Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 85

Chapter 85: The Child from the Pay-to-Win Parenting Game (2)

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No one should have noticed his small movement.

 

Seeing Garrick suffer a loss, Shui Que felt smug. The corners of his lips curled up, and in his good mood, he twisted his waist a little, his head swaying along.

 

But when he looked up, he found Dorian sitting across from him. Through the candelabra and dishes, a pair of lake-blue eyes—deep and still like ancient wells—was fixed on him.

 

There was no expression on that face, so Shui Que couldn’t tell how Dorian felt about him.

 

Although Dorian had the same sharp and handsome features as Garrick, his face carried far more calmness and aloofness.

 

Shui Que felt awkward for a moment, realizing his behavior just now had been a bit childish.

 

He straightened his back and sat upright.

 

But then, he still glared at Dorian.

 

He mouthed silently, “Don’t look at me.”

 

So bossy.

 

It was clearly Shui Que who had stolen the seat, causing Dorian to sit directly opposite him, yet now he wouldn’t even let the other person look at him.

 

If Dorian wasn’t allowed to look his way, then for the entire dinner, the eldest son would have no choice but to stare down at his silver dinner plate, studying the lily patterns carved into his knife and fork.

 

Dorian withdrew his gaze.

 

Dinner had only just begun.

 

Aside from the dishes already placed on the long table at the start, there were three courses in total, with several dishes in each.

 

Once placed on the table, each dish would be cut and portioned using the communal utensils. The lord at the head of the table would start, taking a portion onto his own plate, then passing it down the line according to seating order.

 

Each person was expected to take just enough—not too much or too little—only as much as suited their appetite, ensuring they could finish what was on their plate.

 

Therefore, from the head of the table to the far end, there was usually a little left of each dish.

 

These leftover meats, vegetables, fruits, and wines would all be distributed after dinner to the lowest-ranking servants in the castle and to the poor within the territory.

 

If it was a holiday feast, the lord would instruct the castle kitchen to prepare far more food than needed, ensuring there was ample to distribute to the serfs after the banquet.

 

Thus, in this era, food wasn’t just about sustaining life—it was also tied to family honor.

 

The plate of almond milk-braised venison was passed to him.

 

Shui Que only cut a small piece because he saw there were still four or five more meat dishes being carried in by the attendants for the first course.

 

He couldn’t possibly eat his fill on the first course alone.

 

When he passed the braised venison to Garrick, he deliberately made eye contact, clearly gloating that Garrick had to eat after him.

 

Guan He had been quiet ever since assigning the Action Points.

 

He double-checked the schedule, confirming that it indeed said “Get along with NPC Garrick.”

 

Guan He muttered, “I didn’t assign the Action Points wrong, did I?”

 

【He passed the plate properly and didn’t dump the food onto Second Brother’s face… That’s friendly enough, isn’t it?】


【Still just a baby—indulge him a little.】

 

To be thorough, he even checked Garrick’s affection panel toward Shui Que.

 

【NPC Garrick Favorability: 41】


【Impression: Bad-tempered little brother, stingy, crybaby】

 

Guan He agreed with the last part.

 

He really had never seen someone’s mood drop so fast—once Shui Que started crying, the tears just wouldn’t stop, soaking the felt fabric.

 

And…

 

He looked so pitiful.

 

He cried so prettily—long eyelashes wet and clumped together, cheeks flushed red—and he didn’t even make a sound.

 

Guan He thought he would be extremely annoyed. He hated all children, including teenagers, especially boys who cried over the smallest things.

 

But he wasn’t.

 

His first reaction was that the kid looked too pitiful—he just wanted to comfort him.

 

By the time he came to his senses, he had already hit “Confirm Payment.”

 

This was Guan He’s first time playing a parenting simulation game. He usually streamed holographic mech battle games. His stream didn’t even have a tip jar; most of his income came from popular mech league tournaments or sponsorship deals based on his stream’s popularity.

 

Combat games had official leagues and big prize pools, but simulation games were only good for squeezing money out of players.

 

That was how Guan He saw it.

 

Although the character he pulled was pretty cute, he had made up his mind not to let the game company trick another cent from his account.

 

Dinner stretched on slowly for over an hour before finally nearing its end.

 

From start to finish, Shui Que didn’t say a single word to his father, Count Louis.

 

According to the character’s backstory, at this point, Shui Que was still in a cold war with his father—cold-blooded, indifferent, unwilling to help, and even remarried.

 

Count Louis had opened and closed his mouth several times but ultimately held back, maintaining his noble bearing at the long table and not attempting to reconcile with Shui Que.

 

After finishing his meal, Shui Que’s task “Get along with Garrick” was marked complete, meaning his Action Points had been successfully used up.

 

So this time, he didn’t refuse the help of the servant John and allowed him to carry him upstairs.

 

After a short rest, Shui Que took a bath and changed into silk pajamas. He still had to complete his second task: “Read the Holy Book.”

 

The castle’s second floor had a family library.

 

He asked John to carry him there, even though a heavy wheelchair was placed right outside his bedroom door.

 

At this time, the thick goose-feather curtains all over the second floor of the castle were finally pulled open.

 

The galaxy shone brightly, stars twinkling. The wooden shutters were wide open, and the breeze carried the scent of ferns, lilies, and juniper from by the moat.

 

The library was reserved for literate members of the household. It was spacious, and all the bookshelves held volumes from the Louis family’s collection.

 

The pages were made of parchment, all handwritten. Each parchment book was stitched together with leather and bound in fur-lined cloth.

 

So the entire library carried not only the scent of wax from the wall-mounted candleholders but also a faint musky smell of sheepskin and dried grass.

 

Shui Que directed John to place him on a cushion in the middle of the pinewood bookshelves.

 

He sat down. The cushion was stuffed with kapok and leaves from the fragrant nanmu tree—soft and springy, it sank under his weight.

 

Within arm’s reach, the lower two or three shelves mostly held fable picture books and some literary novels.

 

There were no prayer books, no Book of Revelations or hymnals, not even Tuvan histories.

 

In the entire vast library, only the aisle between these two shelves had thick rugs and cushions, and even the books on these shelves were all light reading.

 

It was easy to tell—this peaceful little corner had always been prepared for the sickly young master.

 

Though John was a male servant, his status was far beneath that of the castle’s priestly stewards and squires. His father had only been a tenant farmer, and John had been lucky to be chosen to serve in the castle. Having never received a formal education, unless given direct orders by his master, John wasn’t allowed to enter the library.

 

Even when he did, he could only set down the young master and then retreat to the faraway doorway to await the next instruction.

 

This rule was meant to prevent uneducated fools with rough hands from damaging the precious parchment books.

 

Shui Que couldn’t move his legs. Sitting on the ground, he lowered his gaze and clumsily folded his legs in front of him, so he could lean forward more easily and reach the books on the shelf.

 

There were two or three floor cushions, and this one was the largest, its velvet surface embroidered with the Louis family’s emblem—the sweet flag iris.

 

The long nightgown was almost like a sleeping dress, reaching down to the ankles and able to cover the legs entirely.

 

Sitting cross-legged like this, Shui Que’s entire lower body sank deep into the cushion.

 

[Shui Que is curled up on the cushion, so tiny.]


[This clumsy little bird… so pitiful. Watching him obediently tuck in his feet made Mom tear up.]


[It’s all the streamer’s fault for drawing such a garbage debuff.]

 

Because he had inherited the data and memories, Que Louis—had been receiving literacy lessons from a tutor since the age of seven. This allowed him to skim book titles at a glance.

 

Shui Que scanned the bookshelf one by one but didn’t find anything resembling a so-called “Holy Book.”

 

He randomly pulled out a book whose cover had no title.

 

Upon opening it, he saw mostly illustrations painted in tempera—pigment mixed with egg yolk.

 

In a few days, when his tutor returned to the castle after visiting family, Shui Que would also begin learning how to paint with this mixture of egg white and plant-based dyes.

 

The parchment pages depicted various flowers and herbs. The sky was cloudless, and there was a skeletal dragon spreading its wings.

 

A dragon?

 

Shui Que leaned in, eyes wide and unblinking as he examined it closely.

 

Anyone could tell he was captivated by the skeletal dragon in the illustration.

 

[OMG this baby should be looking at picture books like this…]


[Why are you forcing him to read the Holy Book?! Old man, say something!]

 

Guan He: “…”

 

Of course, it was because the action list only allowed this choice, and in small print it said, “Reading will increase Intelligence +1.” With every 100 points of Intelligence only raising the brainpower slightly, you’d have to read the Holy Book a hundred times to make any meaningful improvement.

 

Naturally, Shui Que had no idea what Guan He was thinking.

 

He was a little lost in the book.

 

The skeletal dragon was vividly drawn, lifelike. On the next page, there was a battalion of knights marching into a mountain valley along a winding path.

 

Someone walked past, stirring a soft breeze. The candle flames flickered, and Shui Que snapped out of it, suddenly realizing he had completely forgotten about the Holy Book.

 

He looked up, his eyes sore. There were no lamps—only the moonlight through the shutters and the dim firelight in the room, which made reading exhausting.

 

It was Dorian.

 

The other seemed quite surprised to find him sitting there.

 

Shui Que noticed he held a quill pen between his fingers and stared at him for a while.

 

Perhaps it was due to the role’s data, but Shui Que felt irritated.

 

[Mood -1 due to stepbrother Dorian interrupting reading time]


[Current Mood: 3/10]

 

He suddenly remembered that he was supposed to sabotage the male lead’s game experience. That meant lowering others’ favorability toward him, thereby reducing prestige.

 

In truth, Shui Que didn’t even need to think too hard about it. He only had to behave according to the character’s original personality data.

 

Dorian stood at the other end of the bookshelf, his back to the wall sconce. His tall frame cast a long shadow that engulfed Shui Que, leaving only his snowy-white face bathed in candlelight, gazing up quietly to meet Dorian’s eyes.

 

Suddenly, he softly called out, “Brother.”

 

Shui Que already knew his name—Count Louis had mentioned it before.

 

“Brother Dorian,” he said.

 

His voice was as delicate as a pampered house cat.

 

He asked, “Can you lift me up to reach the books on the top shelf?”

 

Dorian silently stared at Shui Que, as if in thought.

 

“What book are you looking for?” he asked. “What’s the title?”

 

“I can help you take it down.”

 

Dorian’s voice was calm and flat, just like Garrick’s.

 

Shui Que shook his head, insisting, “I forgot. Brother Dorian, if you carry me up, I’ll remember when I see the cover.”

 

It was a reasonable excuse.

 

Or maybe he was just browsing for something that interested him.

 

Dorian judged silently.

 

He stepped forward, bent down, and slipped an arm around Shui Que’s waist.

 

The nightgown was made of fine Eastern silk—extremely valuable in the Kingdom of Tuva. Even nobles usually wore leather and fur from their own territories. This showed that, as the count’s only son, the boy had been doted on.

 

Dorian had never held a younger brother before.

 

He and his twin, Garrick, had been at odds since babyhood—brawling over toys before they could even speak.

 

This was his first time embracing a “little brother.”

 

Fragile, unable to move on his own.

 

In need of adult protection.

 

Dorian wondered if the boy had added violet, lilyvine, or some other scented herbs during his bath—or perhaps applied powder?

 

He smelled sweet.

 

The little brother was like a fresh bouquet wreathed in steam.

 

Soft and harmless, which gave Dorian a strange sense of peace.

 

“Higher, a little higher,” Shui Que urged him.

 

Eventually, he was practically sitting on Dorian’s shoulder.

 

Though still a youth, Dorian’s shoulder frame and well-developed arm muscles already hinted at adulthood.

 

But with Shui Que perched like that, Dorian had to be extra careful to keep him from falling.

 

Shui Que found the Holy Book and held it to his chest. His eyes gleamed slyly, and as Dorian made a move—perhaps about to set him down—he quickly swept his arm across, knocking down all the books on that shelf.

Then, with his full 10 points of Strength, he gave the shelf a hard push.

 

Dorian had instinctively reached out to catch the falling books, and in that moment of distraction, Shui Que tipped to the side. Dorian had to shift again to catch him.

 

The two of them and the shelf all crashed down together in opposite directions.

 

In that split-second, Dorian had only enough time to shield the back of Shui Que’s head with his hand.

 

Fortunately, the spot where Shui Que fell was cushioned.

 

And Dorian’s hand ended up wedged perfectly between Shui Que’s head and the rug.

 

It didn’t hurt.

 

Shui Que lay on his back, blinking.

 

The crash of the bookshelf was so loud that the manservant John rushed in from the doorway, shouting in alarm, “Young master! Blessing of the Holy Spirit! Are you alright?”

 

In his panic, he only addressed Shui Que as “young master,” completely forgetting about the other two new count’s sons now living in the castle.

 

Heavy footsteps followed as Count Louis entered. His voice boomed like thunder, furious as he said, “Children, can someone explain to me what happened in the castle library?”

 

Luckily, only one pinewood shelf had fallen.

 

It had six tiers—slightly taller than an average adult.

 

The parchment books lay scattered in a complete mess.

 

Dorian quickly got up, checking whether he had landed on Shui Que. John rushed over too, crouching to help lift Shui Que up.

 

A soft, weak sound of crying.

 

Tears soaked through the silk nightgown.

 

“S-sorry…” the little lord hung his head, rubbing his face randomly with both hands, his shoulders trembling. “Father, it was my fault. Please don’t… don’t blame Brother Dorian…”

 

“Brother said he had to lift me up to find the book. It must’ve been because I’m too heavy—that’s why he fell.”

 

Shui Que looked up, eyes red from rubbing.

 

Dorian silently stared at him.

 

Yet Shui Que never even glanced back at him. He only mumbled to Count Louis in a muffled voice, “Brother Dorian didn’t mean it.”

 

His naturally rounded eyes made Shui Que look especially innocent, utterly non-threatening.

 

Count Louis picked him up, gently setting him in a nearby armchair, carefully dusting off the soot from his nightgown.

 

He had raised this only son with his own hands—of course he was biased.

 

But considering these two children were brought by his political marriage…

 

He finally said coldly, “Dorian, it seems your strength needs more training.”

 

“You’ll accompany me to the hunting grounds tomorrow.”

 

The servants filed in, tidying the books and lifting the shelf.

 

Count Louis looked Shui Que in the eye, wiped away his tears with a handkerchief, and said gently, “Que, it’s time for bed.”

 

Shui Que shook his head. “No, Father, I want to stay in the library a little longer.”

 

Count Louis didn’t insist.

 

Once the count left, and the servants had cleaned everything up and exited, Shui Que, still sitting in the armchair, crooked his finger at Dorian, who had never once defended himself.

 

Dorian approached, puzzled. “Why did you lie?”

 

Even deliberately knocking down the shelf.

 

Just to get Count Louis to blame him.

 

The little brother’s eyes were still red, and the scent from earlier—when he’d pleaded to be lifted—was still the same. It brought Dorian a strange sense of calm.

 

But then Shui Que curved his bright red lips into a slow smile, and patted Dorian’s cheek.

 

So close.

 

“I hate you,” the little brother said. His delicate brows furrowed as he added with disdain, “I hate all of you.”

 

Dorian froze.

 

[Mood +1 for bullying stepbrother Dorian]

 

Shui Que’s heart pounded wildly. Though his expression was fierce, the back of his nightgown was completely soaked in sweat.

 

His character was meant to be a twisted and gloomy young lord.

 

Born unable to walk, he was withdrawn and melancholic. Spoiled excessively by his father early on, his moods were erratic. Until recently, the one most tormented by him had been his personal servant, Leon.

 

In short, he wasn’t supposed to be likeable!

 

As long as he maintained the original personality, no matter how the male lead developed, NPCs would never raise their affection for him!

 

Shui Que had just slapped Dorian’s face and was about to pull his hand back, but suddenly thought better of it and wiped his fingers on Dorian’s pristine linen shirt.

 

He kept his expression stern and hissed, “Scared?”

 

Dorian looked down at him.

 

Garrick had said their little brother was a demon.

 

The game notified Guan He—

 

[Congratulations! You’ve unlocked the morality alignment of your character. Current alignment: Good – 4, Evil – 6. You can now view this in your character info.]


[Baby… you’re an evil little tabby kitten…]

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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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