“Then promise me you won’t be with Xuan Yanyu.”

Yan Yunning pressed her lips together and gave a perfunctory, “Alright.”

“Don’t trick me.” Qiuci lowered her head and stared at her seriously.

Yan Yunning swallowed and gave a vague “Mm.”

Having successfully distracted Qiuci, Yan Yunning turned and headed to Xuan Yanyu’s guest room.

Inside, Xuan Yanyu reclined at ease against a wooden chair. Ye Jian stood behind him, kneading his shoulders, while Ye Chen sat to the side, grinding ink.

“Xuan Xixi.” Yan Yunning dragged over a wooden chair and sat down across from Xuan Yanyu.

Xuan Yanyu took the brush Ye Chen handed him, lifted his eyelids, and glanced at her. “Where have you been running off to all day?”

Yan Yunning leaned against the writing desk, watching the man’s knuckle-defined fingers turn the brush handle as he wrote on the rice paper.

He finished a stroke and heard no reply. Xuan Yanyu raised his eyes, picked up the brush with a roguish smile, and leaned toward her fair cheek.

“Xuan Yanyu, you dare!” Yan Yunning covered her face and quietly scooted backward.

The man laughed and withdrew his hand. “Mm, I don’t dare.”

Ye Jian and Ye Chen exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with shock.

Ye Jian: “Does His Majesty Prince Xuan know that his precious son has become the devoted subject at Second Miss Yan’s skirts?”

Ye Chen blinked wildly: “If you don’t tell him, how would His Majesty Prince Xuan know?”

Ye Jian: “……”

“Xuan Xixi, Qi Qingchen’s side consort is with child. The Emperor Qi has commanded him to host a banquet at his estate the day after tomorrow to celebrate.” Yan Yunning rested her cheek in her hand and said with a teasing smile, “Xuan Xixi, if you had a child, would your Imperial Father also hold a banquet for you? Would it be even grander than Qi Qingchen’s?”

After all, Prince Xuan doted on Xuan Xixi greatly — wouldn’t he dote on his grandchild even more?

“What kind of banquet would you want?” The smile in Xuan Yanyu’s voice was lazy.

“What kind would I want? I don’t want children.”

Xuan Yanyu’s brow furrowed deeply. She refused to be wedded alongside other women, and now she didn’t want children either — wasn’t she making things difficult for him?

Who would inherit his throne in the future?

And yet that day when they bought the tiger-head shoes, she had agreed with the old woman’s words.

“Ahem — I mean, I don’t want children for now.” Yan Yunning clarified.

She looked at him sunk in thought, brooding over who knows what, and as if compelled by some impulse, added that one sentence.

The deep furrow between the man’s brows smoothed out. “So when will you be willing to have children?”

Ye Chen and Ye Jian’s gazes met, and with wordless agreement they retreated from the room. Their Highness was truly unbearable to watch — asking a woman when she would be willing to have children?

Willing?

With his status, was there a single noble young lady in Xuanzhao who wouldn’t be eagerly throwing herself at him?

Yan Yunning thought for a second and said, “Five or six years from now, perhaps.”

“Too long.”

Yan Yunning looked up and met the man’s eyes. He gazed at her with deep, meaningful intention.

“Ten months.” Xuan Yanyu fixed his eyes on hers, the corner of his lips curling. “Yan Yunning — ten months from now.”

Ten months from now would be exactly when the two-year deadline his Imperial Father had given him arrived. By then he would bring her back to Xuanzhao.

Yan Yunning lowered her head and absently picked up the teacup, taking a sip. Ten months from now — wasn’t that when, according to the book, he was supposed to marry A’Jie, the grand finale of the main story?

“Mine.” The man’s lazy voice was laced with a smile as he reclined against the wooden chair.

“What do you mean, yours?” Yan Yunning raised an eyebrow.

Xuan Yanyu’s large hand clasped over her small one and drew her close. “The teacup is mine.”

And so is she.

Yan Yunning’s eyes shifted away in awkward evasion. From the corner of her eye she caught sight of a letter on the desk — part of it was obscured by the rice paper, and she could only make out the final line: “Yu’er, when there is danger, ensure your own safety first, and remember to protect Shiyao well.”

Below it, Xuan Yanyu had replied: “Imperial Father, your son understands.”

“Why did your Imperial Father ask you to protect my A’Jie?” Yan Yunning asked, puzzled.

“Because Yan Shiyao is the Crown Princess Imperial Father has chosen for this palace.” Xuan Yanyu’s expression was caught somewhere between a smile and something else.

His standards of selection were every bit as careless as Ye Chen’s — if not worse.

“What did your Imperial Father see in my A’Jie?” Yan Yunning’s lips curved slightly. “When Xuanzhao selects a Crown Princess, do you always choose someone with my A’Jie’s temperament? Kindness?”

It was just that her A’Jie was far too kind — to the point of naive benevolence.

“No. My Imperial Mother is not like that — haven’t you met her yourself?”

Yan Yunning’s slender fingers flicked at the letter. “Would you dare to defy your Imperial Father?”

“Marry me, and I will defy him once.” Xuan Yanyu said in that insufferably smug way of his. “If you won’t marry me, then I’ll follow Imperial Father’s wishes and wed Yan Shiyao.”

“Then go marry my A’Jie.” Yan Yunning gave him a sideways glance.

Xuan Yanyu released the hand he held and narrowed his eyes slightly. “You don’t want to marry me?”

“But what if I marry you, and one day I suddenly leave?” Yan Yunning said, as if in jest.

The man toyed with the jade thumb ring on his hand, wearing the look of someone who had no interest in engaging further.

An excuse.

An excuse not to marry him.

Suddenly leave?

It was a long-planned departure if anything.

He didn’t absolutely have to marry her either.

“Has Imperial Physician Wen finished formulating the aromatic incense?” Yan Yunning changed the subject.

“……”

Yan Yunning wrinkled her nose and gave his hand a firm slap. “Xuan Xixi, please don’t go silent on me the moment you’re angry. Is that too much to ask?”

The last half of her sentence came out soft and slightly coaxing.

“Then why must you provoke me?” The man’s gaze turned cold.

“I didn’t provoke you.” Yan Yunning’s voice dropped cool as well.

Xuan Yanyu gave a light laugh. “No one has dared to defy this palace again and again. Since you have no wish to marry this palace, keep your distance from this palace in the future.”

“Hmph.” Yan Yunning let out a contemptuous laugh, turned on her heel, and left the room.

Xuan Yanyu watched her retreating figure, frustration flaring from head to toe.

Yan Yunning stormed all the way back to her guest room in a huff.

“Miss, what happened?” Qiuci paused in the middle of folding the brocade quilt.

“Qiuci, I will absolutely never go looking for Xuan Yanyu again.” Yan Yunning’s eyes blazed with anger.

He could marry whoever he pleased.

“Miss, what happened? Did you get into a fight with Young Master Xuan?” Qiuci asked worriedly.

“He’s the one being unreasonable.” That was the honest truth — he had abruptly stopped speaking to her for no discernible reason. Fine. If he didn’t want to speak to her, she didn’t want him to speak to her ever again either.

One day she would find herself a man even better than him.

“Miss, you……”

“Ningning, A’Jie is coming in.” Before Qiuci could finish, Yan Shiyao’s voice drifted in from outside.

Yan Yunning glanced toward the doorway. “Come in.”

Qiuci hurried over and opened the door, bowing respectfully. “First Miss.”

Yan Shiyao nodded and walked into the room.

“Ningning, have you thought about what gift to prepare for Brother Qi’s celebration the day after tomorrow?” Yan Shiyao asked with a trace of bitterness in her voice.

“We have to prepare a gift too?” Yan Yunning was briefly taken aback.

“Mm.” Yan Shiyao’s eyes ached with unshed tears. “Ningning, we must prepare a gift for his child.”

Yan Yunning: “What do most people generally prepare?”

“The usual things — a gold lock, the four scholarly treasures. And for the side consort, some ornaments with auspicious symbolism should do.” Yan Shiyao turned her head away, quietly wiping at her tears.

“Who covers the cost? Will the Chancellor’s estate pay for it?” Yan Yunning asked with practical concern.

“Mm.” Yan Shiyao nodded.

“Then prepare those things. What else is there to think about?” Yan Yunning lowered her head and fiddled with the teacup.

“The young ladies from every estate always add extra gifts of their own, trying to outdo each other.” Yan Shiyao’s expression drifted into a distant, despondent haze.