The moment Feng Jiu’er stepped out, the door was shut behind her.
She glanced back at the closed door, paid it no mind, and turned to keep walking forward.
In the courtyard, the man who had been grinding medicine sensed a different presence, stopped, and turned around.
“Ninth Imperial Uncle.” Feng Jiu’er walked over with a smile.
She’d known he was there—she’d wanted to come out earlier, but waited to see exactly what Yu Jingfeng was up to.
She hadn’t expected his real target to be the girls inside.
The gloom that had been hanging over Di Wu Ya gradually dissipated as Feng Jiu’er drew near.
“What’s brought this on today—thinking of coming to help?” Feng Jiu’er stood beside Di Wu Ya, her smile radiant.
“Came to see you.” Di Wu Ya smiled with doting affection, continuing to push the pestle.
So it seemed what Yu Jingfeng said wasn’t entirely wrong after all!
Feng Jiu’er bent down, scooped up a handful of medicine, and put it into the millstone.
“Ninth Imperial Uncle is getting more and more smooth-tongued by the day—do you realize how attractive you look like this?”
She raised an eyebrow and glanced left and right.
The women who had still been secretly watching the Prince grind medicine immediately snapped to their senses.
“I’ll go check on the herbs drying in the sun.”
“The next batch of medicine should be arriving soon, right? Let’s go help.”
“Ah! The weather is so nice today!”
“Xiao Mei, what did you say you needed again? I’ll go find it.”
Everyone scattered in every direction, “ignoring” the two people in the courtyard.
Before long, the onlookers were gone, and even those who should have been working in the courtyard had left.
In the courtyard, only Di Wu Ya and Feng Jiu’er remained.
“Girl, is everything manageable?” Di Wu Ya asked softly.
Feng Jiu’er glanced at the man who had rarely spoken up on his own, then bent down again to gather another armful of medicine.
“We people of Tianji Hall are always busy—didn’t Ninth Imperial Uncle know that?”
Di Wu Ya’s mouth curved up, and he continued stepping forward alongside the millstone.
“By the way, Ninth Imperial Uncle, I heard there’s a restaurant in the city whose dishes taste a lot like Bei Mu’s cuisine—shall we go try it?” Feng Jiu’er said with a smile.
“All right.” Di Wu Ya nodded slightly.
Feng Jiu’er stepped forward and took hold of his sleeve. “Let’s go. We’ll leave the rest for Yu Jingfeng.”
After all, this was his task anyway!
“All right.” Di Wu Ya nodded again and set down the pestle.
Feng Jiu’er personally straightened his robes, then looped her arm through his and looked back.
Over at the chamber, a few little heads had somehow poked out again.
They met Feng Jiu’er’s gaze and immediately lowered their heads, about to shut the door.
“Tiantian, tell Yu Jingfeng the rest of the medicine is his to finish. His Highness and I are going out to be in love.”
Come to think of it, over all these years, the number of times they’d actually gone out to be a couple could be counted on one hand—she’d really shortchanged him.
“Okay, okay.” The woman called Tiantian opened the door and bowed slightly.
Feng Jiu’er reached down, her small hand interlacing fingers with the man’s large palm, and looked up with a joyful expression.
“Ninth Imperial Uncle, it might draw too much attention to go out looking like this—should we get changed first?”
“Whatever my wife says.” Di Wu Ya lowered his eyes to meet her gaze, his eyes brimming with doting affection.
Feng Jiu’er led the man by the hand, stepping outside.
At that moment, her mood was as bright as the sunlight in the sky.
Feng Jiu’er could more or less guess why Yu Jingfeng had brought Ninth Imperial Uncle out here to distract her, while he himself slipped into the chamber.
Her man was such a big fool—for her sake, never mind the throne, he’d even give up his own life without hesitation.
So no matter what form their wedding took, as long as the person standing beside her was him, she would be the happiest bride in the world.
As the saying goes, with such a husband, what more could one ask for?
This lifetime—it was enough.