I Don't Want to Be a Charmboy【Quick Wear】

Chapter 388 His Highness the Crown Prince is Outstandingly Talented (26)

After Lin Shen finished writing, he was proudly waiting for his father's praise when his eyes inadvertently swept across the imperial desk and suddenly noticed half a scroll peeking out from under a stack of memorials.

The edges of the paper were yellowed, and it looked quite old, standing out starkly against the brand-new official documents around it.

"Huh? What's this?" His curiosity piqued, he reached out and pulled it out without thinking much about it.

Emperor Qi was still reeling from those four words when he saw this, his expression changed slightly, and he subconsciously reached out to stop him: "Abao, don't—"

But it's too late.

With a flick of his wrist, Lin Shen unfurled the scroll before his eyes with a "whoosh."

The painting depicts a boy who is about seventeen or eighteen years old.

Her black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, unbound by any crown, loosely tied back only with a simple red ribbon.

Dressed in fiery red, her skin appeared even whiter than snow, her beauty unparalleled, as if she embodied all the beauty and grace in the world.

The young man stood tall and slender, bathed in the hazy moonlight and shadows of plum blossoms, his robes fluttering, like an immortal about to ride the wind and depart.

What made Lin Shen's heart skip a beat was that face.

His eyebrows, eyes, nose, lips... everything about him was exactly the same as the one he saw in the mirror every day; they were almost like he was made from the same mold.

He stared, stunned, a strange feeling rising within him. He vaguely felt that the person in the painting was very familiar, as if he had seen him somewhere before, but he couldn't quite place it. He frowned slightly, trying hard to search his memory.

Emperor Qi kept a close eye on his expression. When he saw him frown, his fingers in his sleeves twitched involuntarily, and a barely perceptible hint of disappointment flashed across his eyes, only to be covered by an even deeper, more complex emotion.

Lin Shen shook his head, putting aside that inexplicable sense of familiarity, and looked up at Emperor Qi, his tone somewhat naive.

"Father, is this a portrait of me? When did you paint it behind my back? I don't remember wearing such red clothes."

Emperor Qi's brows relaxed instantly, and he maintained his gentle and loving demeanor. He smiled faintly and spoke in an exceptionally soft voice.

"It's you. I drew it in my spare time based on my imagination. I thought my Abao would look good in red."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over the painting before returning to Lin Shen's face, his tone as casual as if discussing the weather, "Perfect timing, the red dress I prepared for you is right here. Li Quan—"

Li Quan, who was guarding the outer room, entered in response. His chubby body moved quickly and steadily, and he was indeed carrying a neatly folded red garment in his hand.

The red was extremely pure and vibrant, shimmering with the unique luster of silk under the lamplight. The lapels and cuffs were embroidered with intricate and delicate lotus scroll patterns in gold thread, making it exceptionally beautiful.

Lin Shen stepped forward to examine it closely. The more he looked, the more he felt that the style, color, and even the embroidery on the red dress were not like ordinary formal wear. Rather, it was more like a wedding dress, only the materials and workmanship were more exquisite and luxurious.

Although he felt a little strange, he didn't think too much about it since it was a gift from his father and was prepared according to the appearance of "himself in the painting".

He reached out and took it; it was silky smooth and cool to the touch. He bowed and said, "Thank you, Father. Then I will give it a try."

Emperor Qi nodded slightly, watching calmly as he carried the dazzling red object behind the carved sandalwood screen. Several eunuchs silently followed to help.

The imperial study fell silent instantly, with only the occasional soft crackling of the candlelight.

Emperor Qi stood there, head bowed, his face hidden in the shadows, his expression unreadable.

His fingers unconsciously caressed the smooth edge of the imperial desk, his thoughts seemingly drifting to a distant place. Those past events, sealed by the dust of time, tinged with blood and the fragrance of plum blossoms, were suddenly stirred and surged forth because of this red robe.

The rustling sound of clothes rubbing together came from behind the screen, like feathers gently scratching his heart.

After an unknown amount of time, the faint sound stopped. Immediately afterwards, there were very light footsteps.

"Father."

The boy's voice came from behind him, clear and bright, carrying a hint of excitement from trying on new clothes.

Emperor Qi turned his head to the side almost instinctively.

The next moment, his pupils suddenly contracted, and his breathing stopped.

What greeted my eyes was a fiery red that almost burned them!

Under the candlelight, the young man stood tall and straight, his well-tailored red clothes perfectly outlining his slender waist and smooth shoulder line.

Her dark hair cascaded down, creating an extreme and breathtaking contrast with the vibrant red.

That face, identical to the one in the painting, lost some of its usual brightness under the red dress, but gained a captivating, exquisite beauty!

picture……

so similar!

It's exactly the same as that proud and arrogant figure who looked back with a slight smile under the plum tree deep in my memory!

In a daze, time seemed to flow backward, and he seemed to see the person he had loved and suffered for his entire life standing vividly and beautifully before him, dressed in a fiery red dress.

The immense shock and the ecstasy of regaining what he had lost instantly overwhelmed him.

Emperor Qi felt a lump in his throat, as if his heart was being tightly gripped by an invisible hand, aching and throbbing, making it almost impossible for him to breathe.

He almost couldn't control himself and reached out towards that red color, his fingertips trembling slightly, his lips moving a few times, but he couldn't utter a single word.

Lin Shen was somewhat bewildered by his intense reaction. He looked down at his red clothes, then twirled around, the hem of his clothes drawing a beautiful arc, his tone carrying a hint of uncertain joy.

"Does it look good, Father? I think... this color makes you look quite dashing."

Before he could finish speaking, Emperor Qi suddenly stepped forward, opened his arms, and with an almost uncontrollable force, pulled him tightly into his embrace!

The hug was so tight that Lin Shen's bones ached. He could even clearly feel his father's heart pounding heavily and rapidly through the fabric, like a drum beating against his eardrums.

He was stunned, completely at a loss, and could only be held stiffly, the familiar scent of ambergris emanating from his father lingering around his nose, and... a tremor he had never felt before, a tremor called "fear of loss".

The Imperial Study was silent, with only the candlelight casting the entwined figures of the two on the wall, their shadows twisted and elongated. The red hue, in the light and shadow, was eerie and intense, like an old dream soaked in blood, suddenly reenacted at this moment.

Emperor Qi buried his face deep in Lin Shen's neck, greedily inhaling the fresh, warm breath of the young man, using it to dispel the chill and lingering fear that seeped from his very bones.

He closed his eyes and murmured in an extremely hoarse voice, barely audible, in a voice only the two of them could hear.

“So much like him…so much like him…exactly like Father…”

"This time... I will never... let go again..."

Lin Shen was slightly stunned, a memory flashing through his mind.

Lin Shen was so tightly embraced that he could hardly breathe, and his bones ached slightly.

His father's loss of composure left him bewildered and helpless, yet several extremely blurry fragments uncontrollably flashed through his mind.

It seemed like a towering flame, or like plum blossoms falling from the sky, and a figure in red... But all of this was too fast, like sand slipping through his fingers. Just as he tried to grasp it, it vanished without a trace.

He subconsciously wanted to call out to System 003, a habit he had developed in previous mission worlds, where he would always ask his all-knowing partner the first thing he did when he encountered something he didn't understand.

But as soon as the thought crossed his mind, he pursed his lips and remembered that 003 in this world hadn't followed him.

He was all alone in this misty palace.

"A double?" An absurd thought suddenly popped into my head. But upon further reflection, it didn't seem right.

The person in the painting clearly resembles himself, although the temperament is quite different, the facial features and body shape are exactly the same.

How can someone find a body double who looks exactly like the person in real life? This is truly bizarre. What's wrong with Father Emperor?