Ji Chenxi clearly heard the other man’s breathing grow just a bit heavier.
That tiny slip in Chi Zhuo’s composure gave him a deeper kind of pleasure.
He had seen fireworks countless times before. Whenever the palace held some grand event or a major celebration, fireworks were always part of it. But this was the first time they had ever bloomed just for him alone—brilliant and stunning, loud and fierce, dazzling enough to vanish in the blink of an eye. Even so, people could never stop their hearts from racing over things like this.
“You…”
“Hm?” Ji Chenxi’s tone was light, with a playful lift at the end.
“You agreed… just like that?”
Chi Zhuo’s voice was low, thick with obvious uncertainty.
Ji Chenxi was starting to wonder if he’d teased him a little too hard before, which was why Chi Zhuo was reacting like this now.
“In Brother Chi Zhuo’s eyes,” Ji Chenxi said with a smile, “do I really look like someone who likes to toy with other people’s feelings?”
He sounded amused when he asked, but Chi Zhuo knew better. This wasn’t the kind of question you could answer carelessly.
For the first time in his life, the man who controlled the entire Chi family and had nearly all the underground forces in his grasp didn’t know what to say. “No… I just…”
“Just what?”
“I just thought Your Highness wasn’t someone who could be won over so easily.”
Ji Chenxi felt that familiar surge of delight again. “The fireworks were beautiful. I liked them. So I agreed.”
The answer was casual—too casual. The joy that had been quietly spreading in Chi Zhuo’s chest suddenly froze in place. “Just because of the fireworks?”
The Ferris wheel was already descending. From up here, he could see countless people sitting in their own cabins, all looking up at the gorgeous bursts in the sky. One rose after another bloomed open, like ever-changing nebulae, like a silent vow written across the night.
Fireworks mean nothing more than beauty when they have no meaning attached. But once they’re given one, that’s when they truly become something that can make a heart falter.
“Fireworks are beautiful,” Ji Chenxi said again, making his point clear. Then his tone shifted. “But that’s just what caught my eye. If tonight’s fireworks had been set off by someone I didn’t like, even if they lit up the entire Imperial Star, I wouldn’t feel a thing. I agreed because you’re different, of course. Brother Chi Zhuo.”
On the other end, his breathing grew heavy once more, followed by a deep, low laugh.
“Your Highness, I suddenly really want to kiss you.” The man’s voice was hoarse and low, openly and plainly laying bare his desire.
Ji Chenxi’s eyes curved with a smile, as if the gentle breeze and bright moon had melted into them, making them shine. “What should we do? I’m not by your side right now.”
“If Your Highness were by my side,” Chi Zhuo asked softly, “would I be able to kiss you then?”
“Probably not,” Ji Chenxi said with a sigh. “Major General Wu Xiang is glued to my side, doing his job far too well. If I kissed you today, I’d wake up tomorrow with a perfectly proper fiancee.”
“A fiancee?” Chi Zhuo pressed his lips together, his dark eyes steady and cold. “I hope Your Highness never has such a thing.”
“Then what about a fiance?”
“Even if there is one,” he said calmly, “it can only be me.”
Ji Chenxi shook his head and sighed. “Brother Chi Zhuo, you’re way too domineering. That won’t do.”
Firelight rippled across the night as the shy moon slipped out from behind the clouds, answering the fireworks in silence.
Chi Zhuo let out a quiet chuckle. “Here it comes. Look.”
Clusters of blue fireworks shot into the sky, blooming into blue roses one after another. Before the deep blue could fully fade, black light burst forth, weaving together into the shape of a small black snake. With subtle shifts and changes, it finally formed the scene of a snake playing among roses.
“This was supposed to be done with aircraft carrying different colored lights,” Chi Zhuo explained. “But half a day was too rushed, and the result wouldn’t have been good enough. Luckily, I had a plan B.”
“So this hurried confession of yours is full of flaws everywhere,” Ji Chenxi teased.
“Not satisfied?”
“Not really. Life is full of imperfections anyway. Too much perfection isn’t a good thing either. Like this confession you planned in half a day—I find it pretty unforgettable.”
“I didn’t want to rush it like this,” Chi Zhuo said quietly. “But today is special. It’s a day I’ve always hated. I wanted to wash that bad feeling away with something happy.”
“So—” Ji Chenxi dragged out the word, smiling, “I agreed without hesitation.”
“Does Your Highness know fortune-telling?”
“Or maybe,” Ji Chenxi said lightly, “we’re just on the same wavelength.”
Chi Zhuo paused at the playful tone. “Your Highness, I can feel how happy you are.”
“Happy? Some things are better left understood and not said out loud,” Ji Chenxi replied lazily. “Brother Chi Zhuo, you’re making it sound like I was really looking forward to this. Honestly, I’m just so-so about it. I mainly went along with you.”
“Then thank you, Your Highness, for being so generous.”
Ji Chenxi laughed. “No need to thank me. Respecting elders and caring for the young is a fine virtue.”
The two of them chatted back and forth like this. None of it really meant anything, and in the past Ji Chenxi would’ve coldly labeled it a waste of time. But with their relationship changed, even this kind of idle talk felt oddly fun.
As the Ferris wheel was about to reach the bottom, Ji Chenxi said, “My ride’s over now. So, Brother Chi Zhuo, see you around~”
“See you, little rose.”
After getting off the Ferris wheel, Ji Chenxi was clearly in a much better mood. Su Yu even teased him a few times.
“Anyone who didn’t know better would think that confession just now was meant for you. Why are you so cheerful?”
“Because of the roses!” Ji Chenxi said brightly. “I like roses, and there were so many roses in those fireworks. I wasn’t the one being confessed to, but I was still happy just because those roses were there.”
With such a simple answer, Su Yu didn’t think too much of it. The only thing that made him hesitate was that firework image of a snake sniffing roses. Just that image alone—wasn’t it clearly Chi Zhuo confessing?
But looking at Ji Chenxi’s expression, it really didn’t seem like it. Besides, who confesses when the two people aren’t even in the same place?
After that, the group played a few more rides as the night grew deeper. Then Su Yu suggested going to the haunted house.
At first, none of the four of them had any interest in haunted houses, so they skipped it. But now that they’d almost finished all the other attractions, going at this hour actually sounded pretty good.
Ji Chenxi bought himself an ice cream and bit off Snowball Bunny’s little ear in one mouthful. Hearing the suggestion, he laughed and asked, “Why the sudden urge to go to a haunted house?”
“I heard some passersby talking about it,” Su Yu said excitedly. “They said tonight’s haunted house is super intense. I’ve heard three different groups say the same thing. It’s gotta be fun. Come on, let’s go.”
Ji Chenxi was in a good mood, so he was up for anything and went along with them. Gu Hechuan never objected to whatever they wanted to do, so he followed naturally. As for Lu Tu, he scoffed at the so-called ‘must-try’ haunted house the tourists kept praising—but still tagged along with the group anyway.
They bought their tickets and stepped into the haunted house, swallowed up by near-total darkness lit only by eerie, flickering mood lights.
The place was pretty big—three floors above ground and three more underground. At first, Ji Chenxi stayed with Su Yu and the others, but before long he noticed something odd: the actors playing ghosts kept trying to lure him away from the group.
Ji Chenxi raised a brow, assuming this was some hidden in-game Easter egg, and decided to play along.
The “ghost” guiding them—supposedly leading them to find some kind of potion—was being blatantly obvious, pointing the way the whole time. Ji Chenxi went with the flow, waiting for a chance to corner the guy instead. Since it was just a game, he wasn’t taking it too seriously.
While tracking him, Ji Chenxi sensed another presence nearby.
An accomplice?
He kept walking at an unhurried pace.
As he turned a corner, the ambushing “ghost” lunged at him. Ji Chenxi had already lifted his hand, ready to knock the guy out in one clean chop—but his movement paused mid-air as the “ghost” slammed him against the wall. Ji Chenxi’s lips curved into a slight smile, unbothered.
“Hmm? Something wrong?” he asked, his tone light and teasing.
“You’ve been caught.”
“Oh~ so there’s that kind of scene too, huh? You guys really go all out for this haunted house. So, how does this brother plan to let me go?”
“Caught visitors are usually teased by the ghosts—like, for example, with a kiss.” Chi Zhuo’s lips curved slightly, his voice carrying an unusual softness that didn’t often show.
“Is that so? But I already have a boyfriend, so you can’t just kiss me. If you insist, I’ll scream for help.”
Chi Zhuo raised an eyebrow. “Go ahead. Scream your head off—no one’s coming to save you.”
Ji Chenxi’s smile widened, more playful than before. His lips held a teasing curve, his face pretending to protest. “That’s not right. My boyfriend would get angry if he knew.”
“Then let him get angry,” Chi Zhuo murmured, his voice rough and low. Without warning, he pressed a lingering, tender kiss onto the lips he had long wanted to touch, adding teasingly, “You’re no longer ‘pure’ now. Might as well stay with me.”
A muffled laugh escaped Ji Chenxi as he pulled Chi Zhuo’s collar closer and playfully bit his lips. “You really go all out,” he murmured with feigned anger. “A little innocent like me can’t handle this.”
Hello, everyone ヾ(＾∇＾). I hope you enjoyed the story! If you’re feeling generous, please buy me a coffee, share/comment on my translated works! Check out the link below for early chapters. (๑>ᴗ<๑)
