Chapter 7 — Crown Prince Competing With Ch?

I accept it. Pale yellow flowers crowded together, sweet fragrance. Different from memory, there is only scent. With shape and color, that sweetness becomes concrete and full. “This is cinnamon flower.” Lu Di's voice was gentle. She took another branch, with a few light purple flowers. “This is a wood grain.” I watch her pruning branches, her movements are leisurely and elegant. Her eyes stopped at the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes. It turns out, Lu Di looks like this. Just like in my imagination, but also a little different. I've seen it already. This world, before my eyes, suddenly became larger. 24 The day Han Triet returned, he was covered in road dust. He strode into the palace door, the hem of his shirt still covered with dirt and sand outside. I was sitting by the window when I heard a noise and raised my head. The sunlight shone brightly, covering his body. Little by little, I looked at him seriously. High eyebrows, straight nose bridge, tight chin line. Lips… well, they look perfect for kissing. It turns out, this is Han Triet. …So it looks like that. He took a few steps and stood in front of me, shadow falling. His eyes were hot, staring into my eyes. “You…” His throat moved, his voice was a bit hoarse, “did you really see it?” I nodded, didn't say anything, just continued to look at him intently. Look at his eyebrows, his eyes, his dry, slightly peeling lips. I want to bring each clear and vivid part into my heart. He seemed to be uncomfortable with my gaze, his eyes averted for a moment, then immediately returned. “What are you looking at?” Out of habit, he tried to threaten, but his voice no longer had any energy, and the end of the sentence still trembled a bit. I still looked at him, curled my eyes and smiled. “Look at that guy.” Those three words don't know where they touched him. Han Triet's eyes flashed red. He immediately turned away, waved his hand and rubbed his eyes hard with the back of his hand. Shoulders are shaking a bit. When he turned back, his eyes were wet and the tip of his nose was red. “Trac Tu…” He called me hoarsely, with a choking nasal voice. Then, he opened his arms, with a defiant look, and hugged me. The force was very strong, as if it wanted to blend me into his body. My chin hit my shoulder hard, causing a bit of pain. I was hugged until I was suffocating, but I clearly felt the trembling in his body. And all over his neck, hot and wet patches quickly spread out. He is crying. Cry because of me. The soft spot in my heart was poked, it was extremely painful. The edges of my eyes are also gradually heating up. I raised my hand and gently wrapped it around his back. Slowly pat. “Um,” I replied softly, “I see.” He cried even harder. Tears, snot, and nose must have flowed all over my shoulder. I'm thinking if I should remind him to save some face. Then he suddenly hiccuped and raised his head—— A sparkling blister, following his trembling breathing, bulged on the tip of his nose. “…” I stiffened. He also stiffened. Four eyes looked at each other. That blister "pops" and bursts. A little wet and cold, sticking to my newly changed dress. I lowered my head, looking at the faint wet spot on my shirt chest. She raised her head again, looking at him with red eyes and a bewildered expression. Can't stand it. “Phew.” Han Triet's face immediately turned red as blood. “Trac Tu!” He gritted his teeth, his ears were red enough to bleed, "Don't laugh!" I pursed my lips, but my shoulders kept shaking. He glared at me, about to reach out to help wipe it, but then he felt something was wrong. In the end, I could only stiffen my neck and pretend like nothing had happened. “What are you looking at?” He snapped, “I haven't seen it yet Who ever cries?!” I see. I've never seen the Crown Prince cry out his nose. Of course, we didn't say that. Just curled his eyes and smiled, engraving his adorable awkward appearance at that moment meticulously into my heart. 25 Since I recovered, Han Triet has become strange. The specific manifestation is - he wears more clothes. You know, before, he always slept shirtless. When we reach out in the night, we immediately touch hard, warm flesh, like a piece of iron that has just been heated. What about now? Huh. The shirt was worn tightly, the collar was unbuttoned, and the laces were tied in knots. Before, because I didn't see him, he just left it alone. Now that we can see, there's not a single piece of welfare left. At night when I lay down, I deliberately reached out and groped. As soon as his fingertips touched the fabric, he felt like he was pricked by a needle and immediately shrank back. “What are you doing?” His voice was tense, clearly heard in the darkness. I'm full of reason: "What about just touching it?" He was silent for a moment, then curled up tightly with the baby blanket. “…Go to sleep.” I refuse. Hands and feet joined the battle, crawled to his side, and without saying a word, pulled the strap of his inner shirt. Han Triet stiffened, quickly grabbed my hand, his voice was off-key: "Trac Tu! You, have you become a scoundrel now?!” “It's been enlightening lately.” I'm serious. Brushing his hand away, I said seriously: "Besides, we've been married for how long, so why don't we get married?" He swallowed his saliva, his eyes averted: "...No need to rush." “Spread it out so what will people think?” I leaned close to his ear and lowered my voice, "Say we don't get along, or say you... can't?" He stopped. Breathing is clearly more rapid. “…Don't provoke me.” His voice became hoarse, but his grip gradually loosened. I took the opportunity to open his collar and touch his warm skin with my fingertips. He quickly grabbed his collar again and struggled one last time: "...What about Phu Quy?" "Sleep in the next temple, I've arranged it, I'm probably sleeping soundly now." Han Triet looked at me, his eyes struggling. After a long time, as if he finally let go, he relaxed and lay down on the pillow. “…It's up to you.” Pretending to be reluctant to accept the fate, but could not hide the excitement of wanting to try. 26 Things got a bit chaotic after that. Between bouts of hazy consciousness, he squeezed my hand. The candlelight flickered on the curtain, entwining like ink, without any boundaries. I don't know how much time has passed, all the waves have subsided. A strand of sweat-damp hair rubbed against my cheek, itching a bit. I didn't have the strength anymore, my fingertips just lazily stroked his falling hair. Resting for a moment, he propped himself up and sat up a bit. His eyes were still glued to my face. I raised my slightly numb hand and gently touched his face. Fingers traced his eyebrow bone, slowly drawing along. Then came the eyes, the corners of the eyes were slightly upturned. Now the water is still shining, no longer as fierce as usual. Then comes the bridge of the nose, tall and straight like a mountain range. Finally, the lips — this time a little redder than usual. We look closely, as if we want to overlap the feeling from our fingertips and the clear image before our eyes. He let me caress him, his throat moved slightly. “Like.” I suddenly said. His eyes blinked slightly, locking me tightly, his hoarse voice still not gone: "...What do you like?" I curled my eyes and smiled, my fingertips gently pressing the corner of his lips. “Like you.” He paused. Immediately after that, a look like brilliant fireworks exploded in the bottom of his eyes. So bright it's blinding. Outside the window the moon is bright, in the curtains warm. End of main text