SBMT Chapter 39

The courtyard fell silent, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Only Shen Ziqin, face flushed, slept soundly in Chu Zhao’s arms.

 

Chu Zhao looked down at the person in his arms, his expression nearly slipping.

 

…Well, ridiculous as it was, being drunk was still better than being poisoned.

 

But did the heir really not know his own limits? How could a one-cup lightweight dare to down it all in one go?

 

Dinner was out of the question now. Chu Zhao lifted him up and told Xiao Zhen, “Go make some hangover soup… Xiao Zhen?”

 

Usually, when the master gave an order, Xiao Zhen would spring into action. But now he stood there, eyes glazed, staring at Shen Ziqin and Chu Zhao as if his soul had left his body. That look made Chu Zhao’s scalp tingle, and out of a warrior’s protective instinct, he pulled Shen Ziqin closer.

 

Xiao Zhen clutched his chest and staggered back a step.

 

Chu Zhao tightened his hold on Shen Ziqin. “…Are you not feeling well?”

 

Hei Ying quietly tugged Xiao Zhen’s arm: “Wake up, the prince has asked you twice!”

 

Xiao Zhen snapped out of it, clutching his chest and trembling, “I’m fine, I’ll go make the hangover soup!”

 

He turned and ran, still holding his chest. Chu Zhao suspected he really wasn’t well and told Hei Ying, “Go check on him. If he’s really unwell, don’t force it-get someone else to help.”

 

Hei Ying accepted the order and quickly caught up with Xiao Zhen. As he got close, he heard Xiao Zhen sobbing.

 

Hei Ying was startled, thinking something serious had happened, and hurried over-

 

Xiao Zhen: “Wuwuwu, what a beautiful scene, they love each other so much, ahhh let the prince and heir hug a little longer!”

 

Hei Ying stopped dead, nearly tripping.

 

He steadied himself, stood there speechless for a moment, then decisively turned and walked away.

 

…Maybe Xiao Zhen really was sick, but there was no cure for this. Better to leave him be.

 

Chu Zhao carried Shen Ziqin back to the bedroom. Shen Ziqin kept his eyes closed until Chu Zhao laid him down, and as soon as his head hit the pillow, the previously motionless heir turned his head slightly and let out a soft, uncomfortable sound.

 

Chu Zhao paused, leaning over the bed to look at him: “Shizi?”

 

Shen Ziqin whimpered, then after a moment, cracked his eyes open a little.

 

His bright eyes shimmered with spring water, his face flushed with wine, the drunkenness soaking into his bones. The heir had been completely undone by a single cup, transformed into a living, breathing love spell.

 

Anyone who looked at him would find themselves quietly intoxicated.

 

Chu Zhao’s fingers unconsciously tightened.

 

So a beautiful face really could be a lethal weapon-lesson learned.

 

He took a breath, withdrew his hand from under Shen Ziqin’s neck, and was about to call for some food-while the heir was awake, he wanted to feed him a little.

 

But just as he moved, the drunkard grabbed his sleeve.

 

Chu Zhao wasn’t prepared and was pulled down, his high ponytail swinging, a few strands falling onto Shen Ziqin’s pale neck.

 

Shen Ziqin felt a tickle and shrank back.

 

Chu Zhao’s eyes widened; he didn’t dare move.

 

There was less than a hand’s width between their noses.

 

So close…

 

Especially with Shen Ziqin’s face suddenly so near, the flush at the corners of his eyes was utterly enchanting, making Chu Zhao’s heart race uncontrollably.

 

Chu Zhao truly lived up to his title as marshal, maintaining the composure of a great general even as his blood boiled-calmly thinking: I’m about to explode.

 

Shen Ziqin’s gaze drifted, unable to see clearly, so he simply reached out and touched the face right in front of him: “…Chu Zhao?”

 

He usually only called me “Your Highness”-this was the first time he’d used my name.

 

Chu Zhao’s heart beat even more wildly. He could feel the softness and coolness of that gentle hand on his cheek, and his mind grew even calmer: Exploding.

 

Talk properly-why the hands? Chu Zhao forced himself to think coldly: I’ve even resisted pinching your face!

 

Shen Ziqin’s jade-like fingers stroked his face, and just as he was about to lean closer, Chu Zhao’s internal alarm blared. He quickly pulled back and tried to stop the drunk’s actions: “Mm, it’s me.”

 

Shen Ziqin, eyes half-closed, let his head fall back with a groan: “Ugh, so dizzy.”

 

In Chu Zhao’s mind, two little figures appeared-one screaming at him to run, the other holding him back. But as soon as Shen Ziqin showed discomfort, the screaming one was instantly flung away, and the balance tipped completely.

 

Chu Zhao curled his fingers, and, almost resigned, leaned closer: “Want me to rub your temples?”

 

Shen Ziqin whimpered.

 

Chu Zhao’s gaze grew steady for a moment; he reached out and gently massaged Shen Ziqin’s temples.

 

A skilled hand makes all the difference-Shen Ziqin relaxed under his touch, even unconsciously leaning closer, rubbing against Chu Zhao’s palm.

 

Chu Zhao: “……”

 

This battle was truly perilous!

 

Marshal Chu had faced life and death countless times, but this was among the most dangerous-he immediately stopped his massage.

 

Sensing the pause, Shen Ziqin opened his eyes in confusion, all misty and unfocused.

 

He didn’t understand, so he lifted his flushed fingers and, following the sensation, grabbed Chu Zhao’s hand, feeling it from fingertips to palm as if to confirm it was real.

 

Chu Zhao sucked in a sharp breath, but the air burned as it entered his chest.

 

A drunk cat that won’t sleep-playing with fire!

 

After a while, Shen Ziqin seemed satisfied, nodding as if he’d found a good hand. He pulled Chu Zhao’s hand closer with both of his own: “Chu Zhao… don’t die.”

 

Even as he felt like he was burning up, Chu Zhao couldn’t help but laugh-what nonsense was this drunk talking? Wasn’t he alive and well?

 

“I won’t-won’t let you die.” Shen Ziqin clutched Chu Zhao’s hand, murmuring, “…If you die, there won’t be anyone else in this world who’s so good to me…”

 

That half-dream, half-awake mumble hit Chu Zhao right in the heart. He stared down in a daze, his tense hand slowly relaxing, then tentatively squeezed Shen Ziqin’s fingers back. After a while, he let out a hoarse laugh: “…It’s not that dramatic.”

 

With his free hand, Chu Zhao brushed Shen Ziqin’s hair aside: “If there really was a second person who treated you this well, would you also…”

 

Would you what? Chu Zhao didn’t finish. He realized he didn’t want to know the answer. Just then, Xiao Zhen arrived with the hangover soup, waiting outside the door.

 

Chu Zhao straightened up: “Come in.”

 

Xiao Zhen entered and saw their hands clasped together, his eyes sparkling, but he didn’t dare make a sound, afraid his excitement would disturb the atmosphere.

 

What a lucky day-he’d had his fill of sweet scenes!

 

Chu Zhao had wanted to feed Shen Ziqin himself, but Hei Ying knocked at the door: “Your Highness, there’s a letter from the northwest.”

 

A letter from the border was something Chu Zhao had to check personally and promptly, so he paused, hand halfway to the bowl, and told Xiao Zhen, “Feed the soup to Shizi.”

 

Xiao Zhen, seeing Chu Zhao’s hesitation, was a bit disappointed.

 

Chu Zhao left to get the letter. Xiao Zhen set down the tray, helped Shen Ziqin sit up. The heir, even drunk, was well-behaved-his drunkenness matched his usual personality.

 

He propped Shen Ziqin up, but the heir had little strength and slid down halfway.

 

He’d been holding Chu Zhao’s warm hand, which felt so good, and now that warmth was gone-he wasn’t used to it, so he frowned and grabbed at the blanket instead. It didn’t feel right, but he instinctively pulled it up to cover himself.

 

Xiao Zhen, preparing the soup, looked back and felt his heart melt at the sight.

 

He carefully scooped up some hangover soup and brought it to Shen Ziqin’s lips: “Shizi, here.”

 

Shen Ziqin opened his mouth automatically, swallowing the spoonful of soup.

 

Feeding him was easier than Xiao Zhen expected-Shen Ziqin was completely cooperative, only mumbling after a few spoonfuls: “Chu Zhao, I won’t let you die.”

 

Xiao Zhen was startled, then chuckled softly, thinking it was just drunken nonsense-but even his drunken words were about caring for the prince.

 

“Shizi, the prince is fine.”

 

Shen Ziqin took another sip: “I-I can do it…” He repeated it, then as if it wasn’t enough, muttered again in English, “I can do it…”

 

He mumbled so softly that Xiao Zhen only caught the first word, which sounded like “love.”

 

Xiao Zhen: …He’s so in love!

 

Along with the hangover soup, Xiao Zhen also brought a bowl of porridge. After the soup, while Shen Ziqin was still awake, he tried to feed him some porridge, but just as he was about to switch bowls, Chu Zhao returned, and Xiao Zhen quickly gave up his seat.

 

Chu Zhao held a wooden letter tube. Xiao Zhen beamed at him: “Your Highness, even drunk, Shizi kept talking about how much he cares for you. Ah-”

 

He ended with a little flourish, catching Chu Zhao off guard. Chu Zhao nearly dropped the letter tube, but his reflexes were sharp and he caught it, performing a solo juggling act.

 

Chu Zhao: ?

 

He’d only gone to get a letter-how had the plot jumped ahead by 800 episodes in just a few minutes?

 

Shen Ziqin loves him-what!???

 

Clutching the letter tube, Chu Zhao’s heart soared, refusing to come down, but outwardly he remained calm, his voice steady: “…He really said that?”

 

Xiao Zhen blushed: “Shizi’s exact words were even more direct-I can’t repeat them, but Shizi really cares about you, Your Highness.”

 

 

Xiao Zhen said “cherish,” but Shen Ziqin’s original words were “love”-isn’t that even more direct?

 

After saying this, Xiao Zhen smiled and quietly backed out, thoughtfully closing the door behind him, leaving Chu Zhao in a state of utter confusion.

 

There was no wind in the room, but inside, Chu Zhao’s heart was roaring like a gale, threatening to blow this block of wood in every direction.

 

Chu Zhao almost mechanically sat down, picked up the bowl of porridge, and blankly lifted a spoonful to feed Shen Ziqin.

 

But Shen Ziqin didn’t say a word, just leaned drunkenly against the headboard, quietly sliding further under the covers.

 

Chu Zhao was left in turmoil for a long time before he finally managed to speak in a daze: “You… like me?”

 

Shen Ziqin’s dazed eyes blinked, saying nothing, looking completely innocent.

 

Chu Zhao couldn’t help leaning closer: “Do you really like me?”

 

This time he got so close that Shen Ziqin, struggling to focus, finally reacted: “…Who likes who?”

 

“You-” Chu Zhao swallowed, deciding to follow the drunk’s logic and rephrased, “That is, does Shen Ziqin like Chu Zhao?”

 

As soon as he said it, Chu Zhao thought to himself how shameless that sounded, but fortunately there was only a drunk in front of him-if he wasn’t embarrassed, it wouldn’t be awkward.

 

“Chu Zhao…” Shen Ziqin seemed to latch onto the keyword, and with a little “ah,” said, “Chu Zhao likes men.”

 

Chu Zhao: Hm?

 

Shen Ziqin tilted his head, his voice growing even more slurred. From under the covers, he waved a finger: “Don’t… worry! Chu Zhao deserves the best-looking man in the world-he’ll definitely have a happy, lifelong match!”

 

In the past, Chu Zhao had been recognized as the most handsome man in Great Qi, but after Shen Ziqin appeared, he’d taken the top spot. Still, Chu Zhao thought there could never be anyone more beautiful than Shen Ziqin.

 

His hand holding the spoon trembled slightly.

 

What was the difference between what Shen Ziqin just said and handing himself over directly?

 

Even if Shen Ziqin had moved on from Bai Junxing, wasn’t this a bit too fast for a change of heart?

 

Or had he misunderstood from the start, and Shen Ziqin had only ever wanted to be friends with Bai Junxing, never having any other intentions?

 

The lamplight flickered in the room, illuminating two flushed faces-one drunk, the other… well, why was he blushing and hot?

 

Chu Zhao struggled to open his mouth, but just then, Shen Ziqin slid further under the covers, closed his eyes, and fell asleep again, breathing evenly.

 

Chu Zhao was left reeling from the shock, but only he was left awake, tormented.

 

Half the porridge was left uneaten. He sat in the room for a while, wiped Shen Ziqin’s mouth with a handkerchief, tucked him back in, and left on unsteady feet.

 

Out in the courtyard, the night breeze did little to cool the heat in his chest, but at least his mind cleared a bit.

 

Looking down, he saw the flowers blooming in the courtyard, swaying gracefully.

 

So many flowers have meanings tied to love.

 

Staring at the beautiful blossoms, with his mind racing, all the thoughts in Chu Zhao’s mind were swept away, leaving only one sentence on the black screen:

 

It’s over-Shen Ziqin wants to be in love with you.

 

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(advanced chapters available on kofi)