Chapter 1#

[First Life]#

Before my buddy fell in love with my brother, I thought I was the luckiest transmigrator in the world.

Actually, calling him “buddy” is flattering myself a bit.

The truth is, he is the current Crown Prince, and I am the second son of the Prime Minister and the Crown Prince’s study companion.

When I transmigrated to this fictional dynasty, the original owner of this body—who unfortunately slipped, fell into the water, and died, allowing me to take advantage of the situation—was only seven years old. Meanwhile, his older brother from the same mother was already twelve, the eldest legitimate son, and extremely talented.

His parents—ah, no, my parents—were deeply in love. Ever since my father married his mentor’s only daughter right after becoming the top scholar (Zhuangyuan), they have been inseparable. Let alone concubines, you couldn’t even find a young, beautiful maid in the house.

The family was wealthy and noble, my parents had a deep affection for each other, and there was a kind and respectful brother above me. This created favorable conditions for me to become a hedonistic silk-pants son.

Actually, I had no choice but to be a silk-pants.

The one sitting on the dragon throne has always been suspicious. If his son, my buddy, weren’t his only son, I reckon he would have held off on naming a Crown Prince until the day before he died.

My father was already the Prime Minister and very popular. My brother had been a child prodigy since he was young, and it was clear that he would pass the imperial exams with flying colors before he turned fifteen. If I were to display my transmigrator’s abilities, that wouldn’t be called “three heroes in one family”; that would be called “putting eye drops in the Emperor’s eyes” (making the Emperor uncomfortable).

To be honest, as a coder, I didn’t really have any transmigrator abilities to display anyway.

Unless I studied the classics diligently and displayed the wisdom and emotional intelligence of a twenty-something in the body of a seven-year-old.

But, I’m lazy.

So, with the right timing, place, and people, the hedonistic second young master of the Prime Minister’s family was born.

Calling me a silk-pants is actually a bit unjust.

I feel that compared to the dream lovers of those young maidens in the capital, the only difference is that they study, and I don’t really study.

If I dared to go to a brothel, a gambling house, or forcibly take a commoner girl, I reckon my dad would beat me half to death with his belt, and my mom wouldn’t even apply medicine for me.

However, because I have a dad who became the top scholar at twenty and a brother who became the third-ranking scholar (Tanhua) at fifteen, and I just play around without studying much, being treated as a silk-pants is unjust, but not that unjust.

My brother became a Tanhua. The Emperor praised him for a long time for being young and promising, complimented my father for teaching his son well, and then appointed me as the study companion to his only son.

My father was panicked because his son was incompetent.

My brother was panicked because his younger brother was incompetent.

I was also panicked because I guessed that the one on the dragon throne was afraid that the Crown Prince would be too powerful in his prime while the Emperor was old. So he found an incompetent me to influence his son, so his son wouldn’t become too capable.

In the Emperor’s official edict, he ordered the Crown Prince’s tutors to treat me well and not to punish me unless I made a major mistake. I knew I had guessed right.

But by then, I was no longer panicked, because the Crown Prince, who was a year younger than me, was damn good-looking.

A nine-year-old doll—looking at his face, you knew what kind of handsome guy he would be in the future, tugging at the heartstrings of thousands of young girls.

Perhaps also some young boys.

For example, me.

Yes, I am gay.

But I have a bottom line; I am not a pedophile.

I think the Crown Prince is good-looking, purely from an appreciative angle.

Just like some older women like certain young idols, you think he is beautiful, but you don’t want to kiss or sleep with him.

What? You do.

You are so dirty.

Back to the topic.

Ever since I became the Crown Prince’s study companion, I have lived a happy life of eating and playing at home, and eating, looking at a beautiful boy, and playing in the palace.

You ask about the job of a Crown Prince’s study companion?

Didn’t I stay by his side while the Crown Prince was studying… eating and playing?

The Crown Prince was very envious that I didn’t have to study and just played without being disciplined by the tutors. He wanted to slack off and learn from me.

For the sake of his exceptionally good-looking face, I went against the Emperor’s original intention and told him privately: “When my father passes away, what I know now is enough for me to manage the servants and the property I get from the family division. Can you say the same?”

He obviously couldn’t.

So he went back to studying hard.

I was a study companion by the Crown Prince’s side for five years, watching him grow step by step into a Crown Prince and eldest imperial son who was both civil and martial, and forbearing.

Yes, the Imperial Noble Consort, who was at odds with his mother, gave birth to a son for the Emperor, who was nearing fifty, years ago. So the Crown Prince was downgraded from the only son to the eldest son.

The Imperial Noble Consort’s son was very favored, the kind of favored that could shake the fence-sitters in the Crown Prince’s party.

The Crown Prince was feeling a bit down. My attempts to comfort him were fruitless, so finally, I had to use the ultimate weapon and took him on a disguised tour to change his mood.

This disguised tour ruined everything.

First, we happened to run into a fierce wife from a wealthy family catching her husband’s lover kept outside, and it was a man. So, a window to male-male romance was opened for the Crown Prince.

Second, we happened to run into my brother and his friends meeting friends through poetry in a teahouse. My brother, who was like a jade tree and full of literary talent, opened the door for the Crown Prince.

Don’t ask me how I could tell the Crown Prince liked my brother. I’m not blind.

When my brother freely and elegantly recited that poem which won the applause of the whole room, the eyes of this buddy beside me lit up.

I had been by his side for five years and had never seen his eyes shine so brightly.

The drama of a handsome Crown Prince falling in love with a Tanhua academician—if it were published as a book, I would buy it regardless of who was the top or bottom.

But in reality, it won’t work. Not only can I not accept this recommendation, but I also have to break up the CP.

Let alone how difficult it is to have a Happy Ending (HE) in a male-male romance with the Crown Prince of a country and future Emperor in a realistic setting. Even without other obstacles, the fact that my brother is straight is enough to block all roads.

Moreover, my brother has a fiancée he has liked since childhood. They have been childhood sweethearts for so many years, just waiting for the other party to finish the mourning period in two years to quickly marry her home.