Chi Zhuo had already prepared himself for Ji Chenxi not replying. Lately, Ji Chenxi had been distant, hot and cold, giving off that unreadable vibe.
But in less than half a minute, a reply appeared under the message Chi Zhuo thought would go unanswered: [I think I’ll be a little happy.]
Happy?
Happy about what?
It felt so unreal.
Chi Zhuo’s lips curved into a faint, almost mocking smile, yet as he stared at the words, it was as if some invisible string had been lightly plucked inside him.
A crush born from appearances—shallow and easy to abandon—yet this sudden, fleeting curiosity showed no sign of fading, not even a little.
Sure enough, not long after that utterly unreal message, Ji Chenxi sent another:
[If I say this, will it make you a bit happier, Brother Chi Zhou?]
A simple sentence, yet it blurred the truth of the first one. But if the other person didn’t truly believe the first message, this follow-up became a kind of lubricant—like saying, “I said it to make you a little happier,” which, in a way, was a subtle way of showing care.
Chi Zhuo lifted the glass in his hand and took a sip.
[Your Highness really is something else.]
Ji Chenxi, who was treating his wounds with the chemicals on the hovering car, looked up briefly. He suspected the comment was teasing him—softened with a gentle word, but still a joke at heart.
In a conversation carried purely through text, it was hard to read someone’s emotions. Ji Chenxi was busy with his injuries and couldn’t respond immediately. He simply issued a command to his light-screen to send a message to Chi Zhuo.
The light-screen dialed automatically.
On the other end, a familiar voice came through, and Ji Chenxi spoke with a hint of a smile, “That last message… why does it feel like Brother Chi Zhou was mocking me?”
“How could Your Highness think that? Could it be that you think you’re not a good person? If that’s the case, Your Highness is being far too insecure.”
Ji Chenxi chuckled, “I think I’m a pretty good person. After all, Brother Chi Zhou came to question me, and I was very patient about it.”
“…It wasn’t questioning.”
“Then what was it if not questioning?”
There was a long silence from Chi Zhuo’s side. Flirting was easy enough to type, but much harder to say out loud.
“I… care about Your Highness’s love life.” After a long pause, Chi Zhuo finally forced the words out stiffly.
Ji Chenxi let out a soft laugh. “Alright, then let’s call it caring about my love life. Since that’s the case, I’ll respond directly—I have indeed been a little unclear with a pretty little girl after accepting the reward Brother Chi Zhou gave me.”
Chi Zhuo listened and suspected Ji Chenxi might be upset, sounding sarcastic. But the other’s tone was calm, not angry at all.
Silence rose between them again. This time, Ji Chenxi didn’t speak either. He was simply cleaning off the original medication from his wounds before starting the disinfection process.
After disinfecting, he applied fresh medicine. The sting of the liquid made him furrow his brow slightly. Then he wrapped the wounds with bandages to prevent infection. He thought he might as well go back to the treatment pod—if he wasn’t worried about those guys’ treatment, he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of redoing it.
Just as Ji Chenxi was about to speak, Chi Zhuo beat him to it: “I heard you were injured this time. Was it serious?”
“Not too bad, just a small wound.”
“Make sure to take care of yourself. Also… Your Highness, though it’s not really my place to say this, you should be aware yourself. You’re smart—you shouldn’t put yourself in such dangerous situations. If your life were at risk, perhaps you should seriously consider whether this path is worth continuing.”
Ji Chenxi’s eyes narrowed slightly. He wasn’t someone who liked others meddling in his private matters, yet surprisingly, he wasn’t angry. In fact, his voice carried a faint lightness as he said, “I understand.”
Chi Zhuo’s position really didn’t suit talking too much. The Chi family held too much power. If he said something carelessly, someone with ill intentions could easily twist it into seducing the royal family. History was full of puppet emperors controlled by powerful military clans.
“Should I come see Your Highness?” Chi Zhuo asked Ji Chenxi, his tone almost like a statement rather than a question.
The way he said it sounded so natural that Ji Chenxi almost felt like he was being informed rather than asked.
“Come for what? Dinner?”
“To check on your wounds. Though if Your Highness wants to invite me for dinner, I wouldn’t refuse either.”
“Brother Chi Zhou, you really take things for granted. What if I don’t want you to come?”
“Then I won’t come.” Chi Zhuo was used to handling things himself. Most matters could be delegated, but his need for control was strong. He insisted on reviewing anything decisive himself. With so many industries involved, it all added up to a massive undertaking.
“Alright, then. I’m planning a full fish banquet tonight. Anything you want? I can have them cook a couple extra vegetable dishes for you.”
Chi Zhuo replied, “…No need. I’m not picky. Just follow Your Highness’s plan.”
They chatted casually for a few more minutes before Ji Chenxi ended the call.
The moment he hung up, Ji Chenxi checked the public opinion on the StarNet, giving it a little nudge while he was at it. Then, remembering something, he grew a bit irritated. His father must have learned about his injury immediately. He had already sent a message earlier. Ji Chenxi had intended to respond later, but if his father saw he was hurt and made him come to the palace, he would have to cancel Chi Zhuo’s visit.
Clearly, he shouldn’t have agreed to Chi Zhuo’s visit so easily.
When Ji Chenxi checked the messages he hadn’t paid attention to earlier, he found that his father had indeed sent a second one.
[Was it you this time?]
Above it was another message: [I will give you an explanation.]
The two messages were only thirty-six minutes apart.
Ji Chenxi’s expression darkened. He had clearly underestimated his father’s abilities. In just thirty-six minutes, his father had ruled out his two children and their factions and traced it directly back to him.
Ji Chenxi retraced everything in his mind, making sure he hadn’t left a single clue behind. This message might have just been a test from his father, who, showing his usual coldness, sent the two messages anyway.
[Does His Majesty think I have nothing better to do and am looking for trouble?]
[Forget it, whatever His Majesty thinks.]
After sending these, Ji Chenxi cut off the light-screen network entirely.
Good. At least tonight he wouldn’t have to face that old man. Ji Chenxi was very pleased with this outcome. As for how Chi Zhuo would contact him after the network was cut off, that was no longer his concern.
Back at the manor, Ji Chenxi first lay down in the treatment pod to heal his wounds, then took a bath to wash away the bloodstains.
By the time all that was done, it was already three in the afternoon. Ji Chenxi treated himself to some afternoon tea—rose mousse, which tasted really good. Since he had skipped lunch, he ended up having three pieces of rose mousse and finally felt a bit overwhelmed by the sweetness.
Just as he was sipping his floral tea to balance the richness, the butler came to announce that Chi Zhuo from the Chi family had come to visit.
Ji Chenxi told the butler to let him in without hesitation and used the light-panel to order two more desserts—less sweet this time, more popular with most people.
But when Chi Zhuo actually arrived, Ji Chenxi immediately regretted letting him in. Maybe he could have canceled those two desserts he’d just ordered.
Chi Zhuo came, sure, but he also brought an enormous bouquet of champagne-colored roses.
Peach Snow Mountain—a pale, soft-colored rose. Beautiful, no doubt. But who brings roses to visit someone who’s injured?
Under Ji Chenxi’s scrutinizing gaze, Chi Zhuo offered an explanation: “They remind me of the white rose Third Prince gave me back then.”
That was clearly an excuse. Peach Snow Mountain was more champagne-colored, fundamentally different from white roses. Still, the bouquet in Chi Zhuo’s hands was undeniably beautiful, with dewdrops that seemed freshly picked.
“Since you came just to eat for free anyway, I’ll reluctantly accept the flowers,” Ji Chenxi said.
Right after Ji Chenxi spoke, a maid came over to take the bouquet.
“These flowers were just picked from the rose garden. If they’d been picked this morning, they would’ve looked even better.”
“You wrapped them?”
“Mm.”
Ji Chenxi swallowed back the thought that maybe the wrapping wasn’t great, and instead said something that would make anyone who picked flowers by hand feel appreciated: “I’ll put them in a vase later.”
Chi Zhuo took it as mere courtesy. After sitting down beside Ji Chenxi, the latter poured him a cup of steaming flower tea. Soon after, a maid brought over the desserts Ji Chenxi had ordered earlier.
“Try some,” Ji Chenxi said politely.
Chi Zhuo wasn’t particularly interested in sweets, but he tasted one anyway. It was quite good, so he took a couple more bites. Meanwhile, Ji Chenxi had lowered his gaze, flipping through a paperback book.
The young man’s silver hair fell freely, and under the sunlight, each strand seemed to glow. With his silver hair and blue eyes, Ji Chenxi almost looked like an ethereal angel just from appearance alone.
“I thought you’d come later,” Ji Chenxi spoke first.
“I wanted to see if you were seriously hurt.”
“Even if I were seriously hurt, as long as it’s not a broken arm or hand, I could just lie in the treatment pod. Or… did you see me yesterday and already want to see me again today? What is this, lovesick?”
The teasing words came from a face that never showed expression, making it hard to tell whether he was joking or serious.
“Yes.”
A low, deep voice dropped the single word.
Ji Chenxi, who had thought his teasing would silence Chi Zhuo, almost found himself at a loss for words instead.
A smile appeared on Ji Chenxi’s face. “Brother Chi Zhou, this isn’t good. You’ll make me think you like me.”
The attendants nearby seemed not to hear a word of what their master had just said, continuing with their tasks as if nothing had happened.
Not giving Chi Zhuo a chance to reply, Ji Chenxi asked, “Still want some dessert? If not, I’ll show you how I arrange flowers.”
“I’m done.”
Ji Chenxi stood up, took the large bouquet of roses from the maid, and walked into the room with Chi Zhuo.
Today, Su Yu’s mood had been riding a rollercoaster along with his friend. At first, he was genuinely happy seeing his friend meet with the wealthy heiress—after all, Lu Churan happened to be the freesia he had mentioned before. She was slightly older than Ji Chenxi, but otherwise perfect. But the happiness didn’t last long before he saw the news that Ji Chenxi had been attacked.
Even though Ji Chenxi explained that it was just a staged act, Su Yu was still uneasy. He decided to head to the manor. If Ji Chenxi had any follow-up plans, Su Yu could step in and assist.
Su Yu visited the Rose Manor every few days. He didn’t even need to report his arrival—he could just walk right in.
So, the moment he arrived, he caught sight of a scene that completely shook his sense of reality.
Ji Chenxi and Chi Zhuo were walking side by side, and Ji Chenxi was holding a huge bouquet of roses in his arms.
Ro-roses!!
Su Yu’s pupils nearly shook. Even with all this happening, they still say they aren’t dating!!!
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)
