Raising Wolves CHAPTER 30

 

 Raising wolves  

 Chapter 30

Translated by : DANMEI HEAVEN

   Chapter 30

The phrasing was… highly questionable.

Lu Qingze vaguely recalled Ning Juan mentioning earlier in the day that he would check his legs at night. Instantly, he felt uneasy. "I already said it’s fine. There’s no need."

No sooner had the words left his mouth than the crisp, cool scent of the young man drew closer.

Ning Juan bent slightly, his dark brows lowered as he took hold of Lu Qingze’s knees. Through the soft, snow-white fabric of his inner robes, he could almost feel the smoothness of the skin beneath. He paused briefly before applying a firm but gentle rub.

The inner side of Lu Qingze’s knees was bruised. Caught off guard by the touch to a tender spot, he instinctively clamped his legs together, trapping Ning Juan’s hand between his knees. His brow furrowed. "What are you doing?"

This body was particularly delicate. When busy, the discomfort could be ignored, but once he relaxed, the exhaustion and pain became relentless.

Lu Qingze didn’t even notice the soft, complaining tone in his voice—a far cry from his usual calm and gentle demeanor. It was more like how he sounded in the mornings, when his mind was awake but his body hadn’t quite caught up.

To Ning Juan, seeing this side of Lu Qingze was utterly fascinating.

"Teacher’s gait was off today," Ning Juan murmured, his voice lowering as if coaxing. His throat felt inexplicably dry, and he made no move to withdraw his hand, letting Lu Qingze keep it pinned between his knees. "Let me see."

A stalemate ensued.

The candlelight flickered, casting shifting shadows that outlined the sharp, handsome contours of the young man’s face.

Outside, a light rain began to patter, its sound stark against the dead silence of the night, making the room feel even quieter. Perhaps because they were so close, each could hear the other’s breathing and heartbeat.

Ning Juan’s breathing and pulse were slightly quickened.

Lu Qingze knew all too well how stubborn this little brat could be.

If he refused, Ning Juan would probably wait until dawn, then strip his pants off to inspect his legs while he slept.

The mental image made Lu Qingze pause. After a moment of silent resignation, he finally released his knees.

Sitting on the bed, he scooted back slightly and lifted the hem of his robe, revealing his slender, pale calves.

The calves hadn’t suffered much friction from the horseback ride and were largely unmarked, flawless as white jade.

Lu Qingze figured this would suffice. He blinked his long lashes. "See? Satisfied?"

Ning Juan remained unmoving before him, his gaze fixed on Lu Qingze’s legs, his eyes dark as ink. "Lift it higher."

"..."

So difficult.

After a brief hesitation, Lu Qingze reluctantly tugged the fabric up further.

The bruised inner knees came into view, and Ning Juan’s voice turned icy. "Keep going."

The weight of that gaze on his legs suddenly filled Lu Qingze with an indescribable sense of shame.

Lifting his robes bit by bit to show his legs to his student—even if it was to check injuries—felt far too…

Wait, no!

Lu Qingze realized he was too tired to think straight.

Why was he hesitating? Ning Juan was a man, and so was he. What did it matter if he saw his legs? It wasn’t like he was stripping naked.

Exhausted and wilted, Lu Qingze just wanted to deal with Ning Juan and go to sleep. Resolving to get it over with, he pulled the hem all the way up, exposing his thighs.

The inner thighs were a horrific sight.

The skin there was naturally delicate and slightly fleshy, normally smooth and fair like fine jade under the dim candlelight. But after hours of friction against the saddle, the area was now raw and covered in angry red abrasions, starkly contrasting against the surrounding pale skin.

Ning Juan’s breath hitched, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily.

He should have felt heartache, but instead… an inexplicable, violent impulse surged in his chest.

Seeing Ning Juan’s tense expression, Lu Qingze assumed he was angry at the sight of his injuries and softened his tone. "It’s just minor abrasions. They’ll heal in a couple of days. It’s not a big deal."

The familiar, clear voice snapped Ning Juan out of his daze, and his expression darkened further.

What had he been looking at just now? What had he been thinking?

He didn’t dare dwell on it. Before Lu Qingze could say more, he cut him off almost defensively, his tone firm. "How is this not a big deal?"

When Lu Qingze had washed earlier and seen the injuries, even he had been taken aback. Remembering his earlier claim of having "thick skin," he felt a twinge of guilt. But sitting there with his legs exposed to his student was unbearably awkward, and he instinctively pressed them together. "Fine, I’ll apply some medicine later. It’s late—you should go rest…"

His words trailed off as he froze.

The young emperor, his face cold as frost, silently knelt before him and pulled out a small jar of ointment from his robes—clearly prepared in advance—as if intending to apply it himself.

Lu Qingze was momentarily stunned. "You little brat, you planned this, didn’t you? I’ll do it myself. Just leave the medicine here."

Ning Juan lifted his eyes, giving him a glance. His expression remained icy, his anger unmistakable. Pressing a hand against Lu Qingze’s knee to keep him in place, he uttered two cold, commanding words: "Sit still."

His tone was entirely different from usual, brimming with an imperious, unyielding authority.

If the Ning Juan who usually acted spoiled and clingy in front of him was "Ning Guoguo," then the one before him now was the Emperor of Great Qi, Ning Juan.

Lu Qingze was momentarily at a loss for words.

The bed was slightly high, so with Ning Juan kneeling on the ground, Lu Qingze found himself looking down at him—a rather… peculiar sensation.

Yet the one in control was unmistakably the young man kneeling at his feet.

Lu Qingze felt a bit tormented.

At some point, this little brat’s presence had become overwhelmingly intense—like an unsheathed sword or a restless beast. The act of baring his legs made him uneasy.

It had nothing to do with their identities. It was purely a sense of self-protection that arose when danger encroached upon his private space.

Ning Juan seemed utterly unaware of how bizarre the situation was. With a focused expression, he dipped his fingers into the white ointment and carefully applied it to the bruised skin on the inner side of Lu Qingze’s knee, his attention unwavering.

The ointment was high-quality, cool and soothing as it spread over the skin.

Then came the inner thighs.

Ning Juan held Lu Qingze’s knee with one hand, gently parting his legs. Though his murderous glare at the injuries suggested he wanted to kill someone, his movements were exceptionally tender, as if afraid the slightest pressure would cause pain.

Lu Qingze didn’t feel pain—instead, he was tormented by a slow, maddening itch, like the faintest brush of a feather. Unable to bear it, he urged, "Guoguo, if you dawdle any longer, it’ll be dawn. Maybe I should just do it myself."

Ning Juan still ignored him, his movements remaining deliberate and cautious. To an outsider, it might have looked like he was restoring some priceless antique porcelain.

By the time he finished meticulously applying the ointment, the anger in Ning Juan’s heart still hadn’t fully dissipated. He was furious but had nowhere to direct it.

Staring at the snow-white, slender thighs so close to him, a wicked thought suddenly flashed through his mind.

Before he could even process it, his body had already moved—

He lowered his head and blew gently on the freshly ointment-smeared skin.

The already cool skin tingled under the breath, and Lu Qingze shuddered, goosebumps rising instantly.

Reflexively, he lifted his foot and planted it squarely on Ning Juan’s chest, unable to hold back his exasperation: "You little brat, are you done yet?!"

Ning Juan hadn’t even registered what he’d done before he was kicked.

That exhale seemed to carry away the frustration clogging his chest. The icy expression on the young man’s face melted away, replaced by something else entirely. Being kicked in the chest didn’t anger him—instead, it felt soft and light, and his heartbeat quickened.

Teacher’s strength is so weak.

It doesn’t feel like he’s scolding me at all—more like he’s acting spoiled.

Unable to resist, Ning Juan grabbed Lu Qingze’s ankle. It was so slender that his hand could easily encircle it, the skin as smooth and cool as jade. He narrowed his eyes and secretly rubbed it once.

"I just don’t like it when Teacher hides his injuries from me," he murmured, still holding Lu Qingze’s ankle and refusing to stand. Tilting his head up to look at Lu Qingze’s face, his eyes gleamed brightly, like a puppy who’d gotten a bone and was now playing innocent. "If Teacher’s angry, you can kick me a few more times."

Lu Qingze: "..."

Since when did this little brat develop a masochistic streak?

The position was far too suggestive, and with his legs still bare, Lu Qingze took a steadying breath and tried to pull his foot back. But the difference in strength was too great—he couldn’t budge.

He didn’t dare use too much force, afraid of knocking Ning Juan over.

What kind of karma is this?

Lu Qingze was thoroughly exasperated. A cough burst out of him, his voice hoarse as he snapped, "Let go already. People who know you would understand you’re worried about your teacher. Those who don’t would think you’re flirting with me."

The words came out slightly raspy after his coughing fit.

Ning Juan’s eyelashes trembled. For a moment, it felt like an electric current shot through his chest, sending waves of uncontrollable tingles through him.

Only now did he realize—whether it was applying medicine to Lu Qingze, blowing on his legs, or refusing to let go of his ankle—there was an inherent intimacy to all of it.

In that instant, a vague, scorching thought flickered through his mind… This much.

Just this much.

Then a second thought rose, overshadowing the fleeting one: Would Lu Qingze despise me, like he does Ning Cong?

What had he just been… fantasizing about?

Ning Juan stiffened, a sudden wave of panic washing over him. He immediately released Lu Qingze’s foot and stood up abruptly.

He had been kneeling for too long. The moment he rose, his vision blacked out briefly.

Given Ning Juan’s physical condition, this shouldn’t have been a problem. But in that split second, an idea flashed through his mind. Instead of steadying himself, he let his body sway and deliberately collapsed forward.

Lu Qingze, who had still been simmering with irritation, saw Ning Juan’s face suddenly pale. Alarmed, he quickly reached out to catch him: "Slow down! What’s the rush?"

Ning Juan’s lips curled imperceptibly. Leaning against Lu Qingze like a spoiled child, he nuzzled into the crook of his neck, greedily inhaling the faint, familiar scent of plum blossoms: "Teacher, can I sleep with you?"

Lu Qingze smiled. "Of course not."

Ning Juan rubbed against him pitifully a couple more times.

The soft hair tickling his neck was warm, but Lu Qingze remained unmoved. Coolly, he used two fingers to push away that furry head.

Having failed twice at acting spoiled, Ning Juan fell silent for a moment before deciding to divert Lu Qingze’s attention: "Pan Jingmin is unexpectedly tight-lipped. Zheng Yao interrogated him all night, but he still hasn’t talked."

As expected, Lu Qingze’s focus shifted: "It seems he’s very confident in where he’s hidden the evidence."

"Or rather, he’s very confident in Wei Helong," Ning Juan replied, a faint trace of mockery flashing in his eyes.

Though Ning Juan was the emperor, his威慑力 (deterrence) paled in comparison to Wei Helong’s.

Pan Jingmin feared retaliation from Wei Helong but also believed Wei Helong would protect him. His confidence and fear of Wei Helong far outweighed his fear of the emperor standing before him.

Lu Qingze noticed the cold sharpness in Ning Juan’s gaze and patted his shoulder: "This is essentially our first open confrontation with Wei Helong. There’s no need to rush—we must proceed with caution."

Ning Juan gazed at him deeply and nodded. "There’s been a lot to handle lately, and it’s been exhausting. I’ll need Teacher’s assistance. It’s late—let’s rest for now."

Lu Qingze crossed his arms and looked at him, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He wasn’t fooled: "Mm. When you leave, remember to put out the lamp for me."

"..."

Seems like I won’t be getting my way tonight.

Ning Juan sighed regretfully. Watching Lu Qingze climb into bed, he couldn’t resist calling out pitifully one last time: "Teacher…"

Lu Qingze closed his eyes and waved him off like shooing a mosquito, rolling over and curling up under the thin blanket. Soon, his even breathing filled the room—his silhouette looking both fragile and utterly heartless.

Ning Juan: "..."

Resigned, Ning Juan turned and extinguished the candle, then stepped out of the room with a heavy heart, carefully closing the door behind him.

The rain outside had only lasted a short while and had already stopped. The damp ground was mottled with puddles. The shadow guard who had followed him earlier was still lurking in the darkness and blinked in surprise when he saw Ning Juan emerge.

Ning Juan glanced at him: "What?"

The shadow guard whispered, "This subordinate thought… you would stay the night with Lord Lu."

...Why bring up the exact thing that didn’t happen?!

The emperor, who had just been kicked out of the room, kept his face expressionless as he strode past the tactless shadow guard and headed back to the study.

________________________________________

The next day, Lu Qingze woke up at around 9 a.m.

After half a month of traveling by boat and rushing to Jiangxi the moment they set foot on land, he hadn’t had a proper night’s rest in over ten days. His body, pushed to its limits, had accidentally overslept.

Groggy, Lu Qingze forced himself up, washed up, put on his mask, and stepped outside.

As expected, several shadow guards were stationed outside, tightly securing the small courtyard.

When Lu Qingze emerged, a scar-faced shadow guard saluted: "Lord Lu, you’re awake. Would you like breakfast?"

Strictly speaking, it was practically lunchtime by now.

Noticing that the meal served was for two, Lu Qingze didn’t rush to start eating.

Yesterday, as soon as they arrived, they had ordered the construction of shelters. With the emperor personally present, no one dared slack off. The first batch of shelters for the sick was completed by morning, and patients were already being admitted.

At dawn, Ning Juan had personally inspected the shelters and the porridge distribution sites before checking the riverbanks. Estimating the time, he had returned, changed clothes, and headed to Lu Qingze’s room. Seeing him, Ning Juan’s mood instantly improved: "Teacher, why didn’t you start without me? Did you rest well?"

Lu Qingze side-eyed him: "Well enough. Just kept dreaming of a ghost blowing cold air on me."

Ning Juan’s ears turned red. He had no idea what had come over him last night and stayed silent.

"How are things outside?" Lu Qingze asked, having successfully rendered him speechless. Satisfied, he leisurely picked up his chopsticks.

Ning Juan washed his hands and sat down: "Shelters have been set up in various prefectures, and porridge distribution began today. Following Teacher’s suggestion, we sent people disguised as refugees to spread the word yesterday. Sure enough, many hidden refugees emerged today seeking food. Some were infected and, after persuasion, went to the shelters."

Flood control had also been set in motion. The officials before Pan Jingmin had built a solid foundation for water management, and the local officials were quite knowledgeable. Combined with Lu Qingze’s plan, the floodwaters would recede soon.

It seemed everything was moving in the right direction.

All that remained was finding a cure for the epidemic and getting Pan Jingmin to talk.

Pleased, Lu Qingze ate a few extra bites. Before he could even finish chewing, Commander Zheng arrived for an audience.

Ning Juan had never liked being constantly attended to, especially during meals with Lu Qingze. His frosty gaze landed on Zheng Yao.

Zheng Yao, having heard of the emperor’s return, had come straight for an audience. Feeling the weight of Ning Juan’s stare, his scalp prickled. He had no idea how he’d offended His Majesty.

Did those bastards secretly hide the gold after all?

Ning Juan withdrew his gaze and spoke coolly: "Did the interrogation of Pan Jingmin yield any results?"

Zheng Yao’s confidence instantly withered: "Not yet."

Ning Juan said indifferently, "What was that? I didn’t hear you. Speak up."

Zheng Yao’s eyelid twitched violently. Resigned, he closed his eyes and obeyed loudly: "Nothing yet!"

The moment the words left his mouth, Ning Juan slammed his chopsticks onto the table with a sharp crack, his voice icy: "You’ve had a full day and night and still haven’t gotten anything out of him, yet you have the nerve to shout so loudly?"

Didn’t you tell me to speak up?!

Zheng Yao was suffering in silence, increasingly convinced that his subordinates had caused this mess. His head drooped dejectedly, but his eyes darted upward, desperately sending a plea for help toward Lu Qingze.

This subtle movement didn’t escape Ning Juan’s notice. The emperor’s voice grew even colder: "Commander Zheng, who exactly are you making eyes at?"

Lu Qingze: "..."

Zheng Yao: "..."

Zheng Yao’s eye twitched. It suddenly dawned on him that "making eyes" at the Imperial Tutor was a far graver offense than "failing to extract a confession."

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