Forbidden to Bully the Storybook’s Heroine – Chapter 73

The Seventh Prince and Li Xiting

Song Muyun was paying close attention to court affairs, asking Jiang Yao almost every day if anything major had happened.

Jiang Yao was a profligate scion;¹ she knew jack shit.² So she had no choice but to go ask her dad every day.

Her dad’s head throbbed from her pestering; he was one step away from posting a sign on his study door: “No Jiang Yao or dogs allowed.”

The case dragged on with no news of progress. Jiang Heng always told Jiang Yao to go home and wait, not to be anxious. How could he know that the one who was truly anxious wasn’t Jiang Yao, but Song Muyun?

After all, that little lady was just so well-behaved.

Returning once again with a long face, Jiang Yao saw Song Muyun standing at the courtyard gate, looking out for her. The moment she spotted Jiang Yao, her eyes lit up. “Jiang Yao.”

She called out, her voice bright, then fluttered to Jiang Yao’s side like a butterfly. “What did the Prime Minister say? Has there been any progress on the case?”

She was truly desperate, so much so that she wished she could sneak into the Prince’s Residence at night and assassinate Murong Qing herself.

I’ve already died once. My life isn’t that precious.

But…

Song Muyun glanced at the person beside her, whose arm was wrapped around her waist, gently telling her not to worry.

I should wait a little longer. The Prime Minister is a good official; he’ll help me. It doesn’t matter if I die, but Jiang Yao has done so much for that other me, treated her so well. If I died, Jiang Yao would surely be devastated.

She couldn’t be too impulsive.

“There should be some progress in a few days,” Jiang Yao said, rubbing Song Muyun’s head. “Father hinted at it. Some things can’t be revealed just yet. Can you wait a little longer, okay?”

Song Muyun was preoccupied with thoughts of the Song family and didn’t stop her, appearing particularly docile in that moment.

She didn’t want to be so anxious either; she just couldn’t bear to see Murong Qing living such a carefree life.

On what grounds had the Song family fallen while Murong Qing got to remain a lofty, untouchable prince?

That day, seeing her Ancestor³ with a worried frown,⁴ Jiang Yao’s heart ached. She took the initiative and suggested they go for a walk.

Although her Ancestor was gloomy and preoccupied with clearing the Song family’s name, she didn’t refuse Jiang Yao’s offer. She only told her not to hug and cling to her in public, lest she be embarrassed.

Jiang Yao was thick-skinned and didn’t see anything embarrassing about it, but since the request had been made, she could only droop her eyes and agree.

The two went out without a carriage, simply strolling down the street to clear their minds, just like they used to.

A flurry of images flashed through Song Muyun’s mind again—all of Jiang Yao and that other her, out shopping together. The other her would be in front, smiling sweetly, while Jiang Yao followed helplessly behind.

They had shared so many beautiful memories.

The more time she spent with Jiang Yao, the more she couldn’t help but feel jealous. Why does she get to have someone like this protecting her, but I don’t?

Why…

Aren’t we the same person?

Song Muyun felt a sense of imbalance. Sometimes, she would even find Jiang Yao irritating and would deliberately get angry just to make Jiang Yao coax her. Jiang Yao’s temper was incredibly good, even better than in her dreams. She always indulged her, using anything and everything to make her happy. Whatever she wanted, Jiang Yao would give it to her.

“Xiao Yun’er, want some tanghulu?”⁵

Jiang Yao suddenly called out to her. Song Muyun looked up to see that she had already plucked a string of bright red tanghulu from a vendor’s rack and was paying for it.

Song Muyun walked over and gave her a little nudge. “I didn’t even say I wanted any, and you just went and bought it.”

“If you want to eat it, you eat it. If you don’t, I will.”

She was using that incredibly doting tone with her again. Song Muyun was momentarily lost in a daze. It wasn’t until the stick of tanghulu was pressed into her palm that she looked down at it. After a moment, she said softly, “Don’t you dislike sweets?”

“Mm, that’s true. But you don’t like to be wasteful, either.”

Her little fairy was very particular about this. She never allowed Jiang Yao to be extravagant, and they always had to finish whatever dishes they ordered when they ate out, or else she would get upset.

A warmth spread through Song Muyun’s heart. She could never win an argument against Jiang Yao; she always found herself filled with joy over a simple word or two from her.

“Let’s walk a little further. Tonight, how about I take you to the new Yuanyang Tower⁶ for dinner?”

A new restaurant called Yuanyang Tower had opened in the capital on East Street. Yuanyang, yuanyang—mandarin ducks. One listen and you knew it was a place for young couples.

Even though she and Yun’er are wife-wife, it’s pretty much the same thing. Close enough. In any case, we’re going to spend our whole lives together.

Song Muyun had lived a miserable past life and rarely went out, so she had naturally never heard of this Yuanyang Tower. Hearing the name, her eyes lit up and she immediately agreed. “Okay!”

Jiang Yao reached out to pat her soft head, but Song Muyun dodged away in a huff. One second there was happiness in her eyes, and the next it had turned to complaint. “Don’t mess up my hair bun. It’s not proper for people to see.”

Jiang Yao used to think Jiang Ru was a little traditionalist, but she later discovered that her own wife was one, too.

Always worried about what others would think, always needing to be careful and maintain a dignified posture.

Fine. Jiang Yao obediently retracted her hand and stopped ruffling her hair, but she didn’t take her hand either.

This was because this Eldest Miss, who had always been one to follow one’s heart’s desires,⁷ suddenly remembered her promise not to hug and cling to Song Muyun when they were out.

The current Yun’er isn’t familiar with me yet. It’s not right for me to always be holding her like that. It really could make someone uncomfortable.

Jiang Yao’s expression was placid as she looked ahead.

Seeing this, Song Muyun couldn’t help but feel a little anxious. Is she angry? Just because I wouldn’t let her touch my head?

That’s a bit too petty.

Just as she was hesitating, wondering if she should say a few nice words to Jiang Yao, Jiang Yao spoke. “The pastry shop up ahead is open. I’ll take you to buy some.”

Her girl loved sweets.

With that, Jiang Yao walked on ahead. Song Muyun immediately followed, wanting to say something but not knowing what.

Actually… her hand felt a little empty. Before, it was always held carefully, as if the person holding it was afraid she would get lost.

“What do you want to eat?”

Jiang Yao stopped in front of the pastry shop and turned to ask Song Muyun.

This shop did its business in the evening, so it opened late and at no fixed time. Jiang Yao was the first to see it open and the first to arrive.

“Whatever you want.”

Song Muyun didn’t seem very interested, but she had clearly loved these pastries before.

Jiang Yao frowned slightly and bought a few of her favorites, had them wrapped up, and carried them as they continued to stroll.

The little lady’s mood had inexplicably soured again. Jiang Yao was baffled and could only try to coax her as they walked. “Why are you unhappy? You don’t want pastries?”

Song Muyun remained sullenly silent, her head bowed as she stared at her hands clasped in front of her, refusing to even lift her gaze.

Jiang Yao could only guess. Seeing no response, she tried again. “If you don’t want to eat them, then don’t. I’ll eat them later. And are you still eating that tanghulu or not?”

Song Muyun froze, her expression drooping even further. Great, now even the pastries are gone.

Why is she like this? Couldn’t she have just asked a few more times?

What Song Muyun didn’t say was that in the days since her rebirth, she had long grown accustomed to being held in someone’s arms as they walked.

She was used to Jiang Yao’s warmth, her assertiveness.

She was used to being controlled by her, with no room to struggle.

Because she knew that no matter what, Jiang Yao would never hurt her.

The little lady pressed her thin lips together, clutching the tanghulu even tighter. The next second, she heard Jiang Yao say, “If you don’t want to eat the tanghulu, give it to me.”

Song Muyun: …

No way. She suddenly looked up and shot Jiang Yao a glare.

Jiang Yao: …

It’s not like I absolutely have to eat it. If you want it, just say so. Why all this drama?

She held up her hands in surrender, utterly exasperated. “Alright, alright, you want it, right? If you want it, you eat it. It’s not like I’m going to fight you for it. Now, do you want the pastries or not?” Jiang Yao asked again.

Song Muyun didn’t dare to not answer, afraid she really wouldn’t get to eat them. So she kept her head down and mumbled sullenly, “I want them.”

“If you want them, just say so. Would I really not let you have them?”

Jiang Yao raised an eyebrow and walked ahead, carrying the pastries, intending to wander a bit more. But after three or four steps, she heard no movement behind her. When she turned, she saw Muyun still standing in the distance.

She froze, then hurried back to get her. “Why did you stop? Are you tired? I’ll carry… I’ll hire a carriage for you?”

She wouldn’t dare carry her precious baby, who had been raised with such strict decorum since childhood, on her back in the middle of the street. She’d just get glared at again.

Although Song Muyun didn’t want Jiang Yao to carry her, hiring a carriage was too much trouble. She started walking again, humming under her breath, “Who asked you to hire a carriage? I never said I wasn’t walking.”

Jiang Yao was stunned, unsure how her mood had improved again. But at least she was coaxed. She smiled and hurried to catch up, grabbing Song Muyun’s hand. But in the next instant, she let go, saying with a pleasant smile,⁸ “Wait for me, why are you walking so fast…”

Her words trailed off, the rest of them swallowed. Because the moment she had released her grip, a soft, slender hand had immediately chased after hers and taken it. It was a rare show of initiative from the little lady, and the blush on her jade-white earlobes refused to fade.

Jiang Yao instantly understood her “mouth says yes, heart says no”⁹ act.

The two Muyuns were extremely similar in this regard. What they said was always the opposite of what they felt.

Her mouth forbade Jiang Yao from touching her, but her heart desperately wanted it. No wonder she’d been unhappy just now.

Jiang Yao laughed silently to herself but didn’t dare let it show. She pretended not to know and quietly tightened her grip on Muyun’s hand.

The two walked on in unusual peace and harmony. Song Muyun had been tense, afraid Jiang Yao would tease her for taking the initiative to hold her hand, but when she realized Jiang Yao was only holding it tighter and had no intention of speaking, her heart relaxed, and her eyes crinkled in a happy squint.

She said nothing, simply letting Jiang Yao lead her as they wandered.

Jiang Yao felt a sense of pure comfort. The Ancestor by her side wasn’t making a fuss at all, letting her hold her hand and accompanying her for the entire afternoon.

Finally, they reached East Street, where Yuanyang Tower was located. Jiang Yao swung their joined hands and tilted her head slightly. “Shall I take you to dinner?”

But Song Muyun had stopped, her gaze fixed on something not far away. Her voice turned cold. “That’s the Seventh Prince’s carriage.”

???

A surge of jealousy rose in Jiang Yao’s heart—she was so familiar with it she could even recognize the Seventh Prince’s carriage. But the feeling quickly dissipated when she took a closer look and saw not a trace of joy in Muyun’s eyes, only bone-deep hatred.

Two people were alighting from the Seventh Prince’s carriage—the Seventh Prince, Murong Qing, and the young lady of Duke Cheng’s household, Li Xiting.

Li Xiting was quite pretty and looked gentle and harmless. Her cat-like eyes rested shyly on Murong Qing.

Jiang Yao narrowed her eyes. A hand was squeezing hers tightly. Just as she was about to suggest they find another place to eat, Murong Qing and his future Prince’s Consort spotted them.

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The author has something to say:

Murong Qing is about to croak, finally!

So sleepy, will add more tomorrow. Went for a check-up today, nothing serious, just something about a rough gallbladder wall. The doctor said it’s from skipping breakfast… so everyone, please eat a proper breakfast!!!!

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