Chapter 60: The Stallion ML Meltdown (12) | How Do I Keep My Perfect, Mature “Top-Dog” Persona?
The ancestors left us a profound truth:
A nation cannot go a day without its ruler, a household cannot go a day without its head, and a bed cannot go a day without its little seductress.
It is absolutely true.
Ever since the wickedly charming Prime Minister left the bed and ran off, the burden of state fell squarely on Xing Ge’s shoulders. When she saw cart after cart of memorials being hauled to her tiny desk, her face turned several shades greener.
Just look at what they were reporting.
Minister A offered reserved flattery: “It is sunny today, well suited for an outing.”
Xing Ge: “?” Are you moonlighting as a weather anchor?
Minister B leveled up his flattery: “My son is one month old and already shows Your Majesty’s bearing!”
Xing Ge: “!!!” Your wife has nothing to do with me, thanks!
Minister C tossed his pants aside and went full throttle: “Upon waking, I felt deeply how heroic Your Majesty is.”
Xing Ge: “.” I cannot. Truly cannot.
Worst of all, she was committed to playing the role of a wise and virtuous monarch. Even when her mind wandered, the ministers would automatically imagine she was contemplating national strategy. For example, one day in the privy she realized she had no paper, so she turned and casually said, “I want…”
Attendants A, B, C, E, D roared with world-shaking vigor, “His Majesty has graced the Eastern Office! Prepare the imperial brush for red approvals! Present your memorials at once! Pass the order, the whole army will repeat!”
“Eastern Office! Imperial brush!”
That day, the royal latrine blazed with a soundtrack of patriotic fervor.
That day, the court bathed in the glorious radiance of imperial grace and resolved to imitate it, each determined to become the number one stan.
All the civil and military officials flushed with excitement, as if already seeing the nation’s bright future.
Xing Ge: “.”
From then on, even in the privy, a pair of terrifyingly dedicated hands would deliver brick-thick stacks of memorials without wasting a single moment.
Great. Now everyone knows I enjoy approving documents on the toilet.
Xing Ge wore a mask of suffering. She could hardly shout at them, “Insolent whelps, if I get hemorrhoids, will you take responsibility?!”
After a stretch of this, she visibly wilted.
Then, at last, an urgent report galloped back with news of the beautiful Prime Minister.
The good news: he hadn’t stormed off to his sect out of anger. On the way back, a comrade reported that he was having an affair with the Emperor of Yan, that is, with me, and had betrayed organizational secrets, so he’d been dragged to the headquarters for torture.
The bad news: Heavenly Net Gate is the top assassination organization across the Ten Continents and Three Islands. If she tried to face them head-on, there was a high chance she would die.
Xing Ge weighed it for a long time.
It was not that she lacked the spirit to die for a love so exquisite. It was that asking a rational, mature adult to choose between “hemorrhoids in one’s prime” and “martyrdom in one’s prime” was just too cruel.
With great resolve, she decided to maintain her brilliant persona as a wise and mighty ruler, delegated the household to trusted ministers, and launched the rescue of her hemor—
Ahem, the rescue of her beautiful wife.
Xing Ge’s infiltration went splendidly. First she used money to pry open the mouths of the outer guards, borrowed a dead man’s identity, and claimed distant kinship with the under-prison chief. Then she played to her strengths as a social bandit, displayed her all-around professional skills, and successfully snagged a position as the guy who delivers meals.
“That brat’s gone mad. He bites anyone he sees. Careful he doesn’t bite you,” the chief said with lingering fear. “The last food deliverer had his throat bitten clean through. Otherwise the job wouldn’t have fallen to you.”
Xing Ge: “…”
No need to emphasize it that much.
Yu Ge had been marked a top criminal. He refused to confess, so they transferred him from the regular cells to the Netherwater Prison.
She stepped in like one facing death. Wind howled. Dirty water rolled. On the far wall hung a sheet of glazed crimson “beauty skin,” so vivid it stabbed the eyes.
Xing Ge approached the cell door. She hadn’t even set down the food box when he, eyes closed, let the water lap around him, legs slightly parted as if welcoming her in.
“…?”
Without looking, Yu Ge spoke in a tired voice edged with mockery. “What is it? Too filthy? Afraid to come up? Then get out. Tell your master behind you that even if he ruins me, he still won’t pry open my mouth.”
Xing Ge: “!!!”
Who dared lay a finger on her beauty?!
Her heart hurt so badly she could not breathe. She nearly blasted the dungeon apart.
“…Hm?”
Sensing something off, Yu Ge slowly lifted his lids halfway.
He froze. The color drained from his lips.
Even if he wore a different face, he recognized him at first sight.
The atmosphere grew invisibly tense.
Xing Ge broke the stalemate with a dry voice. “You must be hungry. Eat a little?”
Yu Ge’s mouth moved. Then he gave a self-mocking smile and turned his face away, calm once more. “Do you want the front or the back? The back is used less. Tighter.”
Good grief.
What was this self-deprecating, dead-eyed heartbreak?
Xing Ge’s little heart twisted into a knot. It was all her fault. She had hesitated between choices for days, and in that time her beauty had been humiliated.
She was not good at soothing boys who had been wounded in body and spirit. After a moment’s thought, the only thing she could do was step into the water, kiss him clumsily, and murmur against his lips and teeth:
“Don’t… be… afraid… I… will… save… you…”
Yu Ge’s body shivered. When she turned to go, the light in his eyes dimmed again.
So he would save him.
But he did not want him, is that it?
In the end, he found his own body too tainted, too easy to bully.
Xing Ge had just waded back out to fetch the food box when she saw him wearing that tragic look of someone who wanted to die quickly and end it all.
“?”
What had happened in those few short moments that she didn’t know about?
Xing Ge felt a headache coming on. She lifted the lid, took out a bright red-and-green veggie dumpling, so ascetic it stung the eyes. Heavenly Net Gate’s meals were nothing special. At least she would toss a couple shreds of meat into a prisoner’s slop. She held it to his lips. “Eat first. Only when you’re full will you have the strength to…”
She had meant to say “run,” but changed it to, “Mm, have the strength to work.”
She gave him a blink.
You know.
Yu Ge was silent a moment, then bent that elegant neck and finished the entire red-and-green dumpling from her hand.
When she was done feeding him and ready to leave the cell to return at night, he caught her ear between his teeth, making her squirm from the tickle. Just then, a wisp of spirit brushed hers, wavering as if it might go out at any second.
No.
…If you leave like this, with nothing having happened, they will get suspicious.
His arms were twisted behind him. At each wrist, a soul-pin sat like a nail. One step forward tore at his spirit and sent cold sweat coursing down his brow. He pleaded, “Come closer. Press against me. Help me… do it.”
“Huh?”
He bit his lip. A finger is fine, too.
Xing Ge: “…………”
Xing Ge: “.”
The ancestors never taught me what to do when the “bottom” understands more than I do. How am I supposed to keep my perfect, mature top-dog persona like this?
Help. I am scared!!!
Author’s Note:
Prime Minister (bottom): Do you know how hard I acted, just to get a proper meal?!
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