Accidentally Married the Princess [Time Travel] - Chapter 16

Dai Ru Yan looked like a peach blossom fairy, and Gong Yu blinked as she gazed at her, inexplicably breaking into a silly smile.

The peach blossoms by the courtyard were in full bloom, and a gentle breeze drifted by. Dai Ru Yan reached up to tuck a stray lock of hair behind her ear and said, “The weather is so lovely today.”

“Ah-Yan, want to come up and lie down for a while?” Gong Yu scooted over slightly, tugging at her loose robe to make room, then added playfully, “It’s really comfortable here.”

Dai Ru Yan hesitated for a moment before lying down beside her, fully clothed. Gong Yu lay on her side, her gaze lingering on Dai Ru Yan’s fair, moon-like skin exposed to the air.

“Is this the copy of the palace laws I had someone send you?” Dai Ru Yan casually picked up a sheet of paper beside her and asked.

Gong Yu inched closer and replied, “Mhm.”

“Why didn’t you give it to the Grand Tutor? Why keep it here in the estate?”

“I’ve already copied enough myself. There’s no need for Ah-Yan’s copy to go to the Grand Tutor too.”

Dai Ru Yan paused slightly. “Then wasn’t my effort wasted?”

Gong Yu propped herself up and said, “Not at all. I’ve kept all of Ah-Yan’s copies here.”

“Kept them?”

“What for?” Dai Ru Yan tilted her head slightly, causing the hair pressed against her cheek to slip aside.

The two were very close now, and Gong Yu, lacking composure, retreated a little. “These are Ah-Yan’s calligraphy treasures.”

“So…?”

Dai Ru Yan’s eyes flickered with confusion.

“Who knows? One day, Ah-Yan might become a literary master, and these would be priceless relics.” Gong Yu grinned mischievously.

Dai Ru Yan laughed as well, lightly pinching Gong Yu’s nose before turning her gaze to the peach blossoms overhead and murmuring, “The peach blossoms in this courtyard are so beautiful.”

“Mhm, I’ve been staying here all day waiting for the fruit to ripen.”

Gong Yu lay on her back, resisting the urge to let her eyes wander, and simply admired the crimson blossoms.

“You—always so unserious.”

Gong Yu chuckled without a word, staring at the azure sky as if breathing in the faint fragrance of peach blossoms in the air.

The drowsiness from earlier seemed to return, and Gong Yu’s eyelids grew heavy. She vaguely heard Dai Ru Yan say something, but the words were indistinct.

When she woke again, it was nearly dusk. The world was bathed in a warm, orange glow.

Dai Ru Yan lay quietly beside her, resting on her side. Gong Yu stared blankly, her heart pounding so loudly she could almost hear it.

A thin blanket had been draped over her. Gong Yu carefully lifted it and placed it over Dai Ru Yan instead, then sat cross-legged beside her, unable to tear her gaze away.

The courtyard was silent, even the wind had stilled. Not wanting to disturb Dai Ru Yan, Gong Yu cautiously gathered her robes and slipped off the platform.

She busied herself with neatly storing the papers into a chest, her bare feet stepping on the warm stone tiles as if soaking in a hot spring.

After a while, she finally packed all the papers away. The handwriting on them was strikingly similar to Gong Yu’s—so much so that even she found it indistinguishable. Clearly, Dai Ru Yan had painstakingly practiced mimicking her script.

Unnoticed, the surroundings had darkened. Gong Yu closed the chest and turned to wake Dai Ru Yan.

But Dai Ru Yan was already awake, seemingly lost in thought. Gong Yu quickened her steps to approach.

Dai Ru Yan turned her head slightly to look at her, her eyes vacant, staring at Gong Yu like a lifeless puppet.

“Ah-Yan?” Gong Yu called out worriedly as she drew near.

Dai Ru Yan blinked her eyes and softly asked, “What time is it now?”

“Probably around dusk.”

“That means I’ve slept quite a while.” Dai Ru Yan lightly rubbed her temples with her fingertips, the earlier dazed expression seeming to have lasted only a fleeting moment.

Gong Yu relaxed and didn’t dwell on it, sitting beside her and asking, “Are you free today?”

“Mmm, I originally just wanted to discuss the upcoming hunting trip with you, but I didn’t expect you to doze off so deeply.” Dai Ru Yan turned her head to look at Gong Yu with a smile. “For some reason, I ended up falling asleep with you.”

Perhaps because she had just woken up, Dai Ru Yan’s cheeks were flushed, her expression slightly weary. Her delicate eyelashes fluttered like wings a few times, and Gong Yu’s gaze involuntarily lingered on her flawless, delicate skin before guiltily looking away.

Gong Yu felt her palms sweating. Why was she so flustered around another girl?

“Xiao Jiu…”

“Hmm?” Gong Yu turned her head to respond, though her eyes still couldn’t quite meet Dai Ru Yan’s.

Dai Ru Yan straightened her back, speaking like a stern elder: “In recent years, every prince born in the imperial palace has, without exception, succumbed to illness.”

“Only… princes?” Gong Yu asked warily.

“Yes. Someone is clearing obstacles for the next emperor.”

“Who is it?”

Dai Ru Yan shook her head. “Perhaps it’s not just one person, but different factions acting simultaneously.”

“Though the hunt is an annual event for the imperial family, there’s no guarantee someone won’t take advantage of the opportunity to strike. So, you must be careful.”

Gong Yu frowned tightly. “Why must they be so ruthless?”

“Because this isn’t just a competition among imperial family members—it’s a struggle for the highest power in the entire palace.” Dai Ru Yan hesitated slightly before adding, “Xiao Jiu, do you know the late emperor once had nineteen sons? Yet now, only His Majesty and a single Prince Rong remain.”

“Now you understand just how perilous this power struggle is.”

The evening breeze was cool, and Gong Yu shivered slightly, nodding as she gazed at Dai Ru Yan, who spoke so calmly.

It seemed as though treating such schemes and intrigues as commonplace was Dai Ru Yan’s most ordinary attitude.

Three days later, the imperial family set out from the capital in a grand procession, accompanied by hundreds of officials.

Dai Ru Yan did not join them this time, leaving Gong Yu to ride her horse idly among the ranks.

Mid-March was the season when peach blossoms bloomed everywhere. Though the spring scenery was beautiful, Gong Yu couldn’t muster any enthusiasm, still preoccupied by Dai Ru Yan’s words from that day.

As dusk approached, the procession finally halted. Soldiers busied themselves setting up camp, and Gong Yu, after drinking a few sips of hot tea, lay down and fell asleep.

Unexpectedly, a commotion broke out in the middle of the night. Gong Yu emerged from her tent and asked the guards on duty, “What’s all this noise about?”

“Ninth Highness, th-there’s a fire,” the soldier stammered nervously.

“A fire? Which tent is burning?”

“It seems to be the storage tent for the horses’ feed.”

The fire was extinguished by the early hours of the morning and didn’t disturb the emperor. However, Gong Yu’s tent was close to the site, making the incident particularly noticeable to her.

At dawn the next day, Gong Yu yawned and changed out of her loose robes into something lighter and more practical.

Mounted on her red pony and armed with a bow, Gong Yu weaved through the waist-high dry grass, her guards following closely.

The sun had yet to rise when the sound of arrows whizzing through the air was heard. Not far away, someone exclaimed, “Fourth Highness truly possesses divine skill. Every shot hits its mark!”

“Haha, my archery skills are unmatched in the world.”

Even from such a distance, Gong Yu could vividly imagine the Fourth Prince’s face trembling with laughter.

She couldn’t help but shiver slightly. Drawing an arrow from her quiver, Gong Yu scanned for a suitable target, recalling her promise to Dai Ru Yan to catch a little rabbit.

After circling around for what felt like ages, Gong Yu was about to give up when she suddenly heard faint rustling in the grass.

Raising her arrow, she whispered, “If it’s a rabbit, spread out and make sure it doesn’t escape.”

“Yes,” the guards replied, dismounting and fanning out.

Holding her breath, Gong Yu released the arrow. Sure enough, a small white rabbit bolted from the grass in fright.

Catching it alive was far more challenging than killing it.

Beads of sweat formed on Gong Yu’s forehead as she worried about accidentally harming the little creature, which would render all her efforts futile.

Fortunately, just as a cornered dog will leap over a wall, the terrified rabbit, dodging Gong Yu’s successive arrows, was finally caught by a guard who had been lying in wait.

“We’ve got it, Your Highness!”

Delighted, Gong Yu dismounted and gently stroked the rabbit. “Take good care of it,” she said with a smile. “Don’t let it lose weight.”

The guard, bewildered, could only nod. “Yes.”

Remounting her horse, Gong Yu finally felt a spark of enthusiasm and urged her steed into a gallop, leaving her guards slightly behind.

The sun peeked out from behind thick clouds as Gong Yu, arrow at the ready, searched for another target.

Suddenly, the Third Prince’s voice rang out nearby: “Don’t let her escape!”

At first, Gong Yu assumed he was chasing some rare game. But then, a figure darted through the withered grass—swift, yet unmistakably human.

Startled, Gong Yu watched as the figure ran toward her, pursued by the Third Prince on horseback.

“Quick, over here!” Gong Yu maneuvered her horse to shield the person hiding in the grass, then turned to the approaching Third Prince. “Third Brother, what brings you here?”

The Third Prince scanned the area. “I just spotted a fox and gave chase.”

“A fox?” Gong Yu feigned curiosity. “I’ve never seen a live fox in these mountains. Was it red or white?”

“I didn’t get a clear look,” the Third Prince replied impatiently before riding off.

Gong Yu exhaled in relief and dismounted. Peering at the figure in the grass, she whispered, “Don’t be afraid. This is the royal hunting grounds. If you wandered in by mistake, I can get you out safely.”

Truthfully, Gong Yu was more afraid the stranger might suddenly lunge at her with a knife. After all, in this place, she had grown accustomed to suspecting treachery everywhere.

The figure crawled out of the grass but remained silent. Their clothes were stained with blood, and a faint plea escaped their lips: “Save me…”

A girl?

Gong Yu had her guards discreetly escort the girl back to her tent while she pretended to return from the hunt.

However, her empty-handed return was glaringly obvious. The Third and Fourth Princes had bountiful hauls, and even the Sixth Prince had bagged a deer.

“Little Ninth, your archery has improved so much this year. How come you didn’t catch a single thing today?” The Third Prince’s eyes gleamed with mockery.

Gong Yu smiled shyly and said, “Just now, I heard Third Imperial Brother mention a fox, and my mind became completely preoccupied with finding it. But in the end, I couldn’t locate it, so I didn’t catch any game.”

The gazes of the crowd shifted toward the Third Prince. Gong Yu suppressed a laugh, thinking to herself that the fox had been entirely fabricated by the Third Prince. Now he would have to explain his own lie.

The Third Prince hesitated before saying, “Actually, I didn’t get a clear look either.”

The Emperor seated above chuckled and said, “It’s just our mischievous Ninth Princess playing tricks. I never ordered any foxes to be released in this hunting ground.”

Only then did the curious glances from the crowd subside. Gong Yu smiled faintly, privately musing that the Third Prince’s concealment of that girl’s matter must indeed be hiding something.