Sweetly Pampered After Marrying the Frail Prince to Ward Off Bad Luck - Chapter 7

Inside the study.

Ji Yanche, draped in a silver mink cloak, leaned against the arhat bed, his fingertips absentmindedly stroking a pair of interlocking Hetian jade rings. The bursting sparks from the charcoal brazier illuminated his facial features in shifting light and shadow.

Over the past month or so, with Meng Qing’s meticulous care, his physical condition had improved greatly. The frequency of his poison flare-ups had decreased more and more, and the morbid pallor of a dying man from the past had long since vanished. Now, he was preparing to begin taking over court affairs once again.

The aides sat around in a circle, orderly reporting on the important matters that had recently occurred in the imperial court.

“That person from Northern Xinjiang hunted a white wolf the day before yesterday and specially crafted a wolf-femur arrow quiver to present before the imperial throne.” Liu Wenyuan held a teacup, the curling wisps of rising steam blurring the mocking arc at the corner of his mouth. “Hmph, quite the ‘loyal’ gesture indeed.”

“He bears no good intentions in offering courtesy.” Ji Yanche’s expression remained calm. After listening, he merely instructed with detachment, “We must absolutely not lower our guard regarding Northern Xinjiang. Wenyuan, dispatch more personnel to closely monitor his every move.”

“Understood, Your Highness. Speaking of which, there is still an interesting anecdote.” As if remembering something, Liu Wenyuan’s mouth curled up slightly, a trace of playful mockery flashing in his eyes. “Five days ago, the Prime Minister, who has always kept his distance from beauties, actually stepped into a pleasure house to redeem a male courtesan. And that male courtesan happened to be the younger brother of the Prime Minister’s former classmate, Shiyan—namely, Shinian.”

“Shinian looks extremely similar to his older brother Shiyan, but unfortunately, he is simple-minded. On the very night this simple-minded person was redeemed by the Prime Minister, he accidentally tripped and bumped his head, and by the next day, he wasn’t foolish anymore.”

“He isn’t foolish anymore, oh?” Ji Yanche picked up the teacup that still retained some warmth, took a light sip, and a hint of intrigued amusement flickered across his expression. “That’s rather interesting.”

In the corner, the elderly man suddenly burst into a fit of coughing, his voice carrying a slight tremble as he spoke, “Your, Your Highness, this old man observed the celestial phenomena. Although the phenomenon of Mars lingering in the heart has been resolved, the star Aldebaran remains hidden among the cloud cover…” His withered hands clutched a book titled Essentials of Geomancy. “Your, Your Highness, this old man observed the celestial phenomena. Although the phenomenon of Mars lingering in the heart has already been resolved, the star Aldebaran is hidden within the cloud cover… In this old man’s view, the Jiangnan water transport is likely to suffer a freezing disaster in the twelfth lunar month.”

“Clatter”

The teacup descended heavily, tea splashing across the desk. Ji Yanche’s expression grew murky and obscure, cast within the shadows.

“What?! Entering the palace to have an audience with the Emperor?”

The brush in his hand dropped onto the floor with a clatter, splattering ink droplets that stained the hem of Meng Qing’s robe. But at this moment, he had no time to care at all, simply staring blankly at Ji Yanche before him with eyes full of astonishment and worry.

“But I, I’m not ready yet…”

Ji Yanche bent down to pick up the brush from the floor, then picked up a handkerchief and gently wiped the ink stains smeared on Meng Qing’s fingertips.

“Qingqing doesn’t need to worry. His Majesty simply wants to see you, and your husband will accompany you there.”

Despite having Ji Yanche by his side for company, Meng Qing still felt his legs turn weak with tension and his heart pound like a drum.

Feeling Meng Qing’s unease, Ji Yanche pinched his hand and coaxed him softly, “It’s fine. I am here.”

Upon entering the palace, everything unfolded just as Ji Yanche had said. Emperor Zhaoming merely asked Meng Qing a few simple questions before shifting his attention back to Ji Yanche. He affectionately urged Ji Yanche to drink his medicine and eat his meals on time, and to remember to add more layers of clothing when the weather turned cold. If not for the fact that Ji Yanche maintained a blank, cold expression throughout, only occasionally responding perfunctorily, Meng Qing almost would have taken this for a heartwarming scene of a loving father and a filial son.

“Wunjin.” The Emperor’s voice sounded somewhat aged, carrying a hint of expectation. “Come back once your health is restored.”

Emperor Zhaoming was well aware that his own capabilities were limited and that he could not govern this vast nation in an orderly fashion. But he had sired a fine son, and he believed that under Ji Yanche’s governance, the Chengji Dynasty would surely march toward a glorious and prosperous age.

On the way back to the manor, Meng Qing looked at Ji Yanche’s slightly fatigued face and hesitated to speak several times.

Sensing Meng Qing’s puzzlement, Ji Yanche sighed, pulled him into his embrace, and gently pinched his earlobe.

“Is Qingqing wondering why your husband holds such an attitude toward His Majesty?”

Hm?

Although Meng Qing felt curious inside, he had never thought of prying into Ji Yanche’s past. Everyone had their own wounds and secrets, and he respected Ji Yanche’s privacy; if Ji Yanche didn’t want to talk about it, he would never force the issue.

What he actually wanted to ask was:

“Your Highness, working this hard… aren’t you very tired?”

Toiling day and night for the country and the people, exhausting all your energy, even while stricken with a grave illness, without ever showing the slightest slack.

Seeming not to expect Meng Qing to say this, Ji Yanche paused for a moment before moving; he pulled Meng Qing even tighter into his arms and chuckled in a low voice.

How could his Qingqing always be so considerate and heart-meltingly adorable?

“With Qingqing around, your husband doesn’t feel tired at all.”

The carriage came to a halt. Ji Yanche straightened Meng Qing’s robes and smiled, saying, “Didn’t my wife want to visit the night market all this time? Let’s go.”

“Sweet-scented osmanthus brewed wine, delicious sweet-scented osmanthus brewed wine—”

“Candied haws, honored guest, care to try one?”

The lights of Vermilion Bird Avenue had just spilled over the flying eaves. Street vendors were endless, and their cries rose and fell in a bustling, lively chorus.

“Your Highness, look at that revolving lamp!” Meng Qing pointed excitedly toward the shop at the bridgehead, a brilliant sparkle in his eyes. Inside the glazed lantern shade, silhouettes of the triumphant Northern Expeditionary army flickered in the candlelight, casting dancing spots of light across the corners of his eyes and adding a touch of vitality and allure that made it impossible to look away.

Smiling, Ji Yanche stuffed a paper bag of roasted chestnuts into his palm, the paper bag still radiating the remaining warmth of the stove. “Once we’re out of the Prince’s Manor, what should Qingqing call me?”

“Um, Husband?” Meng Qing blinked his eyes, his voice as sweet and cloying as honey.

Hearing this soft and tender address, Ji Yanche’s smile deepened. “Such a good boy.”

When the river breeze carried over the sound of a pipa, Meng Qing was biting open his fifth chestnut. The crimson gauze lantern hanging from the bow of the covered boat rocked gently back and forth, floating amidst the ink characters “Zuiyue Boat” on the lamp’s shade.

“Wow, this wine boat looks so interesting. Let’s go take a look.” Meng Qing tugged at Ji Yanche’s sleeve, eagerly pulling him toward the side of the boat.

A boatwoman nimbly lifted the curtain and stepped out, her pomegranate-red skirt brushing lightly against the deck as a gentle, warm smile graced her face.

“Are the honored guests here to drink? Please come inside.”

Ji Yanche gently slipped a sycee of fine silver into the boatwoman’s palm. Understanding immediately, she guided them straight to the spot at the bow with the widest field of vision.

Meng Qing ordered a pot of distilled liquor, a pot of sweet osmanthus wine, and a pot of pear blossom wine, only to see Ji Yanche looking at him with smiling eyes. “I never knew Qingqing had such a great capacity for alcohol.”

“I can’t drink it all myself; I have my husband to help me drink it,” Meng Qing coquettishly hooked his finger through Ji Yanche’s and acted spoiled.

Ji Yanche could do nothing against him. What else could he do with his own wife? Naturally, he had to pamper him.

As the liquor slid down his throat, the painted boat slowly passed through the arched bridge.

Meng Qing had a poor tolerance for alcohol. After two cups of distilled liquor, he felt dizzy and his vision grew hazy. He picked up his cup and handed it to Ji Yanche. “Husband, you drink too.”

Ji Yanche took the cup and downed it in a single gulp, then stepped forward to gently support Meng Qing’s waist, securely pulling him into his embrace.

He had never seen Meng Qing intoxicated like this before.

The moonlight, like flowing water, cascaded down the robes that had slipped open on Meng Qing, spilling over his fair neck and illuminating the slight tremor of his throat with striking clarity. The flushed corners of Meng Qing’s lips were stained with the moisture of wine, and his gaze was sultry and burning.

“Husband.”

“Mhm.”

Meeting that scorching gaze, Ji Yanche’s throat bobbed as he poured himself another cup of wine and drank it down.

“Husband.”

“Your husband is right here.”

Meng Qing called out several more times, and Ji Yanche answered every single one without the slightest hint of impatience.

“Qingqing is drunk.” Cupping Meng Qing’s face, Ji Yanche looked at him with a smiling expression, his gaze as gentle as water, soft enough to drown someone.

Meng Qing tilted his head to rub against his palm, murmuring softly, “Husband treats me so well.” With that, he raised his head again, pressing his body forward and brushing his fingertips across Ji Yanche’s Adam’s apple.

“Husband, want kisses.”

He exuded a faint jasmine fragrance mixed with the pine-smoke bitterness of the distilled liquor on his lips, intertwining into a unique scent that actually made Ji Yanche somewhat intoxicated by it as well.

Ji Yanche slowly cupped the back of Meng Qing’s neck and leaned down to kiss him.

His kiss was tender and lingering, as if wanting to savor him thoroughly, one gentle press after another, delicate and deeply affectionate. Feeling the person in his arms grow gradually weak and unable to sit straight anymore, Ji Yanche lifted him onto his lap, tightly interlocking his fingers with his, and continued to lose himself in this sweet kiss.

The kiss felt so wonderful that Meng Qing melted all over, his body relaxing completely as he closed his eyes and surrendered in his embrace. It wasn’t until Ji Yanche gently reminded him to catch his breath that he finally regained a trace of his wits.

After catching his breath, Meng Qing eagerly raised his head again, his face flushed red as he declared:

“Mm, want more.”