Chapter 3#
Favorability: Stop Liking His Majesty#
Today’s cream puffs were bitter.
Every single one of them.
Xiao Cuan sat upright at the desk, appearing perfectly composed.
In his right hand, he held a cinnabar brush, moving it like dragons and snakes to leave comments on the memorials. His left hand, however, reached beneath the imperial desk to press down on Yanzhi’s head.
Yanzhi was hunched over, kneeling before him, his cheeks and the rims of his eyes flushed a deep red.
The fifteen minutes weren’t up yet, and His Majesty wasn’t finished.
Xiao Cuan pressed down the final stroke of a memorial with heavy force, then tossed the brush aside. He reached out, gripped Yanzhi’s shoulders, and hauled him out from under the desk.
“Time is up.”
“Your Majesty…” Yanzhi covered his face with his sleeve, coughing softly. “Not yet.”
“I say it’s up, so it’s up.”
Xiao Cuan brushed aside the hand covering Yanzhi’s face and used his thumb to press against the bruised, reddened corners of his mouth.
“You didn’t do what I assigned you well. I didn’t come out; what should be done?”
“I…”
Yanzhi looked at the Emperor with hesitation, tentatively reaching out his hands to wrap them around his neck.
This time, His Majesty didn’t call him “idiot” again.
Yanzhi looked at the Emperor timidly, slowly leaning in.
Yanzhi wore only the thin inner robe of a palace attendant, while Xiao Cuan was still draped in armor.
Their eyes met, their breaths intermingling, exchanging heat and cold.
Only then did Yanzhi realize, albeit belatedly.
His Majesty purposely called him a little dog, purposely said those mean things to scare him, and purposely said he would teach him how to fight for favor—all of it was just for this.
Just for this thing.
His Majesty never admitted to his own heavy desires.
Yanzhi approached slowly, finally touching the Emperor’s lips with his warm ones, like a dragonfly skimming the water.
He whispered: “Is this what Your Majesty wanted me to do?”
Xiao Cuan’s breath hitched. He reached back and pressed the back of Yanzhi’s head, holding him tighter.
“You’re not entirely stupid.”
“Mm…”
Yanzhi sat astride the Emperor’s lap, his head held firmly by the Emperor, with nowhere to run, forced to tilt his head back and endure.
The way the Emperor kissed him was like going to war—violent and overbearing.
When Yanzhi was kissed until he could hardly breathe, a thought suddenly popped into his mind—
Did His Majesty hate him?
That’s why he was trying to kiss him to death.
Yanzhi dazed off for just a moment before Xiao Cuan suddenly picked him up.
His entire body was lifted into the air.
“Ah…”
Panic-stricken, Yanzhi instinctively clung to the Emperor’s neck.
By the time he came to his senses, the Emperor had already placed him on the imperial desk.
He was sitting directly on the memorials the Emperor had just finished reviewing. The wet cinnabar ink smeared a streak across his clothes.
“Your Majesty…”
Yanzhi realized what happened and clung tightly to Xiao Cuan’s neck, struggling to hold himself up, unwilling to sit down.
“What are you afraid of? It’s not a vat of boiling oil.” Xiao Cuan slowly pried his hands away, making him sit down. “Is it burning you?”
“No… it’s the memorials…” Yanzhi still tried to struggle. “The memorials from the ministers…”
“Indeed. Why are you sitting on the memorials sent by the ministers?” Xiao Cuan patted his face, asking intentionally: “Yanzhi, how dare you seduce me in a place like this?”
“I didn’t…”
“Naughty little dog.”
Xiao Cuan gave him no chance to argue. He undid his belt, reached inside, and gave him a pinch.
He gave Yanzhi one last scare: “Don’t move. If you ruin the memorials, I’ll have you castrated immediately.”
“—Just like neutering a little dog.”
Yanzhi’s body went limp. He no longer had the strength to argue, only letting out a “wu” sound as he tried his best to hold onto the Emperor.
He didn’t want to be castrated.
Xiao Cuan let out a low laugh but purposely opened his arms, no longer holding him.
Yanzhi could only hold on tighter, burying himself in the Emperor’s embrace and hanging onto him.
“No… Your Majesty, please don’t castrate me…”
“Depends on your performance.”
*
Two hours later.
Yanzhi hadn’t even eaten lunch. After being tossed around by the Emperor for so long, he leaned into the Emperor’s embrace with his eyes closed, looking completely drained.
But His Majesty refused to let him off. Holding him, he pinched his cheeks and gave them a hard shake, forcing him to open his eyes.
“See for yourself, look at what you’ve done.”
Yanzhi looked around blearily.
The main hall was a complete mess.
The inkstone that was originally on the desk had been kicked off at some point, shattering into pieces on the floor.
The cinnabar brush, which had been fine before, was now crushed beneath him, leaving streaks all over his clothes, its bristles all frayed.
And the memorials he cared about most—the ones sent by the officials—were also in a state of disarray because of him.
“What now?” Xiao Cuan asked him intentionally. “It’s turned into this; what do you think should be done?”
Yanzhi felt humiliated, but he truly had no energy left to think about what to do.
So he lowered his eyes and whispered: “I was wrong. Your Majesty can give me ten strokes of the board, just please don’t castrate me…”
Before he could finish, his head dropped, and he plunged into the Emperor’s embrace, silent and motionless.
He was just going to let the broken pot stay broken.
“Ten strokes of the board?” Xiao Cuan looked down at his docile, motionless form and let out a light laugh. “You said it yourself. Next time, it’ll be ten military strikes.”
Xiao Cuan held him with one hand and grabbed the scrap paper on the desk with the other, crumpling it into a ball and tossing it aside.
That’s right—the papers on the desk were all scrap, deliberately placed there by him to scare Yanzhi.
The reviewed memorials had long been set aside.
Yanzhi, the idiot, had been anxious for so long and still hadn’t noticed.
Xiao Cuan discarded the scrap paper, picked up Yanzhi, and walked toward the rear hall, feeling refreshed.
Yanzhi nestled in his arms, his hands tightly gripping the Emperor’s lapels, eyes closed and face wrinkled as if trying to fall asleep.
Xiao Cuan glanced at him and purposely jostled him, scaring him with a cold voice: “Wake up, don’t sleep. I’m taking you to the Cleanliness Room right now.”
“No…” Yanzhi woke up and shook his head. “Your Majesty promised me, I don’t need to be cleaned… I’m very good…”
“That was then, this is now. You still remember a promise I made so many years ago?”
“Ten years ago. Your Majesty promised me ten years ago,” Yanzhi replied softly. “Your Majesty’s words are like gold and jade; you cannot break your word…”
Xiao Cuan laughed: “I’ve already ’eaten’ even you; why can’t I eat my words?”
As they spoke, Xiao Cuan kicked open the doors to the rear hall.
Behind Taiji Palace, there was a hot spring pool with water drawn from the mountains, steaming year-round.
Not a single servant was in sight, but everything needed for bathing—hot towels, clean clothes, and minced meat porridge and milk to fill the stomach—was readily available.
Xiao Cuan carried Yanzhi into the water.
Xiao Cuan leaned against the edge of the pool, while Yanzhi leaned into his embrace.
Xiao Cuan held the porridge in one hand and took a large gulp, while his other hand reached into the water to help clean Yanzhi.
He was skilled and at ease.
The surface of the water swayed, and mist filled the air.
Before long, Xiao Cuan finished the porridge and had also finished cleaning Yanzhi.
He picked up the warm milk and held it in front of Yanzhi.
“Wake up, drink some anesthetic. I’ll castrate you in a moment; it won’t hurt when the knife hits.”
Yanzhi was frightened and turned his head away blearily, his refusal obvious.
Xiao Cuan let out a “tsk,” freed a hand to grip his chin, and forced him to open his mouth to pour the milk in.
“Drink.”
Yanzhi couldn’t resist and could only swallow it mouthful by mouthful.
Xiao Cuan poured too quickly, causing Yanzhi to cough. A small amount of milk overflowed from the corner of his lips and fell into the hot spring pool.
Xiao Cuan snorted: “I suppose I’m benefiting from you, getting a milk bath.”
He tossed the bowl aside, grabbed a dry towel, draped it over Yanzhi’s head, and rubbed it haphazardly.
Fifteen minutes later, Xiao Cuan, dressed in a thin robe, carried the damp Yanzhi back to the sleeping quarters.
The main hall was also devoid of servants, but the messy desk had already been tidied up.
Incense was burning in the hall, making it clean and orderly.
Xiao Cuan tossed Yanzhi onto the couch. As soon as Yanzhi touched the bed, he curled up and rolled to the innermost part of the bed.
Xiao Cuan frowned, quite dissatisfied: “I carried you back and forth, scrubbed you down, and even fed you milk. And look at you—turning your face away as if you don’t know me?”
“—Heartless little dog.”
With a “thud,” Xiao Cuan threw himself onto the bed, reached out to grab Yanzhi’s collar, and pulled him back out.
“Turn around! Hold me!”
“Mm…”
Yanzhi gave a muffled response. Feeling the Emperor’s body heat, he instinctively pressed closer, hugging his sturdy arm.
“Hold tighter, or I’ll send you to the Cleanliness Room to be castrated.”
Yanzhi paused, seemingly understanding. He stretched his arms further, hugging the Emperor’s waist and clinging to him, burying his face in the Emperor’s chest.
Xiao Cuan was just starting to feel satisfied when he heard Yanzhi mumble—
“Your Majesty… if Your Majesty castrates me, then I won’t like Your Majesty anymore…”
Xiao Cuan’s gaze darkened. He looked down at him: “What did you say? Say it again.”
Yanzhi had his eyes closed, clearly already asleep. He didn’t answer again, only making a “purring” sound like a kitten.
Xiao Cuan shook his head and pinched his cheek: “Idiot, do you even know what you’re saying?”
Yanzhi was sound asleep and couldn’t be woken no matter what. Xiao Cuan had no choice but to let it go for now.
He pinched the back of Yanzhi’s fragile neck, as if holding a unconscious small animal, forcing him to lift his head.
Xiao Cuan narrowed his eyes slightly. His cold gaze swept over his head, and as if seeing something, he let out a light snort, brimming with confidence.
“Not like me? The favorability points are so full they’re overflowing, yet you say you won’t like me?”
“Nonsense and lies. I’ll settle the score with you when you wake up.”
He released his grip, and Yanzhi’s head fell back onto his chest.
Yanzhi whimpered twice and shifted his body, adjusting to a comfortable position to sleep peacefully.
Xiao Cuan turned his head and shouted outside, ordering the servants to bring in the memorials he hadn’t yet reviewed.
A servant responded from outside, then pushed the doors open and brought the memorials in.
Xiao Cuan raised his hand and lowered the bed curtains, concealing the scene on the bed.
The servants kept their heads down, not daring to look, and left after putting everything down.
Xiao Cuan leaned against the bed, picked up a memorial, and was about to open it.
Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he seemed to see something unusual. He instinctively sat upright, brow furrowed, staring intently at Yanzhi’s face.
Yanzhi was asleep, but not peacefully.
His brow was slightly furrowed, as if being pulled by a dream filled with stray thoughts.
—If His Majesty castrates me, then I won’t like His Majesty anymore.
—No, His Majesty is only scaring me. I still have to like His Majesty.
—If His Majesty calls me ’little dog’ again, then I won’t like His Majesty anymore.
—No, His Majesty’s mouth is just stubborn but his heart is soft. I still have to like His Majesty.
—But His Majesty is always scaring me and bullying me. I won’t like His Majesty anymore.
—No, His Majesty saved my life and gave me snacks. I still have to like His Majesty.
—His Majesty is going to hold a selection. His Majesty will soon have an Empress and noble concubines. I can’t like His Majesty anymore…
—I can’t… I can’t…
“Is the favorability detector broken?”
Xiao Cuan remained silent for a moment before finally slapping Yanzhi’s face.
“Idiot, or is it your brain that’s broken?”