Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 69

Chapter 69: The Snobbish Black Moonlight (18)

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“You did,” Shui Que said firmly, even gesturing seriously. But the way he gestured made it look like the sedan chair was divided nine parts to one—he only had one tiny part of the seat, making it seem like Cui Shixin had left him barely any room to sit. He said, “You squished me so bad I only had this little space left.”

 

Cui Shixin furrowed his brows and chuckled. “I told you earlier—the mountain road’s steep, and this sedan chair doesn’t have the soft cushions of a carriage. I even offered to let you sit on my lap, but you refused. And now you’re blaming me for crowding you?”

 

Shui Que pressed his lips together and didn’t speak again.

 

Still fuming, he stomped over and sat down on a deerhide rug.

 

Everyone else who heard Cui Shixin’s flirty tone was secretly shocked.

 

How could Cui San… ask someone to sit on his lap?

 

The thought opened a floodgate of scandalous imaginings.

 

The Xiao Langjun clearly had delicate features and a petite frame. If he sat on a man built like Cui San, he’d practically nestle perfectly into his lap.

 

The green-robed man who had just called Shui Que a little village flower now felt his ears burn—imagining it was himself under that soft, plush weight.

 

Wei Yan, however, didn’t hear anything suggestive in Cui San’s words.

 

After all, when they rode on horseback, Shui Que had insisted on sitting in his lap too, saying the saddle hurt his thighs.

 

Though treating someone like a human cushion was a bit overly pampered, Wei Yan thought—if it’s Shui Que, then it kind of made sense.

 

His seat was right next to Shui Que’s deerhide rug, separated by a folding table. He pushed over a few plates of snacks from the table edge.

 

Chestnuts, sunflower seeds, hazelnuts—he had simply reached for what was nearby, but they all turned out to be nuts.

 

Shui Que had a few bites, then stopped. Wei Yan thought maybe he had no appetite or was waiting for the dishes to arrive. “Why aren’t you eating? Don’t like them?”

 

Shui Que shook his head, then held up his ten fingers, showing the red tips and bits of nut stuck to them. He clapped his hands and let the fragments fall, then said softly, “I want to eat. It’s just too troublesome. They’re so hard to crack, it makes me not want to bother.”

 

Back at home, all the sugar-roasted chestnuts were already shelled for him by Qi Chaojin.

 

Shui Que had developed a few bad habits because of him.

 

If the shell wasn’t removed, he’d rather not eat at all.

 

Wei Yan gained a new understanding of the spoiled guest’s temperament. He raised an eyebrow. “You’ve really been pampered. Aren’t you afraid you’ll starve?”

 

Despite saying that, he started cracking the nuts for him one by one, piling them into a little mountain on the plate.

 

Cui Shixin brought over two plates of candied kumquats and sat on Shui Que’s other side.

 

Shui Que immediately grew wary and warned him not to sit on his deerhide mat again—he didn’t want to be crowded.

 

It was as if he thought Cui Shixin was still holding a grudge and had come over just to squash him again.

 

“Am I really that bad?” Third Young Master Cui said helplessly. “This was the only spot left beside you. We arrived late—should I go sit in the stream?”

 

“Oh,” Shui Que still eyed him cautiously. “Then just sit on your side. Don’t cross the line.”

 

Cui Shixin had no choice but to peel a kumquat and offer it as a peace offering. “I squished you earlier. My bad, okay?”

 

The moment the other admitted his fault, Shui Que stopped fussing. He happily accepted the peeled kumquat. “Thanks, I forgive you.”

 

For some reason, Wei Yan suddenly grew irritated. His eyes narrowed as he shoved the nut-filled plate with the little mountain of kernels toward Shui Que. “Didn’t you say you liked hazelnuts? I cracked them for you—don’t want them now?”

 

With a mouth full of kumquat, Shui Que mumbled sweetly, “I do, I do.”

 

On his left, he had the third young master of the capital’s Cui family peeling fruit to apologize. On his right, Marquis Anyuan’s heir was fussing over him.

 

There wasn’t a single person left here who stood a chance.

Once everyone was seated, they began making introductions again, but the gathering was mostly among familiar faces or acquaintances. Only Shui Que was the odd one out, so the introductions were mainly for his benefit.

 

The plain-clothed servants moved quickly but steadily, climbing the mountain paths with ease and delivering food to the pavilions and gazebos. Just the appetizers alone numbered fifteen trays, each containing two dishes.

 

A winding stream, drawn from a mountain spring, flowed through the scenic pavilions. They had altered the water’s path to create a loop for floating drinks.

 

Litchi with pork kidneys, steamed quail, shark sashimi, crab soup…

 

Thirty types of appetizers floated on the water, along with candied herbs and jars of preserved fruit.

 

But if they were going to eat and drink, they couldn’t just do that passively.

 

The servants brought out thick lacquered boxes containing all kinds of leisure games—dice bowls, domino sets, wine tiles, rhyming tiles, poetry tubes. They had practically packed every game a cultured gentleman might enjoy on an outing.

 

The green-robed young man, the son of the assistant magistrate of Suwu Prefecture, was named Zheng He. He lifted a dice bowl and shook it in the air. “Wanna play Shuanglu? Whoever rolls a mixed flower has to drink!”

 

Everyone except Shui Que immediately agreed.

 

Shui Que had never played. He had only heard of Shuanglu in name, never even seen ancient dice before, and certainly didn’t know the rules.

 

Not wanting to spoil everyone’s fun, he quietly tugged on Cui Shixin’s sleeve. “Cui San… how do you play this Shuanglu?”

 

He and Cui Shixin had been classmates at the academy for quite some time now, often eating meals together, and had grown familiar enough that he no longer even bothered with polite suffixes like “Young Master.” He didn’t care that Cui Shixin was older than him—he simply called him Cui San, completely casually and without the slightest formality.

 

Cui Shixin normally didn’t care much about titles, but he did mind a little when he heard Shui Que call Qi Chaojin “Qi Lang.” Why not call him “Cui Lang” or at least “Cui Sanlang”?

 

And so, Cui Shixin found himself jealous of Qi Er again.

 

In the past, he had envied Qi Er’s academic rankings. Now, he envied the fact that Qi Er had a distant younger cousin acting like a little lover.

 

He was the picture-perfect Third Young Master of the Cui family on the surface—upright, honorable, and impeccable. But in truth, he was secretly extremely jealous. Every night, he schemed how he might stealthily steal away Qi Er’s little lover without anyone from the Qi family noticing.

 

Cui San, oh Cui San, day by day you studied the ways of the sages. So how had you grown more and more devious?

 

“Cui San?” Shui Que noticed him zoning out and gave his sleeve another tug. “Tell me how this shuanglu game works, or I’ll end up being punished with wine later.”

 

Cui Shixin snapped back to reality, quickly regaining his composure. He smiled and said with a grin, “Give me the other half of that tangerine in your hand and I’ll teach you.”

 

It was a tangerine he had peeled for Shui Que earlier. Shui Que had only eaten half of it.

 

Assuming Shui Que was simply too lazy to peel another one, and seeing that he didn’t mind sharing despite the saliva, Shui Que didn’t hesitate. He pinched the leftover half and stuffed it right into Cui Shixin’s mouth.

 

Cui Shixin chewed it a couple of times and swallowed, then said with satisfaction, “As for shuanglu—six-sided dice. The one and four dots are dyed red, the others are dyed green or black.”

 

“Three dice rolled at once can result in three types of ‘noble patterns.’ The first is when all three show four dots—this is called ‘Hall Seal.’ Whoever rolls this invites everyone at the table to drink a cup together. The second is when all three show six dots—this is called ‘Pure Six,’ allowing the roller to ask any three people at the table to drink. The third is when all three show one dot—this is called ‘Wine Star.'”

 

Seeing that Shui Que still looked confused, Cui Shixin chuckled. “How are you this pure? You’ve never even played a drinking dice game before?”

 

Faced with the naive Xiao Langjun, he patiently simplified the explanation: “Basically, if you roll a noble pattern—three fours, sixes, or ones—you can make others drink. If it’s any other combination, you have to drink as a penalty.”

 

Shui Que blinked.

 

Wait a minute… three six-sided dice rolled together, and only three out of all possible combinations are noble patterns? Doesn’t that mean…

 

He did a quick calculation in his head.

 

One in seventy-two?

 

Then how was he supposed to avoid drinking…?

 

He swallowed nervously.

 

As Shui Que was worrying, the person at the top of the circle began to roll—it was Zheng He.

 

He held the dice bowl, and the three dice clinked and clattered inside.

 

When the lid was lifted, all three red-painted dice showed four dots.

 

The crowd burst into cheers. “Hall Seal!”

 

“Nice! Zheng He, what a good start!”

 

Shui Que was still dazed, and by the time he came back to his senses, everyone had already tilted their heads back and downed their cups.

 

After the first round, Cui Shixin glanced at Shui Que and switched his cup to a smaller white-glazed goblet with a high stem.

 

“I heard the Qiongbu wine here at the Banquet Hall isn’t any worse than the famous Xianlao wine from Xinle Tower in the capital. What does the heir think?” someone asked boldly, wiping their sleeve with no pretense of scholarly restraint as they chatted with Wei Yan.

 

Wei Yan was still keeping an eye on Shui Que, and absentmindedly replied, “Still can’t match the Xianlao wine, but this one is rich and mellow enough.”

 

Shui Que shut his eyes and tilted his snow-white neck back. Even his Adam’s apple was delicate, moving slightly as he finally swallowed the wine.

 

Drinking a cup of wine looked more like he was offering his neck to be executed.

 

Wei Yan thought.

 

Poor little thing.

 

But after drinking, Shui Que changed his mind. It wasn’t that spicy, harsh kind of liquor—instead, it was fragrant, smooth, and surprisingly good.

 

Because it had been warmed, the flavor was fuller and left a sweet aftertaste.

 

The next two who rolled got ordinary patterns and had to drink as punishment.

 

Each time they finished a cup, their attentive servants refilled them right away.

 

Then Wei Yan took the dice bowl.

 

He gave it a casual shake and lifted the lid—three sixes, all painted green.

 

The crowd cheered, “Pure Six!”

 

“Nice luck, Little Marquis!”

 

Rolling a Pure Six meant he could ask three people to drink.

 

The moment Shui Que met Wei Yan’s eyes, he quickly shook his head.

 

Wei Yan grinned, showing his canine teeth. With the scar at the corner of his eye, he didn’t look threatening at all—more like a big, slightly goofy dog who had taken a hit to the face.

 

He ended up picking three other people at random to drink instead.

 

Shui Que felt that Zheng He and Wei Yan seemed pretty skilled at this game.

 

They must have some trick to it…

 

He mumbled to himself.

 

Though Shui Que spoke softly, Cui Shixin still heard him and let out a cold laugh.

 

Then he rolled the second Hall Seal of the night.

 

The crowd erupted in cheers again.

 

Everyone drank another cup.

 

After Shui Que finished his, he licked the corner of his lips.

 

Then it was his turn. Eager, he took the dice bowl from Cui Shixin.

 

He gave it an unfamiliar shake and carefully lifted the lid.

 

Three, two, three.

 

A totally ordinary mix.

 

He had even managed to completely avoid the noble patterns—four, one, and six.

 

Shui Que: “…”

 

He made a bitter face and drank a cup in punishment.

 

His lips were damp and red from the wine.

 

As the game went on, round after round, Shui Que kept drawing ordinary patterns and had to drink every time. Even when others rolled noble patterns, they would pull him in to drink with them.

 

Again, he rolled a plain result.

 

Feeling down, Shui Que took another drink. Frustrated that he kept losing, he quietly complained to Cui San, “I don’t want to play anymore…”

 

Just then, someone else rolled a Hall Seal.

 

The whole table had to drink again.

 

Seeing Shui Que looking glum, Cui Shixin brought the white-glazed goblet to his lips. Shui Que’s eyes met his.

 

Cui Shixin said in a low voice, “Spit it into my sleeve.”

 

He was wearing a long robe with wide sleeves that day—once the sleeve covered it, no one could tell where the wine had gone.

 

Shui Que did as he was told, sipped a small amount of wine, and obediently spat it into Cui Shixin’s wide sleeve.

 

Thankfully, the robe was dark indigo. Though a patch darkened where it got wet, it wasn’t too noticeable.

 

Cui Shixin: “…”

 

He clenched his jaw. Shui Que looked at him innocently, and Cui San finally sighed, “What I meant was, I have a wineskin hidden in my sleeve—not for you to spit directly onto the fabric.”

 

Why was he suddenly so obedient now?

 

He had taken the words literally and followed them to the letter.

 

Shui Que whispered, “I’m sorry…”

 

His lips were still wet with wine, tinted red.

 

Cui Shixin couldn’t even stay mad anymore.

 

Across a stacked table, Wei Yan could only see the two of them speaking in hushed tones. For some reason, it irritated him.

 

Seeing that Shui Que wasn’t good at dice, he called out, “Enough with dice games—let’s switch! Play something more elegant like you scholars do.”

 

It had to be elegant, but not too refined. After all, Young Marquis Wei was more used to swords and spears—playing something like the ‘Flying Flower Game’ would give him a headache.

 

Someone suggested, “Why don’t we play Analects and Jade Candles?”

 

A white-robed servant quickly brought up a silver wine game container.

 

It was a thick silver tube filled with 40 to 50 drinking sticks—basically silver-dipped lottery sticks with game rules engraved on them. The top line quoted the Analects, and the bottom half was a game prompt crafted to match the quote.

 

Since Wei Yan had asked for a new game, he got to draw first.

 

He casually picked a stick, glanced at it, and read aloud, “Ride a fat horse, wear a light fur cloak—if your outfit is fine, drink a full cup.”

 

A full cup meant a completely filled goblet.

 

“Outfit is fine” meant—whoever was dressed the nicest had to drink.

 

The moment Shui Que lifted his eyes, he saw everyone staring at him.

 

Shui Que: ?

 

Before this, Wei Yan had been busy interrogating a strategist from King Wu’s household with Captain Liang, and he hadn’t seen Shui Que for nearly a month.

 

Still, he had remembered to have Shui Que’s clothes cleaned and dried before sending them back to Qinghe Village. Along with them, he had sent newly bought garments from a tailor shop.

 

Changzhou County wasn’t famous for silk weaving, but it did have renowned embroidery artisans whose work was popular in Jiangnan. Thanks to the Panjiang River and convenient water transport, they could easily purchase fine fabrics from other provinces in bulk.

 

Those fabrics were then made into clothes by local seamstresses. Especially those from the largest tailor shop in the county—Jinxiu Workshop—were considered top quality in the Jiangzuo region, even if still a step below the capital.

 

Wei Yan had browsed there for quite a while that day.

 

The cloud-blue wide-sleeved robe was made of heavy lotus silk—woven from water silk reeling from Lang cocoons—fine, smooth, and glossy.

 

It fit perfectly. When the Xiao Langjun wore it, he looked radiant and delicate, like warm jade perfumed with orchids.

 

Around his snowy-white neck was a strand of sea blue topaz court beads, cascading down over his collar.

 

His slender waist was tied with a moon-white palace sash and a jade belt hook.

 

The shoes on his feet were the cloud-tipped ones that Cui Shixin had sent him.

 


His entire appearance was polished and beautiful, glowing with a bright radiance, like the reflection of jade under a setting sun.

 


Only the pouch at his waist looked a little plain, though the craftsmanship of the seed embroidery was quite fine.


 

Even without paying attention to his whole outfit, simply not putting much effort into decoration, his graceful demeanor, elegant bones, and smooth, pale skin made him an extraordinarily beautiful person.


 

Shui Que was feeling frustrated.


 

The clothes that Wei Yan had given him, and yet Wei Yan himself was now using a drinking game to punish him by making him drink.

 

He grumbled as he spoke, “What kind of luck do you have?”


 

Such bad luck.


 

Shui Que had already drunk a little and was complaining about Wei Yan, though he still politely drank a full cup.


 

After he was punished in the previous round, this round it was his turn to draw.


 

Shui Que focused, muttering softly, “When leaving, treat the distinguished guest—encourage the host to drink half a cup.”


 

He had to convince the host to drink half a cup of wine.


 

He braced himself and stood up, walking around the stacked tables to reach Wei Yan’s deerskin cushion.


 

He took a full white-glazed goblet and asked Wei Yan to drink.


 

Shui Que was genuinely a little tipsy now, his mind fuzzy, but when he offered the wine, he still held the cup he had been drinking from and brought it to the host’s lips.


 

His eyes were slightly red, his cheeks soft and fair, and there was a hint of wine still clinging to his lips. It made him look extraordinarily alluring, his breath sweet and fragrant.


 

It made one want to lean in and lick the wine off his lips.


 

Wei Yan froze.


 

He couldn’t understand how such a thought had even entered his mind.


 

Shui Que noticed his lack of response, and with a stiff hand, he pushed the goblet to Wei Yan’s lips. “Drink quickly…”


 

His white-glazed cup was smaller than the others, holding almost half the amount of wine.


 

Although the game said half a cup, Wei Yan drank it all in one go.


 

The others watched them, wine warming their cheeks, with flushed necks and faces.


 

It felt as if they were the ones being urged to drink, with the scent of either wine or Shui Que’s skin filling their noses.


 

Only Cui Shixin’s gaze remained dim and uncertain.


 

Suddenly, Shui Que leaned in close to Wei Yan’s ear and whispered very softly, “I want… I want to go… there.”


 

Wei Yan furrowed his brows, lowering his voice, “You need to go to the bathroom?”


 

Shui Que looked embarrassed, “Mm.”


 

He grabbed a wine token at random.


 

Wei Yan: “Do not do to others what you do not want done to yourself—pass.”


 

“Pass” meant that no one needed to drink for this round.


 

The next person drew a token to begin a new round.


 

Wei Yan told them to continue and led Shui Que away from the table.


 

Le Ping Mountain had many dense areas, with thick woods and lush grass, rarely visited by people due to the overgrown vegetation.


 

“Go ahead,” Wei Yan said casually. “I’ll keep watch; no one will pass by.”


 

He seemed carefree, as if there were no restrictions.


 

Shui Que looked uneasy, “Is it… in the bushes?”


 

Wei Yan was surprised, “Otherwise, what can we do in this desolate area? Do you want to walk all the way to the inn at the foot of the mountain just to relieve yourself?”


 

Shui Que, being from modern times, hesitated for a moment but couldn’t bring himself to go through with it.


 

Seeing Shui Que so embarrassed, Wei Yan finally offered, “Should I ask a servant to bring a chamber pot?”


 

When Shui Que nodded, Wei Yan said, “Wait here for a moment.”


 

Soon, he returned with a large-mouthed, blue porcelain chamber pot.


 

Shui Que’s ears turned red, and he prepared to take it behind the thick trees.


 

Wei Yan didn’t know why, but his mind kept recalling the image he had tried to forget.


 

The snow-white thigh, half-hidden by the long robe, was gently raised when he had kicked him.


 

…Had he mistaken it that day?


 

How could a man have such pink skin?


 

So soft, like jade.


 

Wei Yan was only curious and wanted to verify it.


 

He coughed lightly and found an excuse, “Your robe is not very convenient. Do you want me to hold your robe for you?”


 

After all, both of them were men, so it didn’t matter, right?


 

Suddenly, his mind darted to the thought—was Shui Que’s wine in the cycle also different from theirs?


 

It should be clear and transparent, like the fresh dewdrops on grass at dawn.

 


Wei Yan snapped back to reality and saw Shui Que staring at him in panic, as if he had seen a ghost.


 

Only then did he realize he had unknowingly spoken his thoughts out loud.


 

“What nonsense… What cycle wine!” Shui Que was both shocked and angry, stammering as he asked, “Did you drink so much that you’ve alcohol poisoning?”

 


There was no concept of alcohol poisoning in this place.


 

But Wei Yan could understand.


 

He scratched his head nonchalantly and replied honestly, “Not yet, I can drink a thousand cups without falling down in the army.”

 


Shui Que’s face turned red, and he glared at him, his angry glare still charming.

 


The Overseer’s cold voice rang out: [Tell him to stay far away; I’m afraid he’ll try something later.]

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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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