CH 75.2

That familiar VIP patient’s ward. That familiar setup. That familiar group of characters, though there are still several differences.

He Jünle is once again lying in bed with a pale face. Murong Jihua is sitting on a little fold-up bench with an equally pale face by his side.

The competition is over already.

It is He Jünle’s complete victory.

However——

Murong Jihua sighs, and extends his hand to disperse the wall plaster powder on his face a bit more evenly, saying,

“Her Highness Elizabeth will come. It is time to finally come clean to her.”

To give the most perfect conclusion possible to this farce!

Princess Elizabeth has come, of course.

Her face is again, equally pale to He Jünle, with the plaster on his face. Pain is written all over Her Highness’ face——In fact, she is dressed in an all-black gown of mourning with a black veil over her face. There is a lone strand of white in the form of a rose pinned to her chest.

Behind her is Prince Blai’nd, with a whole bouquet of chrysanthemum or two in his hands (TL: Chrysanthemum is a flower of mourning in China).

Murong Jihua “…”

‘This sure doesn’t bode fortune.’

However, he is well aware that the Princess merely has rather… unique understanding of the human realm, so she naturally isn’t dressed so solemnly thusly for He Jünle’s sake, but for another obvious goal –

To give her utmost condolences to the (nonexistent) child of Murong Jihua and He Jünle that once was.

Murong Jihua is examining her expression while prodding his own head up,

That sadness on her is genuine.

Of course, that was the product of perfect genetics she has been desperately pursuing with all her efforts.

In some sense, this Princess is really…

A bit, pitiful.

Her Highness Elizabeth seems to want to look at He Jünle and check his condition, but, hesitant, she still stops her steps two metres away from the patient’s bed. She looks like she’s about to break down into tears, murmuring,

“I’m sorry, Murong-gege… If I didn’t insist on the competition, it wouldn’t…”

Her tears actually start flowing.

Murong Jihua isn’t sure of what to say.

‘Don’t worry, we can still make another one’——Wow, which couple would produce such a mindlessly inconsiderate sentence; once isn’t enough for you yet…?

‘Oh yeah sure let’s see each other never again’——Never mind that, she is Country A, after all;

Still, in the end, it is his lying to this girl that everything happened in the first place,

All his numerous thoughts are a mess. Nothing makes sense, and Murong Jihua’s sigh is twisting around on the tip of his tongue, but he’s still unable to speak up.

Thankfully, his lover on the bed is able to save the day, saying,

“It’s alright, Your Highness. I was also to blame for this.”

He Jünle opens his ‘blood red, bulging’ eyes, showing a ‘tired,’ ‘bitter smile,’ gesturing towards Princess Elizabeth——

The same way an ailing mother calls out for her daughter for her last words before she draws her last——

Murong Jihua slaps his chins to stop his wildly digressing thoughts.

“Jihua really is an excellent person. Handsome, wealthy, and humorous too at that. He’s such a wholesome pile of gentleness——It was a certainty he is extremely attractive and likeable to everyone,” ‘gasps’ He Jünle, “the child’s vitals were not exactly strong either when we first had him. It is my own hubris, recklessness that I did not monitor my diet exactly. It must have caused the child’s health to deteriorate,

Certainly, the main cause of this miscarriage was the competition with you, but if it were not also for my consent, this result was not to have been, was it not?”

He Jünle raises his hand to brush a tear away from the corner of Princess Elizabeth’s eye, reassuring her,

“It is such a silver lining that… We are still young,”

“I forgive you,”

He Jünle raises his head, as a trail of tears——extremely naturally——fall down onto the pillow.

A gentle, but unmistakably firm voice continues,

“I will have to ask you to compensate us too, however; I wish that you would not intervene between my and Jihua’s relationship.”

“Ah…”

Princess Elizabeth opens her mouth, but such a He Jünle, means guilt and sadness has overwhelmed her capacity for speech.

That is when Prince Blai’nd, who has been standing valiantly by her side the whole time, interjects,

“Kuhum——Um, Zaza (TL: A nickname for you-know-who), listen to I. You see, that——While I do not understand the intricacies of your Oriental culture, but I am also aware that, science is a study born of practise, and it has been proven, that genetic predisposition as inherited from parents——does not alone decide the potential of genes, right? You know… what was that thing again?”

Murong Jihua adds, “… genetic mutation.”

“Ah, yes, yes, genetic mutation.”

Prince Blai’nd is saying with a smile, baring his golden teeth in all their glory, “that is why——It is not necessarily the case that the two most excellent specimens together can produce the most excellent by design. Instead, we should allow any two excellent people, to work hard producing offsprings! When the Law of Large Numbers comes into play, the probability for producing the most excellent offspring is much greater, no?”

Murong Jihua goes, “you…”

Are truly shameless.

He Jünle goes, “you…”

Are truly shameless.

Princess Elizabeth goes, “you…”

Prince Blai’nd, with his chrysanthemum bouquets in hand, has knelt down with one knee, and faces Princess Elizabeth with such a loving, romantic gaze, speaking,

Murong Jihua “…”

He isn’t even sure where to begin dissing.

He Jünle “…”

He isn’t interested in paying more into the High IQ tax of this world anymore.

Princess Elizabeth, after going blank for a moment, for one, two, three four five six seven eight minutes or so, she has finally managed to extract something that interests her from the sentence——The probability of production of the perfect genetic specimen.

Her consciousness has returned,

As she shows her usual, terrifyingly artistic smile, replying,

“Of course!”

The Prince Blai’nd of present, surely would not know how much he shall be regretting this his entire life in the future.

——Is the thought occupying both Murong Jihua and He Jünle’s mind right now.

“That said,” after sending off the newly formed international/interracial couple, He Jünle tilts his head to give such a meaningful, smiling look to Murong Jihua, asking, “the future – whosoever can tell if happiness or sadness shall await, no?”

“Huh?”

Murong Jihua, who is rubbing his shoulders in relief next to the bed, doesn’t get it.

He Jünle leans over, to give Murong Jihua a kiss, that has a hint of soft drinks, proposing,

“Let’s get married.”