Tie Ci, who was giving instructions to the palace guard commander nearby, turned back in astonishment.

She saw Murong Yi sprawled spread-eagle in the dust, and her father standing like a golden rooster on one leg atop the cart shaft, looking stunned with his foot raised high.

What had happened…

Why did she just turn around once, and the father-in-law and son-in-law who had been chatting and laughing moments ago suddenly erupted into violence?

What had Murong Yi done to offend her father? To make Father Emperor, accustomed to imperial dignity and bearing, so angry that he personally used his foot?

Tie Yan jumped down from the cart, dusted off his robe, and stared at Murong Yi who still hadn’t gotten up from the ground. From his expression, he seemed very much like he wanted to step on him.

However, he ultimately turned around and walked past Murong Yi’s side.

Tie Ci looked at her father’s furious retreating figure, then at Murong Yi sprawled on the ground, saying irritably: “Get up quickly!”

Murong Yi lifted his face.

Blood was streaming from his nose.

Tie Ci was startled and hurried over to help him up: “What happened? How did you suddenly get my father’s shadowless kick? What unconscionable thing did you do?”

Murong Yi lay in the dust, gazing at his father-in-law’s retreating figure, pondering slightly before saying gravely to Tie Ci: “I think the fact that I was slept with by you has probably been exposed.”

Not to boast, but he was so good at serving his father-in-law—aside from this, there absolutely wouldn’t be anything else that could anger his father-in-law!

Tie Ci: “…”

Too many points to complain about, she momentarily forgot to voice them.

Murong Yi lifted his flower-like face streaming with noseblood, grasping Tie Ci’s hand, saying weakly: “I defiled you, so being kicked by your father is deserved. That’s why I didn’t dodge. From now on, every time he sees me he can kick me, and I’ll take it all…”

Tie Ci forcefully shook off his paw, stood up, and shouted at her father’s retreating figure: “Dad, I was the one who did it first!”

“…”

Bang! Tie Yan, who was about to walk through the palace gates, crashed headfirst into the gate.

…

In the carriage returning to go shopping, Consort Jing occasionally lifted the curtain to look at Murong Yi’s silhouette outside, wanting to speak but hesitating.

Tie Ci, who had been resting with closed eyes, was finally annoyed by her hesitant manner and smiled: “If Mother Consort has something to say, please speak.”

Only then did Consort Jing whisper: “Your Highness, is your… Young Master Murong’s body somewhat weak?”

Tie Ci: “…??”

Murong Yi outside with his keen hearing: “…???”

“Why does Mother Consort say this?”

“…I heard this young master’s martial arts are quite formidable… but perhaps the rumors are mistaken? Otherwise, how could he be kicked off the cart by your father who doesn’t know martial arts?”

Tie Ci wanted to go with the flow and mock Murong Yi a bit, but thinking of Consort Jing’s pea-sized brain, she decided not to joke with her lest it cause trouble: “That’s not it. A Yi’s martial arts are naturally not weak. He just respects Father Emperor and didn’t dare to dodge.”

“That’s good.” Consort Jing breathed a sigh of relief, glancing outside and lowering her voice even more: “I mean… I was worried… whether you young people don’t know moderation in certain aspects… so you became weak… This actually isn’t a small matter. If there really is this trouble, I have here…”

Before she could finish speaking, outside the curtain, Murong Yi said to Zhao San who was following on horseback: “Zhao San, do you see that pigeon resting on the rooftop one street away?”

Zhao San said bewilderedly: “What? Where?”

“That one, gray with white tail feathers.”

“…I think I see it, but can’t make out the colors clearly.”

“That one. Do you believe I can knock it down into the oil pot under the eaves below?”

“This… Young Master, what are you trying to do?”

“…Good, knocked it down. Now go get that oil-fried pigeon for me to eat.”

Zhao San: “…”

Are you suffering from some serious illness?

“Zhao San, do you believe I can throw you into that oil pot too?”

“I believe! I believe! I’ll go right away!”

A moment later.

A commotion of chickens flying and dogs jumping.

Zhao San’s breathless voice sounded outside the carriage: “Young Master, the oil-fried pigeon is here!”

Accompanying this were pursuit sounds from behind, with a somewhat familiar old man’s voice shouting: “Chase them! Chase them! Which bastard shot my champion pigeon into the oil pot to fry!”

Zhao San: “…”

Tie Ci: “…”

Murong Yi acted as if he hadn’t heard, holding the oil-fried pigeon and seriously asking Zhao San: “How about that? This move—not weak, right?”

Zhao San: “…Not weak! Not weak! Young Master, what do we do about the owner chasing us?”

Tie Ci: “…”

Consort Jing: “…”

Those people had already chased close and blocked the carriage. The leader angrily shouted: “Stop! Compensate this marquis for his champion pigeon!”

Tie Ci lifted the carriage curtain, stuck her head out with a smile: “Marquis Duanyang, long time no see.”

Marquis Duanyang Feng Hong was startled and quickly bowed: “So it’s Your Highness the Crown Princess. I didn’t know Your Highness had returned to the capital. Disturbing Your Highness, this old minister is at fault.”

“Marquis Duanyang, no need for ceremony.” Tie Ci smiled: “We were the ones who disturbed the marquis’s residence first. We wouldn’t normally pass by the residence, but remembering Feng Huan mentioned wondering whether that golden silk maple in the residence had turned red, I thought to take a look for him and write to tell him about it.”

Indeed, once she mentioned Feng Huan, Marquis Duanyang forgot about the pigeon and hurriedly said: “May I ask Your Highness, why hasn’t my son returned yet? I haven’t heard of Your Highness assigning him duties in Yannan. He hasn’t been injured, has he?”

Tie Ci naturally knew the reason Feng Huan hadn’t returned—it seemed A’Ji of the Ba tribe was ill. The specific reason was something the Ba tribe was secretive about and unwilling to tell Tie Ci, and they held quite a grudge against Feng Huan. Feng Huan had originally left with the group, but ultimately said he couldn’t overcome his conscience and turned back.

Who knew what was going on between him and A’Ji, or how it would turn out. Tie Ci wanted to lay some groundwork for Feng Huan: “He was injured slightly before. You know Yannan has many poisonous creatures. Later he relied on help from a young lady of a local clan skilled in detoxification to recover. Now he’s recovered, but his life-saving benefactor has fallen ill, so Feng Huan is staying a few extra days. You needn’t worry.”

Only then did Marquis Duanyang breathe a sigh of relief: “That rascal—his letters home were vague and ambiguous, as if he never planned to return. He scared his mother into crying several times. So he’s actually lingering for some Yannan native woman! If she’s ill, what’s he staying there for? He doesn’t know medicine! I’ll write again to urge him! When he returns, I’ll see if I don’t break his legs!”

Tie Ci smiled: “Indeed, such lack of filial piety. He should be beaten. Since that’s so, I’ll serve as witness for you.”

Marquis Duanyang was rendered speechless by her response, coughing repeatedly and saying awkwardly: “I wouldn’t dare trouble Your Highness with that.”

Tie Ci said coolly: “Feng Huan knows how to repay kindness and doesn’t mind Yannan’s cold hardship for this. I greatly admire this. What, does the marquis seem not very pleased?”

Marquis Duanyang was alarmed.

Feng Huan had followed the Crown Princess on her Yannan tour and suffered plenty of hardships. He heard they had faced life and death several times. Though he felt sorry hearing this, he was also pleased—such shared life and death experiences with the Crown Princess were priceless dragon-following merit that couldn’t be bought with a thousand gold. From the Crown Princess’s tone, she was also planning to arrange things for Feng Huan. A wastrel playboy had finally used his life to earn good prospects—he mustn’t ruin it with one careless word.

He quickly bowed: “Your Highness speaks truly. Since he received life-saving grace, naturally he cannot just walk away. This old minister won’t urge him.”

Only then did Tie Ci smile and nod: “Someone beside me accidentally injured your pigeon. I’ll have someone compensate you with a few good pigeons later.”

Marquis Duanyang repeatedly said he didn’t dare. Seeing Tie Ci lower the curtain, he breathed a sigh of relief and stood by the roadside with his people to respectfully see off Tie Ci.

As Murong Yi passed by his side, he suddenly said: “Marquis, I was the one who shot the pigeon.”

Marquis Duanyang: “No matter, no matter. Consider it a gift to you, young master.”

“I shot it from here.” Murong Yi made a gesture of throwing a stone from a distance.

Marquis Duanyang: “…”

Why are you telling me this? You’re a pigeon-killing murderer—what do I care where you shot it from?

Such beauty, yet the brain doesn’t seem quite right.

Murong Yi: …Such an old age, yet the brain doesn’t seem quite right.

He gestured: “From here to there—far or not?”

“Mm, oh, far. Young master has extraordinary strength.”

“Then tell me, weak or not?”

Marquis Duanyang: “…Not weak, certainly not weak!”

Murong Yi smiled with satisfaction, bowed slightly to Marquis Duanyang, and gestured for him to proceed.

Marquis Duanyang watched him stride away carrying the oil-fried pigeon with a confused expression.

He turned to ask his advisor bewilderedly: “Who is this man? To be able to drive the Crown Princess’s carriage, his status should be that of a close minister?”

The advisor said: “Master, have you forgotten? This should be Murong Yi, the Liaodong prince, the Crown Princess’s legendary lover. You met him during the imperial hunt at the beginning of the year.”

The forgetful Marquis Duanyang remained silent for a long while.

“The Crown Princess is brilliant and mighty, but her taste in men is a bit poor.”

The advisor nodded in deep agreement.

“Who says it isn’t… big chest, no brains.”

…

The big-chested, brainless Murong Yi finally stopped his antics about being “weak or not.”

Because he was holding a still-bloody oil-fried pigeon to show to Your Majesty, Consort Jing was frightened. For the rest of the journey, she not only didn’t dare mention the word “weak” once, but kept subtly praising Murong Yi as strong and powerful, robust and sturdy, clearly a strong man at first glance.

Tie Ci looked at the “strong man” outside and thought that when he dressed as a woman, his chest was indeed quite robust.

However, Consort Jing’s emotions were quickly soothed. The clothing store not only had the most fashionable fabrics in the newest patterns and colors, but also distinctive garments from the West and imported from Gui Qizhai. From large fur cloaks to intimate undergarments, embroidery, tie-dye, beaded work, skirts, outer robes, formal wear, sleepwear… brilliant colors, lustrous pearls, refracting strange and varied light under luminous pearl lamps, like a beautiful dream that every woman would willingly sink into for life once she stepped foot inside.

Consort Jing held those fabrics, listening to Murong Yi’s personal and earnest introductions, picking up this piece reluctant to put down that one, like a hedgehog that had suddenly burst into a melon field.

When she really couldn’t hold anymore, Tie Ci, unable to watch any longer, silently took them over, and someone came with baskets to pack them.

The shop had ready-made clothes, so there were also dedicated fitting rooms with several female managers inside to serve. Consort Jing took a fancy to an outer robe adorned with golden sparrow feathers and glass beads, cut in a very distinctive and luxurious style. Murong Yi encouraged her to go try it on, saying the fitting room had full-length glass mirrors that could show Your Majesty’s beauty in perfect detail.

Murong Yi’s mouth was blessed—how could Consort Jing resist his persuasion? Unknowingly, she picked up her skirt and walked in. Several female managers followed before and after, serving her even more attentively than in the palace.

Tie Ci watched and rubbed her temples.

Our family’s Your Majesty has a heart wider than the Black Sea.

Walking down the street, a lollipop could probably get her kidnapped.

And she’d help count the money too.

Suddenly Murong Yi beckoned, and a female manager from the shop came over carrying an exquisite large box.

“What’s this?”

Murong Yi opened the box—inside was a set of women’s clothing. A snow satin long skirt with a light silver gauze outer layer, sleeves and collar decorated with some tiny gemstones. Not as flashy as Consort Jing’s piece, Tie Ci quite liked it at first glance.

Murong Yi leaned close to her ear: “Change into it for me to see.”

Tie Ci looked at him with an ambiguous smile: “What for? Sugar-coated cannonballs don’t work on me.”

“This isn’t to please you, this is to fulfill me.” Murong Yi winked at her: “I haven’t seen you in women’s clothing yet. A Ci, my dear A Ci, please.”

“Who says you haven’t seen me in women’s clothing? Didn’t you see me disguised as Chun Wa in Yannan?”

“That was also a disguise. But I want to see you wearing women’s clothing for yourself, wearing women’s clothing for me, dressing to please the one who appreciates you.”

Murong Yi personally lifted the curtain of another fitting room for Tie Ci, bowing with a smile and making an inviting gesture.

Tie Ci smiled, picked up the box, and entered the fitting room.