Shangguan Ye edged closer, resting his head on Murong Qiufeng’s shoulder and nuzzling his neck. He muttered in a low voice, “It hurts a bit.”
Murong Qiufeng immediately panicked, unsure where to put his hands and feet. “Did the wound reopen? I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to—let me call Xiao You!”
“No need. It’s not the wound.”
Shangguan Ye’s hand slid down Qiufeng’s waist and roamed lazily along his back, his whole demeanor listless and pitiful.
Qiufeng grew even more anxious. “If it’s not the wound, then what is it? Do you have internal injuries?”
As he spoke, he moved to check him.
Their hands shifted. Shangguan Ye pulled his hand free, then grabbed Qiufeng’s and guided it somewhere on his body. “It’s here,” he said. “Hurts a lot. Says it’s… really hungry~”
Qiufeng froze like he’d been struck by lightning. Then his entire face erupted like a volcano. His hand had landed on something hard and burning hot—even through the clothes, the heat was obvious. His dazed expression twisted in disbelief.
“Shangguan Ye! Don’t you have any shame?!”
Outside, the others were still speculating over what might be hurting the prince. Xiao You frowned, wondering if they’d missed a hidden wound. Then they heard Qiufeng’s indignant shout and suddenly it all clicked. Everyone fell into awkward silence, expressions stiff with disbelief. Your Highness, could you be any more shameless?
“Heh. Shame won’t help me now,” Shangguan Ye said breezily. “Can’t blame me, you’re just too tempting. I’m a normal man—how could I not react?”
He even rubbed against him again, deliberately.
Qiufeng yanked his hand back like it had been burned, his face thunderous. He wanted to kick him off the bed.
But this time, the movement was too much—Shangguan Ye gasped sharply, his face contorting in real pain.
Unfortunately, Qiufeng didn’t believe him anymore. He quickly distanced himself, eyes full of suspicion: Don’t even try to lie to me again.
Shangguan Ye broke into a sweat, clutching his chest and panting.
Qiufeng’s expression wavered with uncertainty, but he still looked like a startled kitten, tense and on guard. “Stop sitting up—just lie back down.”
Shangguan Ye slowly raised his head, his pale face full of helplessness. “How could you be so heartless, little one?”
“Just—ugh, lie down already!”
Qiufeng’s brow furrowed, but then his eyes widened as he saw red seeping through the white bandages on Ye’s chest. His pupils contracted.
“You—you’re still bleeding! Lie down!”
With a frustrated growl, he lunged forward, grabbing Ye’s shoulders and forcing him to lie flat. Seeing the fresh blood, his heart clenched with anxiety. “Stop moving! I’m calling Xiao You!”
“Don’t go. I’m fine, really. Just a sharp pain,” Shangguan Ye said, grabbing his arm to keep him from getting off the bed.
Qiufeng glared at him. “Fine? You keep saying I can’t stay still—but look at you! If you don’t behave, you’ll never get to touch me again!”
“…Oof.”
Shangguan Ye rubbed his nose, cowed by the threat. Qiufeng’s temper had real bite, and the warning was genuinely terrifying. But he still couldn’t help but smile.
“Alright, alright. I won’t move. But I’m seriously suffering here. You know how it is… I’m injured, I don’t have the strength to fight it. You studied medicine—you should know this kind of buildup isn’t good. If I end up impotent, what then?”
He pulled Qiufeng’s hand back to where it had been, speaking with exaggerated shamelessness.
Qiufeng’s face went white, then red, completely flustered. He hesitated, eyebrows knitting as his gaze wandered despite himself.
Shangguan Ye saw the hesitation and lit up. Hooked. Time to press the advantage.
“We don’t have to go all the way… Just your hand, maybe?” he said, scratching the back of Qiufeng’s hand suggestively.
Qiufeng recoiled like he’d been shocked. It was as if his hand were linked to his heartbeat, both reacting together. His face burned hotter. “That—how could I… I don’t even know how—!”
Shangguan Ye raised an eyebrow wickedly and glanced downward. “Don’t tell me you’ve never done it yourself?”
Qiufeng almost exploded, yelling, “Not everyone’s as filthy as you!”
“Oh-ho… so you have! Heh, don’t worry, I can teach you. It’s easy.”
Shangguan Ye reached for his hand again.
Qiufeng jerked away on reflex, glaring with the guarded look of a man cornered by a wild animal.
Outside the room, several people were desperately covering their mouths and clutching their stomachs, shaking with silent laughter. Oh, dear prince… you’re beyond shameless. We’re blushing for you. Poor Qiufeng—we mourn for your dignity.
Even Shun had his lips pressed tightly together, clearly suppressing a smile, though his stoic face gave little away.
Shangguan Ye’s hand hovered mid-air. His hopeful eyes dimmed. He sighed in disappointment. “Fine, I’ll do it myself.”
His tone was pathetic.
Qiufeng glanced over, guilt creeping in. Then he froze. Shangguan Ye was frowning and slowly moving his hand downward.
Qiufeng quickly turned his head away, face completely red.
He could hear Shangguan Ye breathing heavily, groaning softly, hissing through his teeth like he was in pain. Qiufeng couldn’t resist a peek—and instantly regretted it.
Shangguan Ye was clutching himself with trembling hands, his face twisted in agony. His wounded shoulder was hunched, and the angle clearly strained his injuries.
Qiufeng was equal parts embarrassed and exasperated. Is this man for real?!
“Alright, fine! Just stop moving!” he snapped. Without another word, he pulled Ye’s hand away, propped up his shoulder to ease the strain, and adjusted his posture.
But he absolutely refused to look at that thing, which was visibly twitching under the covers.
Shangguan Ye’s eyes were practically glowing with frustration now. He looked at Qiufeng with such a pitiful, longing gaze it was almost unfair.
Qiufeng’s heart pounded so hard it felt like it might burst. He didn’t know how to deal with this man at all. Finally, flustered and angry, he muttered, “Fine! I’ll do it! Okay? You happy now?”
If I can take a knife for him, surely I can do… this.
But even as he said it, his face was a mask of resignation, like a man heading to the guillotine.
He grabbed a blanket and pulled it up tightly to cover Shangguan Ye, like he was preparing for battle.
Shangguan Ye obediently let him arrange things, eyes sparkling like a kid on Christmas. Hurry up, hurry up, they seemed to say.
Qiufeng inhaled deeply, closed his eyes, and—trembling—slid his hand under the blanket, holding his breath as he reached for the forbidden zone.
His fingertips brushed bare skin, and he immediately retracted his hand like he’d been burned. Then he reached again… and pulled back. Over and over.
