CH 71.1

Don’t ask me what the lycoris radiata He Jünle and Princess Elizabeth ended up agreeing on after half a day of negotiations.

This shaoye has already been very disgracefully ‘excused’ from the patient’s ward for a while now.

Central Hospital, as expected of the aristocrat to the peasants’ hospital;

VIP Patient’s Ward, as expected of the aristocrat among the aristocrats’ rooms;

The insulation is absolutely sublime.

I can’t hear a thing inside.

Fortunately, he isn’t lonely at the door either. When he’s bored he can just check his mobile phone and see how many hundreds of millions were added to his account yesterday, or count the number of zeroes on his bank card──Etc. All joys of life;

Hmm, that uninhabited island bought for He Jünle should get some infrastructure now. After birthing the child the kid and the adult should both be somewhere refreshing and relaxing to adjust. Yes, it’s of utmost importance… Mm?

W-, wait?

Murong Jihua hears a ‘thump’ as his phone falls right down from his hand, and the diamond-encrusted bling of a phone case happens to intimately interact with the floor.

… He almost took He Jünle as actually being pregnant.

Why is it always him who has over-immersed in his role? He should sob to lament.

──All He Jünle’s amazing acting skill’s fault.

Thankfully, he’s not alone here either. Blai’nd──The African Prince with rather enigmatic thought processes and eyes that are more decorative than functional, is also chased out.

His snowy white Lolita female dress is a stark contrast against his skin in colour. It is especially jarring considering the white, immaculate hospital corridor.

Murong Jihua is not curious at all why the Prince is dressed like so.

Someone who dares flying into Country A to court the demonic Princess probably has some fucking remarkable qualities about them.

Murong Jihua does not want to be near those qualities if he had a twelve-foot pole to poke at them.

There is only embarrassment spreading between the two men.

Blai’nd is pacing about and about, narrowing his eyes and feeling with his hands, until finally, he has ascertained Murong Jihua’s whereabouts under the latter’s gaze of despise.

Standing less than two centimetres away from Murong Jihua, the man reveals his mouth full of shiny, golden teeth. He greets,

“Beauty?”

“…”

Murong Jihua would rather ignore him. He takes half a step back.

However, our passionate African bro would not back off easily, of course.

Blai’nd asks with a smile, “buenos días, ¿que tal?”

Murong Jihua replies, “… bien. Gracias.”

Blai’nd replies with a stutter, “tam-tam-tambien estoy bien.”

Murong Jihua goes, “oh, felicidades.”

Naïve!

Besides Jünle and Xiaomo, anyone else who wants to try to embarrass him can go back to their mother’s womb to train for another 300 years first!

When Princess Elizabeth comes out, her face is glowing, her countenance is full of charm, and she is full of a lighthearted glee;

Murong Jihua’s chest clenches.

He Jünle couldn’t have gone dumb and gentlemanly pushed the initiative back to the Princess?

He didn’t, probably, fortunately.

Murong Jihua enters the patient’s ward and locks the door. He can see He Jünle lying in his bed looking all at ease, perhaps having a light nap.

But Murong Jihua knows he isn’t, because nobody’s eyelashes can still be fluttering that energetically, handsomely and outrageously domineeringly when they are asleep──

Why yes, my rose-tinted glasses are fitting very well, thank you for asking.

Murong Jihua opens his mouth to ask, “He Jünle, what do you say are the prospects this time?”

He Jünle chuckles with a magnetic tone, replying, “don’t say anything if you have nothing good to say.”

Murong Jihua chuckles in response, saying, “Jünle, sweetheart──Invincible, baby, outrageous teen──Do cut the Princess some slack.”

He Jünle nods, remarking, “that’s more like it.”

Eugh…

──Not from being disgusted, but from being overwhelmed with sweetness.

There is nobody else around, so He Jünle leaps up from the bed and stretches his body by its side. He says, “──It’s seriously tiring, but we’ve finally sent the Goddess of Death away. Let’s discharge, Murong. We have some busy times ahead.”

Murong Jihua almost reflexively bounces up and leaps over to He Jünle’s side to help support his slender, powerful body.

Their height being about equal, now Murong Jihua is looking much shorter when he is leaning over to help.

He Jünle “…?”

The man in question himself doesn’t notice anything wrong, apparently, and nudges closer and closer until their waists were touching. He says,

“He Jünle, I know, as expected of you, but, I won’t back off today. Tell me what you discussed, or no one will be leaving this room, ever.”

He Jünle raises his brow to say, “you’ve become quite full of yourself, huh.”

Murong Jihua makes a wronged whimper, saying, “I’ve at least been the man of so many young Country A girls’ dreams. Why do you keep seeing me as the dum-dum little boy instead?

I also want to be able to stand by your side and fight.”

He Jünle’s usual taunt is already by his lips when he seems to think of something and decides against saying it out loud. The tip of his tongue churns about in his mouth as he examines Murong Jihua from top to bottom a few times, and finally, it says,

“The competition this time…”

He then utters a single word,

“Charm.”