to reach out and touch it.
So he asked, “Can I pet Feixue?”
Hei Ying paused, and Chu Zhao raised a brow: “Of course, just a moment.”
He walked over, patted Feixue’s face, rubbed its neck, gave a whistle, and then pointed at Shen Ziqin, as if communicating with the horse.
Feixue stared at Shen Ziqin with big dark eyes, then neighed and pawed the ground.
Chu Zhao smiled, patted the horse again, then turned to Shen Ziqin: “Come.”
Shen Ziqin, fascinated by Chu Zhao’s way with the horse, felt Feixue was even more intelligent. He walked forward, and under Chu Zhao’s smiling gaze, carefully reached out and stroked the horse’s back.
Ah, just as he’d imagined-the feel was wonderful!
Shen Ziqin’s eyes lit up, and he couldn’t help but stroke it a few more times. His touch was gentle, and Feixue clearly enjoyed it, tossing its head and shaking its mane.
Seeing Shen Ziqin’s delight, Chu Zhao seemed to understand: “Shizi, would you like to try riding?”
Hei Ying was surprised: The prince was actually letting someone else ride Feixue!
Warhorses develop a special bond with their masters and can be quite particular. Feixue, for all its snowy elegance, was a spirited horse-no one but Chu Zhao could ride it. Chu Zhao also spoiled it and rarely let anyone else share its saddle unless it was urgent.
Shen Ziqin turned abruptly: “Really?!”
He probably didn’t realize how bright his eyes were at that moment. Chu Zhao had never seen him look so eager, except when tasting delicious pastries. Chu Zhao’s lips curved: “Of course you can.”
Shen Ziqin was about to agree, but suddenly remembered something and hesitated.
“Um…” His excitement faded a little. “I don’t know how to ride.”
“You can learn,” Chu Zhao said easily. “I’ll teach you.”
Feixue seemed to understand, turning its head and snorting, stamping its hooves nervously. Chu Zhao patted its neck: “Easy, this one’s okay, remember.”
Feixue’s eyes reflected Shen Ziqin’s image. Shen Ziqin, a bit nervous, saw the horse blink and settle down.
That was agreement.
Chu Zhao, satisfied, reached out a hand: “Come, Shizi.”
Shen Ziqin, both happy and anxious, stepped closer. With Chu Zhao’s guidance, he stepped into the stirrup and mounted smoothly with Chu Zhao’s support.
Anyone who loves ancient stories has dreamed of riding a horse-now, sitting high in the saddle, Shen Ziqin’s view soared, and the new experience was exhilarating.
“Hold the reins tight, lift them up, but not too tight. Control the horse with moderate strength. Let’s start slow-use your legs to gently squeeze the horse’s belly-yes, just like that, Shizi.”
Chu Zhao was a patient teacher. As he spoke, he took the reins from Hei Ying and led Feixue himself, walking ahead as the horse’s guide.
They walked along the field path, deeper into the peach orchard. The horse’s hooves stirred up fragrance, and as Shen Ziqin swayed gently in the saddle, he felt a little nervous, but the slight thrill was just right-it let him forget his worries and enjoy the moment.
Chu Zhao led the horse ahead, his figure upright and elegant. It was hard to say whether the scenery set off the man, or the man set off the scenery-but both were beautiful.
At the perfect moment, Chu Zhao spoke: “So, what nightmare did you have earlier?”
Shen Ziqin held the reins and smiled: “I forgot.”
It didn’t matter.
This era had its flaws-backward, feudal, a world apart from the modern age-but Shen Ziqin was lucky.
In a difficult place, he’d met the best people.
With peach blossoms all around, the nightmares of the past could be left behind.
Chu Zhao didn’t look back, but heard the ease in Shen Ziqin’s tone and smiled: “Good.”
In the nearby mountains, the peach blossoms were in full bloom. After a while, the path opened onto a wide road. Feixue, excited, tossed its head, clearly wanting to run, and Shen Ziqin unconsciously let the horse pick up speed.
Sensing the excitement of both horse and rider, Chu Zhao reined in and stopped, turning to meet Shen Ziqin’s eyes: “Shizi, want to try a run?”
Shen Ziqin nodded emphatically. “Mm!”
Chu Zhao smiled, then with a light push of his foot, leapt onto the horse. He moved so quickly that Shen Ziqin didn’t even catch the motion-just felt a rush of wind, and before he realized it, a solid chest was pressed against his back.
Chu Zhao sat behind Shen Ziqin, took hold of the reins, and wrapped his arms around him, enclosing Shen Ziqin completely in his embrace.
Shen Ziqin’s grip on the reins tightened, unsure if it was nerves about the gallop to come or discomfort with such close proximity.
Noticing his tense hands, Chu Zhao leaned in a little. “Don’t worry, you won’t fall. Sit tight, Shizi-let’s go!”
With that, Chu Zhao flicked the reins. Feixue tossed its head and neighed joyfully, then burst forward at a full gallop!
Shen Ziqin’s heart leapt into his throat-he couldn’t help but cry out, but as the wind whipped past and the horse thundered beneath them, his cries turned to laughter, louder and freer with every hoofbeat.
How many times in a lifetime can you ride like this, laughing and racing through the world?
Chu Zhao couldn’t see Shen Ziqin’s face, but though he was used to life on horseback, even he felt his blood stir with excitement at this run-his heart pounded like a war drum, echoing with Shen Ziqin’s laughter in his ears.
The wind was fierce, whistling around them, yet gentle as it swept fallen petals from the roadside, softly tangling them in Shen Ziqin’s hair.
Amidst the wind and flying blossoms, both Shen Ziqin and Chu Zhao thought the same thing: If only this road never ended, if only they could keep riding like this forever-how wonderful that would be.
—
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(advanced chapters available on kofi)
