Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 73

Chapter 73: The Snobbish Black Moonlight (22)

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In Darong, there was a saying: from the Winter Solstice, you count nine periods of nine days each before the bitter cold is considered gone.

 

A northern wind blew bitterly. On the day of the Winter Solstice, rain and snow fell—it was that kind of year-end weather. The academy had already dismissed students for the winter, and classes wouldn’t resume until the spring of the following year.

 

On the Winter Solstice, people ate dumplings made for the occasion. After leaving the academy, Shui Que followed Qi Chaojin to the grain and oil shop, where they bought a bag of ground rice flour and sweet red bean paste. They would go back to make the dumplings with radish shreds, sugar, and meat.

 

At year’s end, the weather was bitterly cold, and the trees and grass were sparse.

 

A sugar vendor was carrying a pole loaded with malt candy, striking a bronze gong and calling out in the alleys.

 

Qi Chaojin noticed Shui Que looking on with curiosity, so he bought him a small cloth pouch of the malt sugar.

 

“It’s sweet.”

 

Shui Que picked up a piece and popped it into his mouth. His eyes sparkled as he looked up at Qi.

 

The wind picked up again. Tiny flakes of snow began falling, scattered and light.

 

Qi Chaojin pulled the fog-grey cloak tighter around him.

 

It was the same color as the sky—dull and grey, but good at hiding dirt.

 

In a world of grey, the only brightness came from the little face tucked into the cloak’s hood. Snow-white and delicate, his nose was flushed red from the cold.

 

Shui Que whispered, “I forgot my scarf.”

 

As he spoke, his words turned into little puffs of white mist in the air.

 

Snowflakes fell onto the brim of his hood.

 

Qi Chaojin opened the indigo umbrella.

 

He noticed that the sugar vendor’s cart also had some fresh milk cakes.

 

Qi Chaojin asked, “Elder, do you keep dairy cows at home?”

 

Malt candy was made from malt and rice syrup—something most households could make. But milk cakes required actual dairy cows, and in winter no less.

 

The elderly man with graying sideburns nodded. “Would you like to buy some milk cake? I made them this noon while the sun was still out—fresh as can be!”

 

Qi Chaojin bought another cloth pouch full and asked, “Do you also sell cheese in winter?”

 

The old man replied, “I do, I do.”

 

Shui Que leaned in and whispered to Qi Chaojin, “What’s cheese?”

 

“Milk that is collected daily from the cows and bottled.”

 

Shui Que nodded.

 

Got it—bottled milk.

 

Qi Chaojin chatted with the old man a while longer and found out that he lived in Jiulong Village, not far from Qinghe Village.

 

So he said, if he was delivering dairy to his regular customers in town anyway, he could bring a bottle for the Qi family in Qinghe too. They’d buy it.

 

On the way back, under the umbrella, Shui Que asked,

 

“Qi Lang, do we still have that much money left at home?”

 

Cheese wasn’t cheap, especially in the dead of winter.

 

Qi Chaojin had spent his earnings from the calligraphy shop on a brazier and coal, and that still wasn’t enough. He had to make an extra thick winter quilt, which had left their savings jar completely empty.

 

Qi Chaojin explained to him, “The end of the year is busy at the county office. The six departments are swamped with paperwork, and they’re hiring people to help edit documents. I’ve been earning some editing fees. And when the twelfth lunar month comes, I can also write spring couplets for people.”

 

“No need to worry.”

 

He said.

 

Shui Que blinked. A snowflake landed on his lashes and melted into water.

 

The cold really did bite.

 

Changzhou County had lost its former liveliness. Dead leaves rustled along the streets and alleys. Many shop signs had been taken down for the season. With not much to look at, the two of them quickened their pace back to Qinghe Village.

 

As soon as they got home, Shui Que carried a small four-legged stool and sat beside the brazier in the room.

 

Even indoors, he kept his hood on. It was just too cold. This area was always damp, and the chill seeped right into the house.

 

He took some fire flint and the dried mugwort saved from autumn, sat beside the eight-sided clay brazier, struck the flint, and lit a small bundle of dried mugwort. The charcoal slowly began to glow red.

 

He pulled his hands from his sleeves, hovered them over the fire to warm them, then used his warm palms to cup his own cheeks.

 

“Qi Lang?”

 

He turned his head—but the man was nowhere to be seen.

 

He muttered in confusion, “…Are you not going to warm yourself?”

 

The clay brazier made a soft creaking sound as it was dragged along the floor.

 

Qi Chaojin was sitting at his desk, with official documents from the county yamen spread out beside him.

 

Hearing a noise, he turned his head to see Shui Que awkwardly using both his hands and feet to drag the clay brazier over.

 

The brazier was large and not easy to move, typically placed in a fixed spot for people to sit near for warmth.

 

The coal Qi Chaojin had bought was already much better than regular charcoal, and hence more expensive—one scale cost a hundred coins. Still, it produced thick black smoke when burned.

 

Shui Que choked a couple of times, coughing repeatedly, his cheeks smudged with soot—no one knew how he’d gotten himself so dirty.

 

He dragged the brazier to Qi Chaojin’s side, took off his cloak, and burrowed into his arms, clutching a hand warmer.

 

Now the male lead could enjoy the fire too.

 

He was certainly clever.

 

Surely the male lead must be deeply touched by now.

 

The plot progress bar ticked up just a little, and Shui Que was delighted.

 

After reaching seventy percent, it became increasingly hard to make progress—just 0.1 or 0.2 increments at a time. It was not easy at all.

 

Warm and soft in his arms, Shui Que’s body helped Qi Chaojin thaw out. With his torso warmed up, even his frozen and stiff hands became more flexible.

 

In past winters, when heavy snow fell for days, ink would nearly freeze in the inkstone. Even when reading and writing left his hands cracked from the cold, he never had time to tend to them.

 

He never imagined things could be like this.

 

With Xiao Langjun here, even this humble little house felt like a cozy nest.

 

Shui Que couldn’t understand the compiled official documents and started feeling a little bored.

 

Qi Chaojin picked up a sheet of Xuan paper from the side.

 

With brush in hand, he began sketching. Before long, an image of plum blossoms emerged vividly on the page.

 

A single branch bore nine plum blossoms, and each flower had nine petals.

 

He ground another inkstone, this time with cinnabar, and handed the brush to Shui Que.

 

Shui Que looked puzzled. “What’s this for?”

“A ‘Nine-Nine Cold Dispelling Chart,’” Qi Chaojin explained. “Starting from the Winter Solstice, we pass through eighty-one days in nine cycles of nine. Each day you color in one petal. When it’s all filled in, spring will have arrived.”

 

He had painted many such charts in the bookstore before, and families in the city often bought them to amuse their children who feared the cold.

 

Shui Que took the brush and colored one petal red.

 

Satisfied, he admired the plum blossom painting. “Then spring must be coming very soon, right?”

 

“Mhm.” Qi Chaojin used a handkerchief to wipe Shui Que’s cheek—probably smudged while striking the flint and then rubbing his face. “I’ve heard that in the palace, they have special coal called Rui Tan, it’s greenish-black in color, hard as iron, smokeless yet luminous.”

 

It didn’t choke and smoke like the usual charcoal or coal people used at home.

 

Shui Que looked up in admiration. “If only we could use that too…”

 

But Rui Tan was reserved for the royal family. At best, it might be bestowed as a reward to favored ministers.

 

Qi Chaojin’s eyes drooped slightly as his fingers idly rubbed the edge of the desk.

 

Actually, if they could afford the more expensive longan coal used by wealthy families, the smoke would already be much less.

 

That night, they made glutinous rice balls for the Winter Solstice. Qi Chaojin was rushing to finish calligraphy for the county yamen, hoping to submit it the next day and maybe get some new commissions.

 

He added three or four ounces of tung oil to the lamp and sprinkled in a bit of salt—this made the oil last longer.

 

Shui Que sat nearby, reading a travelogue borrowed from the academy by the light of the lamp.

 

Outside, the rain and snow worsened, falling heavily over the bamboo grove in the courtyard and piling into white mounds on the green-tiled roof.

 

The hanging bamboo blinds couldn’t keep the wind out—it howled as it blew through.

 

Shui Que let out a small sneeze.

 

Looking up, he saw Qi Chaojin watching him with concern. “Go to bed, it’ll be warmer there.”

 

Shui Que closed the book. “Then I’ll sleep first.”

 

As he spoke, he sneezed again.

 

…

 

The next day, the rain and snow had turned the roads into a muddy mess. Generally, snow or rain around the Winter Solstice signaled clear skies on New Year’s Eve.

 

Qi Chaojin needed to deliver the documents early, so he didn’t bring Shui Que along to Changzhou County.

 

By the time he returned, the sky was still overcast with no sun in sight—even though it should’ve been mid-morning by now.

 

He went into the kitchen. The porridge in the pot had gone cold, but it looked untouched.

 

Qi Chaojin felt a growing unease.

 

He walked into the bedroom.

 

Shui Que was still sleeping soundly, but his breathing was labored and his cheeks flushed. His forehead burned to the touch.

 

Qi Chaojin hurriedly sat him up and dressed him in outerwear and winter layers. But outside, it was still snowing, and the north wind was bitterly strong. Even with a cloak to shield them, carrying him through muddy snowy streets to Changzhou would take at least half an hour—he’d surely catch another chill.

 

Qi Chaojin rushed to Aunt Liu’s house to borrow an ox cart.

 

As it happened, her husband was heading into town and agreed to give them a ride.

 

At this hour, only the Jinzi Tiguan medical shop on Shiyu Street was still open.

 

They claimed their ancestors served in the imperial court and had the golden seal and purple ribbon to prove it.

 

Doctor Li stroked his white beard and cast a sideways glance at the anxious-looking scholar, then opened with a price: twenty thousand coins.

 

In Darong, medicine was a lucrative profession. Doctor Li had some reputation across Jiangnan, so even when he demanded sky-high prices, people still paid.

 

Where could Qi Chaojin possibly come up with twenty thousand coins right now?

 

He asked the doctor if he could defer the payment for the consultation and medicine.

 

Doctor Li glanced at the half-conscious Xiao Langjun in his arms, noting the abnormal flush on the boy’s face.

 

“I could wait, but can your Xiao Langjun afford to?” he said, stroking his beard.

 

The meaning was clear—no money, no treatment.

 

For a moment, Qi Chaojin’s face went completely blank.

 

Half-dreaming, Shui Que reached out from under the cloak and tugged on Qi Chaojin’s sleeve.

 

Qi Chaojin lowered his head to listen. “Are you in pain?” he asked worriedly.

 

Shui Que’s breath was burning hot. In a soft voice, he murmured, “Qi Lang… let’s go home. I’ll get better on my own…”

 

Qi Chaojin frowned deeply. “Don’t talk nonsense. You can’t delay treating a fever.”

 

But he could recover on his own…

 

Just slowly.

 

Shui Que burned up like this every year.

 

By his own count, it was exactly the season when it happened. After catching some cold wind, his body naturally began its annual round of detox.

 

Qi Chaojin carried him outside, frantic enough to consider pawning something.

 

In a feverish daze, Shui Que tried to calm him. “Don’t panic…”

 

Four horses neighed loudly as a bright red lacquered carriage pulled up at the street corner. The fur-lined curtain was lifted, and a well-defined hand reached out to pull Shui Que’s drooping hood back over his head.

 

Only to flinch from the burning heat it encountered.

 

Cui Shixin asked, “What happened? A fever?”

 

Without waiting for an answer, he lifted the curtain fully and ordered someone to help them into the carriage.

 

“Imperial Physician Du from the capital just returned home to visit family. Get in—go to my house first. I’ll send for Physician Du right away.”

 

The carriage had soft tiger-skin quilts, a pinewood frame, and a warm stove in the center burning smokeless lychee coal that gave off a faint fruity scent.

 

The fur curtain fell closed behind them.

 

Qi Chaojin placed Shui Que down gently onto the soft bedding.

 

“Thank you, Third Young Master Cui.”

 

Cui Shixin shot him a cold glance and replied flatly, “What are you thanking me for?”

 

He turned anxiously to check Shui Que’s forehead. “Why is your fever so high?”

 

Compared to the heat radiating from Shui Que’s skin, his hand felt cool. Instinctively, Shui Que rubbed his cheek lightly against the warmth of his palm.

 

When they arrived at the Cui residence, the three of them got out of the carriage. Cui Shixin instructed the driver to take a detour to the old home of Physician Du in the northern part of the city to request his presence.

 

Had it been anyone else, they wouldn’t have been able to get him. After all, Physician Du belonged to the Hanlin Academy’s medical bureau, a doctor who catered exclusively to the imperial family and nobility.

 

But since this was the prestigious Cui family in the capital, and given that Cui Shixin’s mother, Madam Du Si, was related to Physician Du by blood, inviting him over wasn’t a problem.

 

After passing through the outer ceremonial gate and the covered corridors, they reached the front courtyard. There, Father Cui and Madam Du Si were sitting in the pavilion, boiling tea over an olive charcoal stove, sipping slowly. Lacquered and intricately carved screens flanked them on both sides, while gauze curtains hung low behind.

 

When Madam Du Si saw Cui Shixin enter with two others—one of them being carried—she quickly followed her husband to the west wing to ask, “My child, is this your classmate? What happened?”

 

Cui Shixin helped Shui Que into the heated chamber and laid him down under the bed canopy. The room had firewalls: heat was channeled through hollow walls from fires stoked outside, making it as warm as spring inside.

 

Madam Du Si looked at the pale face of the young man on the bed and gasped in alarm. “Oh dear, what poor family’s delicate child is this, burning up like this?”

 

Shui Que, groggy and barely conscious, forced his eyes open. Seeing a gentle woman in his blurry vision, he vaguely recognized her as Cui Shixin’s mother and weakly called out, “Auntie…”

 

Madam Du Si’s eyes grew red with emotion at the sight of his suffering.

 

She quickly sent a servant to fetch stored ice from the residence’s ice cellar to help cool him down.

 

Father Cui wanted to send for another doctor, but Cui Shixin stopped him. “I’ve already sent someone to get Physician Du.”

 

Qi Chaojin stood quietly to the side, neither humble nor arrogant, and greeted them, “Lord Cui, Madam.”

 

Father Cui recognized him—an outstanding young man from their county—and responded with a serious nod.

 

Physician Du arrived not long after.

 

After examining Shui Que, he bluntly stated that the fever was severe. He immediately performed acupuncture and prescribed medicine, instructing a servant to go to the pharmacy and have it filled.

 

Before leaving, he said, “I’ll return over the next two days to continue acupuncture. He needs to be cooled with ice packs, and his condition must be closely monitored at night.”

 

Following Cui Shixin’s instructions, the servant carried a box of silver as payment for the initial house call and escorted the physician to his carriage.

 

The treatment would continue over the next couple of days.

 

Qi Chaojin lowered his eyelids slightly.

 

The room had a Chinese giant redwood bed, a white jade pillow, embroidered silk quilts, and a pearl-threaded canopy. Even the narrow-necked celadon vase inside held flowers that didn’t belong to this season—vibrant peonies and delicate peach blossoms.

 

After the acupuncture, Shui Que had already drifted into deep sleep. Cui Shixin placed the ice pack carefully on his forehead.

 

The corners of Shui Que’s eyes were flushed red from the fever.

 

Such a delicate Xiao Langjun should have been nurtured in a place sheltered from the cold winds.

 

Qi Chaojin’s fingers curled slightly at his side.

 

Sensing the awkward air between the two young men, Madam Du Si gently broke the silence. “This must be another one of my child’s classmates? Why not stay here at the Cui residence for now? We have plenty of spare guest rooms. It’d save the poor sick boy from being moved back and forth. He can return home once he’s recovered.”

 

“Thank you for your kind offer, Madam.” Qi Chaojin cupped his hands and lowered his gaze, hiding any emotion in his eyes. “Traveling in the wind and snow is indeed troublesome, so I’ll leave my younger brother, Shui Que, here for now. But since there’s no one to care for things at home, I can’t stay.”

 

That was clearly a farewell.

 

Father Cui and Madam Du Si exchanged a few more polite words with him. When they invited him to stay for a meal, he gently declined and finally said in a low voice, “Please trouble Third Young Master Cui to take care of Shui Que.”

 

In his sleep, Shui Que turned over slightly, and the ice pack slipped off. Cui Shixin didn’t have time to bother with Qi Chaojin anymore; he picked the ice pack back up from the pillow and placed it back carefully.

 

He casually replied, “No need to say more. I’ll take good care of him. I won’t let him catch a chill.”

 

Qi Chaojin stayed silent for a moment before finally taking his leave.

 

Madam Du Si hadn’t asked anything earlier since Shui Que’s brother was still around, but now that he was gone, she took the chance to ask, “That boy—is he your beloved? You went to learn embroidery from Master He earlier, was it to make a pouch for him?”

 

Cui Shixin: “…Yes.”

 

Father Cui didn’t concern himself with his children’s personal matters and had no opinion on the matter.

Madam Du Si, on the other hand, said, “Then why were you so cold to his elder brother? If things work out between you two, he’d become your brother-in-law…”

 

Cui Shixin didn’t want to explain the complicated situation to his mother, but he couldn’t help muttering coldly, “What kind of brother-in-law would he be?”

 

…

 

A servant brought the decocted medicine.

 

Cui Shixin gently coaxed Shui Que to sit up against his chest, blew on the hot liquid to cool it, then held the porcelain spoon near Shui Que’s lips. “Ah—“

 

Shui Que kept his eyes closed, but Cui Shixin knew he was awake—the way his lips were tightly pressed together said it all. He clearly didn’t want to take the medicine.

 

Cui San was the youngest son of the Cui family, and he had never served anyone in his life. Now, he was at a complete loss.

 

He pinched Shui Que’s cheek, managing to force his clenched jaw open, and poured the medicinal soup through the gap between his lips.

 

Once the porcelain spoon was empty, Cui Shixin let out a breath of relief—only for Shui Que to immediately spit the medicine back out.

 

His small face scrunched up as if Cui San had abused him.

 

Like he’d suffered a great injustice.

 

The dark, bitter medicine had stained both their clothes.

 

What’s more, the outfit Cui Shixin was wearing today was the same one Shui Que had vomited wine onto during the Double Ninth Festival banquet.

 

“You’re sick, you need to take medicine,” Cui Shixin tried to reason with the little sickling. “How can you get better if you don’t drink the medicine? Come on, open up, ah—”

 

But Shui Que stubbornly refused to open his mouth.

 

Forcing it only made him spit it out.

 

Cui Shixin was at his wit’s end.

 

Madam Du Si, who came by again to check on the situation, laughed at him. “You really don’t know a thing, do you? A pampered little thing like him needs coaxing. This medicine’s so bitter—you expect him to drink it plain?”

 

Cui Shixin was confused. “But when I’m sick, I also just…”

 

“How can you compare yourself to him?” Madam Du Si picked up a piece of carved candied fruit from the porcelain dish on the table and walked over to coax him. “Be good now, let’s have some sweet candied fruit.”

 

Shui Que still had a little clarity left in him. When he heard this, he instinctively opened his mouth.

The sweet, sugary fruit entered—it was just enough to mask the bitterness from earlier.

 

Madam Du Si continued coaxing, “Such a good boy. Take a sip of the medicine, and then you get another candy, how about that?”

 

He was still foggy from the illness, and his brain worked slowly. After a long moment, he finally understood.

 

He nodded slightly.

 

Madam Du Si signaled to Cui Shixin.

 

Cui Shixin seized the opportunity and fed Shui Que a spoonful of the medicine.

 

Madam Du Si handed over the porcelain dish with candied fruits. This time, Cui Shixin followed her example and picked up a piece of cooled fruit, bringing it to Shui Que’s lips.

 

Cui San watched as a little reddish tongue flicked out and wrapped around it.

 

A trace of moisture remained on his fingertips, and he stared at it in a daze for a long moment.

 

By the time he came to his senses, his mother had already vanished.

 

Cui Shixin found a bit of joy in this routine.

 

Coaxing the little sickling—take a spoonful of medicine, then a bite of something sweet.

 

To draw it out, he started scooping less and less medicine into each spoonful.

 

In the end, Shui Que, dazed and groggy, could no longer bear the torment. He grabbed the bowl with both hands and drank it all in one go.

 

While chewing on his candied fruit, he angrily bit Cui Shixin’s finger.

 

He left a faint, shallow white bite mark.

 

Cui San stared at that bite mark, utterly dazed.

 

There was a hint of obsession in his eyes.

 

Shui Que still had a fever and couldn’t bathe, lest his temperature fluctuate again.

 

Cui Shixin didn’t want to entrust him to anyone else, so before bed that night, he had the attendants bring in a basin of hot water. He soaked a towel and gently wiped down Shui Que’s body.

 

Then he changed him into a clean inner shirt and underpants.

 

In fact, he had secretly prepared several sets of underclothes in Shui Que’s size.

 

Not for any particular reason.

 

Someone needed to watch over Shui Que throughout the night.

 

So Cui Shixin crawled into the bed curtains and wrapped his arms around him.

 

Still, he told himself it meant nothing.

 

Shui Que wasn’t conscious—drifting in and out of sleep, he likely mistook him for Qi Er and gave him a kick.

 

Then muttered, “My feet are cold…”

 

His voice was soft and sticky, dragging at the end, and he told him to go to the foot of the bed and warm them.

 

Cui Shixin didn’t react at first, so Shui Que leaned in to hug him again, urging him to hurry.

 

Inside the bed curtains, it was filled with the thick, sweet scent that lingered on Xiao Langjun’s body.

 

Cui Shixin remained dazed.

 

Shui Que murmured softly, “You’re not listening to me anymore…”

 

Eyes still closed, he moved as if he had kissed this man many times before—familiar and practiced—finding Cui Shixin’s lips with ease.

 

Their lips met, and that same moist, reddish tongue Cui San had seen earlier slipped in clumsily, actively seeking his.

 

Before long, he seemed to grow tired and bossed people around with full confidence, “Hurry up and go!”

 

By the time Cui Shixin came to his senses, he was already at the foot of the bed, warming someone’s feet.

 

Honestly, it wasn’t anything special.

 

He, the third son of the Cui family, had grown up with luxury and loving, open-minded parents.

 

What hadn’t he gotten in life? What was there to be dissatisfied about?

 

Damn it—what kind of good life had Qi Er been living behind their backs all this time?!

 

The thought consumed Cui Shixin with jealousy. He lost sleep over it night after night.

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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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