Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 65

Chapter 65: The Snobbish Black Moonlight (14)

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Wei Yan didn’t wait for anyone to say anything. With a strong squeeze of his calves against the horse’s flanks and a sharp tug of the reins, the horse spun around and galloped off.

 

There had just been a fire incident near the market district, and the streets were crowded. Wei Yan rode his horse out through the southwest gate, circled along the outer city’s packed dirt post road, and headed westward around the city.

 

The horse he rode had been a tribute to the Emperor from a Tuyuhun envoy during the New Year court audience earlier this year.

 

The Emperor, knowing Wei Yan loved horses, had specially gifted it to him.

 

It was a Qilian Qinghai steed from Tuyuhun—white-maned and frost-hoofed, its coat pure and snow-like, commonly known as the “White Dragon Colt.” Being a diplomatic tribute, it carried political significance, and calling it worth a thousand gold pieces wasn’t an exaggeration.

 

Even so, that delicate Xiao Langjun still ended up suffering on it.

 

Wei Yan loved horses but didn’t care much about fancy tack. Unlike those high-ranking officials in the capital, who fussed over purple-stitched saddles, he had spent years on the northern frontier under Marquis Anyuan, where, if barbarian invaders from Shuo Dan attacked, even a bare hide thrown over a horse was enough to ride into battle.

 

So the saddle he used now prioritized practicality over craftsmanship—thick and as firm as iron or stone.

 

Shui Que reached out to grab his arm that was holding the reins. But with such little strength, and Wei Yan’s forearm protected by a lamellar armor bracer, the touch was so faint it nearly went unnoticed.

 

“What’s wrong?” Wei Yan lowered his head slightly and asked.

 

Wei Yan had never imagined sharing a horse with someone else before. The saddle was made for one—its ends curved up, and the flat middle where someone might sit was cramped even for one person, let alone two. It was either too tight or downright impossible.

 

He had to shift all the way back to the rear arch of the saddle, while Shui Que kept squirming uncomfortably, scooting backwards, like he was sitting on needles, enduring a torment he couldn’t bear.

 

Xiao Langjun kept backing up, backing up—until he was almost nestled entirely in Wei Yan’s arms. With just that slight tilt of his head, Wei Yan could see the pale nape of Shui Que’s neck—so white, so inexplicably fragrant.

 

Did he use flower petals to bathe?

 

Wei Yan couldn’t place the scent—subtle and rich, sweet to the point of making his head spin. Even the whistling autumn wind couldn’t blow it away. On the contrary, since Shui Que was seated in front of him, the scent drifted straight into his nose with every gust.

 

The person in front was still shifting, trying to adjust his seat, his soft, weak voice almost drowned by the wind: “It hurts…”

 

Wei Yan raised an eyebrow, still keeping his eyes on the road, but bent his back slightly, tilting his head toward Shui Que’s cheek. “What did you just say? Why did it sound like a cat meowing? I didn’t catch—”

 

He hadn’t even finished saying the word “catch” when Shui Que suddenly bit his ear.

 

It wasn’t some flirtatious nibble between lovers—it was a real, vengeful bite.

 

“Ah—ow!” Wei Yan let out a startled cry. Completely caught off guard, he reflexively pressed his heels into the stirrups and squeezed the horse’s sides. The White Dragon Colt took off at an even faster pace.

 

The road around the outer city was layered with three tiers of tamped earth. It looked smooth, but it was still nothing compared to the paved brick roads within the city walls.

 

The White Dragon Colt galloped like lightning, and the ride became even more jarring—up and down, bouncing relentlessly.

 

Shui Que didn’t have time to focus on biting ears anymore. He let go, leaving a bite mark on Wei Yan’s ear that looked like it might break the skin, though thankfully, there was no blood.

 

But Shui Que himself was worse off. With the constant jolting, the hard wooden saddle pressing against him, and the thin fabric of his long autumn robe doing nothing to cushion him, his thighs were throbbing with pain.

 

All shame forgotten, Shui Que began to sob and whimper, “My legs hurt… my legs really hurt…”

 

Riding a horse wasn’t anything like the period dramas he used to watch with System 77, and it definitely wasn’t as elegant or dashing as when he had seen Cui San and the others riding horses before.

 

To protect the horse’s back from getting worn by the wooden saddle, there was a saddle blanket placed underneath. But who knew what kind of fabric that was—how the horse felt, he couldn’t say, but Shui Que’s calves were rubbed raw and itchy.

 

Wei Yan hadn’t thought to place another, softer saddle blanket on top of the saddle either. Shui Que felt like the skin on his thighs might already be rubbed raw.

 

He dared not sit properly, so along the way, he kept stepping on Wei Yan’s foot, which was resting on the stirrup, using it to lean back, almost sitting on him.

 


Xiao Langjun’s entire body seemed to have all its weight gathered in his thighs and hips, pressing softly and gently against Wei Yan, while a fragrant scent wafted like a dream, overwhelming his senses.

 


Wei Yan was already in a daze.


However, this time, he finally heard Shui Que’s low murmurs clearly, though he couldn’t understand why his leg would hurt so much.

 


After all, they weren’t riding along a rugged, winding mountain path, right?

 


But the voice seemed to be crying, and Wei Yan nervously asked, “Did you injure your leg before? Why does it hurt while riding?”

 


He tugged on the reins and slowed down the White Dragon Colt. Fortunately, they were just about to take a turn on the trail to the city’s west gate, and a narrow alley led to the new house in the town Wei Yan had bought through Father Cui.

 


The house was a three-compartment residence, reportedly renovated from the property of a wealthy merchant from Jiangnan in the previous dynasty.

 


The stone lions at the entrance held beads in their mouths, and the bright red lacquered gates stood open. Inside, two servants immediately noticed his return. One stepped forward to greet him, while the other hurried into the house to prepare tea.

 


Wei Yan carefully dismounted, swinging his leg over to the ground.


 

He extended a hand to help Shui Que down, trying to observe whether he had been crying or not.


Although there were no tears, his expression clearly reflected a deep sense of grievance, as though he had suffered a great injustice. His eyes drooped, subtly reddened.


 

It was clear that he was truly angry, sitting high on the saddle, looking down, and accusing Wei Yan slowly: “You’re abusing and mistreating me!”


 

After saying this, he seemed to feel more aggrieved, muttering, “Moreover, I’m not even a suspect… First, you falsely accuse me, and now you’ve made me feel this miserable.”


 

His thighs were trembling, and it was hard to lift a leg over the saddle.

 


Finally, Wei Yan realized that Shui Que’s current state wasn’t due to a previous injury, but from their joint ride together.


 

“How is this mistreatment? Didn’t we ride together?”


 

Wei Yan was thoroughly confused. He had never seen such a delicate person before. Though the saddle was made of wood, it had been polished smooth, with no sharp edges. How could it have made his legs hurt?


 

He saw that Shui Que struggled to get off the horse, worried that he might fall off. Wei Yan had no choice but to step forward and assist him.


 

Shui Que gasped sharply, and though it was in public, he couldn’t check if his thighs were actually hurt, suspecting that his skin might have been scratched.


 

Seeing Shui Que in such distress, unable to move, Wei Yan simply stepped between his knees and lifted him up, carrying him into the courtyard.


 

According to Darong’s interrogation procedures, they were supposed to intimidate and pressure the suspect into revealing the truth, often locking them in filthy, dark prisons for questioning.


If they did that, Xiao Langjun would surely cry upon seeing the rats in the damp corners of the prison, right?


 

Wei Yan felt a bit foolish. Even if he didn’t send him to jail, who would bring a suspect back to their mansion and offer tea and snacks?


 

Shui Que drank the tea served by the servant, soothing his parched lips.


 

He also took a piece of crystal soap from the tray and popped it into his mouth.


 

Standing nearby was a servant who had come from Marquis Anyuan’s household, almost always serving the marquis’s son, Wei Yan, since his childhood. The servant had traveled south with him for this trip.

 


The servant’s pupils dilated as he carefully observed the situation.

 


The beautiful Xiao Langjun had been carried off the White Dragon Colt, seemingly unable to walk due to an injury.


 

The Xiao Langjun looked completely obedient, even asking for tea and snacks from the kitchen, with a bite mark on his ear, indicating an intense situation earlier.

 


The servant’s eyes widened.


 

Should he report this to the Marquis?


 

The young master, who had never spoken a word to any other woman in all these years, hid it so well, it seemed he had a fondness for young men…


 

Wei Yan furrowed his brow, unable to untangle his thoughts. “Now, will you tell me the truth?”


 

He asked a servant to bring paper, ink, and brushes.


 

Shui Que shook his head. “Not yet.”


 

He still remembered that someone was waiting for him at the Mei family snack shop.


 

Wei Yan would surely not send him back yet, and he didn’t know how long Shui Que would be interrogated.


 

Shui Que instructed, “Tell someone to go to Mei family snack shop, find a person named Qi Chaojin, and explain the situation. Otherwise, they’ll keep waiting for me.”

 

It was already evening outside, the twilight growing darker. Qi Chaojin had just left the northern city’s calligraphy shop. If he went early to Mei family snack shop and couldn’t find anyone, he’d be frantic.

 


Shui Que added, “Don’t tell them I had an accident at the tavern, and don’t mention I’m a suspect being interrogated by you… Qi Lang would be worried sick if he heard.”

 


He might even be up all night, unable to sleep, worrying about him.

 


Wei Yan’s frown deepened. “How should I explain it, then?”


 

Shui Que knocked his fingers, coolly raising his eyes to glance at him. He was still upset with the person who had made him fall earlier and injured his leg, so he replied, “Are you stupid? Just say… I’m a friend of yours, and I’m here for dinner.”


 

“You’re not going to keep me here after dinner, right?” he asked warily.


 

Wei Yan pretended to threaten in a stern tone, “That depends on whether you tell the truth.”


 

He told a servant to go to Mei family snack shop to deliver the message, and shortly after, another servant entered with the medicinal ointment and writing materials.


 

Wei Yan dismissed the servants from the inner courtyard, leaving only him and Shui Que in the room.


 

“Don’t say I’m mistreating a suspect.” Wei Yan handed Shui Que the medicinal ointment, nodding his chin toward it. “Here, this is military-grade ointment for deep wounds. It can immediately stop bleeding when applied to a severe injury.”


 

Shui Que seemed annoyed by his actions. Still holding in his frustration, he haughtily ordered, “Don’t you have hands? Apply the medicine for me.”


 

His expression was haughty, as though Wei Yan was born to serve him and apply his ointment.


Wei Yan’s expression turned somewhat strange.


 

Though it was normal to help someone change bandages in the military, especially when it came to wounds from arrows, it seemed a bit excessive for Shui Que to ask for help with a leg injury.


He had done his research on Shui Que. Shui Que lived with Qi Chaojin from Qinghe Village, so he should be a village boy, yet he was so delicate that Wei Yan thought he might be some noble from a rich family.

 


It dawned on him just then, as he closed the door to the room and crouched by the bed.

 


Shui Que removed his black shoes and socks, folded the undershorts hidden beneath his long gown, and placed them by the bed.

 


He adjusted his gown, revealing the wound on his thigh.


 

Fortunately, he had been sitting lightly on the horse, so the pressure hadn’t been as intense as it would have been if it had pressed directly into Wei Yan.


 

Now, only the area just above his knee had been rubbed against the saddle.


 

Shui Que pressed the edge of his gown to expose only the small wound above his knee.


 

He placed his foot on the crescent-shaped footrest at the bed’s edge, just the right height to rest his foot on.


 

He frowned slightly, commanding, “Wipe it.”


 

He added in an irritated tone, “Be gentle this time, you always go too rough.”


 

Wei Yan didn’t know what to say in response.


 

He focused on examining the wound. It really looked like it had been hurt, with bruises and slight tears on the inner thigh.


 

How did this happen? They had only ridden from the southwestern gate to the western city gate, right?


 

It wasn’t even a full incense stick’s time, and he had already gotten hurt like this.


 

Wei Yan carefully applied the ointment.


 

For this kind of ointment to work best, it had to be massaged into the skin.

 

But Wei Yan figured that if he used even a bit of force, Shui Que would probably get so angry he’d start scolding him.

 

Though even if he did, his voice would still be soft and gentle, and his words wouldn’t carry any real bite.

 

Still—who was the young marquis here, anyway? Was it this guy, or was it supposed to be Wei Yan himself?

 

Why did it feel like he was the one being intimidated?

 

In the end, Wei Yan only dared to use the pad of his finger to gently press down and spread the ointment.

 


The skin was as white as snow, soft and delicate, like tofu.


 

His knee was smooth, and his legs were slender and delicate.


 

It was completely different from their rough, muscular bodies.


 

As Wei Yan continued to rub the ointment, Shui Que let out another sharp breath.


 

Wei Yan was completely puzzled.


 

He hadn’t even applied much pressure, had he?


 

The ointment was almost finished.


 

Shui Que lowered his head, his perfectly aligned eyelashes fluttering like a fan. This was his usual reaction when he was nervous.


 

His delicate Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed.


 

He had already made up his mind to commit this petty act the moment he asked Wei Yan to apply the medicine.

 

Just as Wei Yan lifted his head and said, “All done,”—

 

Before the words were fully out of his mouth, the sole of a soft, pale foot slammed into his face.

 

Shui Que had put real force into that kick, but he only dared to lash out once. The moment it landed, like a dragonfly skimming water, he swiftly pulled his foot back.

 

Wei Yan’s expression went completely blank.

 

Seeing him stunned like that, Shui Que instantly started to wonder if he’d gone too far.

 

He remembered how, in the previous world, Chu Jingting always looked utterly humiliated and miserable after being pushed around. And this guy—this was Wei Yan—a noble heir, future marquis, full of pride. Wouldn’t being humiliated like this keep him up at night, grinding his teeth in rage?

 

Shui Que admitted—he’d acted on impulse.

 

After all, making Wei Yan seethe with resentment wouldn’t exactly help with the later storyline, where the little marquis was supposed to whisk him away.

 

But still, he couldn’t help it. He really, really disliked this man. Last time, he’d caused him to fall twice. This time, he straight up slandered him and injured his thigh.

 

Shui Que had to vent a little. Otherwise, every time he saw Wei Yan’s face, he’d just get mad all over again.

 

But Wei Yan looked completely out of his mind, as if he had lost all three souls and seven spirits.


The heir of Marquis Anyuan, born with divine strength, had trained in martial arts since childhood. At fourteen, he followed his father to guard the frontier against the Shuo Dan people. By seventeen, he was leading troops in battle. It was only in the past two years that he had settled down in the capital, officially a carefree heir, but secretly a right-hand man of the new emperor, assisting the Gongwei Division and rushing around all over the Darong empire. He had seen it all.


 

Yet Shui Que kicked him with no courtesy at all—hard and swift, without holding back.

 


But Wei Yan’s body was like iron and steel—unshakable. He didn’t move an inch, only seemed stunned, his eyes wide as he caught a glimpse of pink beneath the long robe.

 


This was something he really had never seen before.


 

A little figure inside Wei Yan’s head gestured wildly—the image seemed burned into his brain.


 

How… how could a man’s be pink?


 

Wei Yan felt dazed and disoriented, as if his soul had drifted away and his dreams were crumbling.


 

Shui Que watched him with concern. His temper had already cooled. After all, kicking him in the face should make them even, right?


 

Now he started to worry—had he kicked the guy into stupidity?


 

He anxiously asked the system, [77… Was I too much? Did I kick him senseless? What should I do now?]


 

It wasn’t System 77’s channel.


 

The Overseer let out a long, mournful sigh, unwilling to say anything more.


 

If he kept watching, he might just get gastritis from the stress.


 

“Hey…”


 

Shui Que poked Wei Yan on the forehead, and with a guilty conscience, asked in a low voice, “Are you still going to interrogate or not?”

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Huge shoutout to @candycorns2 on Discord for commissioning this! The chapter will be posted regularly, show your support for Ciacia at Kofi.

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