Sickly Bigshot CH 23 Birthday
Translated by The BL Muse (ko-fi)
After countless demonstrations and corrections from the bakery ladies, Shi Zhou—now self-proclaimed Master Pastry Chef—finally managed to independently produce something that vaguely resembled a cake.
It was a two-tiered cake that had been painstakingly assembled, with simple (and slightly rough) frosting edges. It was... not very round.
Shi Zhou sighed. "Should I just buy one instead? This is too ugly to give to anyone!"
The bakery owner—a devoted shipper of the ChengZhou pairing—had long assumed the cake was for Qin Yancheng even if she had never asked.
She grinned, "This is priceless! Zhouzhou personally made it after all! Most people never get to taste a cake made by their lover who spent a whole week learning just for them, filled with love!"
Shi Zhou immediately shook his head. "It's not for a lover!"
The owner just smiled knowingly, as if he were being shy or secretive. She then pulled out a tiny, adorable Q-version doll that looked unmistakably like Qin Yancheng—cold and aloof even in cute form—perfect for cake toppers.
She had made a matching one of Shi Zhou too—long hair, high ponytail, and all. Supporting her OTP in person was bliss.
"Teacher Zhouzhou, after eating the cake, just wash off the frosting and keep these as keychains—a couple set!"
With time running short, Shi Zhou carefully took the cake out of the fridge, arranging the decorations, ribbons, and even a Bluetooth speaker set to play Happy Birthday.
Qin Yancheng went about his day as usual, and Shi Zhou suspected that he didn't even remember his own birthday.
At least Shi Zhou didn’t have to worry about him skipping dinner because if he had work engagements, he’d call to let Shi Zhou know.
...Wait, why did that sound so couple-like?
The minute hand crept forward.
Shi Zhou spotted Qin Yancheng’s car pulling into the garage.
Not wanting to overwhelm him, Shi Zhou had already dismissed the staff, leaving only Aunt Zhang—who wisely made herself scarce.
Qin Yancheng opened the door—
And was greeted by a riot of colorful streamers and balloons, some smiling, others bearing wishes like "Long Life and Prosperity."
Before he could react, a shower of confetti exploded into the air!
The birthday song immediately began playing cheerfully as Shi Zhou leapt out from behind the door, shouting—
"QIN YANCHENG! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"
For once, Qin Yancheng’s expression went completely blank. Confetti dusted his hair and shoulders as he stood frozen.
Even when Shi Zhou reached up to brush the bits off his head, he didn’t react, his face gradually twisting into something complicated—almost dangerous.
He indeed hadn’t expected such a surprise.
Not even the cake rumors during the past couple of days regarding himself and Shi Zhou had tipped him off. He only thought Shi Zhou just happened to be learning to bake cake at this time.
—Qin Yancheng never celebrated his birthday.
Or rather, he loathed the very idea. Not because he found it boring, as others assumed, but because too many unbearable memories were tangled up in that date. Such that he subconsciously avoided and forgot his own birthday.
The cheerful birthday music grated against his nerves, his self-control fraying at the edges. This kind of fraying had actually always been occurring silently, it was just that his logic and control had the upper hand when he was sober, allowing him to appear as a normal person.
But now, rage and madness, usually locked away, surged violently. He wanted to smash everything—to—
No. That would scare Shi Zhou. That would make Shi Zhou angry.
This was all Shi Zhou’s effort—the decorations, the cake, clearly handmade and lopsided.
Qin Yancheng bit down hard on his tongue, the taste of blood sharpening his focus. It reminded him to maintain his mask of calmness.
He closed his eyes, lips pressed tightly together.
Shi Zhou tilted his head. "What’s wrong? Feeling sick?"
Qin Yancheng looked pale, his whole body tense as if he was suppressing or enduring something. He neither appeared to be moved nor startled by the surprise but rather—self-loathing?
"Hey! Qin Yancheng, what’s up with you?"
"...I don’t celebrate my birthday," Ain Yancheng admitted quietly.
Shi Zhou grinned and slapped his own chest. "No problem! You’ll get used to it! Next year, I’ll make you an even bigger and better cake!"
Qin Yancheng sat down, his control gaining the upper hand, his rigid posture easing slightly. He eyed the lopsided cake and a faint smile tugged at his lips.
Though the sight was breathtaking, Shi Zhou just wanted to muffle him. "Stop laughing! It’s not that ugly! I just threw it together—you’re my taste tester, got it?"
"You will eat my cake, no complaints!"
Qin Yancheng’s smile deepened. He hadn’t expected Shi Zhou to specially learn baking for him. A trace of warmth and sweetness suffused his heart.
He knew Shi Zhou was lazy and not very good with his hands, in addition to impatient and not one for artistic pursuits. But the bad tempered little fox was so thoughtful, placing such importance on a date he himself avoided like the plague—putting effort into the decorations and even personally baking a cake.
Qin Yancheng lowered his eyes. "Thank you, Shi Zhou."
Maybe this was a start—a step away from the shadows of the past that still imprisoned him.
The table was laden with dishes prepared by a Michelin-starred chef, complete with elegant candlesticks. Shi Zhou scratched his head sheepishly.
"Don’t thank me! I told you, you’re just my guinea pig! Now light the candles and make a wish!"
The lights dimmed, leaving only the flickering candlelight—warm, alive, like a lifeline in the dark. Injecting color into his dark and lifeless world, causing warmth to run through his veins.
Qin Yancheng quietly watched Shi Zhou’s face glow in the soft light, his eyes which always resembled a sea of stars reflecting the flames as he grinned. "Make a wish!"
"I’ll make one too—Qin Yancheng, I hope you stay healthy, live a long life, and find happiness every day."
Unlike pretty but hollow toasts, Shi Zhou’s words were earnest, almost solemn.
—Qin Yancheng, I hope you defy fate, rewrite the ending, and live on.
His gaze burned with hope.
Qin Yancheng’s fingers resting in the table twitched imperceptibly. He looked away, heartbeat unsteady and fast but his face carefully blank.
Shi Zhou began to sing Happy Birthday. Qin Yancheng blew out the candles, silently making a wish.
As the lights returned, Shi Zhou removed the two unmistakable topper dolls, snapping a photo of the now-plain cake to infuriate the antis.
After washing off the frosting, he pocketed his own doll keychain—regardless of what Qin Yancheng did with his. In any case, he was keeping his doll for a keychain.
Qin Yancheng watched Shi Zhou attach the keychain, then calmly took the grinning, ponytailed Shi Zhou doll.
"Hey! That’s mine!"
Qin Yancheng arched a brow. "Isn’t this for me?"
Shi Zhou paused. The bakery owner had said “chibi Zhouzhou is for President Qin~”—but he’d never admitted who the cake was for, let alone agreed to swap!
Qin Yancheng had already pocketed it, expression unchanging.
Resigned, Shi Zhou kept the chibi Qin Yancheng, grumbling internally—Who wants your icy chibi-version anyway? So ugly!
Cutting into his labor of love, Shi Zhou’s mind wandered back to Runaway Airship’s masterpiece and what would follow after—
After eating the aphrodisiac-laced cake, they’d share wine, then—passion! A shared bath that included some underwater adventures, then back to land for more—
But reality intruded as he took a bite of his own cake—
Holy shit, this is terrible.
Dry, dense, scratchy, and cloyingly sweet—like he’d murdered a sugar merchant and dumped the entire stock into the batter.
Yet Qin Yancheng ate it without complaint, calm and composed. Definitely an excellent eater.
Shi Zhou coughed, embarrassed. "Uh... You don’t have to finish it, just a taste is enough. Let’s just eat the real food."
With Qin Yancheng’s stomach issues, this abomination might actually kill him. Even Shi Zhou himself was unwilling to eat a second bite, it was that awful.
But Qin Yancheng kept eating, as if determined not to waste Shi Zhou’s "masterpiece."
At this time the doorbell rang. Not long later, Aunt Zhang returned with a box of cake and confusion on her face. "Mr. Qin, there was no one at the gate—just this cake with a card—"
Qin Yancheng took the card—and his expression changed drastically, practically icing over.
"Throw it away."
He even got up to wash his hands immediately, as if the card were contaminated, ordering Aunt Zhang to do the same.
Shi Zhou blinked in bewilderment. Qin Yancheng's reaction was way too extreme. Just how much must he hate that person? He's never been the melodramatic or exaggerated type—this was really out of character.
The cake looked exquisitely crafted, with Oreo crumbs coating the sides of the creamy white mousse, a starry mirror glaze on top, and a sweet chocolate cake base at the bottom.
Ever since learning how to make cakes himself, Shi Zhou had developed an appreciation for such skilled craftsmanship. He couldn't help but marvel, "This must be from a professional bakery, right? It's so beautiful—must've been complicated to make... Hey, Qin Yancheng, don't throw it away! It's such a waste—at least try a bite?"
Qin Yancheng's expression remained icy, his jaw tense. After a moment, he said coldly, "No. Aunt Zhang, throw it out."
Shi Zhou protested, "Then I'll have some."
His own cake was practically inedible—so awful that while he felt slightly ashamed comparing it to this masterpiece, he was mostly just... craving.
"If you want cake, I'll buy you one. Don't eat her creations," Qin Yancheng said firmly. He knew this wasn't store-bought.
Zeng Yan had made the exact same cake again.
Four years ago, on this very day, there had been an identical cake. Perhaps clinging to the last shreds of warmth in his memories and his innate longing for maternal love, Qin Yancheng had truly believed she could change—that she genuinely regretted her past atrocities.
But the price of that misjudgment had nearly been his life.
Aunt Zhang had no choice but to dispose of the cake. Shi Zhou harrumphed but ultimately let it go, switching back to his main account to troll the antis.
The birthday celebration had been nearly perfect—except for the fact that, in the middle of the night, Shi Zhou groggily heard Qin Yancheng apparently suffering from food poisoning courtesy of his "love-filled" cake, getting up to search for stomach medicine.
Everything else had gone smoothly—but who could've predicted that the very next morning, Shi Zhou would once again become the internet's favorite punching bag?
Some shameless paparazzo had apparently staked out Qin Yancheng's house on his birthday and captured the entire scene of Aunt Zhang tossing out the "mystery cake."
[Look at this clown still bragging about his cake on Weibo when President Qin's housekeeper threw it in the trash!]
[LMAOOO I've never seen someone get humiliated this fast—hahahaha so embarrassing, this is hilarious!]
[That cake is so ugly even dogs wouldn't eat it! And he actually thought he could seduce our President Qin with that? *vomits*]
[Not just ugly—it looks disgusting. A dog would puke if it ate that! Poor doggos don't deserve this!]
[I'm wheezing—this just gets funnier the more you look at it, especially comparing Shi Zhou's Weibo post with the pics of the cake in the trash. I'll be laughing about this for a year.]
[@Shi Zhou, how's that face slap feel? So embarrassing—you deserve it!]
Shi Zhou just wanted to roll his eyes so hard they’d get stuck. Why are you all so obsessed with seeing me humiliated? Go dig through the trash yourselves—if I could make cakes that pretty, I'd have switched careers to baking already!
Oh please—your so-called "dog food cake" was devoured by your precious idol!
But no matter what he thought, the reality was that netizens were already gleefully circulating side-by-side comparisons of his Weibo post and the photos of the discarded cake, mocking him relentlessly. And there wasn't much he could do about it.
He'd genuinely just wanted to make a cake for Qin Yancheng's birthday—not for clout, and certainly not to keep milking their ship for attention.
He'd never even publicly stated the cake was for Qin Yancheng in the first place, so now he had no choice but to endure the humiliation silently.
Shi Zhou rarely swallowed his pride, but as he irritably scrolled through the torrent of ridicule, trying to figure out how to clap back at these idiots more subtly—
Qin Yancheng stunned everyone yet again by suddenly posting on Weibo:
A simple caption—[Very sweet cake.]—accompanied by a photo.
But this picture was slightly different from the one Shi Zhou had posted—
Because clearly visible on the cake were those two unmistakably matching chibi-version dolls!
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AN: Netizens: Being Shi Zhou's anti is just asking for repeated face-slaps—it never ends well.