After Marrying the Villainous Prime Minister in My Brother’s Stead - Chapter 23

23: Ice cream

A warm bed was incredibly comforting. Yan Luo fell asleep almost instantly.

After a night of chaos, Yan Luo woke up the next morning with a slight fever. Gu Que was the first to notice something was wrong. Yan Luo, who usually rose early despite sleeping late, hadn’t woken up even after Gu Que did.

Gu Que peeked over and saw Yan Luo’s flushed cheeks—clearly unwell. Panicked, she scrambled out of bed.

The newlyweds’ quarters had a medicine chest—a red wooden box containing cold medicine and fever reducers. Here, even a common cold could be deadly.

After finding the fever medicine, Gu Que didn’t dare delay. She had hot water prepared.

Yan Luo remained asleep, undisturbed even when Tinglan entered. Gu Que carefully placed a small white pill into Yan Luo’s mouth with some water.

By midday, the servants had gathered under the eaves, tense with worry. Fortunately, Yan Luo swallowed the medicine.

Tinglan asked, “What medicine did you give her?”

“Fever reducer.” Gu Que replied.

Tinglan frowned. “Such a tiny pill can reduce a fever?”

“It can. She’ll be fine after sleeping. Go check on Qiongju. I’ll come over once the fever breaks.” Gu Que pulled up a stool and waited. Last time, the medicine had worked.

Tinglan left uneasily.

Yan Luo didn’t wake. She felt cold, voices murmuring in her ears—Gu Que speaking. She struggled to open her eyes, but the darkness wouldn’t lift.

The little black room had no light. None at all, all day and night.

Darkness was her only friend. Everything else was gone. Her father was dead. Her mother was dead. Her brother was dead. Only she remained alive.

The darkness had let her grow up, no longer so afraid.

The day her brother died, music had played outside. The palace rejoiced. Later, she learned it was for the new emperor’s ascension.

She opened her eyes. Still darkness. Then, sounds came from beyond the door.

For a moment, she crawled toward it like a dog, closing her eyes, straining to hear—anything to learn what was happening outside.

But then, silence.

In the monotony, she fell asleep.

Gu Que waited in the room. Time passed indeterminably before Tinglan ushered in a guest.

The Empress.

Yan Luo’s absence today had been noted. The Ministry of Personnel reported that the Prime Minister was ill, so the Empress had rushed over after court.

Gu Que kept vigil by the bed. The Empress strode in, her gaze landing on Gu Que’s eyes—and froze. Gu Que stood and bowed. “Your Majesty.”

“You’ve been watching over her?” The Empress smiled, hands clasped behind her back as she studied the youth.

The young man wore a light cyan robe, a tiger-shaped sachet at his waist, lips red and teeth white, his face like flawless jade. As he bowed, the Empress’s lips twitched involuntarily. The spring breeze carried warmth, and the little heir grew ever more… adorable.

Gu Que was eighteen. To the Empress, he was just a child.

The Empress stepped forward, her gaze openly lingering on Gu Que’s face, scrutinizing.

Gu Que instinctively retreated, yielding the stool by the bed. “Your Majesty, I’ve only been here a short while.”

“Just a short while?” The Empress studied Gu Que’s bright eyes, fair complexion—that familiar feeling surged again. If Gu Que wore a dress and a veil, would he resemble that maiden even more?

The absurd thought took root, growing wilder. The Empress asked, “When will the Prime Minister wake?”

Gu Que replied, “By noon.”

“That’s quite a while…” The Empress mused, her gaze still lingering on the heir’s face, words teetering on the tip of her tongue.

Gu Que ignored her, lowering her eyes to her own toes.

The room was silent, so quiet a pin drop could be heard.

The Empress sat, her posture unlike Yan Luo’s—more martial, less refined. Gu Que recalled the history books she’d read. The Empress’s father had been the Martial Emperor, a warrior. When the Civil Emperor died, he’d passed the throne to his younger brother, leading to today’s Empress.

Their upbringings must have been vastly different.

As Gu Que pondered history, the Empress studied her sidelong, her gaze deepening, contemplative. The youth’s cheeks were pale, soft-looking, his bowed posture elegant. Overall, he seemed like a child who hadn’t quite grown up.

Gu Que was, in fact, only eighteen—not yet of age. Truly still a child.

After a few more glances, the Empress realized, oddly, that she didn’t dislike the boy. His temperament seemed agreeable. Some young men were inherently irritating, but Gu Que wasn’t one of them.

Unfamiliar with each other, with Yan Luo bedridden, the Empress couldn’t linger. Watching Yan Luo, she considered asking for the young heir next time.

After a while, the Empress rose to leave. Gu Que escorted her out.

They walked along the path, the Empress deliberately slowing her steps. Gu Que had no choice but to match her pace.

“Gu Yan, how has married life been these past days?” The Empress finally voiced the question she’d been mulling over.

As soon as she asked, she found it strange. What did Gu Yan’s marital happiness have to do with her?

Really, she just wanted to know how this young heir—this man—felt about the Prime Minister, a woman who could make infants cry at night.

Among the court’s many men, fewer than five would dare marry Yan Luo. When news of her impending wedding had spread, countless eligible bachelors had sighed in relief, terrified of bringing such a terror home.

Gu Que stopped walking. The midday sun cast a glow on her fair face, making her lips appear even redder against her pale skin.

The Empress stared unabashedly. Under the bright sun, her imperial majesty carried a feminine softness, cold as snow.

Her snow-and-pine aura reminded Gu Que of Yan Luo’s grace, warming her heart like hot milk.

“Your Majesty, the Prime Minister and I get along very well.”

The Empress’s smile turned icy. “You like the Prime Minister?”

Gu Que was taken aback. Did she like Yan Luo?

Of course. Who wouldn’t like a femme fatale?

“I do.” Gu Que replied.

The Empress was dumbfounded. She refused to believe it. “You’ve been married barely a week, and you already like her?”

If men’s words could be trusted, pigs would climb trees.

Gu Que lowered her eyes. “The Prime Minister is my wife. It’s only natural I like her.”

The Empress suddenly understood. The heir liked the role of “wife,” the “daughter-in-law of the Gu family”—not any specific woman.

Men’s minds were truly disgusting. Revolted, she laughed coldly. Yan Luo was blind to have chosen such a man.

“Stop here. I’ll see myself out.” She couldn’t bear to look at him another moment and turned away.

Gu Que was baffled. Why had the Empress stormed off in such a temper?

She didn’t understand the Empress’s thoughts, nor did she care to dwell on them. She hurried back to the bedroom.

Yan Luo was already awake, sitting up in bed reading a letter from the Minister of Justice. Strangely, over a dozen men had confessed, their statements largely consistent—yet none could explain how Zhao Yan had been injured.

One, two, even five people might lie, but over a dozen, all with matching accounts? Yet no one had seen who struck Zhao Yan.

The Minister had agonized all night and sent the letter to the Prime Minister for guidance.

He’d asked the right person. Zhao Yan had been injured by Leng Mian. In the dark, amid the crowd, Leng Mian had struck swiftly—no one had noticed.

Yan Luo set the letter aside, rubbing her temples to ease the ache. Gu Que entered, delighted. “Prime Minister, you’re awake!”

“Did you escort Her Majesty out?” Yan Luo looked up. The figure approaching was tall, clean-cut.

No one else was in the room. Sunlight streamed through the windows, the air faintly fragrant.

The approaching figure was pleasing to the eye, jade robes radiating warmth.

“Her Majesty left in a foul mood. I don’t know how I offended her.” Gu Que frowned, helpless. Her thoughts were simple—she truly couldn’t fathom the Empress’s mind.

She sat on the stool and recounted the earlier events.

Yan Luo leaned against the soft pillows, her fever broken, much more at ease. She smiled slightly. “Her Majesty dislikes men. Pay her no mind.”

“But she was upset.” Gu Que was worried. Here, imperial authority was supreme—one person held power over thousands of lives. She wasn’t cowed by authority, but she valued her life.

Her eyes held fear and concern.

In the cozy atmosphere, Yan Luo gazed at her and laughed. “Upset or not, she’s always upset. Let me tell you—the Empress Dowager wants her to take a royal consort, but she wants an empress. She’s perpetually displeased. Her Majesty was spoiled by the late emperor. She’s willful.”

Gu Que sat stiffly, relaxing slightly at these words. She felt a pang of sympathy for the Empress.

“She dislikes men, yet she stared at me. She even asked why I liked you. So strange.”

“She stared at you?” Yan Luo’s smile faded.

Gu Que nodded, “Yes.” She knew the boundaries between men and women here. She wouldn’t even glance at her half-sisters, yet the Empress had stared at her.

It was improper. Moreover, Yan Luo was the Empress’s childhood companion—a friend. Was it appropriate for the Empress to stare at her friend’s husband?

She was displeased too, but she kept her thoughts to herself. After all, this wasn’t a world of equality.

Yan Luo was also stunned. She knew Gu Que was good-looking, but the Empress should have exercised restraint.

She told Gu Que, “Don’t worry. I’ll speak to Her Majesty this afternoon. What does she mean, staring at my husband?”

Gu Que was dumbstruck. The words “my husband” from Yan Luo’s lips carried a sweet undertone.

Yan Luo prepared to rise. Maids entered to help her dress. Gu Que, dazed, stepped outside, her cheeks warm. The breeze cooled her face, leaving her lightheaded.

She lowered her head slightly, her lips curling involuntarily.

Tinglan sidled up. “Young Master, what are you smiling about?”

“Keep your voice down.” Gu Que nearly clapped a hand over Tinglan’s mouth. But as a “man,” she had to maintain propriety with women—no physical contact.

Tinglan grinned. “You went in and came out smiling. Did the Prime Minister say something amusing?”

“She said…” Gu Que trailed off, the words sticking in her throat. She gave Tinglan a mysterious smile. “I won’t tell you.”

Tinglan’s eyes widened. “You—you’re unkind.”

“I told the kitchen to prepare lotus seed porridge earlier. Go check if it’s ready. The Prime Minister must be hungry.” Gu Que, content to keep her joy to herself, shooed Tinglan away.

Yan Luo ate the porridge and left. Gu Que saw her off, watching her graceful figure—slender yet unyielding—until Leng Mian helped her into the carriage.

With Yan Luo gone, Gu Que returned to her study to tinker with her blueprints.

Yan Luo’s absences weren’t uncommon. In winter, the wind chilled her, bringing fevers. After recovering, she’d return to court.

This time was no exception. She entered the deliberation hall to find the Empress Dowager seated on the throne—the Empress standing stiffly to the side.

A eunuch ushered her in.

The Empress Dowager reclined on the throne, eyeing Yan Luo with a stiff, almost eerie smile. “Prime Minister, are you recovered?”

Yan Luo stood straight, glancing at the Empress Dowager. Her smile was rigid, unsettling upon closer inspection.

She curved her lips slightly. “Your Majesty, I am much better.”

“You’ve arrived just in time. How should Zhao Yan’s matter be handled?” The Empress Dowager’s tone was less forceful facing Yan Luo.

Yan Luo subtly looked at the Empress, who promptly said, “The Prime Minister interrogated through the night and may not have seen the confessions. I’ve reviewed them—they’re nearly identical. A brawl over land. With over a dozen present, none admit to striking Zhao Yan. I believe Zhao Yan was frail—perhaps he fell and broke his own leg, then falsely accused others. Separately interrogated, their accounts align. Isn’t the fault his own?”

Yan Luo said respectfully, “Your Majesty is astute. Punishing many for Zhao Yan’s sake would only harm the Duke of Wei’s household.”

Their coordinated rebuttal left the Empress Dowager speechless. Yan Luo’s concise arguments struck true: Zhao Yan had strong-armed land purchases, incited brawls—fault upon fault. Should others pay for his mistakes?

The dozen youths were all nobles’ sons. If the Duke of Wei cherished his son, and the Empress Dowager her nephew, did no one care for the others?

Justice demanded reason. The emperor’s kin were not above the law.

Outmaneuvered, the Empress Dowager departed in defeat. The Empress exhaled, shoulders slumping—until Yan Luo murmured, “Your Majesty, maintain decorum. Never reveal weakness before others.”

The Empress: “…” Why the lecture now?

Yan Luo valued propriety, a pedant despite her youth. Before the Empress’s reign, she’d lectured daily. She’d restrained herself lately—what had triggered her today?

As the Empress moved to sit, Yan Luo said softly, “Your Majesty, there is a manner to sitting. Your current posture invites ridicule.”

A ruler without poasmocked.

The Empress straightened, eyeing her. “You acted last night?”

“Seized the opportunity,” Yan Luo replied.

The Empress sighed. “At least I can breathe now. Any leads on the maiden?”

“None. Your Majesty visited my home today. I heard you left displeased?” Yan Luo cut to the chase. Beating around the bush would only invite evasion.

The Empress was taken aback. “You came to rescue me, didn’t you?”

Yan Luo stood tall. “I heard Your Majesty was upset and came to ask if my husband had slighted you.”

“Not at all. But his intentions are foul—he doesn’t love you.” The Empress recounted her exchange with Gu Que, concluding, “Your husband is no good match. Divorce him sooner.”

Yan Luo lifted her gaze. “If I divorce him, will Your Majesty take him as imperial consort—or seize him as a palace attendant?”

“What? I’d never!” The Empress’s heart raced under Yan Luo’s scrutiny. “How could you think that of me?”

Yan Luo said solemnly, “Your Majesty may not know—my husband is young, guileless, filled with literature, not cunning schemes. If he says he likes someone, he means it. Not the ulterior motives you imply.”

The Empress met Yan Luo’s eyes and faltered. She’d considered asking Gu Que to dress as a woman again. But Yan Luo’s protectiveness made it impossible.

She huffed, “I see you’re smitten. Fine, I won’t visit your home again.”

“Your Majesty would do well to stay away.” Yan Luo said mildly.

“You—you’re blinded by love!” The Empress thought Yan Luo had lost her mind.

Yan Luo added, “Your Majesty should focus on court, not my husband. The Empress Dowager won’t let Zhao Yan’s matter rest. She has many nephews.”

“With Zhao Yan as precedent, who’d dare?” the Empress scoffed.

After a few more remarks, Yan Luo left for her office.

Gu Que experimented in the kitchen, perfecting sweet-and-sour mandarin fish after two attempts. The cook was baffled by the fish’s peculiar shape.

Gu Que offered her the first attempt.

The cook declined, but Gu Que insisted, “Taste it and be honest.”

Reluctantly, the cook took a bite. Sweet, with a fruity tang—no fishy odor at all.

“Too sweet. Pleasant aroma,” she said flatly.

Unaware the dish was for Yan Luo—whose sweet tooth differed from ordinary palates—her critique was irrelevant.

Gu Que had the dishes packed, along with light vegetables the cook prepared, timed perfectly for Yan Luo’s return.

Yan Luo was punctual. After changing, Gu Que returned from the kitchen, and they dined together.

Gu Que set the fish before Yan Luo, who asked, “What shape is this?”

“An animal. Small, cute. I saw it in a book.” Gu Que placed a piece on Yan Luo’s plate. “Try it. If it’s good, I’ll teach the cook.”

Under Gu Que’s hopeful gaze, Yan Luo took a bite. Her eyes lit up. The red-glazed fish was sweet.

How could she not love it?

“Delicious,” Yan Luo praised.

Gu Que beamed. Today’s effort wasn’t in vain.

Dinner was pleasant. Yan Luo adored the fish, so Gu Que wrote down the recipe. At “tomato sauce,” Yan Luo asked, “What’s this?”

Gu Que fibbed, “A sauce I concocted. I’ll make batches for the kitchen.”

Yan Luo believed her.

They chatted awhile before Yan Luo left for her study. Gu Que asked, “Would you like a midnight snack?”

“Midnight snack?” Yan Luo was puzzled.

Gu Que explained, “Something light around nine o’clock?”

Yan Luo paused. “What’s available?”

“We had sweets tonight, so something mild?” Gu Que suggested. Too much sugar before bed led to weight gain—and diabetes.

Yan Luo didn’t move. Gu Que, emboldened, met her eyes.

Yan Luo’s makeup was subtle—pale brows, faint lips, the lightest rouge. Yet her skin was flawless, like unblemished jade.

“Very well. But I want sweet milk.” Yan Luo bargained.

Gu Que nearly rolled her eyes. “Then you must brush your teeth. I have toothbrushes—I’ll give you one.”

When she’d first arrived, she couldn’t stand mouth-rinsing powder and had bought a toothbrush and toothpaste. Yan Luo, a native, used powder—so Gu Que hadn’t offered.

But nighttime brushing was essential, especially for sweet-lovers.

“You fuss like a maiden,” Yan Luo remarked, amused. She’d expected to marry a meek girl—not someone who’d micromanage her life.

Gu Que didn’t dare respond, stealing a glance before urging, “Go on. I’ll check on Qiongju.”

They parted ways. Dusk fell, lanterns lighting every hall. Qiongju was awake, hiccuping.

The wet nurse fed her water. Qiongju’s tiny face was pinkish, not pale—slightly jaundiced.

Gu Que examined her, peeling back her clothes. Her body was yellowish too—neonatal jaundice.

“Take her out for sun tomorrow. Just a little daily. Remember—sunlight is vital.”

The nurse agreed.

Gu Que played with the baby awhile, returning to her room before nine. What to eat tonight?

Ice cream?

The night wasn’t cold. A popsicle would do.

“Tinglan.”

Tinglan poked her head in. “Young Master, what do you need?”

“Fetch some ice.” Gu Que said. The mansion had an icehouse for summer cooling.

Tinglan blinked. “Are you making treats? Can I have some?”

“One for you. Hurry.” Gu Que could barely contain her excitement.

Tinglan lifted her skirts and dashed off.

Gu Que selected a simple handmade ice cream set—six animal-shaped treats: tiger, cat, raccoon, pig, and more.

When Tinglan returned, she saw six strange shapes on the table. Her eyes locked onto the purple cat.

“Take it. Eat it slowly—it’s very cold.” Gu Que warned.

“Cold?” Skeptical, Tinglan touched the cat—and yanked her hand back, startled.

Gu Que held the stick out. “Like this. Won’t freeze you.”

Hesitantly, Tinglan took it, nibbling the tip. Icy sweetness burst on her tongue. “So cold! So sweet! Better than frozen curd!”

After one bite, she skipped off happily.

At the door, she bumped into Leng Mian, who spotted the treat instantly. “What’s that?”

“Nothing!” Tinglan hid it behind her back, stepping away.

Leng Mian grabbed her wrist. “What is that?”

“Rude! Even if it’s food, it’s mine! None of your business!” Tinglan flared up.

Yan Luo, a few steps behind, heard the quarrel. “Release her.”

Grudgingly, Leng Mian let go. Yan Luo passed Tinglan, eyeing the “cat” with interest. “How… amusing.”

Tinglan’s hand jerked—the “cat” tumbled to the ground.