Forbidden to Bully the Storybook’s Heroine – Chapter 34

As Long As It’s You

The first thing the Eighth Prince saw when he vaulted over the wall was two young women lounging in the courtyard, casually feeding each other orange slices. They looked to be having a wonderful time.

He paused to carefully straighten his clothes before speaking in an elegant tone, “Jiang Yao, you have warm fragrance and soft jade in your arms¹, but to where have you forgotten me?”

Jiang Yao sat bolt upright, her eyes narrowing. Murong Ci was here and she hadn’t even noticed?

Indeed, a woman will throw my heart into chaos and lower my acuity. But she smells so good, and I like her so much QAQ.

Jiang Yao twisted around and saw the Eighth Prince standing alone by the corner of the wall. She raised an eyebrow. “Why have you come alone, Your Highness? Not even a couple of servant boys to attend you?”

Just as she said this, a bow and a quiver of arrows were suddenly tossed over the wall.

Jiang Yao was speechless.

Don’t tell me he climbed the wall to get in?

Murong Ci bent down to pick up the bow and quiver, offering Jiang Yao a faint smile. “Too many people climbing the wall might attract attention.”

…

Jiang Yao stared blankly from him to Song Muyun, her face a mask of confusion. “No, I mean, if you’re afraid, then don’t come. It’s not like I’m the only one living in this courtyard. Someone else is bound to see you climbing in.”

As if to make her words more credible, a window creaked open not far away the moment she finished speaking. A woman appeared, standing there languidly, about to enjoy the breeze. Her eyes met theirs, and the three of them stared at each other. The woman, who had been halfway through a luxurious stretch, froze, too embarrassed to continue. A moment later, the window she had just opened slammed shut.

Murong Ci was at a loss.

He looked completely baffled. “Why would one share a courtyard with others? Is that not troublesome?”

Jiang Yao shrugged. “Your Highness, how is it that your words carry the flavor of ‘why not eat minced meat?’² You are a prince, so of course you can have a courtyard to yourself. Ordinary people have no choice. Yueshang House is only so large; where would they find extra courtyards for every single person?”

Murong Ci paused, a slight frown creasing his brow. After a moment, understanding dawned, and he gave Song Muyun an apologetic smile. “My apologies, I was thinking incorrectly.”

He was a prince and had never experienced sharing a residence. Seeing Song Muyun’s refined demeanor, he had subconsciously assumed she was of the same standing as them. That was why he had spoken thus.

Murong Ci shook his head with a helpless smile. “Then let them see. What were you and Miss Song doing just now?”

Jiang Yao picked up a nearby fruit platter and offered it in his direction. “Eating oranges. Want one?”

She seemed so enthusiastic and natural that Murong Ci walked right over, picked up an orange, and began to peel it.

He actually quite liked this attitude of hers. Not overly fawning or obsequious, she simply treated him as an ordinary person.

Song Muyun had been watching Jiang Yao with a smile in her eyes the whole time. It was only when Murong Ci took the orange that she remembered her etiquette. She quickly stood, bowing her head with downcast eyes. “Muyun pays her respects to His Highness, the Eighth Prince.”

Murong Ci smiled gently. “Miss Song, there is no need for such ceremony. I came in secret today, so please just think of me as a friend of Jiang Yao’s.”

He had been concerned for his reputation. Knowing Jiang Yao was likely with Song Muyun, he had not dared to use the main gate.

In recent days, officials at court had been petitioning one after another for a new investigation into the Song family’s case. He knew there was certainly something fishy about it, but his Imperial Father³ kept suppressing the matter, unwilling to investigate, likely still holding a grudge against the family. At this critical juncture, word had reached the palace that Murong Qing had been brawling in a music hall over his desire to buy Song Muyun for a night. His Imperial Father had found out and, using some pretext at court, gave him a thorough scolding. Murong Ci had no desire to be the second son to be conspicuously reprimanded, so he had thought to be more low-key by climbing the wall. Who knew he would still be seen?

Oh well, he thought. What’s seen is seen. He was still somewhat different from Murong Qing. He was here to find someone, whereas Murong Qing had publicly tried to purchase Song Muyun for the night. Such a debauched act would naturally displease their Imperial Father. Murong Qing was probably stewing in his residence with regret right now.

Song Muyun was a stickler for propriety, and with Murong Ci present, she remained reserved. Jiang Yao reached out, pulled her back down into her chair, and then directed Murong Ci to draw his bow and practice his archery using a thick, old tree as a target.

It was an old locust tree, a much larger target than a standard bullseye. He hit it with ease and turned to look at Jiang Yao.

Jiang Yao was in the middle of peeling an orange. She ate one slice herself, then went to feed one to Song Muyun.

Perhaps because a guest was present, Song Muyun was terribly embarrassed. She turned her head away, unwilling to eat, but Jiang Yao found an opening and popped it into her mouth anyway. A bit of orange juice clung to her lips, and a faint blush colored her cheeks. She tugged lightly on Jiang Yao’s sleeve. “Someone is here. You should not act like this.”

Jiang Yao did not understand what was so wrong with feeding her an orange. Was she not allowed to eat oranges just because Murong Ci was here?

What kind of reasoning was that?

Miss Jiang did not understand and indicated she would not listen. She broke off another slice from the orange in her hand and continued to stuff it in Song Muyun’s mouth. Her finger accidentally brushed against the other woman’s soft lips, and she even gave them a deliberate little stroke.

Song Muyun gasped and quickly lowered her head, not daring to look at Murong Ci’s expression.

How… how can she be so intimate in front of another person! People will say I have no manners.

She abided by the rules—this was not proper, that was not allowed—and had been strict with herself since childhood.

She never imagined that when she grew up, she would meet Jiang Yao, a person who refused to abide by a single rule.

Jiang Yao acted with the utmost willfulness. She did whatever she wanted, and when she was unhappy, she would even scold a prince. She had an extremely ill-mannered and arrogant disposition.

Logically, people like them should never have become friends. But the affairs of the world are hard to predict.

As long as Jiang Yao’s arrogance and willfulness were not directed at her, she actually liked her this way very much.

Off to the side, Murong Ci watched them with a blank expression. He was suddenly struck by the feeling that he should not have come. The two of them were huddled together talking, and neither was paying him any attention at all.

Jiang Yao had called him to Yueshang House to practice, but now she was ignoring him?!

Perhaps his silent resentment was too palpable, because Jiang Yao finally looked up. Her eyes met his just as he loosed an arrow. Seeing that it had landed just shy of the tree’s heart, she nodded in satisfaction. Then, picking up her pace, she stuffed the remaining two orange slices into Song Muyun’s mouth, clapped her hands clean, and walked over. “There are no movable targets here, so you will just have to use those leaves as your bullseyes.”

Murong Ci’s face paled. Do you know what you are saying?!

“The leaves are so small,” he protested, his voice weak like a martial arts failure. “How am I supposed to hit one?”

Jiang Yao raised an eyebrow. “It is very easy,” she said, then took the bow from his hands. She nocked an arrow, drew the string, and, with almost no need to look closely, let it fly. It pierced cleanly through a leaf and embedded itself in the tree trunk.

Murong Ci squinted, afraid he had not seen it clearly. He ran forward for a closer look and confirmed that Jiang Yao had, indeed, hit a single leaf dead on.

…

Well, that was quite sudden. He had never imagined someone’s archery could be so good. Even the martial instructors in the palace probably could not do that.

“Your Highness, care to try?” she asked, holding the bow out to him.

To be honest, Murong Ci really did not want to take it. With skills like hers, why would he ask for his own humiliation?

But Jiang Yao said… “If Your Highness can master this, you will surely be the one to dominate the field at the Autumn Hunt⁴.”

Gods, what tempting words!

Murong Ci did not hesitate for long. He snatched the bow, his expression serious. “Jiang Yao, thank you for your instruction. Without you, I fear I would have been second to last in the Autumn Hunt again.”

If Murong Qing was the prince with the least talent for martial arts, then Murong Ci held the honorable second place. There was not much difference between them.

During the usual Autumn Hunts, Murong Qing would always lose face in a big way, and he would follow right behind Murong Qing, losing face in a small way. He had long since had enough of the frustration and wanted to raise his brows and exhale in pride⁵ for once.

“Practice well, Your Highness. In the opinion of this female subject⁶, your archery is already much better than that of the Third Prince and Fifth Prince. Surpassing His Highness the Second Prince is also just a matter of time.”

She seemed to be offering a few polite words. As soon as she finished, she turned away with a sigh. “Aiya, I only stood for a moment, and my back is already aching. I’ll go sit over there for a bit. I will have to trouble Your Highness to continue practicing.”

She had shot a single arrow, yet she hurried back to sit nestled beside Song Muyun.

The corner of Murong Ci’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing. He raised the bow and began to practice earnestly, arrow after arrow.

Jiang Yao pulled Song Muyun down to sit with her. Her head drooped naturally until it came to rest on the other woman’s shoulder. Gazing at the woman’s profile, white as jade, she adopted a pitiful tone. “Muyun, my arm is so sore. That bow is really heavy. Will you rub it for me?”

She leaned in close, her breath like an orchid⁷.

Such intimacy made Song Muyun’s entire body feel strange. She hastily averted her gaze, not daring to look at Jiang Yao. A wave of weakness washed over her. Biting her red lip, she whispered, “You… you only shot one arrow. If one’s arm is sore, the Eighth Prince’s should be sorer than yours.”

She did not know how to respond and had mentioned Murong Ci in her confusion, but this made Jiang Yao frown in displeasure. She was trying to coax the girl, so why was the girl bringing up someone else? This had never happened before!

And a man, at that. Could it be Song Muyun had a favorable impression of him?!

Jiang Yao’s gaze drifted toward Murong Ci.

Murong Ci felt a sudden cold wind blow past, and his slender frame shivered. Then he heard Jiang Yao’s voice, dripping with menace. “Your Highness, Muyun fears your arm is sore. She is concerned about you. Is your arm sore? If it is, perhaps you should return home and rest for a few days.”

Both Song Muyun and Murong Ci jumped in fright at her words.

Song Muyun wanted nothing more than to clamp a hand over Jiang Yao’s mouth. Her fairy-like, cool composure began to crack inch by inch. She gripped Jiang Yao’s hand with uncharacteristic force, her face flushed with a mixture of shame and anger. “When did I express concern for His Highness the Eighth Prince? You… why do you always spout such nonsense!”

Jiang Yao tilted her chin up, huffing. “Did you not just say the Eighth Prince’s arm is sorer than mine? If that is not concern, what is?”

For some reason, she felt a strange unhappiness and was not sure why. She just wanted to say something biting, to be a little passive-aggressive.

And she had a knack for being biting, which made Song Muyun glare at her.

Murong Ci was now starting to regret coming. He had barely shot a few arrows, and he had already been on the receiving end of several of Jiang Yao’s secret glares. Heaven was his witness, he had not done a thing!

Song Muyun did not know how to defend herself. She could only press her lips together, fuming. After a moment, she turned her head away, refusing to acknowledge Jiang Yao.

Forgetting her manners entirely, she put both of them out of her mind.

Murong Ci hesitated. He felt that since he was already here and had already been glared at, would it not be a waste to leave now?

So, with perfect politeness, as if he had not noticed the tension between the two at all, he replied, “Thank you for your concern, Miss Song. My arm is not sore. I can continue practicing.”

As if to prove his point, he drew the bow and shot another arrow, his movements crisp and powerful, without a hint of weakness.

Although Song Muyun was somewhat angry, she was no match for Jiang Yao’s thick skin. Jiang Yao shamelessly leaned in, draping an arm over Song Muyun’s shoulders. “Did you hear that? The Eighth Prince said his arm isn’t sore! But mine is. It’s bad enough that you don’t care about me, but you want to care for someone else first?”

She was so good at inverting black and white⁸ that it made Song Muyun not want to speak to her at all.

Her thin lips remained pressed tightly together, the corners of her eyes red with anger, her body tense.

They remained at a stalemate for a long while before Song Muyun finally could not take it anymore. She spun her head around, intending to reason with the person, but nearly collided with Jiang Yao’s face, which was inexplicably close. Her red lips brushed against the fine hairs on the other’s cheek, startling her so much that she lurched backward. Jiang Yao quickly grabbed the back of her chair to steady her.

The scare dissipated much of her anger. All Song Muyun could do now was continue to glare at Jiang Yao, though with much less force.

Jiang Yao still looked aggrieved. “It’s bad enough you don’t feel sorry that my arm is sore, but now you’re glaring at me? Is there no affection left? Are you tired of me?”

It was a line from a storybook⁹, and she felt it was perfectly applicable to the current situation.

Song Muyun had never been so wrongly accused in her entire life. If the Eighth Prince were not here, and if she did not want to make Jiang Yao lose face in front of him, she would have turned and left right then, locking Jiang Yao out!

“When did I ever say I was tired of you?” she hissed, keeping her voice down. Even when arguing, she was afraid Murong Ci would overhear. “You… do not make trouble without reason!¹⁰”

Jiang Yao looked pitiful. “But my arm is sore, and you don’t care about me. And if not caring was not enough, you even started to feel sorry for the Eighth Prince!”

Murong Ci’s posture stiffened as he drew his bow. He only hoped that the two of them could argue as they pleased, but not drag him, an innocent person, into it. Thank you very much.

Song Muyun pursed her lips. For the first time, she disregarded her etiquette and gave Jiang Yao’s waist a light pinch. But the force was less than a kitten’s scratch; it was clear she was reluctant yet still angry, only wanting to vent her own feelings.

“When did I feel sorry for the Eighth Prince? I was clearly saying your sore arm is fake! You shot only one arrow. With your martial arts skill, how could your arm possibly be sore!”

Jiang Yao was brazenly self-righteous. “So even if it is not sore, you cannot rub it for me? And does an arm have to be tired to be sore? I just feel that it is sore and want you to rub it for me. It’s fine if you will not rub it, but you had to mention the Eighth Prince. In the end, am I your friend or is the Eighth Prince your friend?!”

Her self-righteous, unreasonable argument was so bold that for a moment, Song Muyun could not find the words to refute it. Finally, she said sullenly, “Do not be so loud. Must another person hear you?”

The only “other person” here was Murong Ci.

Murong Ci wished he could plug his ears and then tell them he could not hear, so please don’t mind him and just pretend he did not exist.

Jiang Yao huffed twice but did lower her voice, though she still sounded displeased. “I only got loud because you got angry with me first.”

She had always been loud; her voice was naturally a bit stronger.

It was true that Song Muyun had been very angry a moment ago. But now that her anger had passed, she could not help but soften. Seeing Jiang Yao like this, she knew she had made her unhappy, too. Jiang Yao’s usual flamboyant aura seemed to have dimmed. Song Muyun pressed her lips together. In the end, she could not truly stay angry with her. She could only soften her voice. “Well, I am not angry anymore now. You should be a little quieter, too.”

Seeing her concede, Jiang Yao deliberately remained silent, her face a wooden mask. Seeing this, Song Muyun began to worry. Is she angry? Why is she so sensitive? I did not even say anything…

The girl appeared cool on the surface, but her eyes held a hint of apprehension, as if she was genuinely afraid she had truly angered her.

Jiang Yao huffed internally. Now you’re scared. That is what you get for mentioning someone else when I am playing with you.

She was completely oblivious to any potential problem with her rather intense possessiveness. Seeing that Song Muyun was starting to look unwell, she finally spoke. This time, she finally lowered her voice and was not throwing a tantrum. She simply held out her arm with an unreasonable demand. “Then you rub it for me. I said my arm is sore, so it is sore. What does the Eighth Prince’s sore arm have to do with you? You just need to manage me; there is no need to manage him.”

Jiang Yao did not want to see Song Muyun pay attention to or care about others in front of her, especially people from the imperial family.

The imperial family’s relationships were exceptionally complicated, and there were few good people among them. Song Muyun was so pure and kind; if she befriended them, she would certainly be deceived!

Her own family, on the other hand, had simple relationships. A legacy of deep affection was in their genes, and their upbringing was excellent. Playing with her was the very best choice.

Jiang Yao tilted her chin, thinking with a hint of pride.

Song Muyun muttered, “I was not trying to manage him.”

But her hands were already obediently kneading Jiang Yao’s arm. The pressure was just right, not too light and not too heavy, making one feel extremely comfortable.

“How come I never discovered before that you like to get angry like this?” Song Muyun asked as she rubbed with all her heart.

Jiang Yao hummed in comfort, leaning back in her chair. Hearing this, she turned her head to look at her, her eyes practically rolling to the heavens. “Who was it that mentioned someone else while I was coaxing you?”

Song Muyun’s grip on her forearm tightened. “You call that coaxing me? Coaxing me to serve you, is that it?”

A faint smile played on her lips, and she did not seem angry. Jiang Yao could not resist reaching out to touch the fingers that were massaging her. They were soft and delicate. “How can this be called serving? I just wanted something to do with you. In a little while, I will knead for you, too, alright?”

The woman’s hands on her arm were incredibly tender and smooth. Jiang Yao could not stop herself from reaching out to touch them several times before she pretended to be serious and casually enclosed them in her own.

Song Muyun was startled. She subconsciously glanced at the figure diligently practicing archery. Seeing that he had not noticed, she breathed a quiet sigh of relief but still tried to pull her hand back.

“You… what are you doing? Did we not agree you would rub for me?”

Why are you getting handsy again?

A blush crept up the side of her face. She simply could not look at Jiang Yao.

Jiang Yao, ever thick-skinned, was completely unable to empathize with her shyness. Instead, she tightened her grip and pulled her hand closer.

“You have already finished rubbing for me. Now it is my turn to rub for you.”

Song Muyun protested that she did not want her to rub, but she could not overcome the other’s insistence, who took one of her hands by brute force.

A slender, beautiful hand rested in Jiang Yao’s palm. Jiang Yao’s method of rubbing was different from Song Muyun’s. Song Muyun focused only on her arm, afraid it was genuinely sore and wanting to relieve the fatigue. But Jiang Yao knew that Song Muyun had been well-protected by her all day and that her hand was not the least bit sore. So, she concentrated her efforts on her palm.

She held each finger, like individual pieces of jade, kneading them one by one, from the fingertip slowly down to the palm.

The palm itself was even more supple, with an excellent feel in the hand. Jiang Yao simply could not put it down.

Song Muyun could not win against her, so she could only lower her head, her face red with a shy blush, as the sensation of her hand being gently kneaded spread to her heart.

It was clearly a very frivolous action, yet she did not find it unpleasant.

“You… you should stop rubbing. Do you not have to teach the Eighth Prince archery? It is not good to leave him there like that. Go on.”

She was intensely shy, and after being kneaded for a while longer, her toes curled up in embarrassment. She just wanted to send Jiang Yao away, to dissipate the heat on her face.

Jiang Yao could not refute this reason. It was indeed not good to leave Murong Ci there. She had to reluctantly let go of the hand. Her expression made Song Muyun unable to look.

It’s not as if you will not be able to touch it in the future. Have you, Jiang Yao, not been handsy few times before?

She thought this to herself, deliberately not looking at her. She lowered her head, and the waves of heat on her face were blown by the cold wind, finally managing to dissipate a little, restoring her usual fair and tender complexion.

Murong Ci was practicing his archery with a serious expression, but ten arrows in, not a single one had hit a leaf.

A deep red mark was forming on his palm from the bowstring. He sighed heavily and lowered the bow to rest for a moment.

It was likely that during the day, all the male and female courtesans were out entertaining guests. Despite the commotion they were making, no one other than the girl who opened her window at the beginning looked out to check.

Jiang Yao walked over just as Murong Ci was taking a break. Without wasting words, she picked up Murong Ci’s bow, repeatedly demonstrated for her several times, and then taught her how to stare intently at a single falling leaf and predict its trajectory. Murong Ci looked as if he half-understood, his face full of confusion. She could only raise the bow again, her eyes sharp, and demonstrate a few more times. When Murong Ci said he seemed to understand a little and wanted to try again, Jiang Yao prepared to return the bow to him. But halfway through handing it back, she suddenly remembered something and called out behind her, “Muyun, come try this bow. It really is heavy.”

Song Muyun had just managed to drive away the heat and calm down. She was lowering her head and taking small sips of tea when she was suddenly called. When she raised her head, her eyes were full of confusion.

She walked over in small steps, stood beside Jiang Yao, and tugged on her sleeve. “I do not know how to draw a bow, what is there to try? Besides, this is the Eighth Prince’s bow. You should quickly return it to him.”

The Eighth Prince, at the side, hurriedly said, “It is no matter, no matter. I am in no hurry to use it. You two can use it first.”

He then let his gaze fall elsewhere.

For some reason, he now had the illusion of being at his Second Imperial Brother’s residence, watching him and his Imperial Sister-in-law being affectionate.

The biggest similarity was… he always seemed to be an outsider QAQ.

“The Eighth Prince has been practicing all afternoon; he is tired by now. This bow is very heavy. You try it. I was not lying to you when I said my arm was sore!”

It was hard to imagine that she was really tricking the young girl, but one could not see it on her face at all. Instead, she looked earnest and very honest.

Song Muyun hesitantly reached out to take the bow. The moment she gripped it, Jiang Yao abruptly let go. The bow almost smashed onto the ground, but luckily she was quick with her eyes and hands and caught it again.

The little fairy was badly startled by that. Luckily the bow did not fall to the ground, and she also breathed a sigh of relief. She then immediately went to pull Jiang Yao’s hand. “You… you put it down. How is it so heavy? No wonder you said your arm was sore. Quick, put it down. I will rub it for you again.”

Jiang Yao raised an eyebrow. She really believed it?

Fool.

She had practiced martial arts since she was young; drawing a bow and nocking an arrow were things she was used to. How could it get sore so easily? She usually seemed so smart. Was this a case of concern leads to confusion?¹¹

The thought that the other person cared about her so much made the corners of Jiang Yao’s lips curl up. She returned the bow to Murong Ci, and then, right in front of him, she walked away with Song Muyun with her tail wagging.

Murong Ci was speechless in his heart. He felt that the two of them were far too close.

As intimate and close as an ordinary married couple.

But they were clearly both women.

Murong Ci told himself in his heart that he was becoming more and more prone to letting his imagination run wild. He quickly retracted his gaze and began to practice archery seriously again.

The sky was already dark. If he did not practice now, it would be delayed until tomorrow.

He was not a person who liked to procrastinate.

Song Muyun felt it was not good to be overly intimate with Jiang Yao outside, so she led the person back into her room. The two sat on the soft couch¹², and she lowered her head, quietly and carefully kneading her arm. Both arms had to be kneaded, with just the right amount of force, making Jiang Yao so comfortable she became drowsy.

After her head drooped one more time, nearly hitting the table¹³ and startling her awake, Jiang Yao blinked her eyes open blearily. She saw Song Muyun still obediently kneading her arm, a faint smile on her lips, her expression incredibly tender.

She could not help but lean closer, resting her face on the table, and looking up at her to confess, “Actually, my arm is not sore.”

Song Muyun did not speak, nor did her kneading motions pause for even half a second.

Jiang Yao continued, “I can shoot arrows continuously for over half a shichen¹⁴, and I would not feel my arm is sore. I was lying to you just now.”

As she spoke, she took the hand that had been massaging for her for so long and held it in her palm, afraid she would get angry and run away.

Speaking of lying to her, she felt a bit of guilt in her heart, but even more anxiety. She did not expect Song Muyun to be so easy to deceive. If someone else were to lie to her, would they not succeed very easily?

Sigh. She is, after all, a delicate young lady raised in the inner chambers. Without me by her side, she will surely be deceived often.

She was convinced she had truly deceived Song Muyun, but she did not expect the other person to calmly raise her head to glance at her, then pull her hand free and continue to rub her arm. Jiang Yao was stunned, thinking she was truly angry. Just as her heart was panicking, in the next second she heard the other person speak softly, “Mm, I know.”

Jiang Yao: ???

“You know?”

This time, she was truly astonished. Jiang Yao’s already round eyes grew even rounder. She thought, Didn’t she believe me after just a few words? She even rubbed my arm for so long! How could she know I was lying to her?

She looked down at the hands that continued to massage her arm even after knowing the truth, and for a moment, she did not know what to say.

Song Muyun looked extremely calm. After finishing this arm, she returned it, then held out her hand. “Mm, the other one.”

Jiang Yao numbly offered her other arm. She watched as that person used her delicate and soft fingers to rub her arm, while calmly saying, “Did you not just want me to rub for you? What is the big deal? If you had said so directly, I would have rubbed for you. Is it comfortable?”

Jiang Yao nodded foolishly, following her heart. “Com… comfortable…”

Song Muyun smiled lightly. “As long as you are comfortable.”

Her smile reached straight into Jiang Yao’s heart. Jiang Yao’s heart thumped wildly, and for the first time with Song Muyun, the one blushing was not her, but herself.

She lowered her head, her voice inexplicably dropping a couple of notches, as if very embarrassed. She confessed honestly to her, “I just wanted you to touch me. Your hands are very soft, and feel very comfortable to touch.”

…

A strange silence suddenly filled the surroundings. This time, Song Muyun truly stopped her hands. Her lips twitched slightly. After a moment, she dropped Jiang Yao’s hand and said helplessly, “You are clearly a woman. How is it that you speak no differently from those scoundrels¹⁵?”

This was truly not easy to answer. Jiang Yao could only pretend not to have heard. She even went so far as to reach out and pull Song Muyun’s hand again. Song Muyun struggled twice, but seeing her insistence, she let her be. A pair of smooth and delicate hands, as white as snow, were held in the arms of a certain scoundrel, the posture becoming even more intimate.

It was only because there was no one else in the room that she was more indulgent with Jiang Yao. Then she heard her ask expectantly, “I lied to you. You are not angry?”

Song Muyun thought, what is there to be angry about? She tentatively tried to pull her captured hands free but could not; they were only held tighter. She let her be and only said, “If it is you, I am not angry.”

The unspoken meaning was, only you are allowed, others are not.

This kind of blatant differential treatment made Jiang Yao’s fervent heart beat faster and faster. She did not know why, but joy flowed through her blood, spreading throughout her body, and her eyes could not help but light up at Song Muyun.

Then she felt her fingers being pulled with as much strength as the other could muster, with a demand, “But you are not allowed to lie to me about important matters.”

Jiang Yao hugged those hands tightly and nodded in promise. “Mm, I will not lie to you anymore!”

She could get benefits without lying, so why would she need to lie?

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The author has something to say:

Jiang Yao: Wuwuwu, wifey loves me so much!

Eighth Prince: I feel like I was in this chapter, but at the same time, I had almost no sense of presence.

Because I need to be on a thousand-character revenue ranking list¹⁶ on Thursday, tomorrow’s update might be a bit shorter, three thousand to four thousand characters. After Thursday, I will continue with daily six-thousand-character updates!

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