My Vampire Boyfriend

Chapter 7 The Delicate One

Mount Xichun was the most renowned peak in the western city, its body sculpted from quartz sandstone and shaped like a vast trapezoid, with slopes facing each of the four directions.

The southern side had been developed, with stone steps winding to the summit, while the northern slope—rugged and complex, a notorious dead zone for signal—had never been officially opened. Yet, drawn by its wildness, countless mountain enthusiasts had come to challenge it in recent years, undeterred by the warnings.

It was this very northern slope that Xie Xiu and his friends had decided to conquer, following a post they’d found online.

However, not long after their taxi set off, Xie Xiu began to regret it—regret inviting Rong Ze to join their little expedition two days ago.

He truly hadn’t expected that the junior he’d met through gaming and shared interests would turn out to be such a finicky, spoiled brat—and one with no sense of tact.

From the moment they got into the car, Rong Ze had worn an expression of pure disdain, complaining right in front of the driver about the “smell” in the car. The driver’s face had gone visibly dark; if not for the long distance of the trip, he might’ve thrown them out then and there.

Now, the spoiled one was whining again—this time about the cramped space.

“Move over,” Rong Ze said, elbowing Chi Qinghe. “I’m not comfortable.”

Chi Qinghe, already pressed against the door, looked annoyed. Grabbing Rong Ze’s arm, he snapped, “Then bear with it.”

“Why the hell should I?” Rong Ze shot back, jerking his arm free and deliberately leaning closer, pressing into Chi Qinghe’s side.

If he wasn’t comfortable, then neither would his “blood donor” be.

Poor Chi Qinghe—before long, the clumsy ghost had practically fallen into his arms, one restless leg pressing against his thigh, nearly crossing a line that shouldn’t be crossed.

The uninvited closeness made Chi Qinghe distinctly uncomfortable; with a sigh, he gave in and shifted aside.

Triumphant, Rong Ze muttered, “If anyone’s enduring it, it won’t be me.”

Chi Qinghe shot him a look of silent exasperation.

From the other side, Xie Xiu couldn’t stand it any longer. If this delicate creature was already so hard to deal with now, what would happen once they started climbing?

He decided to cut his losses and hinted gently, “Rong Ze, we’re going to climb an undeveloped mountain. The trail’s rough—maybe even dangerous. Are you sure you still want to come?”

“Of course. You think I’m afraid of danger?” Rong Ze scoffed. To him, what humans called “danger” was hardly worth mentioning.

But since he’d been the one to invite him, Xie Xiu couldn’t very well tell him to leave. He leaned back, opening the post he’d saved, when Rong Ze nudged him again.

“Should’ve known not to sit in the middle. You’re both squishing me.”

Xie Xiu: “…”

Chi Qinghe finally interjected, “Sir, please pull over.”

Xie Xiu thought his friend had given up, but it turned out Chi Qinghe just wanted to take another car and meet them at the mountain. Xie Xiu agreed.

Up front, Liu Xiao awkwardly offered, “Maybe I should switch with Rong Ze? We can squeeze a bit.”

If only it were that simple. Liu Xiao, broad-shouldered and solid as a mountain himself, took up nearly half the back seat. It wasn’t really that crowded—this was all on Rong Ze. How had they not noticed he was this difficult before? And why on earth had Chi Qinghe befriended him?

So, the three men and one ghost split up.

An hour later, they regrouped at the foot of Mount Xichun’s northern slope.

The path was wild and unmarked, but Xie Xiu had chosen the easiest route according to an online guide.

He had found a new post a few days ago—one that mentioned a hidden cave. The author had stayed active, even arguing with commenters who accused him of making it up.

Before setting off, Xie Xiu reminded Rong Ze repeatedly: they had to reach the fourth peak. If he got tired, he should say so early and not waste everyone’s time.

“Who are you looking down on? Even if you all tire out, I won’t,” Rong Ze boasted, his pride stung. A few peaks were nothing to a powerful vampire.

“Your words,” Xie Xiu said evenly.

“Yes, mine!”

“Then let’s go.”

The narrow mountain path wound upward. Xie Xiu led the way, Liu Xiao followed, and Rong Ze—too stubborn to walk behind humans—tried to take the lead, only to realize he didn’t know the way. He trailed right behind Xie Xiu instead.

Chi Qinghe, walking last, watched Rong Ze’s childish behavior in silence.

He’d skipped his boxing gym’s friendly match for this fool’s sake. It wasn’t important—but for some reason, he couldn’t shake his irritation. Still, he was here now; at least it counted as exercise.

Half an hour later, Xie Xiu was dumbfounded. They hadn’t even reached the first peak before Rong Ze’s whining began. Every few seconds he asked where the cave was, his tone increasingly impatient—clearly exhausted.

Wasn’t this the same “invincible” ghost who’d bragged earlier?

“Are we there yet? You’re not tricking me, are you?” Rong Ze snapped, too tired to climb but unable to reveal his true nature in front of humans.

“Do you have no sense of time?” Xie Xiu stopped, turning to glare at him. “Didn’t I say the fourth peak? It’s a wild trail—it takes at least two hours. Who was it that said he never gets tired?”

Sensing the tension, Liu Xiao hurried to mediate. “I’m a little tired too. Why don’t we rest for a bit?”

Chi Qinghe glanced at Rong Ze. His pale face gave little away, but his quickened breathing betrayed his fatigue.

“Let’s take a break,” Chi Qinghe said quietly.

Since everyone agreed, Xie Xiu stopped to drink some water—only for Rong Ze to suddenly shout beside his ear.

“No need! You humans—” he paused, sneering, “—you’re tired already? Pathetic! Move! We’re finding that cave!”

“Don’t push it!” Xie Xiu snapped, furious. Liu Xiao grabbed his arm to calm him down, but the insult had hit home.

Now Chi Qinghe had had enough. He told the others to rest and caught up to Rong Ze, pulling him aside. “If you’re tired, just admit it. Must you always pick a fight?”

Rong Ze jerked free, retorting stubbornly, “You humans are tired. I’m not.”

“Fine,” Chi Qinghe said coolly. “Then tell me—are you climbing or not? If not, I’ll take you down right now.”

“I’m not going down.”

Humans were complicated, often inscrutable—that was why Chi Qinghe had few friends. Vampires, however, seemed simpler. This one certainly was. In the few days he’d known Rong Ze, he’d realized that the vampire’s fierceness was only skin-deep; beneath it was pride, fragility, and an absurd stubbornness.

And there was only one way to deal with the proud: let them suffer the consequences.

For the next half hour, Rong Ze’s pride kept him climbing through pure misery. He said nothing to the humans, but by the time they neared the third peak, his legs gave out.

To his chagrin, not one of the humans seemed tired. Were they even human?

The poor vampire climbed on, resisting the urge to transform. But his luck ran out—his foot slipped.

“Ah, damn it—!”

In an instant, Chi Qinghe reacted, catching Rong Ze’s arm. But the uneven ground betrayed him; his balance faltered, and he was pulled down too. Instinct took over—he wrapped his arms around Rong Ze as they tumbled down the slope, until a tree stopped their fall.

“Quick! Liu Xiao!” Xie Xiu slid down to them. “Qinghe, are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Chi Qinghe winced, rubbing his shoulder. The thick winter clothes had cushioned most of the impact. He turned to Rong Ze. “Did you hurt yourself?”

Rong Ze was dazed, his knee throbbing from where it had struck a rock.

But how could a noble A-class vampire admit pain when the human beside him was unscathed? If a little fall could hurt him, what kind of disgrace would that be?

“Who said I fell?” he muttered, glaring down at Chi Qinghe. “I jumped. Why did you follow me down?”

Xie Xiu lost his temper. “What’s wrong with you? He tried to save you, and that’s how you talk?”

“I didn’t ask him to,” Rong Ze shot back coldly.

“You—!”

“Enough,” Chi Qinghe interrupted, standing and dusting himself off. “You and Liu Xiao go ahead. I’ll rest here a while.”

Xie Xiu ignored him and snapped at Rong Ze, “I only brought you because of Qinghe. Go back down the mountain—you’re done.”

For once, Rong Ze didn’t argue. Or rather, he didn’t know what to say. He had never dealt with humans like this before; the words just wouldn’t come.

He looked at Xie Xiu, then at Chi Qinghe—and suddenly felt an unfamiliar pang of frustration. The more it twisted inside him, the more he hated these humans. Mere humans, daring to speak to him like that.

“I don’t need you. I’ll find the cave myself!”

“Fine, fine,” Liu Xiao sighed. “You two rest. I’ll go with Xie Xiu.”

Winter’s forest was silent and bare, save for the occasional cry of a bird. After a long pause, Chi Qinghe finally asked, “Why are you so determined to find this cave?”

Rong Ze, barely a century old, had once slept for fifty years. Though born an A-class pureblood, his frail body was weaker than even his B-class servant’s. His noble title was nothing but an empty name.

He was slow at everything—his magic unstable, dangerous, prone to backfire. If the mysterious cave truly had something to do with the degraded half-bloods, he would destroy it himself—to restore his pride, to prove to the clan that Prince Anthony was no disgrace.

These humiliating thoughts were not for humans to know—least of all to look down upon.

“It’s none of your business!” he shouted, turning to storm off. But pain shot through his knee; his leg buckled, and he fell face-first into the dirt.

“Damn it!” he cursed, clawing at the ground, humiliated. “Damn you humans!”

Chi Qinghe: “…”

Rong Ze: “I’ll kill you all!”

Chi Qinghe had reached his limit.

He crouched down, lifting the sulking vampire by the arm. Seeing how unsteady his right leg was, he sighed, “Your pride isn’t worth this much trouble. If it hurts, say it. Why pretend?”

“Who said I fell? I’m not hurt!” Rong Ze snapped again.

Chi Qinghe ignored him, kneeling to massage his leg through the fabric, working from ankle to calf. When he reached the knee, Rong Ze finally yelped.

“Ah! That hurts!”

“So you do feel pain?” Chi Qinghe said dryly.

Rong Ze went silent.