Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 75

Chapter 75: The Snobbish Black Moonlight (24)

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The rain was pouring down relentlessly, as if someone had punched a hole in the sky over Changzhou County and was now flooding it with water.

 

Even during past rainy seasons, there had never been a downpour this heavy.

 

But just a few mountain ranges away in Suwu Prefecture, the weather hadn’t been affected much at all. It was just a light drizzle there—and it had even cleared up on the day of the autumn examinations.

 

Rumors spread among the locals that even the officials specially dispatched from the capital to supervise the exams were calling it an auspicious sign. This year, the scholars and candidates from Jiangzhou might perform better than in previous years.

 

Qi Chaojin knew nothing about any of this.

 

All he had on his mind was finishing the exam quickly—quickly—because he’d heard that it was pouring in Changzhou and was unsure if there had been summer thunderstorms. He worried that Shui Que, all alone at home, would be scared.

 

He finished the exam with his head down and, unlike other scholars who lingered in Suwu to take in the rain-drenched lotus blooms from boats, he immediately hired a carriage and rushed back to Changzhou.

 

The moment he reentered Changzhou territory, he was startled.

 

The days-long downpour had swollen the rivers, turning them into raging torrents.


The wooden bridge leading in and out of Qinghe Village was on the verge of being swept away.

 

With wind and rain lashing at him from the side, Qi Chaojin pressed down on his conical hat and waded through the river, white sheets of rain blurring his vision.

 

Several tiles had been blown off the roof of his home and lay shattered in the courtyard, fragments littering the ground.

 

He searched inside and out, but found no trace of Shui Que.

 

Qi Chaojin hurried around the clusters of banana trees behind the house to look for Aunt Liu’s place.

 

The rain had lessened by then. Huzi was inside playing with fighting crickets, while Aunt Liu and her husband, clad in straw raincoats, were busy trying to stop the leaking roof.

 

Their thatched house, worn down over the years, always became uninhabitable during the rainy season and needed a new layer of straw or wheat stalks.

 

Qi Chaojin called through the rain, “Aunt Liu, have you seen Shui Que?”

 

She was in the middle of bickering with her husband about the roof but still answered distractedly, yelling back, “What? Haven’t seen Xiao Shui Langjun these past few days. He hasn’t come over to eat either. With this much rain, maybe he’s gone to stay in town?”

 

When it rained heavily, Qinghe Village—being low-lying—was prone to flooding and collapsing houses. It wouldn’t be strange if someone had gone into town to stay at an inn.

 

She reminded Qi Chaojin, “Check your house. Maybe he left a note? He couldn’t have just run off without a trace, right?”

 

“Okay, okay.”

 

Qi Chaojin was panicked, fearing Shui Que had met with some accident in the storm. Aunt Liu’s suggestion snapped him out of it, and he went back home to search through drawers and boxes.

 

There were no notes left on the blank paper on the table.

 

Instead, in the drawer of the wooden cabinet, he found a thick stack of correspondence.

 

Letters from Wei Yan and Nie Xiuyuan.

 

Qi Chaojin had always known Shui Que corresponded with the two of them. After all, the couriers came to Qinghe five or six times a month.

 

But he hadn’t expected the accumulated letters to amount to such a hefty bundle.

 

There weren’t really any suggestive words in them.

 

Especially Headmaster Nie’s letters—they were all formal greetings, cautious and conservative in tone, strictly written as from a mentor to a student.

 

Qi Chaojin’s fingers trembled as he flipped through the pages filled with familiar handwriting. He thought to himself that Shui Que would surely be angry if he knew he had been snooping. Though he didn’t read them in detail, he couldn’t stop himself from scanning a few lines.

 

Certain words caught his eye, and a sour ache spread through him, his eyes stinging like he hadn’t blinked in a long time.

 

He hadn’t known that Marquis Anyuan’s heir had invited Shui Que to the capital multiple times.


And it had started as early as last year.

 

One letter mentioned that at the end of last year, the little marquis had asked if Shui Que would go with him to the capital.

 

Even though he was sure Shui Que had refused, Qi Chaojin still felt a heavy weight in his chest, like a massive stone pressing down on his heart.

 

Uneasy, he quickly stacked the letters neatly again so Shui Que wouldn’t find any sign that they had been disturbed.

 

Through the endless sound of rain, he still caught the distant beat of hooves approaching from outside the village.

 

And there he was—no hat, no raincoat, just straw sandals squelching through the wet, looking for someone outside the courtyard.

 

Wearing a rain-resistant robe, Xiao Langjun stood outside the gate, staring at him in surprise and asking, “Qi Lang, why aren’t you taking shelter from the rain?”

 

Qi Chaojin didn’t answer. He had seen the carriage disappearing into the curtain of white rain.

 

One of the horses pulling it was a white dragon colt.

 

In all of southern Jiangnan, there was only one like it—it belonged to the Little Marquis Wei.

 

It was easy to guess why he hadn’t returned to the capital to receive his reward after his mission to suppress the bandits, and instead stayed here, in remote little Changzhou.

 

“Where have you been?”

 

Soaking wet and without any rain gear, the young man looked completely bedraggled, nothing like his usual calm and composed self.

 

“The rain’s been so heavy. Where have you been these past few days?”

 

Shui Que guiltily pushed him inside, not wanting to talk in the rain.

 

He looked a little flustered and spoke in a small voice, “I… The thunder and rain were so loud, and with Qi Lang gone, I was scared being alone.”

 

He was so delicate—his brows and eyes slightly damp from the rain, looking stunning.

 

In thunderstorm weather, he needed someone to hold him, to comfort him.

 

Once inside, the house was dim—no lamps lit in the gloomy, rainy weather.

 

Qi Chaojin’s expression was hard to make out. His voice was hoarse. “Did you stay at the heir’s residence?”

 

Shui Que didn’t deny it, nor did he nod. He only said, “The tiles blew off and shattered… Wei Yan said he had a lot of spare rooms over there…”

 

He spoke haltingly, barely stringing the story together.

 

It wasn’t hard to imagine—Marquis Anyuan’s heir must have picked up the scared, rain-soaked Xiao Langjun from the leaky cottage and brought him back.

 

Qi Chaojin quietly apologized, “I didn’t expect the rain would be so heavy this year. I should’ve taken you with me to Suwu.”

 

Over there, it was only a gentle drizzle.

 

He could’ve looked after Shui Que himself,
and not let someone else trick him away with sweet words.

 

Did Wei Yan comfort him when it thundered?

 

Did he hold him close?

 

Would he really kiss him?

 

That very thought pierced Qi Chaojin’s heart for a moment.

 

Rain pelted against the bamboo blinds, flapping them open with the wind.

 

In the dim, shifting light, he carefully studied Shui Que’s lips.

 

They seemed unmarked—yet somehow too vivid in color. Had his lips always been this plump?

 

Shui Que let out a startled cry.

 

Qi Chaojin, soaked from head to toe, suddenly lifted him into his arms.

 

Shui Que had no choice but to wrap his arms around Qi Chaojin’s neck.

 

His back was pressed against the half-open wooden door when a storm of kisses rained down on him with overwhelming force.

 

The frequency of the kisses was no less relentless than the raindrops drumming on the roof outside.

 

The light green raincloak draped over him slipped to the ground, completely forgotten.

 

It was summer. Though it rained, Shui Que still wore a thin, cool robe underneath—a moon-white gauzy fabric, as sheer as mist.

 

Qi Chaojin’s clothes were soaked from the rain, and now pressed against Shui Que, his thin robe quickly absorbed the moisture too, turning damp and clingy.

 

Shui Que shivered.

 

“Don’t… don’t kiss anymore.” He tried to push Qi Chaojin’s head away, but couldn’t budge him at all. “Go change your clothes, you’re completely soaked…”

 

A large hand supported him from below, lifting him to a height that made Shui Que feel unsteady. With a lack of security, he instinctively clung tighter to Qi Chaojin’s waist with his thighs.

 

He pushed again but Qi Chaojin didn’t move an inch.

 

Instead, he lowered his head and buried it against him.

 

Qi Chaojin’s elegant brow bone and nose bridge pressed deeply into Shui Que’s soft, heaving skin.

 

His body radiated a feverish heat—perhaps from the rain—intense and burning.

 

Shui Que felt a bit uncomfortable. Qi Chaojin, clinging to him, was both freezing and scorching at once.

 

The thick, sweet scent wrapped around Qi Chaojin, finally anchoring his scattered thoughts. In a deep voice, he asked, “All these days… has he kissed you?”

 

Shui Que replied guiltily, “No, no… we’re just friends.”

 

Just a friend who kissed him once to shut him up.

 

Was the male lead already suspicious of him? Shui Que felt uneasy. Was it too early for that?

 

Did he slip up?

 

He was so afraid there’d be a trace left behind, he hadn’t even let Wei Yan kiss him a second time.

 

Qi Chaojin’s voice was low. “Really?”

 

Shui Que nodded quickly. “Mhm, mhm.”

 

Even after getting a reply, Qi Chaojin didn’t raise his head. His eyes were dark, and he looked so off-kilter that the corners of his eyes had turned red.

 

Through the thin veil of fabric, a rough tongue rubbed against him. Xiao Langjun’s breath caught—like he couldn’t take it anymore. His neck arched backward like a swan awaiting its fate, pushing his flat chest up in the process.

 

The soaked robe clung to his skin, revealing beneath it the faint outline of soft, pale flesh.

 

Shui Que thought Qi Chaojin was going to bite it off. Trembling, nearly sobbing, he whimpered, “Don’t… don’t eat me…”

 

His whole body trembled, even the base of his thighs shaking.

 

He was already dazed, only able to plead with Qi Chaojin, repeating in a sweet and jumbled mess that they were just friends, hadn’t kissed or hugged, and that he only liked Qi Lang.

 

When Qi Chaojin finally lifted his head, a soft “pop” echoed in the air.

 

A red, round swelling stood out in the cool air. Shui Que, lightheaded, even imagined steam rising from his chest.

 

Taking advantage of Shui Que’s dazed state, Qi Chaojin had gently pecked his cheek, and with clear eyes asked, “Do all your words count? You only like me?”

 

Shui Que’s eyes were misty. “Mhm.”

 

Qi Chaojin pressed his forehead to Shui Que’s. “Then let’s get married, alright?”

 

“Shui Que, let’s get married, alright?”

 

He asked again and again, his eyes full of earnest pleading.

 

Shui Que was already at a point where no matter what Qi Chaojin said, he would nod and agree.

 

………

 

Qi Chaojin was truly anxious.

 

He said they should get married right after the results were posted on the honor board—on the fifteenth of August.

 

Maybe he had also considered that, given their current circumstances, it wouldn’t be possible to hold a grand, lavish ceremony just yet.

 

“After I pass the palace exam and am granted an official post, I’ll request a reward from His Majesty. Then we’ll hold a formal wedding,” Qi Chaojin said seriously. “But for the Mid-Autumn Festival, just the two of us—we’ll drink the nuptial wine. How does that sound?”

 

He was worried Shui Que might think he was tricking him into marriage.

 

Qi Chaojin kissed Shui Que’s dark hair. “If you’re unwilling, I won’t touch you. We’ll just have a simple ceremony for now, and continue living as we have. Is that alright?”

 

It was as if he had some kind of obsession—he just wanted to drink nuptial wine with Shui Que.

 

Shui Que’s head was full of storyline progress. Of course he didn’t care.

 

He said, “Mhm, mhm. Qi Lang and I are of one heart. This is enough.”

 

The honor board results were posted on the thirteenth.

 

Drums pounded, gongs clanged, the streets bustled with people and red ribbons on horses. Someone hurriedly ran over to announce the good news, shouting, “Top scorer! Top scorer! Qi Erlang is the provincial top scorer!”

 

Qi Erlang, who had earned the top provincial score, was still diligently writing their marriage contract. Sheets of red paper were cut into large, double happiness characters.

 

When the scissors slipped and the cut wasn’t quite right, he simply pulled out a new red sheet and started over.

 

He worked day and night to finish their wedding clothes.

 

He’d already bought the finest silk they could afford and wanted to make the embroidery absolutely perfect.

 

On the fourteenth was the “Deer Call Banquet,” organized by local gentry and the county yamen to celebrate those who passed the autumn imperial exam.

 

Vegetables, meat, tables, dishes—all arranged by the best restaurants in the county.

 

“What do you mean by this?” Cui Shixin grabbed Shui Que’s shoulders. “You’re really going to marry Qi Erlang?”

 

Shui Que was still chewing on a sticky rice ball, speaking with his mouth full, “Yeah, it’s going to be a bit simple for now. Once we’re in the capital and Qi Lang has an official title, we’ll hold a proper ceremony.”

 

Cui Shixin gave him a side glance, speaking lightly, “Even if Qi Erlang becomes the top scholar, he’ll still have to follow precedent and start as a compiler at the Hanlin Academy. That’s just a sixth-rank post—his annual salary is only about five hundred taels of silver. You like good food and fine drink, and coarser fabrics hurt your skin—can he really afford to support you?”

 

He knew Shui Que didn’t know the full picture, so he deliberately only mentioned the base salary.

 

In truth, Darong was a land of great wealth. Since the new emperor had ascended the throne, the nation’s strength had been on the rise. Besides base pay, officials received many imperial rewards—tea, wine, salt, silk, horses, food, firewood. These extra perks often doubled the base income.

 

Not to mention the estates and properties granted by the emperor—properly managed, they brought in a substantial income on their own.

 

Shui Que pursed his lips and didn’t reply.

 

He seemed swayed by Cui Shixin’s words.

 

In any case, the image of Xiao Langjun as a greedy, luxury-loving beauty was deeply rooted.

 

Cui Shixin raised an eyebrow and began listing all the lands and estates his Cui family owned in the capital—so many that Shui Que felt dizzy just listening.

 

Cui Shixin had placed second in the exam, right after Qi Erlang. Still, he added, “Besides, who’s to say who the top scholar will actually be…”

 

Shui Que snuck a glance at him.

 

If he remembered the plot correctly, the male lead was definitely the top scholar. Cui San was originally second place, but because of the order, the third place—an average-looking man—would be bumped up to second, and Cui San would be made the third-ranked, the “Flower Snatcher.”

 

Cui San would definitely be unhappy about that.

 

At some point, Qi Chaojin had come over to their table and quietly led Shui Que away.

 

He looked gently at Shui Que and said softly, “I’ve finished sewing the wedding robes.”

 

As the wedding day approached, his heart finally seemed to settle, a sense of calm settling in.

 

….

 

On the fifteenth of August, a bright full moon hung in the sky.

 

Shui Que said he wanted to attend the lantern festival, walk beneath the moon, and wait until midnight to return and put on their wedding robes to drink nuptial wine.

 

On a day like this, Qi Chaojin naturally let him do as he pleased.

 

Especially since that rainy day, Shui Que had not had any further contact with Marquis Anyuan’s heir. Qi Chaojin felt as if he had finally taken a calming pill—his heart, once weighed down by a heavy stone, was now almost entirely at ease.

 

Beneath the swaying moonlight, festival-goers from the county moved in pairs, singing as they walked. The streets and alleys bloomed with blazing lights and brilliant lanterns, casting a warm, radiant glow.

 

Pleasure boats along the riverside were filled with music and laughter, as people drank and sang. The sheng and flute music echoed through the mountain ponds, lively and boisterous.

 

Crowds surged by the riverside, hawkers shouted out their wares, and the flickering lights from torches cast shimmering shadows. For a brief moment, Qi Chaojin felt lost and disoriented. He spotted a small stall set up by a traveling peddler, and among the goods, he saw a mohele doll dressed in ornate miniature clothing, standing proudly. It looked about thirty to forty percent like Shui Que.

 

He reached out instinctively to take someone’s hand—only to grab at thin air.

 

The blur of people and shadows made his heart pound in confusion, and the blood drained from his face. “Shui Que?”

 

“Shui Que!”

 

As if sensing something, Shui Que lifted his gaze. Hidden among a few pleasure boats, he looked toward the shore.

 

Drums and music filled the air. The crowd bustled, chatter and laughter blending into a lively din.

 

System 77 chimed in, brimming with joy: 【Host! The story has progressed to 80%!】

 

Shui Que gave a slight nod.

 

He worried the male lead would realize he was trying to run, so he hadn’t packed much.

 

He only wore the clothes on his back, but at least he’d left behind plenty of “evidence” of flirtations and entanglements with others.

 

The male lead would surely realize he was just a superficial beauty who disdained the poor and loved the rich, a manipulative black moonlight who swindled both money and affection. Once he uncovered the truth, he’d surely cut ties and rise up, free of love’s burdens.

 

Shui Que’s role had nothing to do with the male lead’s bureaucratic rise.

 

So, his next objective was to be thoroughly neglected and die of sorrow!

 

Shui Que clenched his fists and cheered himself on.

 

Except… Wei Yan didn’t seem like he was going to neglect him at all.

 

He hovered around like a large clingy dog, circling him constantly, occasionally hugging and kissing him. But without Shui Que’s permission, he only dared to kiss his cheek.

 

The night breeze was slightly chilly. Wei Yan shielded him from the wind as the ferry gradually pulled away from Changzhou County.

 

Suddenly, Wei Yan growled with frustration, “I really didn’t expect it—your so-called distant cousin actually harbored those kinds of thoughts about you, even wanting to marry you!”

 

No wonder Shui Que had so anxiously insisted on heading to the capital by the night of the Mid-Autumn Festival.

 

Had they waited past tonight, who knows what that Qi Er might have done—perhaps he’d already forced them to drink a wedding toast together and claimed him!

 

Wei Yan gnawed lightly on Shui Que’s soft pale cheek and muttered near his pillow, “Just one look at that guy, and I could tell he’s full of bad intentions. Even if you’re distant relatives, it’s still taboo between cousins! This is practically an illicit affair!”

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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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