Qinglian Chronicles

[Slight NSFW.

Remember to read on chichilations and not an aggregator~]

When the time came that the mood had leveled out, I could only lay in bed coated in a cold sweat. Pain! The pain is killing me!

Jinzi gets tense looking at my suffering appearance, he quickly sought out the jinchuang medicine from last time. I glanced at it; it’s a small Hetian jade bottle containing some faintly-rogue colored ointment, and smearing it on wounds leaves cool traces of comfort.

He first cleaned me a bit, then applied it to me as softly as he could, speaking while he did it. “My master gave this to me when he was alive. It doesn’t have a name, but it’s much better at internal healing than liniment ointments.”

I hmmm, unable to keep from starting to mentally thinking of what his unknown medicine is, whether the materials to make it are rare or not, and whether or not it would be possible to compress the costs and produce it in bulk and such, my mind wandering off into what marketing tactics to use. It wasn’t until Jinzi repeatedly called for me that I came back to my senses. “What did you say?”

He looks very helpless. “I need you to part your legs so I can see if there’s an injuries.

My face went hot. “No, you… you were being very careful…”

He got somewhat embarrassed, lowering his head and coughing.

I also lowered my head and saw the sheet full of bloodstains, but they weren’t mine. They were his.

I reached out to him and said softly, “Are you hurt? I can apply it for you.”

He jumped, then held back my hand that was going towards the medicine bottle. A suspicious layer of pink faintly rose up on his handsome, lightly olive face, a bit of a stutter happening when he spoke. “Don’t- don’t think of that!”

Settling himself, he barely resumed his cold and disdainful look. “What’s a small injury like this to us martial artists? There’s no need for any medicine.”

Seeing him like this, I couldn’t help but want to smile. I’m contrarily not feeling very bashful, thinking of teasing him some. “Jinziiiii…” I look at my body, lengthening my words with feigned charm. “Your blood as such is all over me. After the medicine dries in a bit, I want to take a bath. Will you help me with that?”

The suspicious red on his face deepens. He turns his head to not look at me, pretending to be aloof. “You shouldn’t bathe right now, but… if you can’t because of your injuries, I’ll help you wash up.”

I hold back my smile, and the pain, and say with a silky voice, “You’ve looked after me, and I’d like to return the favor, or I’ll feel like a burden for having you wipe me down.”

“You—” He looks me in the eyes. I look back at him with a grin. He’s angry and unable to do anything about me, sighing powerlessly.

“Come on now.” The tone I use is one for coaxing a child, and I place my hand on his thigh with intention. “A little wound won’t take long or be too much a bother to treat.”

Jinzi looked down, saw his own body’s reaction, and his face went thoroughly red. He threw himself on the bed and said, “Fine. Do what you like.” He proceeded to grab my hand that was stroking his bottom, whispering out a warning. “You can’t touch me or move around randomly.”

I’m unable to keep back a pffft. “Okay, okay. Relax, Jinzi, I won’t do that to you!”

He simply shut his eyes from feeling sheepish and mistreated, long lashes gently quivering.

This is my first time taking a close look at Jinzi’s naked back. It’s positively gorgeous: the curves of his waist and hips, his impeccable tanned skin, slightly narrow shoulders, slender and solid muscles… I didn’t dare to make a crass joke by touching him randomly, instead concentrating on parting his cheeks to apply the ointment, hand shaking a bit.

When my finger met him, he let out a barely audible groan, but I heard it like a thunderclap hitting my ears. My mouth is a little dry for a moment, my motions becoming even more ungraceful.

He didn’t open his eyes, but he reached behind himself and grabbed my still-medicating hand, his voice coming out rough and breath unsteady. “Don’t keep being gentle, alright? I won’t be able to stand it.”

I immediately redden as if I’ve been boiled. The image of him saying that, eyes shut, is really… hot. His thin lips are pressed firmly together, a strand of loose black hair stuck to their side.

So pretty.

I obediently stay my hand.

Jinzi flipped over and sat up, lightly panting, and moved outside my arm’s range. “Keep away from me for a bit. I don’t plan on touching you again until you heal enough.”

I maintain my distance as I’m told, my heart beating terribly, and I’ve no choice but to turn my head to keep from looking at him.

The room warms up.

Then Hong Feng pushed the door open with a food tray in her hands, a bowl of steaming hot congee on top of it.

My first reaction is to immediately pull over Jinzi’s cast-off robes to cover up his lower half, only to hit his hand that was going to pull up the sheets to cover my own body, both of us subconsciously startling.

I awkwardly faced Hong Feng, feeling quite sorry for her. She was Zhang Qinglian’s concubine, after all, and she loved him; this scene would hurt her heart.

However, she seemed like she didn’t even see it. She looked at me with wide eyes, her face paling in an instant. She placed the tray on the table, flew to my side, clasped my hand, and spoke with a sharp trill, “Who? Who’s hurt you like this again…”

A few drops of water hit the back of my hand.

Hearing her extremely resentful, despairing tone, her shoulders shaking, I’m greatly astonished. Hong Feng’s emotions usually never reach her face. The damage I have this time isn’t light, but it shouldn’t be enough to make Hong Feng scared and bristling like this.

I feel helpless as I watch her cry, looking towards Jinzi for help. He threw me a look that said ‘you should fix your own problems’ and turned his head away. I’m forced to pat her on the back a little clumsily. “It’s okay, I’m alright. It’s actually not as serious as you think… I’m fine…”

She just cries harder.

A woman who’s been suffering in silence for a long time is doubly difficult to deal with when she cries. If she’s the short-fused, pampered type, I could cold-shoulder her, ignore her, sneer, indifferently butter her up, and so on. In regards to the seldom-weeping Hong Feng, this cannot be brushed aside.

As a result, I coaxed her for a long time and until I was dry in the mouth. I almost wanted to pass out to get it over with, but that wouldn’t be appropriate. Jinzi spoke up in the end, “You should go. He’s injured, and this is keeping him from resting well.”

She gave a verbal response, wiping the tears from her eyes as she left. I thought that she was going to go cry alone now, and I couldn’t help but grumble about Jinzi’s harshness.

He brushed that off, getting up to get the bowl of . “Was Zhang Qinglian injured a lot before?” I ask.

“Every once in while the Emperor would hurt him. It was inevitable,” he said coldly.

I give an ‘oh’, and he fed me a spoonful of congee. I swallow it down, finding it sweet and fragrant – it really is true that things taste twice as good when you’re starving! – and quickly gesture for more. Jinzi’s face gradually morphs into a soft smile, and he conscientiously kept feeding me.

I also put Hong Feng to the back of my mind, my heart slowly overflowing with happiness.

The most blessed time in love is when you just confirm that he likes you and you like him. All the doubts have passed, all the exhaustion hasn’t caught up yet. When I suddenly think about what I’m doing, I then feel like a miracle is taking place. I actually like someone, and he likes me too! Even my brows and lips can’t contain my smile.

I’m now unable to contain myself, slightly drawing up the corners of my mouth. Jinzi finally couldn’t take it anymore, shouting at me, “Are you not worried that a stately man like you would get laughed at from always smiling like a fool?”

I take back my smile as I recall that I am undoubtedly a man in Jinzi’s eyes, and Jinzi likes men. I thus felt like I was just disguised as a man, an immoral bloke meant to confuse gay men, and wordless guilt arises in me.

If he knew that I was some kind of not-male, not-female freak, would he be disgusted?

My mood sinks lower.

But… forget it. Keeping this from him is fine. I’ll do so until I can’t put off that discussion anymore. Love isn’t to be tested, because it won’t be able to stand it. If you really love someone, then you mustn’t test them.

I’m reluctant to part with this tenderness, even if I have to use some deception to get more of it.

When he saw that I wasn’t opening my mouth anymore, he put down the spoon and whispered, “What? Does it still hurt a lot?”

He shouldn’t have said that. Those words gave me even more of a sense of my full-body ache and unbearable fatigue. I nod.

“Eat a bit more,” he says.

I shake my head.

He didn’t force me, and finished eating what I hadn’t. I thought about how he was looking for me all night and didn’t take care of himself by eating anything, and I feel a bit ashamed.

I’m still habitually self-centered.

The sky outside the window is already blank. Jinzi had me lie on my stomach to sleep, gently pulling the blanket over me. “Sleep well.”

I hum, then calmly pulled on his hand. “Will you sleep with me?”

He was conflicted, then agreed, making his way into the covers. Though he was afraid of bumping into my wounds and couldn’t hold me or be too close to me, the sheets were still warming up.

I’ve been especially greedy for people’s warmth since I was young. My parents were former exchange students, and were rare Westernized people of that era. They always slept in separate rooms when they were alive. I had my own room when I was two years old and had to fall asleep by myself in the darkness, and it became the first phobia I overcame in my childhood.

I developed a habit of independence when I got older, and it naturally got even more difficult to cling to people.

With Jinzi’s warmth, I feel content.

He and I don’t say anything for a long time. He suddenly opened his mouth, but his words failed him. My intuition immediately knew that he wanted to ask something, so I covered his mouth. “Don’t ask.” My voice is gentle but firm. “Don’t ask about my past.”

He shut his mouth tight.

I slightly open my mouth to suck in a quick breath as the faint illumination comes from behind me, my eyes gazing into his.

He suddenly extends both of his hands and carefully embraces me.

“It’s all over with,” he speaks into my hair, voice gentle and containing endless heartache and compassion. “I’ll protect you in the future.”

I feel a bit stupid from his over-emotional words and actions, suddenly realizing that I had a past I couldn’t bear to think about, maybe even a horribly bloody and death-filled experience, so I wouldn’t want to bring it up.

Whatever, let him think that. I kinda want to laugh, and feel at ease.

When I was finally about to fall asleep, he said, “I only want to ask one thing.”

I open my eyes.

“What’s your original name? I can’t always call you Zhang Qinglian, can I?”

I smile. “Qiaochu. I’m called Ji Qiaochu.”

My name is pretty gender-neutral.

“Qiaochu?” Jinzi’s also a bit sleepy. “Is that your courtesy name?”

“No, it’s my birth one.”

“Do you have a courtesy?”

I think about it, then say, “It’s Liaoliao.”

We finally learn the MC’s actual name… 58 chapters in! Wow! That’s a long time!!!!

季翘楚 (Ji Qiaochu), 寥寥 (Liaoliao). Qiaochu refers to someone of outstanding talent (it’s like naming your kid Einstein nowadays). Liaoliao refers to something being in scarcity, or describing loneliness and emptiness.

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