Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 67

Chapter 67: The Snobbish Black Moonlight (16)

---

As expected, Wei Yan had someone change the camel fleece double riding gear overnight. He paid special attention to the saddle blanket on top and the one underneath — thick, plush, and soft. Since it was already mid-autumn, riding on such a saddle in the cool weather wouldn’t feel stuffy at all.

 

Finally, Shui Que was able to sit properly atop the White Dragon Colt.

 

From the west side of the city to the southern Xijiang Academy, Wei Yan didn’t dare to ride fast. He worried that Shui Que might get nauseous from the jostling, especially since he had just eaten breakfast. Given the way this person had behaved so far — delicate beyond measure — he was terrified of accidentally breaking him.

 

Though it might have been a bit exaggerated, Wei Yan was genuinely afraid that if he wasn’t careful, he’d shatter the man.

 

When they reached the academy gate, Wei Yan helped him down. He needed to lead the horse to the stables behind the academy first and then find Nie Xiuyuan to discuss matters, so he didn’t go in with Shui Que.

 

Shui Que didn’t understand why this man explained everything he was doing in such detail. Wei Yan only needed to make sure he was safely delivered to the academy, right?

 

…Why did it sound like he was expecting Wei Yan to walk him into the classroom, as if he were some clingy little thing?

 

He wasn’t clingy. Not even close.

 

Shui Que pressed his lips together.

 

Right before they parted, he tugged on the thin silk cord around his waist, from which hung a jade pendant and tassels. He looked up and asked Wei Yan, “This outfit and everything… should I return it to you?”

 

It was outrageously expensive.

 

His soft rice points had nearly doubled because of it.

 

He felt reluctant to give it back after seeing the number, but the whole outfit was so valuable…

 

Wei Yan met those shimmering eyes looking straight at him. The moment their gazes met, it was like getting scalded. He covered the lower half of his face with a loose fist and coughed lightly, turning his head away.

 

He said, “That outfit was a gift for you. You saw the size — how could I possibly wear it?”

 

Not to mention Wei Yan’s body was built strong and solid from years of military training — just judging by frame alone, his shoulders alone would tear through that outfit. Sure, the wide sleeves could fit his arms, but once it came to the shoulder and neck area, it would immediately split the overlapping collars.

 

Besides, it wasn’t just the outer robe. There were also the underlayers — the inner robe, the undershirt. What was he supposed to do with all that?

 

They were soaked in the sweet scent lingering on Xiao Langjun’s skin.

 

He couldn’t wear them. What was the point?

 

“Oh…” Shui Que’s lips curved into a soft smile when he heard that it was truly a gift. “Thank you.”

 

Wei Yan gave him a surprised glance. Shui Que rarely spoke to him in such a gentle tone. Most of the time, he was either mad at him or biting him with those sharp teeth. In general, there was never a kind face directed at Wei Yan.

 

Was it because he gave him something?

 

No wonder that Hu man kept trying to get close to him with gifts every day.

 

Wait, no.

 

He wasn’t that sleazy Hu barbarian.

 

Wei Yan corrected himself mentally.

 

He had absolutely no desire to kiss a man.

 

He looked again.

 

That figure, glowing softly in pale blue, fluttered like a butterfly — light and graceful — stepping into the academy.

 

After passing through the second gate and into the pavilion, Shui Que spotted Qi Chaojin, head down and studying.

 

He usually studied properly at the lectern inside the lecture hall, but now he was waiting outside the teaching residence — clearly expecting Shui Que.

 

He was resting his head on one hand and didn’t seem to notice the movement at the second gate. Shui Que crept up quietly behind him and covered his eyes with both hands.

 

Qi Chaojin was startled out of his thoughts as if waking from a dream. He quickly raised his hand to place it over Shui Que’s, saying, “Shui Que…”

 

It was as if he’d lost his voice in an instant.

 

Shui Que noticed something was off with him and quickly let go of his hand.

 

Qi Chaojin turned around, the book he had been holding fell to the ground, its pages fluttering in the autumn wind. He just held Shui Que by the shoulders and looked him over thoroughly from head to toe.

 

There were dark circles under his eyes, and red veins traced through the whites.

 

He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

 

Worried, Shui Que asked, “Qi Lang? Did you not sleep well last night?”

 

Qi Chaojin, seeing that he was unharmed and looked fine, finally let out a breath of relief.

 

The previous evening, he had left the calligraphy shop in the north of the city and was heading toward Bazi Bridge when he heard the shocking news that there had been a fire at the Drum Belly Pavilion. That pavilion wasn’t far from the Mei family snack shop on West Street—just two alleys away. With such a fire, the crowd in the street would easily have caused a stampede.

 

He squeezed his way to the Mei family snack shop, only for the shopkeeper to tell him they hadn’t seen Shui Que. Qi Chaojin felt like a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head, and even in the autumn air, the chill cut through to his bones.

 

He shoved his way from the eatery all the way to the Drum Belly Pavilion. The colorful canopy frames out front had already burned into charred debris and blackened timber.

 

Soldiers from the patrol were packing up buckets and ropes used to fight the fire. When he tried to rush into the building, they thought he had a death wish. After clarifying his intent, they told him that Captain Liang from the Gongwei Division had captured a staff member of King Wu involved in the arson, and the case seemed to tie into a larger conspiracy. The Langjun that Qi Chaojin was looking for had been taken away for questioning by Marquis Anyuan’s heir, who had accompanied Captain Liang here.

 

Later, a servant of Marquis Anyuan’s heir came to find him at the Mei family snack shop after asking around. He passed along a message that his master had invited Xiao Shui Langjun to stay the night as a guest and that it would be inconvenient for him to return to Qinghe Village.

 

Qi Chaojin had never heard Shui Que mention this heir from the capital. One side said it was for questioning, the other said it was a friendly visit.

 

He couldn’t rest easy. On his way back, he made a detour toward the northern part of the city, but the mansion where the heir was staying had guards who obviously wouldn’t let him in.

 

Helpless, Qi Chaojin had no choice but to return to Qinghe Village.

 

He tossed and turned all night, worrying if Shui Que had eaten or slept well. In the end, he didn’t sleep at all.

 

Seeing how terrible he looked—haggard and pale—Shui Que moved closer and gave Qi Chaojin a hug, asking softly, “Did you stay up too late reading last night?”

 

He had told Wei Yan to send a message yesterday saying he was visiting a friend. That shouldn’t have caused any issues, right?

 

It wouldn’t have been a problem if he hadn’t leaned in so close. But as soon as he did, Qi Chaojin hugged him tightly, as if trying to pull him into his very bones.

 

Shui Que patted his back and struggled a bit. “I… I can’t really breathe.”

 

But then, a warm, damp sensation gently brushed against his earlobe again and again.

 

Shui Que’s fingers, which had been patting Qi Chaojin’s back, immediately curled inward.

 

His earlobes were snowy white, with just a hint of pink at the base—soft like little dangling pearls. Qi Chaojin kept touching them with his thin lips, over and over.

 

Shui Que’s lashes trembled, and he clenched a handful of Qi Chaojin’s robe. “D-Don’t kiss me here.”

 

Even though the banana trees outside the pavilion gave them some cover, they were still near the teaching quarters—if someone found them here cuddling, it’d be bad.

 

Especially since Qi Chaojin wouldn’t stop kissing his ear.

 

Was this man made of glue or something?

 

They had only been apart for one night.

 

Shui Que had never seen a male lead this clingy.

 

He tried to push him away, and Qi Chaojin finally let go.

 

Once they’d calmed down, the two of them began to explain what had happened yesterday.

 

Shui Que realized that the servant had arrived just a bit too late, which had made Qi Chaojin worry he was caught up in danger. So he told him everything, clearly and completely.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ve already been cleared of suspicion in Wu Chun’s incident,” he said, then spun around to show off the new clothes he had swindled for himself, all smug. “Qi Lang, how do I look in this?”

 

He had natural good looks—delicate brows, red lips, a strikingly fine face—so even rough hemp clothes looked good on him.

 

But the flowing brocade robe with the round collar suited him even better.

 

“You look beautiful,” Qi Chaojin naturally praised him, half-lowering his eyes as his gaze fell on the jujube-green jade.

 

Whether it was the brocade robe, the beaded glass necklace, or the moon-white palace sash with the jade hook…

 

They were all things he couldn’t give Shui Que right now.

 

But this Xiao Langjun was born to wear fine silks and live in luxury, to be cherished like a jewel.

 

And now, he was instead sharing a humble cottage in a poor village with him, eating plain meals and living simply.

 

Qi Chaojin took his hand again but said nothing more.

 

The arrow on the academy’s water clock rose—the first class of the day was about to begin. Someone began striking the gong and bell to signal it.

 

Cui Shixin was resting his chin on his hand while studying. When Shui Que walked in, the book propped on his desk fell over.

 

The teacher for the class hadn’t arrived yet.

 

Cui Shixin rolled up his book and reached out to tap Shui Que lightly on the shoulder from behind.

 

“Qi Lang’s made it big? He can afford to dress you like this now?” Cui Shixin squinted his phoenix eyes in curiosity.

 

Clothes made of floating brocade were nothing special to the Cui family, but that palace sash and jade belt hook—those clearly weren’t ordinary. They shouldn’t exist in any jewelry store in Changzhou County, or even in all of Suwu Prefecture.

 

A bold thought crossed Cui Shixin’s mind.

 

Judging by the quality of the jujube-green jade, it must’ve come from the capital.

 

And that palace sash… looked like something that had drifted out of the imperial palace.

 

There was no way Qi Chaojin could’ve bought it.

 

So the only possibility was…

 

Shui Que, eyes still on the door waiting for the teacher, leaned back a little and whispered to Cui Shixin, “…A gift from Little Marquis Wei.”

 

That confirmed Cui Shixin’s suspicion.

 

He hadn’t known that Shui Que and Marquis Anyuan’s heir were close enough to be exchanging clothes.

 

Cui Shixin muttered coolly, “Dressed so glamorously today—you look like one of those little celestial princes from a romance tale.”

 

Unexpectedly, his teasing praise ended up matching exactly what Wei Yan himself had thought.

 

The classmates, though pretending to sit properly at their desks, had been sneaking glances at Shui Que since he entered the room.

 

He was so dazzling that even scholarly young men couldn’t focus on the classics anymore.

 

They just kept staring at that snow-pale face and those soft pink earlobes.

 

The first class was taught by Nie Xiuyuan.

 

Shui Que remembered that Wei Yan had said Nie Xiuyuan had gone to discuss something with Headmaster Nie, so he was nearly half an hour late.

 

When the round wooden wheels of his cart stopped abruptly, Shui Que cautiously looked up from his book and met Nie Xiuyuan’s steady, unblinking gaze.

 

His heart sank.

 

Had he somehow offended the headmaster again?

 

Sure enough, midway through the lecture, Nie Xiuyuan called on him to answer a question.

 

Shui Que stumbled and stammered through it.

 

Though Nie Xiuyuan had mysteriously avoided him for quite a while since the incident in the dormitory, he hadn’t forgotten his promise not to make Shui Que copy texts as punishment.

 

So he just gave him a heavy look and let it slide.

 

But after class, he said, “Come with me.”

 

Spinning the wooden wheel of his chair, he led the way. Shui Que followed behind, uneasy.

 

The students passing by greeted respectfully, first addressing, “Headmaster Nie,” then looking on in surprise as Shui Que followed Nie Xiuyuan all the way to the zhai residence.

 

It was the same main room in the inner courtyard they had visited last time. The plantains in front of the room were a cool, dusky green.

 

Young servants moved carefully in and out, handling various items with great care. Upon seeing Nie Xiuyuan, they respectfully greeted him, “Master.”

 

Nie Xiuyuan gave a slight nod.

 

Shui Que focused his gaze for a closer look and realized that the items being moved out from the zhai residence were inkstones, brushes, paper, ancient paintings, and porcelain vases.

 

The once fully stocked display shelves in the main room now stood completely bare — everything had been cleared out.

 

Shui Que asked curiously, “Sir… are you selling those things? Why is everything being moved out of here?”

 

“They’re being taken back to my residence,” Nie Xiuyuan replied calmly.

 

Back in his prime, Nie Xiuyuan had risen swiftly through the ranks and served as an official for several years, so he had accumulated some savings. Moreover, with his strict scholarly discipline and growing reputation, many wealthy merchants from Jiangdong who admired scholars tried to send him rare treasures — even offering to gift him a residence. But Nie Xiuyuan refused them all, instructing his servants to inform those patrons of ways to donate to the academy instead.

 

He had an estate in the northern part of Changzhou County but rarely visited. Unless it was a holiday, he stayed at the academy year-round.

 

Now, even the furnishings and necessities from his zhai resident were being moved out.

 

A guess began to form in Shui Que’s mind. He asked softly, “Sir, are you leaving Xijiang Academy?”

 

Nie Xiuyuan nodded, confirming his suspicion. “I’ll be departing for the capital in a few days. By the time your clothing break ends and you return, the academy’s new headmaster will be Old Master Chen.”

 

Old Master Chen was a white-bearded elder known for his upright and no-nonsense personality — fair and stern.

 

He was a fitting match for Xijiang Academy’s long-standing character.

 

Shui Que’s eyes widened. “Sir, are you going to the capital to become a high official?”

 

Nie Xiuyuan had once been the teacher of the Ninth Prince, a man of great learning who had risen to the esteemed post of Grand Scholar at the Wen Yuan Pavilion. But at the time, the Ninth Prince’s faction was under suppression, and Nie Xiuyuan had fallen victim to vile schemes and resigned from his post. Now, the emperor reigned in the central court, and naturally still remembered his former mentor — unwilling to let such a capable minister vanish into obscurity.

 

Wei Yan’s journey to Changzhou carried another important mission: to persuade Nie Xiuyuan to return to the capital and resume his former office.

 

The phrase “become a high official” seemed to stir some darker memories in Nie Xiuyuan, but he didn’t correct Shui Que’s innocent phrasing.

 

Instead, he beckoned him forward.

 

On the long sandalwood desk, Nie Xiuyuan spread out a thin scroll.

 

“Forty-first rule. Read it aloud.”

 

Obediently, Shui Que leaned in to read closely and spoke: “Rule forty-one: A student of the academy must remain focused and deeply immersed in study. One must not don extravagant garments or take on the appearance of a frivolous dandy indulging in luxury.”

 

Simply put, while the academy didn’t restrict students’ attire, they were not to wear overly lavish clothing that might distract them from their studies.

 

What an outdated, old-fashioned rule…

 

Shui Que pursed his lips and nervously twisted the tassel of his palace sash around his fingers.

 

No wonder when Cui San had attended class, even though his clothing was of fine material, the overall design was simple and plain. The embroidered patterns were subtle, only faint cloud motifs.

 

With a sweep of his wide sleeve, he passed it before Nie Xiuyuan’s eyes and pressed it onto the desk, forcibly covering up the academy rules.

 

“Sir, you’re heading to the capital in a few days—surely you won’t punish me on such a fine day?”

 

That sweep of his sleeve had brushed past Nie Xiuyuan’s face, carrying a faint, rich fragrance.

 

Nie Xiuyuan’s gaze froze.

 

Lately, whenever he drifted into dreams at night, he would often see this student straddling his lap—either reading aloud or, just like before, grabbing his hand and pressing it to his chest.

 

The lingering scent in those dreams clung to him by day, making him feel like he was facing some untamed beast. He had to awkwardly avoid this daring and unruly student.

 

As those memories surfaced, his expression became unreadable, and instinctively, he straightened his face into a stern mask.

 

Noticing his grim expression, Shui Que feared Nie Xiuyuan might punish him with the bamboo ruler. He blurted out without thinking, “Don’t punish me, please! If it helps, I… I’ll take off my clothes right now and give them to you!”

 

He even moved as if to unfasten the jade clasp of his belt.

 

Nie Xiuyuan’s pupils contracted sharply. He quickly grabbed Shui Que’s hand—only to recoil at once as though scalded.

 

“That’s not necessary,” he said, turning his head away and speaking in a low voice. “I won’t punish you this time.”

Shui Que couldn’t quite tell what this meant, but the storyline progress had suddenly jumped forward by one percent.

 

After all these days, bit by bit, it was now sixty-five percent complete.

 

He awkwardly withdrew the hand resting on his jade belt clasp. “Oh…”

 

Trying to guess what the headmaster was thinking was like trying to fish a needle out of the sea—impossible.

 

Nie Xiuyuan wanted to lecture him about not sitting on others’ laps all the time, but he couldn’t say it out loud. Even opening his mouth felt futile, since saying too much might provoke him into undressing again.

 

He opened his mouth several times, but in the end, he said nothing.

 

Instead, he walked over to the yellow rosewood bookcase and pulled out an old notebook. Along with the brush rest on the desk, he placed both items next to Shui Que.

 

The brush rest was crafted in the shape of a boat beneath a willow tree on a mountain, glazed in blue and white. It had been with Nie Xiuyuan ever since he passed the imperial exam at seventeen and entered officialdom.

 

“All these years I’ve dedicated myself to scholarship—observing the world and reasoning through it—and I’ve gained some understanding,” he said softly, lowering his gaze. “This notebook contains my insights over the years. I’m giving it to you, along with this brush rest.”

 

Shui Que blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected Nie Xiuyuan to give him such precious items.

 

He hadn’t even mastered the annotated texts and dared to say, shamelessly, “Sir… am I your prized student?”

 

“……….”

 

Nie Xiuyuan fell silent for a long while. He didn’t answer the question. Instead, he said solemnly, “You must now focus your efforts on study. This gesture is because I hope to see your name on the honor roll.”

 

Shui Que’s eyes widened in shock.

 

Had Headmaster Nie not woken up properly this morning?

 

Putting aside his actual academic level—the storyline progress was already more than halfway through, and Nie Xiuyuan still didn’t realize what role he was playing?

 

Why was he still urging him to study hard and take the imperial exams every day…

 

That plotline clearly belonged to the male lead—not him.

 

Shui Que didn’t want Nie Xiuyuan to keep hoping and then end up disappointed, so he decided to be honest now.

 

“Well then, Sir, you won’t get to see it,” he said, tilting up the corners of his lips and speaking in a soft, gentle tone. “I was born to be someone’s Xiao Langjun.”

 

He knew what that title implied—it carried a hidden, teasing suggestion.

 

Saying something like this was no different from saying, “I was born to be someone’s wife.”

 

Even Shui Que felt a little embarrassed after saying it, fidgeting and picking at his fingers.

 

Nie Xiuyuan stared at him in stunned silence for a long time. His expression shifted several times before finally darkening. He barked out sternly, “Nonsense and depravity! Who do you intend to become Xiao Langjun to?”

 

Shui Que was startled by the sudden loud voice. His eyes darted away, and he mumbled without answering.

 

“It’s a good day—Sir, please don’t get angry…” he tried to deflect, then quickly changed the topic. “Since you’ve given me a farewell gift, I’ll give you one too!”

 

He spread out a sheet of light blue paper on the desk and began writing with smooth, elegant strokes.

 

He forgot the beginning, and then forgot the middle.


He only managed to write:

 

“Since ancient times, farewells have always been sorrowful—
All the more so in the cold, desolate season of autumn.
When I awaken from tonight’s wine, where will I be?
By the willows on the shore, beneath the faint wind and waning moon…”

 

As he wrote, his delicate brows furrowed.

 

…He forgot the rest too.

 

So he put down the brush.

 

He pressed down the corner of the paper and held it up to show Nie Xiuyuan proudly.

 

Beaming, as if offering a treasure, Shui Que said, “Your student isn’t that talented, so I can only give you my brushwork as a token.”

 

Nie Xiuyuan didn’t know how to respond.

 

Brushwork treasure was a respectful term others used for calligraphy or painting. Who referred to their own writing that way?

 

When he looked more closely at the content…

 

Nie Xiuyuan’s headache grew worse.

 

For a teacher-student farewell, why had he chosen a poem written by a former dynasty poet about lovers parting?

 

And it wasn’t even complete—he couldn’t memorize it properly.

 

Frowning, Nie Xiuyuan felt a throbbing pain at his temples. “I’ve already urged you to study diligently.”

 

Shui Que saw his displeasure.

 

But the storyline progress was still increasing…

 

Nie Xiuyuan said no more. He simply called for a servant to come in and carefully put away the student’s parting gift.

 

“Mountains are high and the road is long,” he said to Shui Que. “Take care of yourself.”

---

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

---