As the scorching midday sun blazed overhead, tree leaves glistened a vibrant green. The incessant cicada song in the branches hinted at the approaching summer’s languid atmosphere.
Inside the prince’s mansion, many were dozing off. However, the tea room servants couldn’t afford such luxury. They had to remain alert, ready to serve tea and water to their masters at any moment. Despite their drowsiness, laziness wasn’t an option.
Two young maids fanned themselves by the stove when suddenly someone announced the prince’s return. One maid hurriedly rose to serve tea, but she returned shortly after, her face flushed with embarrassment, the tea tray still in her hands.
“What happened? Didn’t you go to serve tea?” her companion asked.
The maid, barely able to speak, mumbled while fanning herself, “Just go listen outside, and you’ll understand.”
Curiosity piqued, and the other maid left the tea room. As she approached the main chamber, unexpected sounds reached her ears – soft, passionate moans mingled with heavy breathing. Good heavens! In broad daylight! Her mind reeled, her face burning as she hastily retreated to the tea room.
Silence enveloped them, broken only by the bubbling of boiling water and the distant cicadas. Both maids’s faces were crimson, fanned themselves vigorously without uttering a word. Yet, they shared the same thought: the master and mistress were becoming increasingly brazen, no longer confining their activities to the night!
Ming Tan hadn’t anticipated Jiang Xu’s boldness in broad daylight. While nighttime escapades were one thing, the clarity of daylight made everything startlingly vivid and utterly mortifying. She bit her lip to stifle her voice, but Jiang Xu, ever crafty, alternated between gentle and forceful movements, catching her off guard and eliciting involuntary sounds.
Their passionate encounter lasted until sunset. Golden rays filtered through the window lattice, casting a dreamy glow.
Ming Tan’s skin was sticky with sweat, and her body was completely drained. After being carried to the washroom, she returned to find maids changing the bedding. They kept their heads bowed, ears tinged red, clearly embarrassed by the evidence of lovemaking.
Mortified that everyone knew of their daytime activities, Ming Tan wrapped herself in the new comforter and retreated to a corner, momentarily forgetting about Consort Lan.
Jiang Xu, refreshed and dressed, gazed at the long bundle in the bed. “Not hungry for dinner?” he asked, his voice husky with satisfaction.
Ming Tan shook her head, whispering, “Not hungry.”
“I’m not hungry either,” Jiang Xu replied. “Rest. I’ll be in the study.”
Of course, you’re not hungry, Ming Tan thought bitterly, nibbling on the comforter’s edge.
Jiang Xu spent several hours in his study. During this time, a covert guard reported to him, and Shu Jingran came to play chess.
Shu Jingran noticed Jiang Xu’s unusually good mood. Topics that would typically elicit only a grunt now sparked the prince’s interest.
“Earlier, when I entered the mansion, I encountered that skilled maid of the princess – the one who rescued the drowning lady at Prince Ping’s estate and helped me out. Is she… from the Jinyun Guard?” Shu Jingran inquired.
“Yun Yi? Yes, she is,” Jiang Xu confirmed.
Shu Jingran chuckled, recalling something. “How poorly does the prince’s mansion treat its people that they need to buy roast chicken from outside?”
Surprisingly, Jiang Xu asked, “Are you interested in her?”
Shu Jingran was taken aback. He instinctively wanted to deny it, but the words caught in his throat.
Earlier, when he had greeted Miss Yun, she hadn’t recognized him at first. Only after he mentioned the incident at Prince Ping’s estate did she recall. It was clear she had merely followed the princess’s orders that day, unaware of whom she was helping.
She had politely offered him some roast chicken, but her actions betrayed her words – she showed no intention of actually sharing. She seemed relieved when he declined.
Miss Yun Yi was indeed intriguing.
Shu Jingran smiled again but didn’t answer directly. Instead, he remarked, “It’s the first time I’ve seen you interested in such matters.”
Jiang Xu fell silent.
After a pause, Shu Jingran changed the subject. “If it weren’t for helping me that day, the princess wouldn’t have suffered so. Is she in the mansion now? I should apologize to her in person.”
“No need,” Jiang Xu replied, focusing on the chessboard. “She’s napping in her chambers.”
“Napping? At this hour?”
Jiang Xu nodded. “She was tired this afternoon. She even skipped dinner.”
Shu Jingran hesitated. He sensed a hidden meaning in Jiang Xu’s detailed explanation. Was the prince inviting him to inquire further about why the princess was tired?
Taking the bait, he asked, “The summer heat is intense, especially at noon. What tired the princess so?”
Jiang Xu didn’t answer, but Shu Jingran felt he had asked the right question. The prince’s relaxed expression seemed to convey a sense of satisfaction.
As the night deepened, Shu Jingran left the mansion. Jiang Xu accompanied him out of the study before heading back to Qi’an Hall.
The night breeze carried a subtle fragrance.
Upon reaching Qi’an Hall, Jiang Xu asked Su Xin outside, “Has the princess eaten?”
“Not yet, Your Highness. She hasn’t risen,” Su Xin replied respectfully. “Would Your Highness like some supper?”
“Very well,” Jiang Xu nodded. “Prepare extra.”
Su Xin understood, curtsying as the prince entered. She hurried to the kitchen to arrange supper, including both Jiang Xu’s and Ming Tan’s favorite dishes.
When Jiang Xu roused Ming Tan for supper, she was still groggy. Initially reluctant, she clung to her blanket, softly refusing. But when Jiang Xu had the food placed by the bed, the aroma of scallion dumplings tempted her.
Soon, her appetite overcame her drowsiness. She scooted to the edge of the bed, sitting beside Jiang Xu with her feet dangling.
Still half-asleep, she silently stared at the dumplings, as docile as a child, utterly endearing.
Noticing her gaze, Jiang Xu discreetly moved the dumplings closer to her.
Unexpectedly, she blurted out, “Husband, feed me.”
Jiang Xu paused.
Su Xin, who was setting the table, smiled and tactfully retreated.
Ming Tan, still drowsy, hadn’t thought before speaking. As she realized what she’d said, Jiang Xu silently lifted her onto his lap. Then, somewhat awkwardly, he began spooning dumplings to her lips.
Ming Tan, surprised, ate obediently.
The dumplings were savory, but a sweetness spread through her heart. After she was full, she suddenly hugged Jiang Xu, nuzzling against him. “Husband, you’re so good to me,” she murmured.
Jiang Xu set down the spoon.
He didn’t fully understand his actions. He had always thought his wife was troublesome and clingy, preferring to limit their interactions to the bedroom. Yet, he found himself wanting to indulge her small requests, telling himself it was harmless to be kind to his wife.
As she slipped down slightly, he pulled her up, his lips brushing her neck. “Would you like to spend the summer at Yongchun Garden?” he asked softly.
“Yongchun Garden?” Ming Tan’s face lit up. “The Empress mentioned today that in half a month, they’ll be going there to escape the heat. She said the Emperor had reserved a place for us and invited us to stay. I was going to tell you at noon, but you…”
She trailed off, too embarrassed to finish, blushing at the memory of their afternoon activities.
Jiang Xu, unabashed, pondered for a moment before agreeing, “Then we’ll go to Yongchun Garden for the summer.”
The mention of the Yongchun Garden reminded Ming Tan of Consort Lan. After cuddling with Jiang Xu for a while, she casually asked, “By the way, husband, are you close with Consort Lan from the palace?”
“Consort Lan? We’re somewhat acquainted.”
“What does ‘somewhat acquainted’ mean?”
“She was a princess’s study companion in our youth. We studied together.”
“Oh, childhood friends then.”
Jiang Xu, oblivious to his wife’s jealousy, reminisced, “Her grandfather was my father’s mentor. In my childhood, he was very kind to me. I heard that when my father was alive, there was talk of betrothing us.”
“…Then why didn’t it happen?”
Jiang Xu didn’t answer, but Ming Tan realized her blunder. Of course – his father had passed away, and he had lost his position as the crown prince’s son!
Quickly changing the subject, she asked, “What do you think of Consort Lan?”
“She’s very talented.”
Hearing Jiang Xu praise another woman stung Ming Tan. Swallowing her jealousy, she ventured, “Then, husband, between Consort Lan and me, who is more…” She left the question hanging, her eyes wide and expectant.
Jiang Xu finally caught on. “Has someone been gossiping?”
Ming Tan lowered her gaze, silent.
“I’m merely acquainted with Consort Lan, nothing more. The Emperor also studied with us back then.”
“Oh.”
Ming Tan had suspected there was nothing between her husband and Consort Lan – otherwise, the Emperor wouldn’t be so at ease. But hearing it from Jiang Xu himself was reassuring.
She wrapped her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, “Actually, Consort Su has been stirring up trouble, hinting that there’s something between you and Consort Lan.”
Consort Su? Noted.
“Also, husband, you haven’t answered my question. Since you think Consort Lan is talented, if she hadn’t entered the palace, would you have wanted to marry her? This is the first time I’ve heard you praise a woman. You’ve never even praised me.”
“I recall praising you on our wedding night,” Jiang Xu corrected her solemnly.
“Apart from beauty, is there nothing else to praise?” Ming Tan pressed, her face flushing.
Jiang Xu pondered for a long while.
He couldn’t think of anything.
Ming Tan’s face fell.
How hard could it be to find some good qualities? Did it require so much thought?! Annoyed, she tried to climb off Jiang Xu’s lap, but he pulled her back, repositioning her to straddle him face-to-face. With an almost imperceptible sigh, he said softly, “The princess is good in every way.”
His tone, unbeknownst to him, carried a hint of resignation and an unprecedented note of placating compromise.