The Prime Minister’s Daughter and the Marquis’s Fool – Chapter 273

Bonus Chapter 9

A Commander Must Not Rely on Authority Alone to Lead

The space in the room suddenly felt cramped. The serving maid realized what had happened and hastily dropped to her knees. “This servant deserves a thousand deaths!”

            

Qu Ning’s gaze swept over to the maid. Zhao Ningying also glanced over reflexively—and when she looked back, Qu Ning had already slipped into the water without a sound.

Qu Ning sat submerged to the shoulders and neck, her heart beating faster. She wanted to see Zhao Ningying’s reaction but was too flustered to look.

The maid was still kneeling. Zhao Ningying understood Qu Ning’s temperament well enough to know she would not punish the servant. She turned and said, “Tidy up here first. Her Highness and I are almost done bathing.”

            

The maid rose hastily and, together with the attendant who had been waiting on Zhao Ningying, set up the folding screen—but dared not approach Qu Ning again.

Qu Ning sat in the water, motionless and silent for a long moment. The maid stole a nervous glance upward, until Zhao Ningying’s voice came through: “Ning-jiejie, are you ready to come out?”

Qu Ning heard her and looked through the screen. She answered stiffly, “Ah.”

            

Zhao Ningying considered for a moment, then rose from the bathing tub first and draped an inner garment over herself. While Qu Ning was still lost in a daze, her ears filled with the sound of water splashing beyond the screen, Zhao Ningying’s silhouette appeared at the edge of the screen.

“Would you like some help?” Zhao Ningying asked softly.

A flicker of surprise surfaced in Qu Ning’s eyes. She watched the damp cloth clinging to Zhao Ningying’s skin, the water droplets blending against it—the supple curve of her waist, the pale luminosity of her long legs—and sat transfixed for a moment.

            

“Ning-jiejie really is a bit fairer than me,” Zhao Ningying said with an admiring grin.

Qu Ning stared at her blankly, not understanding the remark, until a moment later her ears turned red.

Soon Zhao Ningying stepped out, saying as she walked, “We were not finished talking. When we go to the Jiangkou Great Camp, how confident is Ning-jiejie about pushing the tuntian system¹ through?”

            

The moment the conversation turned to state affairs, Qu Ning’s flustered composure returned. She replied, “Seven or eight parts out of ten, at least. It is a policy that benefits the state and the people alike. The soldiers are physically fit, so farming should not be difficult for them.”

Zhao Ningying gathered the clothes the servants had folded, her slender fingers gliding across them before selecting a sleepwear set in a soft peach hue. The garment was embroidered with golden auspicious cloud patterns, fitted at the waist. Zhao Ningying tapped the fabric, and a maid came over to take it up.

Peeling off her own damp inner garment, Zhao Ningying returned to Qu Ning’s earlier point. “So this farmland of ours—are we leasing existing fields from the common people, or opening up new wasteland?”

            

Qu Ning’s eyes flickered. She had already considered this question. For a trial run, leasing was the natural choice. But for large-scale implementation, new wasteland would have to be reclaimed. After all, the territory of Quzhao was only so vast, and nearly all the good arable land had already been brought under cultivation.

Qu Ning emerged from the water, her expression grave as she pondered the question. Reclaiming wasteland differed by region—some areas were mountainous, some waterlogged, and in others the soil was sheer bedrock.

A maid watching Qu Ning step from the bath hurried over with a towel to dry her, then lifted the nearby sleepwear and draped it over Qu Ning’s shoulders, circling to the front to tie the sash at her waist.

            

“This is not something we can figure out all at once. We can mull it over once we reach Jiangkou.”

Qu Ning heard the voice right beside her ear. When she turned her head, Zhao Ningying was already standing right before her. Because of what had just happened, Qu Ning instinctively looked down at her own body—checking for anything improperly exposed.

Zhao Ningying caught the unconscious gesture, and a smile she could not suppress crept to the tips of her brows.

            

They had bathed together as children, having practically grown up side by side. After only two years apart, she had become this shy and self-conscious.

“Let us go—back to the room first. Mother had someone prepare hangover soup², and it is getting cold by now,” Zhao Ningying said with easy composure.

Watching Zhao Ningying turn and walk away, Qu Ning gazed at her back, feeling a faint hollow pang of loss. She drew a breath, and once the maid had draped a thin cloak over her, followed her out of the bathing room.

            

When Qu Ning entered the bedroom, Zhao Ningying was stirring a bowl of soup. Seeing Qu Ning come in, she handed it over.

“Drink it while it is still hot—it works better.”

Qu Ning lifted her gaze, a smile touching her lips, and took the bowl without ceremony, drinking it down.

            

The Zhao Residence’s hangover soup was unlike anywhere else’s. Cheng Xi was the Dean of the National Medical Academy, and her medical expertise was beyond the reach of ordinary practitioners. All members of the imperial household were treated by her personally. She had examined Qu Ning’s constitution from childhood to adulthood, and her use of medicinal ingredients was precise and deliberate.

Zhao Ningying drained her own bowl, exhaled a long breath, and said, “Mother always adds things to my soup without telling me why.”

Qu Ning looked over. A maid took her empty bowl, and she asked, “What medicine did she add?”

            

“Some warming herbs.”

“Oh. Have you felt any discomfort?”

Zhao Ningying shook her head. “No. Every time I finish a bowl, my body feels lighter and my mind thinks more clearly.”

            

Qu Ning nodded. “Aunt Xi must be doing it for your own good.”

Zhao Ningying smiled. She knew that, of course—but being kept in the dark left a small knot of suspicion lodged in her chest, tight and bothersome.

“Let us rest,” Zhao Ningying said, lifting her eyes to Qu Ning.

            

Qu Ning gathered her thoughts, met Zhao Ningying’s gaze, and said, “All right.”

Regarding Zhao Ningying’s health, Qu Ning had previously heard her Empress Mother Lin Xizhao mention that Cheng Xi’s constitution was quite unique—she was a medicine person, refined by the divine physician Liu Wuxiang, and her blood was said to be a potent restorative tonic.

She reckoned that the medicines Cheng Xi gave Zhao Ningying were probably the same herbs used in conditioning a medicine person. Seeing that Cheng Xi was hale and robust, and having heard of no adverse effects, she set her worries aside.

            

Rare indeed was the mother who would harm her own child.

The two of them walked to the bedside one after the other. Qu Ning removed her outer cloak and felt an immediate coolness. The hangover soup she had just drunk warmed her heart and stomach, and her body flushed with gentle heat.

Qu Ning looked up at Zhao Ningying and saw that she too had shed her cloak. As Zhao Ningying turned to climb onto the bed, Qu Ning’s gaze lingered a few beats longer.

            

The peach-colored sleepwear suited Zhao Ningying’s snow-white skin beautifully. The sight warmed the heart, stirred a faint itch—but above all it was soft, inviting touch.

Zhao Ningying settled onto the bed and turned back to look at Qu Ning.

Qu Ning met her gaze, her heart skipping a beat, and lowered her eyes as she climbed in.

            

Once Qu Ning was settled, Zhao Ningying drew the quilt over her. They lay beneath the same quilt, yet a thread of distance remained between their bodies.

Zhao Ningying’s expression and movements were composed, unhurried. In the moment she rolled over, she closed the distance between them.

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Qu Ning, who had not fallen asleep until the latter half of the night, stretched lazily on waking and sat up only to begin yawning at once.

            

“Ning-jiejie is awake.” Zhao Ningying came in from the outer room, looking as though she had just finished washing up herself.

Qu Ning lifted her eyes to take in her graceful, elegant poise, and could not help thinking of her own disheveled state—hair uncombed, face unwashed. Her smile stiffened a fraction. She nodded. “Ying-meimei is up early.”

Zhao Ningying’s eyes crinkled with amusement. “I only rose two ke earlier than Ning-jiejie.”

            

Qu Ning murmured a low “Oh” and threw off the covers to step down from the bed. She had barely begun her morning toilet when Zhu Qianjie’s voice rang out from outside.

“Ying-jiejie just got back! You have got to have a proper good time in the Capital City. I will graciously stoop to being your page—I guarantee Ying-jiejie will have fun and eat to her heart’s content!”

Qu Ning, watching her reflection in the bronze mirror, raised her eyelids slightly. “Is that Qianjie-meimei?”

            

The maid fixing Qu Ning’s hair glanced back, confirming the voice outside, and replied, “Replying to Your Highness, I believe so.”

Laughter rippled in from outside—Zhao Ningying’s. Qu Ning’s eyes shifted. Once the maid finished pinning her hair, she rose and went out.

“Oh, when did Ning-jiejie get here?” Zhu Qianjie asked excitedly.

            

Zhao Ningying laughed. “I did not have time to tell you earlier—Ning-jiejie arrived last night.”

Zhu Qianjie nodded, her grin still in place, and turned to Zhao Ningying. “All the better—more people, more fun. Let us all go together.”

“No, I still need to stop by the Ministry of War. There has been a lot to do lately, and I will be heading to the Jiangkou Great Camp in a few days. You keep Ying-meimei company and show her a good time—I will come see you both later.” Qu Ning’s expression was as composed as ever.

            

“Have breakfast before you go—Mother simmered some restorative soup today,” Zhao Ningying urged.

Qu Ning thought for a moment, then said, “Better not. Qianjie-meimei is here to keep you company, so you rest well. I will come back later.”

“Come back later for what?” Zhu Qianjie asked without thinking. She would not even keep them company during the day—what was she counting on the evening for?

            

Zhao Ningying saw Qu Ning staring at Zhu Qianjie without a word and smoothed things over. “Since you still have to go to the Ministry of War, then go quickly and come back quickly. Qianjie and I will wait for you.”

Qu Ning’s gaze shifted to her, and she nodded. “All right. I will not stop by Aunt Xi’s—pass on my regards for me.”

Zhao Ningying curved her lips. “Good. We will see you out.”

            

Qu Ning walked ahead; Zhao Ningying and Zhu Qianjie trailed behind, seeing her out of the residence.

Zhu Qianjie watched Qu Ning’s carriage depart, then turned and mimicked Qu Ning’s prim, by-the-book manner for Zhao Ningying: “‘No, I still need to visit the Ministry of War—I will come see you both later.'”

Zhao Ningying was tickled. She reached over and patted her lightly. “Do not be like that about Ning-jiejie.”

            

Qu Ning was the Imperial Crown Princess—the future Female Emperor. She might comport herself like a little adult, but her regal dignity was not to be trifled with.

“Oh, I know! Do not let Ning-jiejie’s look fool you—she is soft-hearted underneath.”

Zhao Ningying knew that well enough. She turned to watch Qu Ning’s carriage, and in the instant the curtain fell shut, she startled.

            

Qu Ning returned to the palace and first paid her respects to Qu Sheng and Lin Xizhao, then sat down to share breakfast with them.

Lin Xizhao served Qu Ning some dishes and said, “Do not rush too much at the Ministry of War. This morning, your Mother Emperor issued an imperial edict ordering them to fully cooperate with you. And your Second Uncle has already set aside the silver at the Ministry of Revenue. Go over the details—once everything checks out, have them disburse the funds.”

Qu Ning nodded. “Your child subject understands. Many thanks to Mother Emperor, many thanks to Empress Mother. Your child subject will not let you down.”

            

Qu Sheng ladled soup, looked up at Qu Ning, and said, “Once you enter the Jiangkou Great Camp, forge close ties with the local soldiers as quickly as you can. A commander must not rely on authority alone to lead—win their hearts as well.”

Qu Ning nodded. “Your child subject understands. Many thanks for Mother Emperor’s guidance.”

Qu Sheng looked at her daughter, then glanced up at her wife, and smiled as she drank her soup.

            

Qu Ning finished breakfast and went first to the Ministry of War. Every item of expenditure was being catalogued; Qiao Jin worked at her side. The two of them labored at the Ministry of War from daylight to dark, until the hour of curfew³ fell and the clerks in the yamen had all nodded off to sleep—only then did Qiao Jin and Qu Ning extinguish the lamps and depart.

Stepping out of the yamen gates, Qiao Jin bowed to Qu Ning and headed back to King Long’s Mansion. Qu Ning stood before the doors and looked up at the night sky—the pale, luminous moon, filling the heart with loneliness.

This late, going to the Zhao Residence to disturb them would be improper.

            

“Who goes there?” A patrol guard of the Capital City challenged the figure standing in the corner where moonlight could not reach.

Qu Ning looked up. Her guards hastened to shield her behind them.

“It is me—Zhao Ningying of the Zhao Residence.”

            

A familiar voice poured into Qu Ning’s ears. She watched the figure stepping out from the corner, stood stunned for several beats, then walked over.

“So it is Little General Zhao. It is late—you had best head back early.”

As the patrol guard’s words fell, Qu Ning came forward.

            

Her eyes—eyes that could see in the dark—had already recognized Zhao Ningying.

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The author has something to say:

Qu Ning: “The wife came to inspect my work.”

            

Zhao Ningying: “I just came to check whether you had been carried off by wolves.”

Thank you all for the long wait, muah～

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