Perhaps he remembered, but how to put it, she no longer cared about him.
For someone who wasn’t cared about, any habits were useless.
Sighing inwardly, Buxiu didn’t speak again.
In the distance, Yiqi Pavilion was brightly lit. When Mingyi returned from her outing, she found Zhou Zihong, who had already gone to bed, standing at the door waiting for her.
He wore only a single layer, his fingertips turning blue from the cold. Mingyi frowned at the sight and quickly pulled him inside, grasping his hands: “Couldn’t you have worn a cloak when coming out?”
“I was worried about you, My Lord.”
“It’s not a big deal, he doesn’t eat people,” Mingyi shook her head, pushing him back into the bed and wrapping him in a quilt. “Even if we don’t consider that I’m the City Lord of Chaoyang, just in terms of Yuan Power, I could escape unscathed in his presence.”
Zhou Zihong looked at her deeply: “What about in terms of feelings?”
Her eyelashes trembled, and Mingyi lowered her gaze: “What feelings?”
“He condescended to come to this back courtyard of Chaoyang, isn’t it to rekindle the old relationship with My Lord?” Zhou Zihong pressed his lips together, then felt somewhat regretful after speaking. “I’m sorry, I tried my best to hold back, but I couldn’t.”
Mingyi laughed, reaching out to poke his forehead: “In this back courtyard, when it comes to jealousy, you rank second, and no one dares to rank first.”
“But you’re overthinking it. Ji Bozai is naturally proud; he would never lower his head to me. He came tonight only because there are spies in the palace, and he needs to clean them out before he can return.”
Zhou Zihong pouted: “He could stay anywhere, why must it be Qingming Hall?”
Scratching her sideburns, Mingyi laughed dryly: “I arranged it.”
He glared at her, unsurprised.
Mingyi raised both hands: “He paid to renovate the new palace. We can’t let him stay in the old one, can we? If word got out, the other five City Lords would file a complaint against me. We’ve just established new laws; it’s a sensitive time. We should avoid trouble where we can, don’t you think?”
“My Lord always has a reason,” he turned to his side, facing away from her. “I’m just petty and inconsiderate of the bigger picture.”
Mingyi laughed, patting his back to comfort him: “My love is the most understanding; everyone in the courtyard knows that.”
He grunted, paused for a moment, then finally lifted the quilt to pull her in, covering her well. He squeezed her cold hand and said in a muffled voice: “Warm yourself up.”
“Alright,” Mingyi agreed with a smile, lying down to sleep beside him.
She always slept well by his side, her breathing becoming even within the time it took an incense stick to burn. However, Zhou Zihong barely closed his eyes that night. He had an uneasy premonition of losing her.
It wasn’t just him. Upon hearing that His Majesty would be staying for a while, the entire back courtyard was abuzz with gossip the next day.
“The mighty Lord of Six Cities, why would he come to our place?”
“If you say he has no feelings for My Lord, even the 6,728 bricks in my room wouldn’t believe it.”
“We’re still better off. Look at Consort Lin; now that’s a case of a minor ghost meeting a true god. She’s in a panic.”
Lin Huan sat nearby, looking unwell, but still sneered: “You dare mock me when no one has even stepped over your threshold?”
“Well, your threshold gets stepped over plenty, but doesn’t My Lord always leave within the time it takes an incense stick to burn?” someone covered their mouth and said, “Quite efficient, aren’t they?”
Lin Huan slammed the table and stood up, summoning the Netherworld to fight.
Today was the regular day for paying respects in the back courtyard, but neither Situ Ling nor Zhou Zihong, who were supposed to receive the greetings, had come. The place quickly turned into a chaotic mess. Men, as always, were most fond of fighting. The palace servants and maids who saw this didn’t stop them, only sending someone to inform Mingyi.
So, while Mingyi was yawning continuously and reporting to Ji Bozai, she suddenly heard Bai Ying say: “My Lord, a fight has broken out in the back courtyard.”
Her whole body tensed. She stood up, perfunctorily bowing to Ji Bozai: “This subject has matters to attend to. Your Majesty, please enjoy your meal first.”
“Wait a moment,” Ji Bozai sent the last spoonful of porridge into his mouth, saying leisurely, “I’ll go with you.”
What’s there to go for? Mingyi gritted her teeth, knowing he just wanted to watch the drama unfold. She condensed her face and didn’t reply, walking out and stepping onto her sword.
The maids behind couldn’t keep up with her. Only Ji Bozai could step onto his sword and fly alongside her. Mingyi wanted to shake him off, so she increased her speed. But this man wouldn’t admit defeat; when she sped up, he followed suit. The two chased each other, flying three li away.
The quarreling crowd in Chaoqian Hall saw My Lord fly past the door on her sword, then fly back on her sword.
“Sorry,” she put away her sword and said with a straight face, “I flew too far.”
Ji Bozai followed her in, and everyone was stunned. They could only reluctantly kneel and salute: “Greetings to Your Majesty and My Lord.”
“Rise,” Ji Bozai didn’t stand on ceremony, waving his sleeve to let them up, then sat himself in the main seat.
By rights, it was proper for His Majesty to sit in the main seat, but this was Mingyi’s back courtyard. The main seat was usually occupied by her or her noble husband. What did it mean for His Majesty to sit there?
Not only did he sit there himself, but he also beckoned to Mingyi: “Why are you standing? Take a seat.”
Mingyi wanted to speak but held back, then wanted to speak again but swallowed her words. Finally, she took a deep breath and sat down beside him.
“I heard there was a fight here,” he said with a smile. “Is there a reward for winning?”
“Your Majesty, please forgive us,” Lin Huan was the first to kneel. “Someone here was insubordinate. It wasn’t this humble one’s fault, and we’ve already stopped fighting.”
Seeing him, Ji Bozai became interested: “Raise your head.”
Lin Huan trembled, very unwilling, but still closed his eyes and raised his head.
Ji Bozai squinted at him for a while, then stroked his chin and turned to ask Mingyi: “Don’t you think he bears some resemblance to me?”
Mingyi forced a smile: “Your Majesty flatters him. Although Lin Huan is delicate and charming, how could he compare to Your Majesty’s elegance?”
“Is that so?” He clicked his tongue. “I thought you had me in your heart, so you brought him into your back courtyard.”
“A misunderstanding,” Mingyi said. “This subject only saw that he was lonely and pitiful.”
“I’m lonely too,” he lowered his eyes. “Why doesn’t the City Lord show any compassion towards me?”
Mingyi looked away towards the door: “This subject wouldn’t dare.”
The atmosphere became somewhat strange, and no one standing in the hall dared to make a sound.
It was at this moment that Zhou Zihong stepped through the door. Seeing the situation in the hall, he frowned then relaxed, slowly walking forward to salute Mingyi: “This subject was busy with matters of the court, hence the late arrival. I beg My Lord’s forgiveness.”
Seeing him, Mingyi’s expression improved considerably: “My love, no need for formalities. Has there been any issue with the new laws?”
Zhou Zihong nodded: “Lord Situ is currently negotiating with several dissenting senior officials from the Ministry of Justice, so he couldn’t come either.”
“We don’t need to guess who those dissenting senior officials are,” a talented person spoke up, frowning. “Those few people always claim to be devoted to Chaoyang, but they’re just afraid of their authority being shaken even slightly. They’re unwilling to accept anything unfamiliar to them.”
“Let’s send Su He to persuade them. He’s more familiar with those senior officials.”
Mingyi nodded, looking towards another talented person: “Su He, you go out for a while later.”
“Yes, My Lord.”