Forbidden to Bully the Storybook’s Heroine – Chapter 58

My Delicate Wife

Several days passed, and the time for the martial arts tournament arrived.

Jiang Yao found a spot below the stage and pulled Muyun down beside her. The moment they arrived, she sensed eyes secretly watching them from above, the gazes obscure and hard to read.

She didn’t even need to look up to know that Murong Qing, that shriveled calf¹, was seething with envy, jealousy, and hate again.

Hmph. Who told him to have such crooked morals? Does a man like that deserve the female lead?

Once seated, Jiang Yao took Song Muyun’s hand and held it in her palm. When she finally looked up, she realized it wasn’t just Murong Qing staring at them as if he wanted them dead. There was another one… the Eighth Prince’s younger brother. She couldn’t remember his rank, but he was watching her too. His face looked much better than the ghostly pallor he wore that day.

So, he isn’t naturally pale?

That’s strange. Why was his face so white only on that specific day?

Jiang Yao thought of the assassin she had wounded in the arm, the one who had escaped without a trace. She narrowed her eyes and tapped her waist lightly.

Inside her belt, she had tucked away two darts.

Soon, the Emperor took his seat, and the tournament officially began.

Many military officers of lower rank participated today, hoping to leave a good impression on the Emperor. However, among the princes, only a few with high martial arts skills would likely participate. The rest generally wouldn’t go up to embarrass themselves and risk annoying the Emperor.

Song Muyun leaned close to Jiang Yao and whispered, “Are you going up later too?”

Jiang Yao nodded. “Yeah, I’ll go up and practice a bit.”

“Then I’ll wait for you down here. I’ll pour tea for you when you get back. Be careful, don’t get hurt.”

“Mmn, I know.”

Muyun cared about her. The thought made Jiang Yao’s heart turn soft and mushy. She reached out and rubbed Song Muyun’s head.

They were still out in public, yet she showed no restraint. Song Muyun’s cheeks flushed slightly. She took the hand off her head, held it in her palm, and complained in a whisper, “What are you doing? It’s not good for people to see.”

Jiang Ru, sitting on the other side, was already used to it. She wore a smile, looking incredibly proper and dignified as she chatted casually with the person seated next to her.

The competition was halfway through. Currently standing on the stage with his hands behind his back, acting like a lonely, invincible Dugu Qiubai², was the son of the Duke of Wu. Dressed in white robes, his movements were graceful like a swimming dragon³. He was handsome and had an extraordinary air about him—a dashing young gentleman whose martial arts were indeed quite good.

“Do you recognize the person on stage?” Jiang Yao turned her head to ask Song Muyun.

Song Muyun looked carefully and nodded gently. “I’ve seen him a few times.”

This man had once gone to her home to propose marriage, but there was no need to mention that.

“Are you close?”

“Not close.”

“Good, then I’m going up.”

Jiang Yao stood up as she spoke. Song Muyun stood up with her, frowning. “I’ve heard his martial arts are good. Be careful.”

“I know.”

Jiang Yao flew onto the stage in a few steps. She picked a sword from the weapon rack nearby and pointed it horizontally at Wu Yan, her beautiful face full of indifference. “Young Master Wu, after you?”

Wu Yan paused slightly, instinctively looking down below the stage—but he was looking at Song Muyun.

Jiang Yao frowned slightly, displeased. She followed his gaze and found that Song Muyun was looking at her. Only then did her displeasure fade a little. She spun the sword in her hand into a beautiful flourish, pointed it at Wu Yan, and spoke coldly, “Draw your sword.”

“Then, pardon my offense.”

Wu Yan retracted his gaze, cupped his hands toward Jiang Yao with a complicated expression, and finally raised his sword. He charged toward her, and the two became locked in combat.

Perhaps the Emperor was getting old and his eyesight wasn’t what it used to be. He squinted for a good while before asking the eunuch beside him, “The ones on stage, are they the Jiang family’s girl and the Wu family’s boy?”

The eunuch smiled and flattered blindly, “Yes, Your Majesty has good eyes.”

Jiang Yao had originally intended to just spar a bit, but right now, her goal wasn’t practice.

Wu Yan thrust his sword toward her. She dodged it, but then suddenly pulled two darts from her waist and flung them out.

Wu Yan’s pupils shrank instantly. He immediately leaped away to dodge. The two darts naturally flew off the stage, whizzing straight past the arm of a certain prince who hadn’t reacted in time.

The crowd went into an uproar. Jiang Yao seemed to jump in fright as well. She hurriedly leaped off the stage and rushed toward the prince, grabbing the arm he was trying desperately to hide behind his back. Her thumb pressed down on a certain spot, and seeing the prince reveal a look of pain, a dark glint flashed through her eyes. She cried out in alarm, “Apologies, Your Highness! This subject didn’t mean to! Let this subject see your arm, is it injured?”

The Eighth Prince was still recovering from injuries and hadn’t come. Next to the Ninth Prince sat the Seventh Prince. The Seventh Prince had already started frowning, demanding to know what crime she should be charged with for assassinating a prince. Jiang Yao knew perfectly well she hadn’t hit the Ninth Prince, so she ignored him completely. Her dismissive attitude infuriated Murong Qing so much he trembled all over, but seeing more and more people looking over, he had to maintain his reputation as a refined and gentle gentleman, so he held his tongue.

On the high platform, the Emperor was also startled, frowning deeply. How could this Jiang family girl be so careless, using hidden weapons?

“It’s fine, I’m not really hurt.”

The prince looked very nervous, his face turning pale again. He tried hard to snatch his arm back, but Jiang Yao acted exceptionally anxious. In her “carelessness,” she ripped the sleeve right off the prince’s arm.

Gasps from women rang out around them. Most women averted their eyes, daring not to look at the Ninth Prince. Jiang Yao narrowed her eyes and looked. She saw his arm was wrapped in a layer of snow-white cloth, with red seeping slightly outward. The location was roughly where her arrow had struck him before.

Jiang Zhi, wearing armor, walked over at this moment. He frowned and asked in a gruff voice, “How is your aim so bad? You need to practice properly when we get back. Did you hurt the Ninth Prince?”

Then he saw the blood-seeped gauze on the prince’s right arm. Meeting Jiang Yao’s eyes, he reacted instantly, shouting loudly, “Ninth Prince, why do you have an injury? This subject hasn’t heard of you getting injured recently. Did you encounter an assassin?”

The Ninth Prince’s face grew even paler. Jiang Yao felt he was about to faint.

The Emperor frowned from above and sent the eunuch by his side to ask if the Ninth Prince had been wounded.

A moment later, the eunuch returned, his expression grave. He whispered in the Emperor’s ear, “The Ninth Prince has an arrow wound on his body.”

Everyone knew that one of the assassins who tried to kill the Eighth Prince that day had been shot in the arm by Jiang Yao. The Longhu General had even investigated the temporary palace several times because of it.

Except for a few princes, concubines, and the Emperor, everyone had been checked.

The Emperor suddenly stood up, his expression cold. “Are you saying Jin’er⁴ has an arrow wound?”

Princes were born noble. If he suffered an arrow wound, how could he hide it and not report it? Unless… the source of that arrow wound was something that could not be seen by the light of day!

“Did Jiang Yao aggravate Jin’er’s wound?”

The eunuch lowered his eyes, his demeanor respectful. “This slave observed there seemed to be no new injury. It was Miss Jiang who stripped away the cloth wrapping the Ninth Prince’s arrow wound.”

Jiang Yao had feigned anxiety moments ago, saying she wanted to see how the Ninth Prince’s injury was, and forcibly stripped the cloth binding his wound, exposing the sinister arrow scar to the public, causing several people to gasp in shock.

Jiang Yao also seemed extremely surprised. “Ninth Highness, this arrow wound on your body… how did you get it?”

Murong Jin’s face was ashen, cold sweat beading on his forehead. He couldn’t say a word. Finally, the eunuch by the Emperor’s side came again to invite him to answer questions before the Emperor.

Jiang Yao and Jiang Zhi exchanged a glance, confirming something with each other, and then Jiang Zhi followed the eunuch away.

Jiang Yao straightened up, her face still masking her “guilt.” She spoke to the crowd, “Apologies, my hand slipped just now. Did I startle you all?”

Those people looked at Jiang Yao with complicated expressions. Seeing her looking at them, they hurriedly shook their heads. “No, no matter. It’s good that Miss Jiang didn’t hurt her hand.”

Hell no. Jiang Yao actually dared to put her hands on a prince, ignoring the grand defense between men and women. Terrifying, absolutely terrifying.

Song Muyun had been standing outside watching. Now that the Ninth Prince had been taken away, she walked over, took Jiang Yao’s hand, and frowned while examining it closely.

She had practiced martial arts for over ten years; how could throwing a dart cut her own hand? But her little ancestor couldn’t rest easy, always thinking she was hurt. Checking finger by finger with such care—it made one’s heart feel extremely warm.

Another gaze filled with venom landed on them. Jiang Yao lifted her eyes slightly and sure enough, she saw Murong Qing looking at them.

Envious? Jealous? You deserve it, you fat rat in the gutter⁵.

Jiang Yao held the young girl’s slender, jade-like hand in return. She turned to look at Wu Yan, who was standing dazedly to the side, her voice softening a little. “Young Master Wu, apologies. I fought so freely just now that I nearly forgot we were merely comparing notes and used hidden weapons. Fortunately, I didn’t hurt you. I hope you won’t take offense.”

Wu Yan looked at Song Muyun, who stood beside Jiang Yao holding hands in a very intimate posture. Thinking of the rumors in the capital about the two of them grinding mirrors⁶, he felt somewhat dazed. Only when Jiang Yao frowned and called his name again did he snap back to reality. He cupped his hands and said, “Miss Jiang speaks too heavily. I don’t mind.”

Besides, those darts… seemed like they weren’t aimed at me from the start.

“That’s good.”

Jiang Yao relaxed her brow and turned to ask Song Muyun, “Shall we go back? Go back and rest a bit.”

Song Muyun gave a hum of agreement, and they left under the gazes of many people.

By the end of the tournament, the Emperor had long since left, taking the injured Ninth Prince with him. Only Murong Qing was left there in regret. If I had known earlier, I would have pushed the blame onto Murong Jin. That way, Father Emperor wouldn’t suspect me too much.

In the following days, Jiang Yao did not see the Ninth Prince again. Even the Emperor didn’t appear; rumor had it he had fallen ill, likely angered by someone.

This accelerated their pace of returning to the capital.

Soon, the day to return arrived.

Jiang Huai shared a carriage with the two young ladies. Song Muyun wouldn’t allow Jiang Yao to ride a horse, insisting she accompany her inside the carriage.

Jiang Yao had no choice. Naturally, she had to listen to her domesticated little ancestor. She dismounted and ducked into the carriage, where Jiang Huai was engaging in a staring contest with Jiang Ru.

“You guys are happy every day, but no one cares if I live or die!”

“What now? How are we not caring if you live or die? Aren’t you playing by yourself just fine?”

Two people were already sitting on one side. Jiang Yao thought about sitting next to Jiang Huai, but unexpectedly, she received a look from Song Muyun that was neither light nor heavy.

Without hesitating for long, she got up and went over to Song Muyun.

Sitting beside her, she reached out to touch her hand. It was a bit cold, so she tucked it into her bosom to warm it.

Jiang Huai spoke with indignant anger, “None of you care about me! I competed with that guy surnamed Lin and even won. Surnamed Lin agreed that if I won, he’d call me Daddy. But he actually went back on his word! I wanted to force him to say it, but then his older brother came. And you? If you had come over, his brother definitely wouldn’t have dared to say anything to me! He would have had to obediently call me Daddy!”

Jiang Huai counted as a minor silk-pants dandy in the capital. Usually, he didn’t rely on his sister to commit violence⁷, so people thought he had a bad relationship with his sister, daring to argue with him verbally.

Jiang Yao was surprised. “But you didn’t come to tell me.”

“How could I tell you? You were busy keeping company with this… this sister whose name I forget. Where would you have the time to listen to me!”

Jiang Huai had been stifled for a long time. Now that it was just their family, he finally had to vent.

Jiang Ru persuaded, “Don’t be angry, Jiang Huai. We didn’t know about this matter. But making someone call you… is indeed very rude. You didn’t birth him or raise him; how could you do that?”

Jiang Huai was mad with rage. “If I had lost, he would have made me call him Daddy too!”

“Alright, alright, I got it. But you still have to blame your own lack of skill. You couldn’t even beat his brother. Who was his brother again?” Jiang Yao leaned on Song Muyun’s shoulder and asked him lazily.

Jiang Huai, lacking in skill, said sullenly, “Lin Shanwei⁸. His brother.”

…

“This family names their children interestingly.”

“Never heard of that name. His martial arts are probably nothing special. When you get back, you’ll follow me to practice martial arts every day. You dare to be a dandy without any real strength?”

Jiang Yao considered herself a dandy too, but she was different from Jiang Huai. Whoever came at her, she would beat them up.

“Okay, you guys practice martial arts, I’ll make pastries for you.”

Song Muyun’s voice was gentle as she tucked a stray strand of hair from Jiang Yao’s forehead behind her ear, her eyes full of tender affection.

Jiang Yao raised an eyebrow. “You know how to make pastries? Then I must have a good taste.”

She hadn’t eaten pastries made by Song Muyun before.

“The taste is very ordinary,” Song Muyun said modestly, blushing.

“I’ll eat it even if the taste is ordinary. Who told you to be the one making it?”

Jiang Yao blurted it out without thinking.

Song Muyun’s cheeks became even pinker. She lowered her head slightly, grabbing Jiang Yao’s hand and shaking it coquettishly.

Jiang Yao’s heart softened at this motion, and she felt inexplicably flustered. Ever since discovering she might like Song Muyun, she loved coaxing her more and more. Some words she was eager to say were said… perhaps a bit inappropriately.

But she looked very happy.

Whatever. As long as Muyun doesn’t dislike me, what does it matter if I say these sweet words to coax her and make her happy?

Just between close friends.

Jiang Ru was already quite accustomed to this, but Jiang Huai’s eyes widened. He had never seen his own sister like this. In this moment, he truly felt that when his classmates said his sister was grinding mirrors, they weren’t mocking him—they might have just been stating a fact.

But… with Sister like this, will Father agree?

Thinking of their old-fashioned father who wore a stern face all day, Jiang Huai shuddered, feeling that if this were true, his sister might be in danger.

Jiang Yao looked up and saw the look of lingering fear on Jiang Huai’s face. She paused, not saying anything, but thought to herself, Is there something wrong with Jiang Huai?

The carriage bumped along. It had rained, making the road difficult to travel. They didn’t arrive in the capital until the afternoon. The Emperor was ill and hadn’t appeared. The Ninth Prince was stripped of his position in the court as soon as he returned to the capital and was confined to the Prince’s Residence. Rumor had it his mother, the Consort, knelt outside the Imperial Study begging the Emperor for a long time, but there was still no turn for the better.

Jiang Yao went to see Murong Ci.

Murong Ci smiled very happily—the kind where her eyes almost disappeared.

She said Murong Jin had always acted respectful and polite toward them. She never thought Murong Jin would do such a thing. He pretended too well; no one imagined this “good brother” had such precise archery skills, wanting her life with a single shot.

“Thanks to you this time, otherwise I would have been injured for nothing.”

Murong Chun was already loathed by the Emperor; adding another crime to him was useless. Fortunately, there was Jiang Yao, who pulled out Murong Jin from where he was hiding in the shadows.

“Mmn, heal well. We can talk about other things after you recover. By the way, I can’t speak much in court. For the Song family’s case, I still have to ask for your help.”

Murong Ci knew that Jiang Yao helping her so much was mostly for the Song family. She let out a long sigh and suddenly asked, “You care so much about the Song family’s affairs. Could it be you have intentions toward Miss Song?”

Jiang Yao froze. Thanks to reading storybooks all year round, she understood Murong Ci’s words.

She shook her head and said angrily, “What kind of person do you take me for? Would I demand repayment for gratitude? The Song family was wronged to begin with. This young miss is kind-hearted and can’t bear to see people wrongly accused. I don’t have those kinds of dirty thoughts.”

That’s the kind of thing only a villain like Murong Qing would do, okay?!

Seeing her misunderstanding, Murong Ci hurriedly shook her head. “I didn’t mean that. I just wanted to ask if you admire Song Muyun?”

Jiang Yao: …

Jiang Yao could lie, but on this matter, she wasn’t good at it.

“I’ve wanted to ask since earlier. You treat Miss Song so well. The way you interact is very much like a pair of lovers.”

It wasn’t just her; Jiang Ru thought so too, and had secretly asked her about her thoughts.

Her thought was that Jiang Ru was right.

Jiang Yao’s movements were slightly stiff.

Fortunately, only they were in the room during their conversation, so only they heard these words.

After a moment, she seemed to calm down, and her expression finally turned cool. “What are you saying? Muyun only treats me as a close friend.”

Don’t these elegant young ladies hate martial artists the most? Thinking them crude and uncouth.

Unfortunately, my crudeness will probably be hard to correct for half a lifetime.

If she had to spend a lifetime with me, who knows if the little girl would worry until she cried.

Thinking of her, Jiang Yao couldn’t help but chuckle softly. The coldness faded, leaving her features soft and gentle.

Since when did I feel happy just thinking about Song Muyun?

Murong Ci looked at Jiang Yao with a complicated gaze. As a prince who spent every day trying to figure out the Emperor’s will, she could naturally understand the meaning behind that sentence. Miss Song only treated her as a close friend… but what about her? In her heart, did she treat Miss Song as a close friend?

Definitely not. She had never seen anyone go to such lengths for a “close friend.” When out and about, she even carefully checked her clothes, terrified that if they weren’t warm enough, the person would freeze. Every time, she coaxed her with meticulous care, like spoiling a treasure.

However, in her eyes, Song Muyun might not necessarily lack feelings for Jiang Yao. They always stood very close, but mostly it wasn’t Jiang Yao initiating it—it was that Miss Song.

She always inadvertently approached Jiang Yao, then lowered her head to hold Jiang Yao’s hand. Occasionally, the gaze she cast toward Murong Ci carried hostility, as if afraid she would snatch away her treasure.

Murong Ci was extremely good at reading people; naturally, she guessed that Song Muyun had misunderstood something.

She intended to push the boat with the current for this pair of lovers, so she asked, “How do you know Miss Song has no interest in you? Why not go back and ask her?”

Jiang Yao looked up in surprise, looking at Murong Ci like she was looking at a madman. “Are you crazy? How could Muyun be interested in me? And I should go ask her?”

Isn’t that just lacking self-awareness?

If I ask and the little girl gets angry, she’s very hard to coax! She might even kick me out of bed tonight.

Jiang Yao was helpless and disgusted. “Don’t you harm me.”

Murong Ci: …

“Then have you never asked what kind of person Miss Song likes?”

Jiang Yao was impatient. “What kind of person she likes is her business. Why would I ask that? It’s so offensive to her.”

Murong Ci: …

“But aren’t you going to find a good family for Miss Song? If you don’t know what kind she likes, how will you search? What if she doesn’t like the one you find?”

Jiang Yao paused. In this moment, she felt Murong Ci finally made some sense.

Indeed, if I don’t know what kind Muyun likes, how can I find someone who can love and pamper her for a lifetime?

Jiang Yao suddenly straightened her expression. “What you say has some reason. I’ll go back and ask her. You heal well, and don’t forget what you promised me.”

She didn’t forget to remind Murong Ci before leaving. As soon as she finished speaking, she left. In the blink of an eye, her figure couldn’t even be seen.

Murong Ci was stunned for a moment, then laughed. Eldest Miss Jiang had a true nature; getting along with her was much more comfortable than with those brothers of hers.

Jiang Yao rode her horse from the Eighth Prince’s residence back to the Jiang Residence. From a distance, she saw a cold, solitary figure standing at the gate, dressed in white, slender in form, wearing the fluffy white cloak she had requested. On her head, she wore only a single pearl Buyao⁹. Simple and elegant, yet still beautiful. People came and went outside the residence, always glancing at her, but her expression remained cold—until she heard the sound of hooves and instinctively looked back to see Jiang Yao riding toward her.

The coldness on her face melted instantly, and the corners of her mouth lifted high.

Jiang Yao saw her and quickly reined in the horse, stopping it to the side. Then she dismounted with a clean spin. The servant guarding the door hurried over to lead the horse away. When Song Muyun saw her, that heart which had been beating steadily suddenly began to race, almost jumping out of her chest.

The little girl was clearly very happy, calling out to her, “Jiang Yao!”

Then she got up and ran toward her.

Even when running, a beauty was extremely graceful and lovely. She carefully pinched the hem of her skirt and threw herself into Jiang Yao’s arms, hugged tightly by Jiang Yao.

There was laughter in Jiang Yao’s voice. “What are you running for? Couldn’t you stand obediently and wait for me to come to you?”

In a daze, Song Muyun’s nose rubbed against Jiang Yao’s face. She didn’t shy away, continuing to rub lightly one time after another, like a clingy little cub. Her voice was muffled to the extreme. “I wanted to hug you sooner.”

Jiang Yao’s body went stiff abruptly. This sentence wasn’t right. They were just close friends; why would Muyun say something like this?

It was intimate… as if they were true lovers.

Her movements almost frozen, she patted Song Muyun’s back. When the little girl had hugged enough and buried her face enough, she finally looked up. Her hands still hugged Jiang Yao’s waist as she looked into her eyes. “Jiang Yao, where did you go today? I took a nap and when I woke up, you were gone.”

There was some unhappiness in her tone.

Jiang Yao pursed her lips. A moment later, recovering, she patted her back to signal her to let go, then led her into the residence. As they walked, she explained, “I went to see the Eighth Prince. I had matters to discuss with her. Seeing you were sleeping soundly, I didn’t wake you.”

“You went to see the Eighth Prince alone?”

Song Muyun’s expression changed drastically. Jiang Yao still hadn’t noticed anything wrong. “Yeah, I just went to check on her. Her injury should be mostly healed—OW! Why did you pinch me?!!”

Jiang Yao was shocked, eyes glistening with tears. Damn, that actually hurt.

Not only was she pinched, but the hand that had been held so nicely was thrown away in an instant. Song Muyun walked away with a cold face. Jiang Yao hurriedly chased after her, her tone heavy. “My ancestor, what’s wrong now? Can you tell me?”

She had a vague premonition that she would have to coax her for a long time again.

Song Muyun turned her head to glare at her, looking displeased. “You are not allowed to go see the Eighth Prince alone.”

Both of them had started from not knowing each other at all and slowly groped their way here. Now, Song Muyun had finally learned to speak directly if she was unhappy. Anyway, Jiang Yao wouldn’t think she was being unreasonable and would agree to anything just to coax her. This was called relying on favor to become spoiled¹⁰.

If she kept it stifled in her heart and didn’t speak, that would leave Jiang Yao clueless on how to start, and the more she tried to coax, the angrier Song Muyun would get.

Jiang Yao hadn’t expected her to be unhappy about this. Her mouth moved as she explained, “I only went alone because you were asleep. You slept late last night; I was afraid of disturbing you.”

“Then couldn’t you wait for me to wake up before going to see the Eighth Prince? Is seeing him so important that you can’t wait even a moment?”

Song Muyun couldn’t deny it—she was extremely jealous. She didn’t want Jiang Yao to see the Eighth Prince, especially alone.

And yet… Jiang Yao treated the Eighth Prince very well.

The little girl held her breath in her chest, secretly glaring at Jiang Yao.

Jiang Yao pretended not to notice as she raised her hand to rub Song Muyun’s head, suddenly asking, “Muyun, why do you dislike the Eighth Prince?”

Getting angry repeatedly because of the Eighth Prince counted as dislike.

Song Muyun said sullenly, “Don’t worry about that. Anyway, you have to promise me, no seeking him out alone.”

There was no sound from her side for a long time. Song Muyun’s heart was suspended in her throat. After a good while, Jiang Yao finally spoke. “Okay, I’ll listen to everything you say.”

Song Muyun only held her hand, so naturally, she didn’t know how fast Jiang Yao’s heart was beating.

Thump after thump, deafening.

She seems to forbid me specifically from seeing Murong Ci. Why is that?

With things like this, telling me not to overthink it is really a bit difficult.

Could it be possible, truly as Murong Ci said, that Muyun has some feelings for me too?

This is hard to say.

Jiang Yao tightened her grip on Song Muyun’s hand until Song Muyun gave a soft cry, complaining, “Why use so much strength? You hurt me.”

She hurriedly let go, cradling that slender, jade-like hand. There were faint red marks on the back of the hand where she had squeezed.

The two happened to walk by the pond. Wind blew from across the water, ruffling the stray hairs on Jiang Yao’s forehead, revealing her tightly furrowed brows. “How is your skin so tender? It’s red already.”

She held that hand and blew gently on it twice. Song Muyun let her act as if facing a formidable enemy, revealing a somewhat distressed expression.

This made her feel that she was being cherished and pampered by Jiang Yao.

Song Muyun said softly, “Then you just be a little gentler.”

Jiang Yao was helpless. When she wasn’t holding it, that hand was cold as winter spring water. When she held it, it was like fragile porcelain; she couldn’t use even a bit of strength.

“I know, I know. So delicate.”

She said.

Song Muyun turned her head to look elsewhere, ignoring her preaching.

In Hengwu Courtyard, Jiang Huai was already waiting.

Ever since Jiang Huai cried about being bullied, Jiang Yao had been forcing him to practice martial arts every day. Under the suppression of martial force, now he would come over himself without Jiang Yao opening her mouth to call him.

“Find a place out of the wind to sit. I’ll go test the results of Jiang Huai’s sword practice over the last two days.”

After Jiang Yao spoke, she gently patted Song Muyun’s soft, slender waist.

She just loved patting that spot. Song Muyun glared at her coquettishly, then obediently moved a small stool to sit by the door.

Jiang Huai was still pulling weeds in the courtyard. Seeing his sister settle her “Sister Song” before picking up a sword and coming over, he shouted loudly, “Sis, what you taught is useless! How come I still can’t beat them?”

“Shut up. That’s because your comprehension is low. Can’t you have some patience and practice for a few more days? You just practiced a few moves and want to go out and cause trouble? Don’t come back with your legs broken by someone one day.”

Jiang Yao was very disdainful of her useless brother who couldn’t do anything right.

Jiang Huai curled his lip, wanting to defend himself, but knowing his sister was so fierce she definitely wouldn’t listen, he simply lifted his sword. “Fine, fine, fine. Then teach me a few useful moves so I don’t get my legs broken.”

“Watch closely.”

Jiang Yao casually spun a sharp sword flourish. In a few breaths, she demonstrated a sword set for Jiang Huai.

Jiang Huai’s gaze gradually went from fiery to dead as ash. Couldn’t see it. Couldn’t see it at all!

“Can’t you just teach me a boxing set? How can I use this stuff in a fight?”

Upon Jiang Huai’s strong request, Jiang Yao finally picked the simplest set from the few boxing styles she had learned to teach him.

Most of the boxing she practiced required a lot of strength. With Jiang Huai, this white-cut chicken¹¹…

Jiang Yao looked his scrawny figure up and down, still feeling rather disdainful.

This boxing set was light in movement. Beating up those with low martial arts skills would still be quite easy.

She taught Jiang Huai the first form first, then sent him off to the side to practice. With a sheen of fine sweat on her forehead, she walked to the small stool beside Song Muyun and sat down.

Song Muyun hadn’t just moved a small stool for herself; she had moved one for Jiang Yao too. But not for Jiang Huai.

“You’re sweating from exhaustion. Let me wipe it for you.”

Song Muyun pulled a handkerchief from her bosom, leaned in, and placed it on Jiang Yao’s forehead, wiping carefully.

Jiang Yao closed her eyes to enjoy it. The tip of her nose was filled with a familiar feminine fragrance, very pleasant.

She had once thought that whoever married Muyun would truly be blessed. Muyun was so good—gentle, virtuous, and she really knew how to act coquettishly.

Jiang Huai only roughly finished practicing the first move before being kicked out of Hengwu Courtyard by Jiang Yao. The sky had darkened a bit. They had dinner in their own quarters. The new courtyard had been repaired by the time they returned, and Jiang Ru had moved to live in the new courtyard. Now, in Hengwu Courtyard, only Jiang Yao and Song Muyun lived.

After the meal, a maidservant brought a bowl of pitch-black medicine. After curtsying, she handed it to Song Muyun. “Miss Muyun, this is your medicine for tonight.”

“Thank you for your trouble.”

Song Muyun said in a low voice.

The maidservant curtsied and withdrew. Naturally, she didn’t see Miss Muyun, who had been somewhat dignified just a moment ago, turn her head to whine to her mistress, saying how bitter this medicine was—no human could drink it.

When they first met, she never complained about the medicine being bitter. She had been raised to be increasingly delicate, but this was raised by Jiang Yao personally; this was exactly the goal she wanted.

Jiang Yao looked at Song Muyun rather helplessly, frowning deeply, and feeling guilty. “The medicine is bitter? Ah, I forgot to buy you candied fruit on the way back. This…”

The candied fruit at home was finished. Jiang Yao had promised to buy her some, but with all the back and forth, she had actually forgotten.

Thinking of the candied fruit, she naturally thought of her trip to the Eighth Prince’s residence that afternoon, and the words the Eighth Prince had said to her. She had forgotten to ask about that too.

Jiang Yao pursed her lips lightly. Before she could organize her words, Song Muyun had already let go of her hand, her brow filled with deep disappointment. “You didn’t take me with you, went to find the Eighth Prince by yourself, that’s one thing. You had such fun with him, did you not even remember to buy me candied fruit?”

Hearing the depression in her voice, Jiang Yao’s heart tightened. She immediately wanted to defend herself with a sentence or two, but Song Muyun clutched her handkerchief, eyes full of sadness. She turned to leave. In her desperation, Jiang Yao called out to her, “Muyun!”

Song Muyun took only two steps before stopping silently, lowering her head and saying nothing. Jiang Yao’s lips moved. After a long while, she said, “Come over and drink the medicine before you go.”

Song Muyun: …

Jiang Yao is truly… oil and salt do not enter¹²!

“You didn’t even buy me candied fruit, how can I drink it!”

The little girl was extremely unhappy, but despite her complaining, her hand still obediently picked up the medicinal soup and drank it.

It was so bitter her brows knitted tight, so she didn’t pause even once, drinking it all in one breath. When she swallowed the last mouthful, the mist in the bottom of her eyes blurred her beautiful pair of eyes.

It was so bitter she couldn’t speak.

Jiang Yao put an arm around her, wanting to coax her, but she huffed angrily and swatted Jiang Yao’s hand away, ignoring her.

“Okay, okay, okay. Even if you want to be angry, soak your feet first before getting angry, alright? I’ll go buy you candied fruit tomorrow. I’ll take you with me to buy it, okay?”

“I don’t believe you. Maybe you’re lying to me again.”

Jiang Yao was leaning against the window telling the maid to bring the foot-soaking herbal water. Hearing this, she straightened up, her smile growing more helpless. “I really wouldn’t dare lie to you, Ancestor. Tomorrow I’ll take you to Baiyu Workshop to buy pastries too, okay?”

Song Muyun gave a soft humph. She didn’t say yes, nor did she say no.

Jiang Yao took it as her agreeing. When the maid brought the foot-washing water, she patted her back and told her to go wash. She followed behind her, taking off her shoes and socks to wash with her.

This was her request. She wanted the two of them to wash together. She was becoming more and more clingy, feeling lonely even washing her feet alone.

The woman’s beautiful, snow-white jade feet lowered into the pitch-black medicinal water. The toes, originally frozen stiff and numb, gradually warmed up, stained with some heat. They touched Jiang Yao’s feet, secretly kicking her as if in anger.

Jiang Yao saw all these little movements and didn’t fuss over them. If their relationship were closer… for example… if they were truly in that kind of relationship, she would definitely grab the young girl’s wandering feet and teach her a lesson.

“Tomorrow I want to eat Tanghulu¹³ too.”

Song Muyun looked up with her beautiful eyes and demanded.

This meant she really wasn’t angry anymore.

Jiang Yao nodded. “Mmn, I’ll buy it for you.”

“Alright, I forgive you. Your birthday is coming soon; what gift do you want?”

So forgiveness can be bought with a single stick of Tanghulu.

Jiang Yao shook her head, somewhat helpless, but still coaxed her. “Anything is fine. As long as it’s sent by you, I’ll like it.”

This was the truth. Whatever Song Muyun gave was good; she would like it all.

“Okay, then I’ll give it to you when the time comes. You’re not allowed to dislike it.”

“How could I dislike it? Just thinking that it’s from you, I won’t dislike it.”

You sure know how to talk.

Song Muyun thought to herself, the corners of her lips hooking up slightly. She lowered her head to hide it, appearing somewhat obedient and soft again.

Jiang Yao narrowed her eyes. Seeing her mood improve, she finally seized the opportunity to ask, “Muyun, what kind of man do you like?”

Song Muyun’s happy water-playing movements paused. Her brow turned cold. She lifted her eyes to look at her, her voice carrying an inexplicable danger. “Why ask this?”

Jiang Yao’s skin tightened all over. She coughed lightly twice and explained, “You… your age is about right. If there’s a type of man you like, just tell me. I can definitely find one that suits your heart, alright?”

Song Muyun’s beautiful eyes narrowed slightly. Her heart was about to explode with rage, but she had to maintain calmness on her face. Her voice suddenly turned half a degree colder. “You think I’m a burden and want to marry me off early?”

How did she get that idea?

Jiang Yao shuddered all over, her spirit jolted. She immediately denied it. “Naturally not! How could I think you’re a burden! I just wanted to ask you, that’s all. If you don’t want to marry, that’s fine too. If you don’t want to marry, I’ll raise you for a lifetime.”

It was just… there were no noble young ladies in the capital who didn’t marry. She hadn’t reacted in time.

But if Song Muyun really didn’t want to marry, naturally she was willing to keep raising her. She would be happy to raise her for however long.

Song Muyun only took these words as sweet talk. What she thought was: She actually thinks I’m annoying? She wants to throw me to someone else, doesn’t she?

“You don’t need to say more. If you find me troublesome, I will leave myself. You don’t need to chase me away like this.”

Her voice grew colder and colder, her face freezing over like the winter wind chilling into one’s bone marrow.

Jiang Yao wanted to explain. She instinctively reached out to pull her but grabbed empty air. Song Muyun dried her feet with a cold face, climbed into bed, and turned her back to Jiang Yao.

She hurriedly dried her own feet and was about to chase after her to coax her. Just as she sat on the bed, Song Muyun sat up from the bed and looked at her coldly. “What, I can’t even sleep in the bed now? Fine, then I’ll go.”

Jiang Yao: ???

No, Baby, what are you talking about? What did I say?

Seeing the person really about to leave, she hurriedly opened her arms to block her, pouncing and tackling the person onto the bed.

The little ancestor was soft all over. Being tackled onto the bed by her, she seemed to have no bones at all. Her slightly red, beautiful eyes looked elsewhere, refusing to look at her at all, using this to express her resistance.

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The author has something to say:

Showdown tomorrow! Falling in love! Originally I was going to write it today, but it’s too late. According to my habit, falling in love has to be followed by—two thousand words of hugging and cuddling. It has to be in the same chapter to have the right feeling, so I really couldn’t finish writing it. Saving it for tomorrow QAQ

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