Forbidden to Bully the Storybook’s Heroine – Chapter 32

Delicate and Soft

Song Muyun nestled in her arms, sleeping soundly. The woman’s body was pliant and slightly cool to the touch, wonderfully comfortable to hold.

Jiang Yao was not sleepy, therefore she just held Song Muyun, gently patting her back to soothe her to sleep.

Time trickled by. She had not closed the door when she came in, leaving it slightly ajar. From the sliver of sunlight that fell into the room, she could judge the time.

Just before noon, the woman in her arms finally stirred with a soft murmur. A fuzzy head of hair unconsciously nuzzled against Jiang Yao’s neck before seeming to freeze. She blinked and lifted her head, her pair of captivating eyes now clouded with a dazed confusion, as if she were not fully awake.

Jiang Yao rubbed the small of the woman’s back, intending only to comfort her. Unexpectedly, the touch sent a shiver through her entire body. A film of moisture welled up in her eyes, as if she had been startled.

She paused, quickly pulling her hand back. Her eyes darted around guiltily. Song Muyun lightly bit her thin lip, the action finally clearing the last vestiges of sleep from her mind. A pleasant, tingling sensation was slowly spreading from her lower back—it was a place on her that could not be rubbed.

She had not felt much when they were just holding each other, but she never expected Jiang Yao to directly use her hand to rub her there.

Though her heart found her a bit reckless, she was not truly angry. She remained leaning in her embrace, occasionally rubbing her cheek against the other woman. Waking up to see her, rather than a pitch-black room and her own lonely self, brought a profound sense of peace to her heart.

“Awake now?”

Song Muyun opened her eyes and looked at her. Though the touch had made her tremble, she said not a word, simply burying her head back into Jiang Yao’s chest with a look of pure contentment. Left with no choice, Jiang Yao had to be the one to speak first.

A lazy voice drifted up through her chest. “Mmm, I am awake.”

She was as comfortable as a kitten basking in the sun, eyes squinted in bliss.

“Did you have any nightmares this time?” she asked.

Seeing how peaceful Song Muyun seemed, Jiang Yao’s heart relaxed. It seemed she had not had any nightmares.

Sure enough, the woman in her arms lifted her head a moment later, her eyes bright with a hint of surprise, as if she had only just remembered. “No nightmares,” she said happily. “It is all thanks to you.”

Last night, she had repeatedly fallen asleep only to be jolted awake by nightmares again and again. She was already terrified.

But sleeping by Jiang Yao’s side, the terrible dreams had not intruded.

As if grasping the last lifesaving straw, Song Muyun clutched Jiang Yao’s arm, only to be drawn into an extremely natural embrace.

She did not know when it started, but this sort of intimacy, which crossed conventional boundaries, was appearing more and more in their time together. Jiang Yao would always hug her or take her hand so naturally, and she would even feed her. Most of the time, Song Muyun found she was only shy, unable to muster a single thought of resistance.

This already went against the teachings her father had instilled in her since childhood.

“It is good you had no nightmares. Shall we get up? I will take you out to eat.”

Song Muyun nodded obediently and finally pulled away from her embrace to get up and dress.

Just as her fingers touched a long white dress, Jiang Yao pointed to a long feise¹ dress inside the wardrobe. “How about you wear this one? It is the same color as my dress.”

It was a sudden whim; she wanted to wear matching colors with Song Muyun.

Song Muyun’s long, fair fingers paused over the feise dress, and she hesitated. All these brightly colored dresses had been prepared and sent over by the House, but she had never worn any of them. Raised in a family of fragrant books², she was accustomed to more refined and subtle colors. But today, Jiang Yao wanted to see her in red…

After only a moment’s hesitation, Song Muyun took down the red dress and nodded, her cheeks flushing slightly.

Though Jiang Yao’s conduct was often carefree and unreserved, she still possessed the necessary bottom line. Seeing that she was about to change, she quickly went out into the courtyard to wait.

It was a troublesome affair for a woman to get dressed, not to mention pinning up her hair and applying makeup. Jiang Yao waited for a full ke³ before Song Muyun finally emerged, holding the tanghulu⁴ that Jiang Yao had brought for her.

The sugar coating on the tanghulu had started to melt. In her haste to get Song Muyun to rest, she had wrapped it in oil paper and set it aside, and now it had been picked up again.

Dressed in vibrant red for the first time, Song Muyun felt deeply self-conscious. She did not dare meet Jiang Yao’s gaze, keeping her eyes fixed on the tanghulu.

“Shall I take you to Zui Changchun⁵ for lunch?”

Zui Changchun and Zui Xianglou⁶ were both famous restaurants in the capital city⁷. Jiang Yao preferred Zui Changchun; their drunken ribs were the most tender and delicious, a true specialty among the city’s establishments.

Song Muyun’s beautiful, shimmering eyes flickered toward her before quickly looking away. She gave a soft nod. She rarely had strong opinions on such matters—as long as Jiang Yao was happy, she was too.

Jiang Yao took her to Zui Changchun. After the meal, she pulled her along to go shopping. This was, after all, at the foot of the Son of Heaven⁸, teeming with dignitaries and nobles. As they walked, they encountered acquaintances every few steps.

Some of these people looked shocked, while others wore expressions of knowing understanding. Some even clasped their hands in a formal greeting. Jiang Yao, unfamiliar with the capital’s etiquette, would instinctively return a crisp jianghu⁹ salute. It was only when she turned and saw Song Muyun gracefully curtsy that she would realize her gesture was wrong. It felt too awkward to correct, so she would just scratch the back of her head and pull Song Muyun away.

Song Muyun always followed her compliantly. She had not always been like this. It was the sudden calamity that had befallen her family that had, bit by bit, made her so docile. Although her bones retained a proud spirit and she refused to bow her head to others, her temperament had been polished into something much more obedient.

The two of them went to a pawnshop, an auction house, and then a jewelry pavilion. It was not until the delicate young woman, who had no martial arts training, complained that her legs were too sore to walk another step that Jiang Yao finally took her back. On the way, she stopped at Baiyu House¹⁰ to buy a whole packet of her favorite wandouhuang¹¹ and pressed it into her hands.

“Keep these to eat. I will buy you more tomorrow. I must go back for a bit, so I cannot stay with you for now. If you need anything, just send someone to the Jiang Residence to find me.”

She untied a jade pendant from her waist and tucked it into Song Muyun’s hand along with the cakes. Song Muyun naturally tried to refuse, but it was no use. Jiang Yao insisted. Then she ruffled her hair and told her that if Murong Qing came again, she absolutely had to send for her. She would go and take care of him.

The little fairy, still easily embarrassed even in a dazzling red dress, could no longer hear what Jiang Yao was saying. The only thing she could clearly feel was the lingering sensation of a hand on her head. She turned her head to the side, her face flushed, and nodded randomly. She is clearly not much older than I am, she thought, so why is she always patting my head and pulling me into hugs like I am a child?

Once the woman was safely back in her wing room¹², Jiang Yao departed. Having learned that Murong Qing had visited her yesterday, she naturally assumed he was the one who had frightened her and caused her nightmares. Before leaving, she gave some silver to one of the girls at the House with a strict instruction: if Murong Qing came again, no matter who he was looking for or what his business was, she was to immediately send someone to the Jiang Residence to find her.

The Eighth Prince did not want to lose to Murong Qing in the autumn hunt and end up with the worst archery and horsemanship skills, so he had sought her out for secret lessons. He also knew that if she were to frequent the Eighth Prince’s residence, it would draw too much attention, so he always came to the Jiang Residence in secret for his training.

Teaching him was better than teaching Murong Qing. Murong Qing was a terrible student but had an enormous ego, refusing to let anyone point out even the slightest of his faults. It was truly exhausting, and she could not be bothered to serve him.

Jiang Yao returned to the Jiang Residence and began instructing Murong Ci on the martial arts platform that Jiang Heng had specially built for her.

Murong Ci was dreadful at first, but he gradually improved his aim and his form got better. At the very least, he could now hit the target with all ten arrows he shot.

Jiang Yao lounged on a nearby rocking chair, eating fruit and giving him pointers. As the sky darkened and the target became difficult to see, Murong Ci finally lowered his aching arms, planning to return tomorrow. He pulled an object from his robes and handed it to Jiang Yao. “Here is today’s payment,” he said jokingly.

Jiang Yao waved a hand and accepted the exquisite long box without ceremony. Opening it, she saw it was an item from the auction house a few days ago—a hairpin whose carving was said to be the work of some great master. She had not known who had won the bid. So, it was the Eighth Prince.

“Your Highness is most generous. If you have any other jobs like this in the future, be sure to find me.”

“But of course.”

Jiang Yao had someone escort the sensible prince out, then beckoned another person over. She handed him the hairpin and told him to deliver it to Yueshang House and place it directly into Song Muyun’s hands. While he was there, he was to check if anyone was bullying her or if she seemed unhappy.

Only after receiving the news that Miss Muyun was perfectly fine did Jiang Yao relax and stay at the Jiang Residence. The next morning, after a hasty breakfast, she set out once more for Yueshang House.

The people of the Jiang Residence were already used to this. Only Jiang Yao’s mother did not understand where she was going every day, grumbling to Jiang Heng that she had never been this diligent even when she was practicing her martial arts.

Jiang Heng just smiled without a word. The Song family’s style was pure and upright. It was far better for Jiang Yao to spend her time with her than to run around with fox friends and dog companions¹³ like Jiang Huai did.

Meanwhile, Jiang Yao arrived outside Song Muyun’s room with a box of warm pastries. She knocked on the door. But instead of hearing the usual cool, clear “Come in,” the door was thrown open with force. A snow-white figure shot out from within like an arrow released from a bowstring, crashing straight into her arms.

The woman’s delicate, soft body was trembling slightly as she tried to press her entire self into Jiang Yao’s embrace. Faintly, Jiang Yao could hear the sound of fragile, choked-back sobs.

Jiang Yao was completely dumbfounded, her jaw nearly on the floor.

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The author has something to say:

Taking the first step toward living together!

What others think the fight for the throne is like: You frame me, I frame you, a fiery pit of intrigue.
What the Eighth Prince’s fight for the throne is actually like: Secretly practicing archery to become a shocking success and involute to death¹⁴ the other princes!

……

Going VIP¹⁵ tomorrow~ Just a heads up, I am still more accustomed to writing emotional tietie¹⁶. There will be plot, but its proportion will not be large, perhaps even quite small. (^O ^)

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