Delicate, Yet Shamelessly Freeloading [Quick Transmigration] Chapter 95

Chapter 95: The Child from the Pay-to-Win Parenting Game (12)

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Ared still needed to escort Shui Que safely back to the castle in Dockshire.

 

After all, when they had left, the little lord’s personal valet had watched Ared like a hawk, afraid the pampered young master might get into any trouble at the Holy Court Knights.

 

Today was a clear day, not a cloud in the sky. The carriage moved slowly along the city streets.

 

Sunlight outlined the rooftops with a golden trim.

 

Shui Que lifted a bit of the curtain, letting wind and sunlight drift in. Ared turned his head away, his eyes landing in the corner of the carriage, as if he were trying to bore a hole into the wall.

 

He didn’t dare look at Shui Que, who sat directly across from him.

 

Their knees—

 

…had bumped.

 

The tight space between them, combined with the jolting carriage, caused their knees to brush and press against each other.

 

A breeze drifted through the window, carrying a crisp chill, but Ared broke into a sweat for no apparent reason.

 

In the semi-enclosed space, the scent on Shui Que’s body easily spread and lingered.

 

“Ared?” Shui Que, after glancing out at the street view for a bit, turned his head to ask Ared something—only to notice that he didn’t look so good. “Are you hot?”

 

Out of concern, he reached up to lift the curtain higher, intending to tie it up. Golden sunlight spilled over him, his skin glowing pale to the point of dazzling. Passersby on the street kept casting glances his way.

 

Ared frowned and quickly put the curtain back down. “No, I’m not hot. I’m fine.”

 

Was he really?

 

Shui Que looked at him suspiciously, scanning him up and down.

 

Ared unconsciously straightened his back further, placing his hands as naturally as possible on his knees. “You wanted to ask me something earlier?”

 

“I wanted to ask,” Shui Que said as he recalled, “Where did you have your armor made?”

 

He added hopefully, “Soothing Knight also need well-fitted armor, right?”

 

Technically speaking, for a Soothing Knight’s role, impenetrable armor might not be strictly necessary.

 

The best outfit might very well be the soft garments Shui Que was wearing now—harmless and gentle in appearance.

 

Still, Ared answered honestly, “At the blacksmith’s on the east side of the city, little sir. That shop is run by the Helm-Schmidt family.”

 

In Tuvan, “Helm-Schmidt” literally meant “helmet maker.”

 

The finest armor in Castro City was worn by the Holy Court Knights. The insignia etched into the back of their helmets belonged to the Helm-Schmidt family, armor smiths for generations.

 

“Oh, it’s Captain Ared!”

 

An apprentice from the blacksmith shop saw the carriage stop at the door and came out to greet them. “And this is…?”

 

He looked in surprise at the cavalry captain standing at the carriage’s edge, while another person used Ared’s hand for support as he stepped down.

 

Ared asked, “Are you okay?”

 

He was asking if Shui Que could still walk. For someone still in rehabilitation, today’s outing might’ve been too much.

 

Shui Que pressed his lips together and said, “I’m okay.”

 

Only then did Ared turn to the apprentice and briefly introduce Shui Que.

 

The apprentice stammered, “Is—Is this the young master from the Louis family? I’ll go get the master! Is it for a custom ironleaf armor?”

 

The current generation of the Helm-Schmidt family was an old man with graying hair and a cranky temper. He shuffled out, gave Shui Que a glance, and muttered to himself, “Not really suitable… oh well. Andy, let him try on the smallest sample armor first.”

 

The delicate-looking young master, who looked like he couldn’t lift anything heavier than a feather, might just get crushed under the weight of ironleaf armor.

 

Andy led Shui Que inside and pointed him toward the smallest set displayed on the iron mannequin. It was freshly forged, brand new.

 

When Andy came back out, he mumbled awkwardly to Ared, “The young master said… he wants you to go in and help. He doesn’t know how to put it on by himself…”

 

When Ared entered, Shui Que was sitting in a chair, hunched over, trying to put on the greaves.

 

His delicate brows were furrowed tightly, as if just getting dressed was already giving him a headache.

 

“Allow me.”

 

Ared knelt in front of him and took the piece of armor from Shui Que’s hand.

 

Greaves were used to protect the lower legs and ankles.

 

They were a bit too big.

 

Not just the greaves—even the knee guards and thigh guards looked slightly oversized.

 

Ared’s expression grew uneasy.

 

Clearly—this was already the smallest size available.

 

He stopped Shui Que, who was about to put on the chestplate. “No, you need to wear a padded gambeson under this first.”

 

“Hm? Oh…” Shui Que stood up, waiting in place as Ared fetched the gambeson from the mannequin.

 

Shui Que still wore a tight brocade vest. Putting on a padded layer over that would make him hot and uncomfortable. With that thought, he grabbed the edge of the vest and started pulling it upward to take it off.

 

His undershirt lifted along with it, first revealing a small patch of pale, creamy skin at his waist, then riding higher, the fabric bunching up.

 

Ared’s pupils contracted. He still held the gambeson in the crook of his arm and instinctively reached out to help press the shirt down.

 

But he missed, and his large hand landed directly on Shui Que’s flat stomach.

 

Probably because Shui Que had eaten a lot of dessert after lunch, there was a slight roundness there, gently rising and falling with each breath.

 

Ared’s mind short-circuited for a second.

 

Finally, the vest came off. Shui Que’s hair was a bit mussed from pulling it over his head. He turned and belatedly asked, “Are you warming my tummy? But I’m not cold, really.”

 

Ared quickly withdrew his hand and stammered, “Just now, the shirt hem…”

 

His tongue seemed tied. The more flustered he got, the harder it became to explain.

 

Shui Que gave him a few perfunctory “mmhm” sounds, as if to say, I know, I get it.

 

From the omniscient perspective, Guan He continued narrating, “As expected of our trusted brother—Ared’s actually pretty thoughtful.”

 

【…Streamer, maybe you should take some herbal medicine to calm your nerves.】


【I think your stream is out of sync with ours.】


【Baby tummy! Ared’s so lucky… I wanna touch the baby tummy too.】


【Captain, you better not be thinking about filling that tummy of Shui Shui’s with anything…】


【Enough! I’m inside the chat.】


【Hey, person up there, that’s outrageous. I’m warning you! You’re in my seat now //-//】

 

Because of his earlier inappropriate gesture, Arr

ed’s ears were burning. He carefully helped Shui Que into the padded gambeson. This time, he was extra cautious, not daring to touch any of Shui Que’s skin.

 

The gambeson was made from cotton and wool padding, stitched together with linen cloth.

 

Compared to what Shui Que usually wore, the fabric was much rougher.

 

Once the chestplate and other upper armor pieces were secured, Shui Que felt like he was about to be crushed under the weight.

 

The helmet connected with the neck guard. With a “click,” the faceplate dropped down, and his vision instantly dimmed.

 

Ared hurriedly said, “Sorry,” realizing he had made a mistake, and quickly lifted the faceplate.

 

As it flipped up, Shui Que’s pale eyes—like a pool of maple syrup—looked at him, blinking bright and clear.

 

“What do you think?” Shui Que moved slowly, turning in a circle, then looked up at him. “Senior?”

 

“…”

 

Ared was struck by that title.


It took him a good while to react before he finally said, “Very good.”


He was no poet—incapable of those extravagant, flowery compliments—so he simply repeated, “Very fitting.”

 

Shui Que turned his head toward the mirror. It was made of copper, not very clear, and could only vaguely reflect a human figure with indistinct facial features.


The reflection in the mirror made him look unmistakably like a little penguin.

 

“…”


He looked so clumsy.

 

Shui Que frowned deeply, convinced it was the armor’s fault.

 

System 77 popped up in time to remind him, “Although the host looks good wearing it, this one doesn’t fit. Besides, the store will definitely launch a more suitable armor later!”


The implication being: this was no time to miss a pay-to-win opportunity for the male lead.

 

Using the heavy and awkward Ironleaf Armor as an excuse, Shui Que decided not to customize it.

 

Andy stood at the shop entrance, watching their carriage drive away.

 

But by evening, Ared returned alone and bought the exact set of Ironleaf Armor that Shui Que had tried on earlier in the day.

 

Andy mumbled, “Wasn’t it ill-fitting…?”

 

The righteous Knight Captain said nothing.


He simply had a gut feeling—if Shui Que had tried it on, it wouldn’t feel right for anyone else to wear it after.

 

…………

 

Shui Que happily tucked the Knight Commander’s letter of recommendation into his nightstand drawer.


His original plan had been to wait for Dorian’s return and talk to him after dinner about the referral letter from the mayor of the town hall.

 

But Count Louis told him that Dorian wasn’t currently in the Castro Diocese. He had gone to a neighboring city to handle a dispute over the spice trade and wouldn’t be back for a few days.

 

Count Louis was even surprised that Shui Que had taken the initiative to seek out Dorian. He asked if his youngest son needed to send a message to Dorian via one of the castle’s carrier pigeons to bring him back sooner.

 

Shui Que shook his head.


It wasn’t especially urgent—he could try asking for someone else’s referral letter first.

 

This Thursday was the Festival of Foot Washing, and Sylvester had invited him to participate in the foot-washing ritual.

 

Shui Que thought perhaps he could use the opportunity to bring it up and ask the Holy Court’s priest for a letter of recommendation.


Though the priest always seemed to dislike him…

 

According to System 77, the man’s favorability toward him had always been zero.

 

The Festival of Foot Washing was considered a very important spring holiday in Tuva.


On this day, the local people could go to the church and wash their feet with holy water—one of the rare chances for commoners to come into contact with it outside of baptism.

 

Shui Que had never participated in city festivals before, due to mobility issues and the exhausting travel involved.


If he had known it would be like this…


He wouldn’t have come this time either.

 

Shui Que clenched the hem of his clothes, so embarrassed his toes nearly curled.


But he didn’t dare move a muscle.

 

A large hand with prominent veins supported the sole of his foot, while cool holy water scooped from the stream gently spilled over the top of it.

 

“Your Grace…” Shui Que sat and whispered nervously, “Are you done yet?”

 

Sylvester knelt on the stone slab, lifting his eyelids. In contrast to Shui Que’s tense reaction, his gray-blue eyes were calm and indifferent.

 

“Mm.”


His response was cold, his voice sharp as ice.

 

The hem of his barley-colored robe dipped into the holy water as he leaned forward.


Sylvester pressed a kiss to the snow-pale top of Shui Que’s foot. Outside the church dome, the white doves took flight at the sound of the bell, circled once, then returned to their perch.

 

According to the Holy Book, the Holy Spirit—on the eve of His Passion—had washed His disciples’ feet and kissed them. To commemorate this, the Holy Court held a foot-washing ritual every year on this Thursday.

 

No one had told Shui Que that this part was necessary too.

 

Heat blazed up his body like flames, and blushing furiously, Shui Que hastily put his socks and shoes back on.

 

The ceremony ended. Avoiding the bustling crowd still lining up for their turn with the holy water, Shui Que followed behind Sylvester and grumbled, “You should have told me beforehand—you really startled me just now.”

 

As Tuva’s youngest priest, this was Sylvester’s first time representing the Holy Court in conducting the foot-washing ritual, though he had already memorized every step.

 

“What difference would it make?” he asked.


Even if he had told Shui Que in advance, it would still be a necessary part of the ceremony. As the invited guest, all Shui Que needed to do was cooperate.

 

Sylvester’s expression remained indifferent, but when he caught a glimpse of Shui Que hanging his head, he finally said, “Next time, I’ll give you advance notice.”

 

“And also…” Shui Que seized the most important matter, “You have to remember to write me that letter of recommendation.”

 

Sylvester had been walking without pause, but he stopped when he heard that and looked back. “You must promise me you won’t hurt anyone.”

 

“I would never.” Shui Que protested, baring his small fangs at him—which now looked no different from ordinary canines. “See? How could I possibly hurt anyone? I can’t even bite through anything, seriously.”

 

He nodded sincerely. “Shouldn’t they be the ones promising not to hurt me instead? I’m just a weak, powerless little vampire—it’s clear I’m the one people want to eat up.”

 

Shui Que puffed out his cheeks.

 

【Yes… Vampire baby, I’m going to eat you right now!】


【Baby, you are such a weak little baby.】


【What’s this? A soft, watery cheek—I’ll nibble nibble nibble. What’s this? A soft, watery foot—I’ll munch munch munch!】


【Just now, the foot fetish energy exploded…】


【How is this man still maintaining zero favorability…?】


【Grabbing baby’s foot and not letting go, kissing on a whim—you believe his favorability is zero? Might as well believe I’m Qin Shihuang.】

Note: Qin Shihuang was the first emperor of China.

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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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