Chapter 173

Chapter 173

“Let’s negotiate, Sheng’er. Can Imperial Brother refuse to dance?” Weiqing Song tore the damned costume off his body and tossed it aside.

Shengsheng Zhou nodded. “Of course, Imperial Brother.”

Before Weiqing could show his joy at victory, Shengsheng continued, “Then we’d better hurry and select a grave pit. I hear plots are especially scarce here. Anyone who dies on the mountain has to take a number.”

Zhiyu Jiang nodded in agreement and handed Weiqing a bouquet. “Here. Good luck, Your Highness the Crown Prince.”

Weiqing accepted it and muttered, “…If word gets out, this may be the last time a girl ever gives me flowers.”

Zhiyu patted his shoulder, her eyes sincere and her tone earnest. “It’s all right. Flowers will grow on your grave in the future.”

“Pfft–hahahahahahahaha!” Shengsheng and Siran Ming mocked him together.

Fusheng Duan thought it was time to begin preparing Weiqing’s birthday present.

After driving everyone else out, Shengsheng stood in the dilapidated little courtyard temporarily designated as their rehearsal space and beckoned to Weiqing. “Come, Imperial Brother. Learn the dance with me.”

With the face of a condemned man, Weiqing swayed several times after her, only to receive Teacher Zhou’s harsh criticism. “Are you doing rehabilitation exercises, Imperial Brother? Fusheng learned much faster than you.”

Shengsheng succeeded. One sentence ignited Weiqing’s competitive spirit.

He refused to believe he could not outdance a bird.

The dance required little technique. As long as his arms had strength and his waist could twist, an outsider like Weiqing could scrape a passing grade.

Looking with satisfaction at Weiqing in costume, a thin sheen of sweat across his brow and fighting spirit blazing in his eyes, Shengsheng nodded.

“Imperial Brother, you’re amazing. That dance crashed straight into my… hm, heart spot.”

Weiqing: “…” What part of the body was that?

Shengsheng turned around with great flair and shouted toward the courtyard gate, “Open the door! Release Imperial Brother!”

Now everyone surnamed Duanmu–and everyone who was not–stood with mouths slightly open as a giant, vivid pink clam entered their sight.

Wukong Zhou looked especially displeased.

They must never use another riddle devised by Xiyuan Duanmu. This one had only just gone live and someone already solved it. What dignity did Deep Mountain have left?!

“Please enjoy the dance *The Giant Clam Blossoms*, performed by Mr. Song, who wishes to remain anonymous.”

A ring of green gauze trimmed the vivid pink clam. To the beat Shengsheng clapped, its shell slowly opened with graceful rhythm, revealing Weiqing’s dead-fish eyes and lifeless expression inside.

Limited-edition Weiqing Song clam-shell skin.

Seeing so many spectators, the beautiful clam maiden shyly closed her shell. Then she waved left and right, the shell moving beneath his control as elegantly as ribbons.

Yet the person controlling the shell so gracefully was an unmistakable man, creating a bizarre illusion of absurd beauty.

The crowd: “…” Though standing in the front row, they could not think of a single outrageous remark.

“Heshen, doesn’t this giant clam belong in the water? Why don’t you take him back?”

Someone addressed the pale, beardless man.

Heshen Duanmu shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

After finally completing the dance, Weiqing slowly closed his shell amid deathly silence and retreated into the courtyard.
Siran Ming could no longer laugh aloud. The rope had been transferred to Zhiyu Jiang’s waist, and he now clung to her leg, grinning so widely every back tooth showed as he laughed soundlessly.

Zhiyu had never imagined such a peculiar result. She exchanged a glance with Shengsheng Zhou and gave her a thumbs-up.

After a long silence, the spectators began applauding one after another, admiration filling their eyes.

He was a true man. Even transformed into a giant clam, he knew when to yield and when to stand firm. They could not help admiring him.

…

The moment Weiqing Song returned, he locked himself in his room and refused to see anyone.

Afraid he would go hungry, Shengsheng asked Zhiyu to find a ladder. With little Siran steadying it below, she climbed onto the roof.

She lifted a roof tile and peered inside.

A vague mound bulged on the bed. He was presumably beneath the covers.

Shengsheng called softly, “Imperial Brother.”

The mound did not respond.

She tried again. “Imperial Brother, stop sulking. Come out and eat.”

“Don’t worry. It isn’t pig slop.”

Xiyuan Duanmu, passing by: “…” Sorry to have made you eat pig slop.

“Imperial Brother, don’t be sad. If you’re unhappy, go on Soul. No one on Soul knows your identity. Soul has no labels and no acquaintances. Release yourself freely on Soul and meet the people who truly understand you!”

A face devoid of emotion slowly emerged from beneath the covers. “Are the pickles finished?”

Reminded of them, Shengsheng clapped both hands. “Oh, right. Goodbye, Imperial Brother.”

Afraid she would rush, the little yellow bird on her head fluttered down with a chirp, reminding her to watch her step.

Shengsheng smiled blissfully. “Good baby.”

She wondered where Fusheng Duan had gone. She had checked his room earlier and found no one.

Honestly. His health was poor, yet he still ran everywhere.

Shengsheng was deeply frustrated by his failure to take care of himself.

Just then, Zhiyu suddenly ran in from outside. “Sheng… Princess! I found a bird!”

Shengsheng turned toward her voice.

Dressed in white, Zhiyu ran toward her excitedly, her hair buns bobbing with every step. The sun hung high overhead, seeming to gild her entire body in golden light.

None of that stopped Shengsheng from clearly seeing the parrot with two patches of blush perched upon her head.

Shengsheng: “…Xiaosui?”

Fusheng narrowed his eyes and shot the other bird a sharp look.

Xiaosui’s feathers puffed out all over as he landed on Zhiyu’s shoulder. *Senior, I came to find you.*

They had not been completely certain Zhiyu would be here, so Shengsheng had left him behind. Unexpectedly, the child had found his own way over.

“Hm? Does Your Highness know this bird?” Zhiyu asked.

Shengsheng nodded and walked over to stroke the parrot’s cowlick. “Mm. I raised him in the imperial palace. If Xiaoyu likes him, I’ll give him to you.”

Shengsheng gave Xiaosui a look.

Understanding immediately, Xiaosui shuffled closer and rubbed against Zhiyu’s face.

Zhiyu looked delighted. “Really? Thank you, Your Highness. I like him very much.”

Imitating Shengsheng, Zhiyu stroked the upright tuft on the parrot’s head and asked with a smile, “What should I normally feed him?”

Shengsheng’s own fingers itched, so she stroked Pecky and answered casually, “Anything that keeps him alive.”

Compared with the meticulous care she took selecting fruit for Pecky, her attitude could hardly have been more perfunctory.