The corner of Di Wu Ya’s mouth curved, an expression rising to his face that could make all living beings lose their composure.

His large palm moved up, gently rubbing the small head in his embrace. “What does wife wish, to make it up to your husband?”

Feng Jiu’er shook her head, trying to break free of the palm covering her head, her forehead rubbing back and forth against the man’s chest.

Di Wu Ya said nothing, but his expression grew increasingly pleased.

The small head struggled but couldn’t break free, and finally stilled.

“Whatever you want, I’ll go along with it!”

Feng Jiu’er kept her face buried against the man’s chest, her words not entirely clear.

She blinked, and hearing no response, tilted her head back and looked up.

“I’ve told you, I’m ready anytime. Why does Ninth Imperial Uncle keep hesitating?”

Feng Jiu’er thought of something, pouted, her face full of grievance.

“You said it yourself—if you weren’t so old-fashioned, our child would already be calling us mother and father.”

“In the end, we’re falling behind Qiaomu by so much—what a loss!”

“No loss at all!”

Di Wu Ya cupped the back of Feng Jiu’er’s head, leaned down, and placed a kiss on her pouting lips.

His slightly trembling thin lips left her rosy ones, and his gaze on her was more serious than ever before.

“Besides you, this prince wants no one else!”

Feng Jiu’er gazed into his deep eyes for a long moment, then furrowed her brow.

“Do you mean… you don’t want children at all, for either of us?”

“Mn.”

Di Wu Ya nodded without hesitation.

Feng Jiu’er’s frown deepened, one hand pushing against his chest.

Di Wu Ya’s arm curved, giving her no chance to pull away.

Feng Jiu’er looked at him, took a deep breath, and asked seriously, “Is it because of what happened to Qiaomu?”

“Is Ninth Imperial Uncle worried I’ll have a difficult labor and leave you, so you’d rather not have a child at all?”

Di Wu Ya closed his eyes and gently pulled Feng Jiu’er into his embrace.

He didn’t answer her question, but he had already given her the answer.

Feng Jiu’er pressed her thin lips together, feeling the intense love the man gave her, and her emotions gradually calmed.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, don’t worry. I won’t be willing to leave you.”

As for the matter of children, she’d let it happen naturally.

If she could bear one, she would.

Before Xiao Xiaojiang, Feng Jiu’er hadn’t even known that besides wanting to be a wife, she also wanted to be a mother.

Knock knock knock… Someone knocked on the side room’s door from outside.

Feng Jiu’er sat up straight and turned around.

“Come in.”

She tossed out those two words, then took hold of Di Wu Ya’s long arm and pulled away from his embrace.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, let’s eat first. I’ll take you somewhere nice afterward.”

“Alright.”

Di Wu Ya, as before, rubbed Feng Jiu’er’s head.

Even seated, the little girl was still far shorter than him.

Long Shi’er pushed the door open and walked in.

“Your Highness, Miss Jiu’er, these are some appetizers—please try them.”

He knelt before the low table, setting out the dishes from the tray one by one.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, I told you so.”

Without anyone noticing when, Feng Jiu’er already had a pair of chopsticks in hand.

“Long Shi’er is a genius in the culinary world. Even something as simple as peanuts, he can cook the soul into them.”

Feng Jiu’er picked up a peanut with her chopsticks, rose up on her knees, and brought it to Di Wu Ya’s lips.

“Ninth Imperial Uncle, try this.”

Long Shi’er glanced at the loving couple, lowered his head, took back the tray, and stood up.

“Miss Jiu’er, I’ll go prepare the rest now, please wait a moment.”

“Sure.”

Feng Jiu’er fed Di Wu Ya a peanut, then leaned over the low table herself and picked one up too.

“Delicious! The dishes Long Shi’er makes are even better than the best meal I ever had in Bei Mu.”