Accidentally Married the Princess [Time Travel] - Chapter 9

The summer breeze drifted in gently, and Gong Yu felt that this nap was incredibly comfortable.

When she woke up groggily, the light was bright before her eyes, and the beaded curtains swayed slightly. Sitting up, Gong Yu realized she was still in the waterside pavilion.

The sun had risen slightly, casting its rays diagonally into the pavilion. It wasn’t too hot at this moment rather, it was quite cool.

Dai Ru Yan sat at a low desk nearby, holding a brush as if writing something. Sensing Gong Yu’s gaze, she turned her head slightly and smiled. “It’s almost time for lunch. If you hadn’t woken up, I would have had to rouse you.”

Gong Yu, coming to her senses, stood up sheepishly and straightened her robes. “It’s not my fault. It’s just that your place is so cool and perfect for sleeping.”

“Oh, right, did I mention anything about Second Sister’s consort last night?”

Dai Ru Yan paused slightly. “What about Consort Song?”

Gong Yu fumbled clumsily before finally tightening her belt and draping on her outer robe. She walked closer and said, “Last night, I happened to see Consort Song being very affectionate with someone, hugging and kissing.”

“Is that all?” Dai Ru Yan’s brows relaxed slightly, and she said indifferently, “According to the laws of the palace, consorts are allowed to take concubines. Why are you so curious about this?”

Ah, I guess I’m just ignorant.

Gong Yu sat down properly, picking up a nearby handkerchief to wipe her face. “But would you, Ah-Yan, want to share someone you love with another person?”

Dai Ru Yan lifted her head slightly and replied, “For a woman of the Dai family, matters of love are but a fleeting dream. Why dwell on them?”

“Well, I don’t care. I just don’t like it.” Gong Yu stepped barefoot onto the cool mat-covered floor. After a quick wash, she lazily sat down nearby.

Water droplets trickled down her cheeks, dampening her loose strands of hair and soaking the collar of her outer robe. Her bright eyes gazed at Dai Ru Yan as she smiled sweetly and asked,

“Hey, Ah-Yan, tell me what kind of person do you like?”

“What are you up to?” Dai Ru Yan lowered her head slightly, looking at Gong Yu, who had sprawled out beside her without a care for her appearance. A hint of amusement flickered in her eyes. She really did resemble a little kitten.

Gong Yu blinked, nuzzling her head against Dai Ru Yan’s leg as she looked up at her. “I just want to hear. I won’t do anything else.”

Dai Ru Yan seemed lost in thought, even forgetting to put down the brush in her hand. The half-open curtains swayed gently, causing the strands of hair by her cheeks to flutter as well.

After waiting for a while without an answer, Gong Yu noticed Dai Ru Yan seemed to be in a daze. Just as she was about to call out to her, Dai Ru Yan suddenly looked at her intently and said softly,

“I’ve never thought about it, so I don’t know.”

Gong Yu’s cheeks warmed under her gaze, and she froze for a moment before replying, “It’s fine. There’s no rush now.”

Dai Ru Yan set down the brush and lowered her head. “No rush?”

“For women, marrying at fourteen is already common. If one remains unmarried by sixteen, people will start to gossip.”

“Let others gossip if they want. Are you, Ah-Yan, really in a hurry to get married?” Gong Yu blinked and asked.

“Of course, I’m not in a hurry.” Dai Ru Yan took a personal handkerchief and wiped away the water still dripping from Gong Yu’s face. “But I’ll have to wait for you, Little Nine, for two more years. By then, I might be old and faded, and you might dislike me.”

Gong Yu laughed and played along. “Ah-Yan, you’re so stunningly beautiful. Even at sixteen—no, even at twenty-six you’d still be gorgeous.”

Dai Ru Yan pinched Gong Yu’s little cheek with her fingers, a smile playing at the corners of her lips as she replied, “Such a smooth talker. In the future, you’re not allowed to sweet-talk other young girls, or else.”

“Or else what?” Gong Yu arched her brows mischievously, gazing at Dai Ru Yan with playful defiance.

“Then I’ll divorce you.” Dai Ru Yan withdrew her hand, helped Gong Yu sit up, and straightened her disheveled robes with a chuckle.

Gong Yu burst into laughter, her eyes never leaving Dai Ru Yan’s face as she clung to her shamelessly. “Ah-Yan, you’re so fierce,” she teased.

Dai Ru Yan sighed helplessly and lowered her voice. “The war will likely end soon.”

“Then we’ve won this battle?” Gong Yu straightened up, her earlier playfulness gone.

Dai Ru Yan shook her head. “The foreign tribes are skilled in warfare, especially in ambushes. After half a year of maneuvering, the war has drained most of the kingdom’s resources. Yesterday, the emperor was struck by an arrow on the battlefield and is now in critical condition.”

Hearing this, Gong Yu understood why Dai Ru Yan had said the war was nearing its end. With the emperor gravely ill, the conflict couldn’t drag on. Any misstep could trigger a power struggle.

Gong Yu said calmly, “Then this war will likely end in negotiations.”

“Yes.” Dai Ru Yan poured herself a cup of tea and took a sip. “News of the war’s conclusion should arrive soon.”

“But negotiations mean paying them off with silver. Doesn’t that mean all these months of fighting were for nothing?”

“War is like this. The royal family will insist on the foreign tribes withdrawing from our lands to preserve their dignity, while the tribes only care about gold and silver.”

Gong Yu sipped the bitter tea gloomily, her gaze lingering on Dai Ru Yan’s expression as she spoke. She was as composed as if discussing the taste of an ordinary cup of tea.

It was as if the gentle Dai Ru Yan and the cold, detached woman discussing the brutality of war were two entirely different people.

By the time of the Grain in Ear season, reports of victories from the distant battlefield arrived frequently. The capital was adorned with lanterns and banners, and everyone wore joyous smiles.

Yet Gong Yu remained secluded in her residence, buried in her studies day after day. As she grew taller, her clothes were replaced one set after another.

The steward watched his young mistress’s growth with delight, though he couldn’t help but notice she had lost her appetite for the sweet treats and yogurt she used to love.

In the waterside pavilion, Gong Yu practiced calligraphy, sheets of paper scattered across the cool mat. The shimmering reflections of the water made the pavilion bright and serene.

Sitting barefoot at the low table, Gong Yu was oblivious to the person approaching until she felt an itch on her neck. Scratching it brought no relief.

“If you keep scratching, it’ll turn red.”

Gong Yu turned her head slightly to see Dai Ru Yan walking toward her. “Why are you here?” she asked.

Dai Ru Yan sat beside her, her slender figure draped in a light blue robe that accentuated her fair, radiant skin. “Do you not want me here, Xiao Jiu?” she replied, holding a cup of tea.

“No.” Gong Yu glanced outside at the scorching sun and explained, “It’s just so hot out. Traveling must be inconvenient. Is something the matter, Ah-Yan?”

Dai Ru Yan set down the tea and produced a small porcelain jar. “I heard you’ve been holed up these past months, practicing archery and horseback riding, buried in your studies. You haven’t visited me, so I had to come find you.”

Gong Yu sat cross-legged, slightly embarrassed. “What’s this?”

“An ointment for itching.”

“For me?” Gong Yu asked, already rolling up her sleeve and leaning closer.

Dai Ru Yan smiled faintly, dipping her fingertips into the ointment. “You’re quite eager, aren’t you?”

Gong Yu only felt the ointment was slightly cool and very soothing. With her eyes curved into crescents, she said, “Although this waterside pavilion is quite cool, there are just too many mosquitoes.”

“Yet you still spend all day holed up in here,” Dai Ru Yan replied, her fingertips moving gently. Gong Yu was so comfortable she didn’t want to move, so she leaned to the side.

“I can’t help it. The weather is so hot. I wish I could cut my robes shorter to avoid feeling stifled.”

“Don’t. Though the days are hot, the nights are still a bit chilly. You’ll have to endure it.”

Once her arm was fully coated with the ointment, Gong Yu lay back comfortably, not wanting to move. Then she noticed Dai Ru Yan lightly tugging at her collar and whispering, “Let me see where you were scratching earlier.”

Gong Yu tilted her head slightly, exposing half her neck. Dai Ru Yan’s expression was serious as she reached out and gently touched the spot. “It’s quite swollen. You must have been scratching for a while.”

“It was unbearably itchy, and I couldn’t see it.”

The ointment indeed felt wonderful once applied. Gong Yu curled her lips and called out, “Ah-Yan…”

“Hmm?”

“If someone saw us like this, wouldn’t they misunderstand?”

Dai Ru Yan’s eyes flickered with confusion as she looked down at Gong Yu, whose robes were half undone, her bright eyes sparkling like stars. After a slight hesitation, she withdrew her hand and carefully adjusted Gong Yu’s collar, replying:

“If anyone saw, they wouldn’t live to tell of it.”

Gong Yu froze for a moment, realizing Dai Ru Yan’s words were no jest.

Dai Ru Yan straightened her back and glanced at the scattered papers nearby. Picking one up, she examined it closely and said, “Your handwriting is still a bit messy, but it’s much better than before.”

“I’ve been working hard on it.”

“The emperor will return to the capital in a few days, coinciding with the Zhongyuan Festival. The rituals will be complex, so you must be extra careful not to make any mistakes.” Dai Ru Yan paused before asking, “Are you afraid of staying alone in this residence?”

Gong Yu naturally paid little heed to superstitions about ghosts, but Dai Ru Yan’s thoughtful concern touched her.

“Of course not. I’m more than familiar with this residence.”

“Yesterday, I went to the temple to pray for this.” Dai Ru Yan pulled out something resembling a charm pouch from her sleeve and tied it to Gong Yu’s belt.

Gong Yu lowered her head and caught the faint fragrance from Dai Ru Yan, reminiscent of pear blossoms. The sight of those slender, pale fingers tying the ribbon, her gaze tender, made Gong Yu’s heart race uncontrollably. She turned her head away, nervously clutching the loose hem of her robe. “The weather is so hot, and the journey to the temple must have taken most of the day. You’ve gone to so much trouble for me, Ah-Yan.”

“It’s nothing. Just for peace of mind.”

The clear chirping of birds in the pavilion mingled with Gong Yu’s restless gaze as she cautiously glanced at Dai Ru Yan. Fingering the charm pouch, she asked softly, “Why are you so good to me?”

Dai Ru Yan seemed to recall something sorrowful and remained silent for a long while. Gong Yu quickly added, “I was just asking casually.”

“When I was young, I had a little sister. She was frail from birth and later passed away.”

Her words were light, her expression composed, but her eyes were filled with grief.

Gong Yu sat frozen, unsure how to respond, and whispered, “Don’t be sad. I didn’t mean to bring it up.”

“It’s fine. It was so long ago even my mother hardly remembers now.”

Dai Ru Yan naturally composed her emotions, quietly sipping her tea as if nothing had just happened.

As dusk approached, the sky was painted with dense hues of sunset, and even the air carried a scent reminiscent of scorched earth.

Occasional breezes still brought an oppressive warmth that was hard to bear. Gong Yu picked up a folding fan nearby and gently fanned herself, staying quietly by Dai Ru Yan’s side.

For the first time, Gong Yu felt at a loss for how to engage in lighthearted conversation with Dai Ru Yan because the sorrow brimming in Dai Ru Yan’s eyes made her own heart ache in sympathy.