Over a dozen elegantly dressed noble ladies were sitting or standing in the garden, chattering away about various topics and occasionally bursting into delicate laughter. At the center of the group sat Fu Yixiao, barely maintaining a polite smile.
The downfall of the Yu clan had frightened various ambitious factions. As news spread of the close friendship between Marquis Jianxin Ye Duanfang and the Regent Prince Feng Suige, Fu Yixiao’s name began appearing more frequently on the lips of the capital’s nobility. Even the usually politically insensitive Susha noble ladies were now constantly flocking to the Prince’s mansion.
“Indeed, indeed, the Prince’s consort is both beautiful and capable,” one noble lady said in a coquettish tone. Fu Yixiao inwardly rolled her eyes once again, brushing off a delicate white hand that had been placed affectionately on her shoulder. She stood up and said, “Please continue enjoying yourselves. The Prince will be back soon, so I’ll go to welcome him.”
“Oh my!” exclaimed a slightly plump noble lady dramatically. “The Prince and his consort truly have an impeccable relationship!” As soon as she finished speaking, a chorus of insincere agreements arose.
Yixiao strode away from the chattering women, ignoring them completely. She decided to take a detour back to her chambers to catch up on some sleep and relax her face, which had grown stiff and sore from maintaining a smile for so long.
As she passed by the laundry room, the sound of clothes being beaten with wooden paddles mingled with hushed discussions that drifted to her ears. “…If the rumors are true, doesn’t that mean the Junior Consort won’t become Queen?” “I’d rather have the Junior Consort as Queen. Have you seen those noble ladies who’ve been coming these past few days? Every single one of them looks down their noses at us…”
Yixiao paused for a moment in front of the laundry room door before continuing towards her chambers.
Half-asleep, she felt a warm finger gently tracing her lips. Yixiao’s lips parted, and she bit down on the finger. Feng Suige was startled and quickly withdrew his hand. Seeing her open her eyes with a hint of a smile, he laughed, “Truly, a woman’s heart is most poisonous. If I hadn’t dodged, you would have bitten my finger clean off.”
Yixiao lazily rolled over, saying, “Then you might as well divorce me and marry someone else.” Feng Suige chuckled awkwardly, kicked off his shoes, and climbed onto the bed. He extended his finger to her mouth, coaxing softly, “I admit I misspoke. Here, bite it as many times as you’d like.”
Pushing away his hand, Yixiao moved to the side, leaving half the bed empty. She closed her eyes again. Just as Feng Suige thought she had fallen asleep, Yixiao suddenly asked, “Are you planning to take a new consort?”
Feng Suige’s breath caught for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure. He asked with a smile, “Don’t let your imagination run wild—where did you hear such rumors?” Yixiao remained silent for a while, then opened her eyes and looked at him steadily. “I trust you. But if such a thing were to happen, I don’t want to be the last to know.”
Feng Suige nodded, “Don’t worry, in my heart, there’s only—” “Don’t say it,” Yixiao interrupted firmly. “If you can do it, there’s no need to say it. If you can’t, saying it is useless. So, don’t say anything.”
Feng Suige fell silent and simply held her tightly.
No one would underestimate the speed at which rumors spread. More and more people in the city began discussing how the one who lost the archery competition had won the Emperor’s favor. Increasingly, people praised the beauty and grace of Marquis Jianxin Ye Duanfang’s sister, who was soon to become the Prince’s consort. The number of noble ladies who came to pay their respects each morning dropped sharply, and those who still visited always spoke with a probing tone.
Yixiao, at the center of these events, ironically became the most idle person. She spent her days either practicing archery or reading in Feng Suige’s study. Occasionally, she would tend to her favorite flowers and trees in the garden. No one knew why she remained so calm, including Feng Suige and even herself.
In truth, she wasn’t entirely oblivious. Feng Suige’s restlessness, the servants’ whispers, and Qin Qi’s hesitation to speak all made her realize that what she had heard was more than just a rumor. But since that day, she had never discussed the matter with Feng Suige again.
She and Feng Suige were born on opposite sides of a great chasm, with no bridge to cross and no path to follow. They both carried too many burdens, and neither could afford any negative consequences.
Fu Yixiao sighed, tossing the book she held onto Feng Suige’s desk. She stood up and stretched.
“Yixiao, Yixiao…” Feng Suige’s call came from below the study. His voice was so joyful that even Yixiao couldn’t help but feel curious. She quickly walked to the window, leaned out, and responded. Feng Suige, smiling, waved at her, “Come down, I have a surprise for you.”
As she descended from the study, she saw her eyes darting all over him. Feng Suige laughed heartily and raised a silk scarf in his hand. “Come, let me blindfold you first.”
Guided by Feng Suige, Yixiao walked for quite some time. Just as she was about to reach up and remove the blindfold, Feng Suige stopped. He said gently, “First, guess what it is.”
Yixiao concentrated on the sounds around her: the wind, the rustling of flower petals and leaves, and occasional bird calls. “This is the flower garden,” she hesitated, then asked, “Have you found some rare flower or plant?”
Feng Suige turned her by the shoulders, facing her in a new direction. He whispered mysteriously in her ear, “Take ten steps forward and see what you can touch.”
One step, two steps, three steps…
Suddenly, Yixiao’s outstretched hand was grasped by a soft, delicate palm. She froze for a moment, then abruptly pulled down the silk scarf. “Xueying!!”
Watching the two women shriek like children, hugging each other and alternating between laughter and tears after just a few words, Feng Suige couldn’t help but grin. He turned to look at Ning Fei beside him and saw the same expression and emotions on his face.
“You’ve taken good care of her,” Ning Fei said, sensing Feng Suige’s gaze. He shifted his eyes from his beloved wife, his tone gentle but with a hint of anger. “But I still think I should take her back to Jinxiu.”
Feng Suige was taken aback. Ning Fei continued, “If you can’t do it, I advise you to let her go early—she won’t be able to tolerate it, and no one can predict what might happen then.”
“I understand,” Feng Suige’s eyes dimmed slightly. “I’m trying, but I have many constraints. If…” “There are no ‘ifs’,” Ning Fei interrupted. “If she were willing to share a lover with another, she wouldn’t have refused the proposal to serve as co-wife with the Princess in the first place.” Feng Suige nodded slightly. “That’s why I hope your arrival might bring about some changes in the situation…”
“Really?!” Yixiao’s exclamation came from nearby. Both men turned to look at their wives. Yixiao was holding Xueying’s hand, examining her curiously from head to toe, while Xueying’s face had turned red.
Suddenly, Yixiao became angry. She pointed at Ning Fei from afar and scolded, “Are you a pig? Do you have any brains? She’s with a child, and you let her travel such a long distance with you. What if something had happened to the baby…”
Before she could finish, Ning Fei’s eyes widened. “Ask her how she hid it from me! She knew she was pregnant two days before we left, but she didn’t tell me until we were almost at Susha!!”
Yixiao was momentarily at a loss for words. She glanced at Xueying, then quickly turned back to continue scolding, “You’re the pig! You didn’t even know your wife was pregnant until she told you…” At this point, she couldn’t help but burst into laughter, and even Xueying was laughing as she repeatedly patted Yixiao’s shoulder.
Ning Fei glared at Yixiao for a while, then suddenly deflated, looking dejected. “Fine, a good man doesn’t argue with a woman. Besides, I can’t compete with you now, Your Highness.”
Yixiao clearly didn’t understand the last part. She tilted her head in confusion and asked, “What did you call me?” Xueying beside her, beaming with joy, pinched her cheek and said, “You heard right. Ning Fei called you Your, High, ness, Prin, cess!”