Chapter 51 Just Cook Some Porridge

Chapter 51: Just Cook Some Porridge

Zhou Mingqi paused in his movements and, without a second thought, flipped the bedding aside.

When he saw who was underneath, his eyes narrowed sharply.

Cheng Ge lay there, his cheeks flushed a deep red, the corners of his eyes tinged with an unnatural rosy hue, like peach blossoms after spring rain.

His once-clear pupils were veiled in a mist of water, his eyelashes fluttering, and his parted lips were a bloody crimson.

Damp hair stuck messily to his face, silky strands tangled across the bed, a few stray strands unconsciously winding around his fingers, tightening and loosening.

His brow was slightly furrowed, his breathing unsteady, his neck arched back slightly, clearly miserable.

His slender fingers, pink-tinged, clutched the bedding into a wrinkled mess.

Cheng Ge felt like he was lying on a hot skillet, wrapped in a wave of heat, his whole body hot and restless, unbearably miserable.

Seeing him like this, Zhou Mingqi knew right away what was going on, and his face darkened scarily.

"Fu Quan! Get your ass in here!" Zhou Mingqi, furious, turned to head outside.

But before he could take a step, someone grabbed his wrist.

In his daze, Cheng Ge felt something cool and instinctively held on tight, mumbling, "I think... I'm burning up... so hot..."

Zhou Mingqi looked down at the hand gripping his—slender fingers, now red from the heat.

He felt like he'd been burned, instinctively wanting to shake it off.

But as soon as he moved, Cheng Ge held on like a lifeline, gripping his hand tightly, letting out a few unconscious moans.

The sound was like waves of heat, constantly grating on Zhou Mingqi's frayed nerves.

The next moment, Cheng Ge rubbed his cheek against the back of Zhou Mingqi's hand.

Zhou Mingqi froze, his breathing quickened, his temples throbbing.

But as he looked at Cheng Ge's unconscious, utterly dependent actions, his heart softened somehow.

He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and pried Cheng Ge's hand away, wrapping him in the blanket like a giant cocoon.

Cheng Ge felt like he was burning up, his vision blurry, feeling like he was dying.

In a hoarse voice, he pleaded, "Quick... get me some ibuprofen."

Zhou Mingqi paused, his face darkening instantly as he asked coldly, "What's that?"

"I need ibuprofen..." Cheng Ge was getting annoyed. What kind of caveman was this guy? Didn't even know what ibuprofen is!

Zhou Mingqi had no clue what ibuprofen was.

But in this situation, the only thing someone would ask for was probably a woman. He'd heard Cheng Ge wasn't married, so he figured it must be a concubine or a maid at home.

At that thought, Zhou Mingqi's anger flared, and he yanked the blanket over Cheng Ge's face.

Out of sight, out of mind...

Cheng Ge, nearly suffocating, struggled groggily to push the blanket away, gasping for air, muttering, "Then get me two packs of 999..."

Zhou Mingqi's face was tight, his back teeth aching as he reached out and clamped Cheng Ge's cheeks.

He snorted coldly, "First you ask for some 'fen,' then for wine—should I prepare some appetizers too?"

Cheng Ge clutched the bedding, his mouth pinched into a pout by Zhou Mingqi's grip.

He stared at Zhou Mingqi with unfocused eyes, sweat trickling down his cheek and neck.

After a long pause...

"Just cook some porridge, no need for appetizers."

Zhou Mingqi: "..."

Zhou Mingqi was completely thrown off by him. He let go abruptly and walked out without another word.

His steps were alarmingly fast, as if afraid that if he slowed down, he might be tempted to strangle the man alive.

He spotted Fu Quan still trembling on the ground, and kicked him over with a single blow.

"You dog of a servant! How dare you!"

Fu Quan rolled a distance away, enduring the pain to scramble back into a kneeling position, his face full of terror.

"Please forgive me, Your Majesty!"

Having served Zhou Mingqi for so long, Fu Quan had risen to his position not just through time but also through his ability to read the room.

With just a glance from the emperor, he could guess six out of ten intentions and handle matters smoothly, earning his trust.

Regarding Cheng Ge, he believed the emperor had special feelings, but as the Emperor, Zhou Mingqi couldn't voice them openly.

As the emperor's close attendant, Fu Quan thought he was being clever by sending Cheng Ge to the dragon bed, assuming things would naturally fall into place.

But now, he had angered the emperor, and he feared he had misjudged the situation.

Seeing his trembling form only fueled Zhou Mingqi's rage, and he kicked him again. "You sure know how to act on your own!"

Fu Quan, pale with fear, knocked his forehead against the floor. "This servant is guilty; I thought..."

"What did you think?!" Zhou Mingqi's eyes blazed. "Go fetch the imperial physician at once!"

Fu Quan scrambled out.

Zhou Mingqi turned back into the room, looking at Cheng Ge, still writhing in discomfort, his heart a mess of emotions.

He sat by the bed, watching Cheng Ge's flushed face, and inexplicably reached out to touch his forehead—it was burning hot.

In his daze, Cheng Ge's clothes had become disheveled, his expression full of allure, and he grabbed Zhou Mingqi's hand again, pulling it toward his chest.

Zhou Mingqi froze, the sensation under his hand unmistakable. He couldn't help but gently brush his fingertips across Cheng Ge's cheek.

Cheng Ge instinctively rubbed against his palm, asking softly, "Did you bring the ibuprofen?"

Zhou Mingqi: "..."

The air fell silent for a moment, then a violent struggle and muffled groans echoed from within the hall.

After a while, the imperial physician hurried in. "Your Majesty, I pay my respects."

"Mm, rise and take a look at him right away." Zhou Mingqi's voice still carried a clear edge of anger.

The physician quickly stood up and cautiously leaned toward the dragon bed.

But as soon as he glanced at the bed, he suddenly spotted a young, handsome gentleman.

At that moment, the guy's hands and feet were tied up tight, and he was staring daggers at the emperor behind him.

The physician hadn't expected this and instinctively looked back at the emperor. "Your Majesty, this is..."

However, when he clearly saw Zhou Mingqi's appearance, he felt like he'd been hit by a truck.

Zhou Mingqi's face was dark as thunder, his eyes looked like they could shoot fire, with veins bulging on his forehead.

And the four red scratch marks on his right cheek were especially glaring, with faint traces of blood seeping out—obviously fresh.

The physician shuddered in fright, his mind went completely blank.

He turned back to glance at the gentleman on the dragon bed, and his mind involuntarily began to imagine a two-million-word novel about forced love.

He never imagined that His Majesty, who usually seemed so proper and reserved in public, could be so wild and unrestrained in private.

The physician swallowed hard. "Your Majesty, this wound of yours..."

"I'm fine. Treat him first. If you can't cure him, haul him off to the mass grave and feed him to the dogs." With that, he turned and strode away.

Everyone: "???"