"You idiot, read fewer novels."
"You moron... what the hell goes through your head?!" Qingwu snapped. Did he think they were acting in some play about a wise lord?
"No~ no~ my lord... how could you do this to me..."
Jingze looked utterly stunned, his face a picture of disbelief that Qingwu would actually hit him, complete with an "I'm a wounded little baby" expression.
His fist clenched. Again.
Qingwu was already boiling over, a vein bulging on his forehead.
He was about to explode.
"Modal~ you're still messing around, huh!!!"
"Ow~ fine, I'll stop. Why are you getting angry, my lord?!" Jingze rubbed his stomach and complained indignantly, "I was just trying to give it a sense of ceremony! Build some momentum for our operation. All right, my lord..."
"I'll shut up."
Seeing Qingwu raise his fist, Jingze immediately chickened out and became perfectly obedient. He shut his mouth, even stuffed a strip of cloth into it, then lay down with his hands over his head and curled up. His movements were so practiced it was almost heartbreaking.
Qingwu was baffled. "Jingze, what are you doing?!"
"Oh~ hehe... I forgot... I'm not at home... ahahaha... not at home... hahaha..."
Once he had settled into position, Jingze suddenly felt something was off. Seeing Qingwu's puzzled gaze, he finally remembered that he hadn't actually caused any trouble, and this wasn't one of his elders...
"I'm not a masochist... and it's not a habit..."
"It's nothing. I just think the ground's comfortable." Jingze stubbornly tried to explain, not realizing he was only making himself look worse. Qingwu hadn't even asked anything, and he had already exposed himself.
"..."
Qingwu watched, speechless with exasperation.
"Holy shit~ Jingze, just how many times have you been beaten to develop muscle memory like that?!"
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