After Marrying the Villainous Prime Minister in My Brother’s Stead - Chapter 28

28: You’re So Naughty—How Can You Be So Good-Looking?

Gu Que ignored her and instead handed her a glass of sweet milk: “Drink some, it’ll make you feel better.”

Yan Luo had no choice but to take a sip, watching as Gu Que busied herself.

The aroma was rich and enticing. Gu Que casually asked, “Did your stomach hurt badly last time?”

She never would have imagined that the dignified prime minister would secretly polish off all the ice cream in the freezer. Who would believe it?

At least she didn’t!

Yan Luo rested her chin on her hand, watching Gu Que work, and replied offhandedly, “What’s the difference between hurting badly and not so badly?”

Gu Que paused mid-motion, chopsticks hovering over the dish, and looked at her in surprise: “Does it hurt badly every time for you?”

“There’s no difference.” Yan Luo answered evasively.

Gu Que opened her mouth, wanting to ask if she experienced pain during her period, but the words stuck in her throat. After all, she was currently posing as a man—it wouldn’t be appropriate to ask such a private question.

Forget it. She’d have Tinglan ask Leng Mian about it later. Maybe she’d find out that way.

The pot bubbled noisily. Yan Luo picked up a red object with her chopsticks. “What’s this?”

“Tomatoes! I grew them myself. There aren’t many yet, but once I start cultivating them on a larger scale, I can sell them. They’re delicious with sugar.” As she spoke, Gu Que placed a piece of beef into Yan Luo’s bowl. “Eat more meat.”

Yan Luo ignored the meat and focused on the tomatoes. After finishing the ones in the pot, she spotted small, round red ones and picked one up. Gu Que did the same, popping it directly into her mouth.

Yan Luo followed suit, biting down lightly—only to immediately frown at the sourness. Gu Que chuckled triumphantly. “For some reason, the tomatoes I grew are especially sour.”

“You’re so naughty.” Yan Luo chided softly. Soon, she gave up on the cherry tomatoes and returned to eating the ones from the pot.

She loved red foods. The tomato burst in her mouth, its juices reminiscent of fresh bl00d.

Gu Que was eating the spicy version and suddenly craved cola. She glanced stealthily at Yan Luo. “Are you thirsty?”

“No.” Yan Luo shook her head. She was eating tomatoes, not spicy food, so she didn’t feel thirsty.

“Then I’ll go find something to drink. You keep eating.” Gu Que hurried off.

Yan Luo watched her retreating figure and smiled faintly. What an amusing little girl.

A moment later, Gu Que returned with a cup. The cup was white porcelain, making it impossible to see the liquid inside.

In that instant, Yan Luo sensed it was something good and beckoned to Gu Que. “I want some too.”

“Didn’t you just say you weren’t thirsty?” Gu Que had no choice but to hand it over. “I’ll go get another one.”

The moon was obscured by colorful clouds, and the nightscape was breathtakingly beautiful.

Yan Luo examined the brown, fizzy liquid in the white porcelain cup, puzzled. Only boiling water or poisoned wine bubbled like this—was this toxic?

She pursed her lips. Gu Que returned with an identical cup and placed it in front of herself, leaning over to peek. It was fizzy too.

“Why is it bubbling?” she finally asked.

Gu Que took a sip, feeling instantly refreshed. “It’s a carbonated drink. They all bubble. If you prefer something sweeter, I can get you a different one.”

“Is this sweet?” Yan Luo hesitated, wary of the strange fizz.

“Yes, and it’s fizzy too. Try it.” Gu Que drank heartily, then fished a chicken foot from the pot and placed it in her own bowl. “This isn’t nutritious, so it’s best not to drink too much. It’s just for fun.”

Yan Luo took a cautious sip, then immediately set the cup down. “It’s not as good as milk. If you want fun, you should drink wine.”

At the mention of alcohol, Gu Que shrunk back and fell silent, nibbling on the chicken foot while Yan Luo continued eating the red tomatoes.

Yan Luo’s tastes were peculiar. Gu Que couldn’t understand why tomatoes were so delicious. She tried a piece but still preferred chicken feet.

Oh well. Chicken feet it was.

Suddenly, a ding sounded in her mind.

Oh—the great writer was online. What a busy person.

Gu Que set down the chicken foot. “I’m going to the bathroom.”

Yan Luo was baffled. What was she talking about?

Soon, Gu Que returned, carrying a piece of candied fruit cake—sweet, but only one bite’s worth.

So she’d gone to fetch something. Yan Luo smiled. “Is it sweet?”

“Cloyingly sweet.” Gu Que handed it to her, masking her lie.

Yan Luo ate it in one bite, her eyes narrowing from the sweetness. “Is there more?”

“No, that was the last piece.” Gu Que felt guilty—she’d given the rest to Tinglan. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to share, but Yan Luo couldn’t have any more.

Yan Luo gave her a resentful look. “Really?”

Gu Que stood firm. “Really.”

Yan Luo sighed dramatically. “For breakfast tomorrow, I want this.”

Gu Que: “…”

She was the prime minister! Was this any way to behave?

After dinner, they decided to take a walk to aid digestion. But Leng Mian arrived in a hurry, whispering something Gu Que couldn’t catch. Yan Luo left immediately, her expression grave.

Gu Que was left alone again, her mind occupied with plans to buy tomato seeds the next day and experiment with growing more. Meanwhile, Yan Luo changed into black clothes and left.

Where did she go? Gu Que didn’t ask. But when she woke up the next morning, Yan Luo still hadn’t returned. Tinglan inquired and learned she hadn’t come back all night.

Gu Que had errands to run. Before leaving, she placed a piece of candied fruit cake in the bedroom—Yan Luo would see it when she returned.

She was actually quite busy. To survive, she had bought a house to use as a greenhouse for growing vegetables. While these ventures might not be profitable in modern times, they were quite beneficial here.

Many seasonal fruits and vegetables were unavailable here, like yellow-fleshed watermelons. Last year, she’d only seen red-fleshed ones.

They were hard to grow, but she wanted to try. Hence, the greenhouse.

Of course, all this was a secret. No one knew.

Yan Luo had gone to Tongzhou, a journey that took all night. By noon, she arrived at the military camp, exhausted. Dismounting, she swayed slightly, feeling dizzy.

Leng Mian quickly steadied her.

After a moment, she entered the camp.

The Tongzhou camp had belonged to the Duke of Jin—a faction loyal to the Empress Dowager. But after the last incident, it fell into Yan Luo’s hands. To outsiders, it now belonged to the emperor.

After the imperial examinations, the Empress Dowager had suffered heavy losses—not just the camp but many key positions. The young empress was growing older and harder to control, so the Empress Dowager was eager to ally with the Huo family.

But these were the Empress Dowager’s concerns. Yan Luo didn’t care.

Tongzhou was now Yan Luo’s domain, with Wu Qing as deputy general. However, Wu Qing had been captured two days ago—someone had rebelled, aiming to kill Yan Luo’s people.

The news had arrived the previous night. By the time Yan Luo arrived, Wu Qing had already turned the tables and captured the rebels.

When Yan Luo entered, a dozen men knelt in the main tent. She stepped inside, smiling but silent.

Prime Minister Yan was famously gentle. Her smile could make flowers bloom. The men were all military officers, forbidden from leaving camp without permission. Many were seeing her for the first time.

Seeing a delicate woman, their disdain grew, their expressions scornful.

Wu Qing, twenty-three, was Leng Mian’s elder brother—whether by bl00d or not, no one cared.

Wu Qing summarized the situation: these were the Duke of Jin’s old subordinates, unwilling to submit. Yan Luo smiled. “The military has its rules. Deal with them accordingly.”

Military law dictated execution.

Yan Luo’s tone was gentle, devoid of intimidation. The men remained unmoved. Then she added, “Beheading is too dull. Skin them and send their hides to their master.”

She was too gentle, sitting gracefully in her chair, stunningly beautiful, her posture elegant and upright.

But the military camp was no place for gentleness. The men, finally realizing they faced the infamous cruel Prime Minister Yan Luo, panicked.

This was no delicate woman.

The leader reacted fastest, struggling to his feet. Leng Mian kicked him down. “How dare you act out in front of the Prime Minister? Gag him and drag him out.”

Yan Luo asked Wu Qing, “Do you have evidence?”

“Yes, Prime Minister. Solid evidence.”

Yan Luo smiled. “Make sure the skins are well-preserved. I’ll paint a picture to send along.”

The Duke of Jin was dead. Who was their master now?

Without the Empress Dowager’s backing, would they have dared rebel?

The men were dragged outside. Soon, agonized screams filled the air.

Yan Luo was tired, yawning lazily. She looked at the remaining men. “Want to live?”

Their faces pale, Yan Luo continued, “Write down your confessions. I’m not a good person—I believe in collective punishment. If you don’t value your lives, what about your families? Let’s see… your youngest child is just three months old. Would their skin peel more tenderly?”

She paused, her eyes sparkling, lips curved in a smile. “Will you write?”

Wu Qing brought brushes and paper, untying them. Without another word, they began writing.

Yan Luo was exhausted. Thankfully, she’d eaten well last night—otherwise, she’d have gone hungry all day.

Once the confessions were written, the men were beheaded. Yan Luo surveyed the heads and instructed Wu Qing, “Send their families some silver.”

Wu Qing understood. The Prime Minister kept her word—not only sparing their families but giving them money to live on.

Yan Luo rested at the camp for a day. With so many dead, replacements were needed. She spent another day selecting suitable candidates.

On the third day, she returned to the capital.

During her absence, Gu Que had bought yellow watermelon seeds to experiment with and set up trellises for beans. She loved tender beans stir-fried—they were delicious.

After a busy few days, she returned to the Marquis’s estate to see Qing Zhi.

A few days apart, and the baby had changed again—his cheeks were chubby, pink, and adorable.

Calculating the days, his full-month celebration was approaching. Should they hold a banquet?

The Marquis told Gu Que to ask Prime Minister Yan. After all, she was the child’s mother.

Gu Que was no longer the clueless girl she’d been. She understood the Marquis wanted to celebrate but had to consider Yan Luo’s reputation and feelings.

Becoming a mother immediately after marriage was embarrassing.

And Yan Luo was the Prime Minister. The officials would mock her.

Gu Que thought it over. “Let’s not. Or you could host a family banquet—just for fun. The Prime Minister and I won’t attend.”

They weren’t the real parents. Their absence wouldn’t matter.

But the Marquis glared. “If you two don’t come, what’s the point? If the parents skip the celebration, how will others view Qing Zhi?”

Gu Que grew bolder. “Then you should call my elder brother back. That would be more appropriate.”

The Marquis was speechless.

Father and daughter sat in silence.

Finally, the Marquis said, “Go ask the Prime Minister.”

“You’re just taking advantage of her good temper.” Gu Que retorted angrily.

At the phrase “good temper,” the Marquis’s eye twitched. Good temper?

Was his daughter out of her mind?

He didn’t know what to say. Should he tell her that her “sister-in-law” might seem gentle but was utterly ruthless, with cruel methods that could strip a man of his will to live?

If he didn’t speak, he’d choke on his anger.

If he did, it would seem like he was sowing discord.

Glaring at his foolish daughter, the Marquis waved her off. “Get out of my sight.”

Seeing him speechless, Gu Que smoothed her robes and left.

Before going, she visited Qing Zhi. The baby was awake, lying on the bed, kicking his legs in the air.

Stretching and playing—this was all a baby could do for now. Later, he’d practice lifting his head while lying on his stomach.

By the fourth month, he’d learn to roll over. Lazy babies might take until the seventh or eighth month.

After rolling, he’d practice sitting—most could sit by seven months.

By eight months, crawling. Then standing. Fast learners might walk by ten months—like academic prodigies.

Slower ones might take fifteen or sixteen months, or even eighteen or nineteen.

Come to think of it, babies were quite busy.

Oh—and at six months, they’d start eating solid food to practice chewing.

Tsk. No free time at all.

Lost in thought, Gu Que boarded the carriage. This time, she hadn’t seen the Marchioness. Something felt off.

She asked Tinglan, “Did you see the Marchioness?”

Tinglan, weaving a decorative knot, looked up. “They said she went to the temple to pray. She’ll stay for a few days.”

Prayers were likely for Gu Yan’s health.

Gu Que wanted to know what illness Gu Yan had, but the Marquis and his wife were tight-lipped. She couldn’t get answers.

Now that the Marquis had a grandson, he was in better spirits and more generous—hence the box of silver.

Gu Que eyed the box and asked Tinglan, “You’re seventeen now—time to marry. Any prospects?”

Tinglan was the only maid who knew Gu Que’s secret. She’d served her for years, handling intimate matters—even her menstrual cycles.

If she left, many things would become difficult. The Marquis and his wife knew she was of marriageable age but said nothing.

But Gu Que couldn’t bear it. She’d been delayed herself—how could she do the same to Tinglan?

She couldn’t. “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” was her motto.

Tinglan froze, her eyes reddening. She understood the Marquis and his wife’s intentions—she’d received many favors, and the young master treated her well. She remembered their kindness.

So she would wait until the real young master returned before marrying.

She asked Gu Que, “If I leave, what will you do?”

“I’m not a child. I can manage. Besides, if you marry, I’ll need to vet the man’s background and character. You’ll need dowry preparations—that’ll take at least a year. In a year, he might be back. Once you’re married, I’ll go my own way.” Gu Que spoke lightly, her eyes full of longing.

Who liked wearing men’s robes anyway?

Tinglan wept silently, turning away. “I won’t marry.”

Gu Que rubbed her eyes. “Is that reverse psychology? I don’t know many people, but the Prime Minister could help.”

The people she knew were scholars—high-status men who wouldn’t marry a maid. The estate’s stewards were all servants.

She had selfish reasons—Tinglan deserved an ordinary commoner.

Here, girls married at fifteen, seventeen, or eighteen. Prime Minister Yan had married at twenty, waiting for Gu Que’s imperial exams.

Tinglan was already seventeen. Marrying next year would be perfect.

After gauging her feelings, Gu Que felt more at ease. Eyeing the silver, she wondered what to buy. Clothes, perhaps?

Before, she’d been frugal. Now, she could splurge. She asked Tinglan, “Can I buy dresses?”

What girl didn’t want to wear pretty dresses openly?

Tinglan hesitated, seeing the hope in the young master’s eyes. She swallowed her words and said, “Fine. Buy them, and I’ll keep them safe. Okay?”

Gu Que beamed. “Then I’ll buy lots!”

Tinglan sighed. This was childish—they didn’t live alone in the estate anymore. The Prime Minister shared their quarters. What if she found out?

She wanted to dissuade Gu Que but didn’t know how.

In the end, Gu Que ordered over a dozen dresses, had them delivered to the greenhouse, and picked out fine fabrics for Yan Luo. But the local fabrics couldn’t compare to modern ones.

Unable to spend more, she turned to Tinglan. “I’ll buy you some nice fabric for your dowry.”

Tinglan nearly cried.

Gu Que selected several pieces, emptying the silver box before heading home.

When she returned, Yan Luo was asleep. The bedroom was silent, and Leng Mian was absent. Gu Que went to the study instead.

The great writer had finished the essay. She needed to copy it for Yan Luo’s review.

This would suffice.

The exams were in ten days. She’d explained the situation to the writer, who agreed but demanded the agarwood plaque in her shop.

Gu Que agreed—she’d hand it over afterward.

Yan Luo slept until late evening without waking. Gu Que guessed she was exhausted and didn’t disturb her, staying in the study overnight.

The next morning, before dawn, she went to see Yan Luo.

Four days apart.

Gu Que entered the bedroom to find Yan Luo awake, sitting on the bed in a red silk robe. The soft, bright fabric accentuated her stunning beauty.

Yan Luo loved red and wore it often. Most scholars preferred light, plain colors, but Yan Luo defied convention.

Gu Que also loved red. She’d spotted a red V-neck maxi dress on Taobao—pricey, but the model looked gorgeous. It was a summer dress. Once she sold another porcelain or wood piece, she’d buy it.

Then she’d trade ice cream for a chance to see the Prime Minister model it.

It would be breathtaking.

The dress would expose her legs and arms. Gu Que’s gaze drifted to Yan Luo’s legs, but the robe concealed them.

She imagined they’d be pale—glowingly so.

Yan Luo changed clothes. Gu Que stole a second glance but was shooed out by the maids.

She waited outside. Today was a rest day—no court session—so Yan Luo wore a red dress with matching accents, her complexion glowing with health.

She’d applied makeup, a floral design between her brows, radiating delicate beauty.

Gu Que’s eyes sparkled with excitement. She longed to buy the dress and see Yan Luo try it on, barely containing her eagerness as she forced her gaze away.

She controlled herself well, but Yan Luo noticed the flicker in her eyes as she approached.

Admiration. Anticipation.

Yan Luo asked, “What’s for breakfast?”

Thanks to Gu Que’s daily culinary experiments, their meetings often revolved around food.

Today’s breakfast was special—candied fruit cake. Gu Que found it ordinary, but Yan Luo, well-rested, had a hearty appetite, finishing the milk and the entire cake.

After breakfast, Yan Luo had no official duties. “There’s a spring banquet today. Want to go?”

Normally, she wouldn’t take Gu Que out so close to the exams. But servants reported Gu Que rarely studied—attending or not made no difference. Might as well have fun.

Gu Que wasn’t keen. Her eyes lingered on Yan Luo’s dress. She wanted to keep looking.

After a moment’s thought, she asked, “If I enter someone else’s estate, will we be separated?”

She knew men and women couldn’t mingle freely. As a “man,” she couldn’t enter the inner quarters.

“Seems so. Then let’s not go.” Yan Luo nodded. “Going alone is pointless…” She paused, smirking. “Unless you dress as a woman. Then we can go together.”

Mischievous again!

So naughty!

Hopelessly naughty!

Gu Que refused, standing to leave.

Yan Luo called after her, “At the banquet, people will ask about the silk milk soap.”

“I still can’t dress as a woman. What would people think?” Gu Que glanced back at Yan Luo’s dazzling red dress, tempted.

She couldn’t enter the inner quarters, but Yan Luo could. They’d come this far—why stop now?

Gu Que shuffled back like an ant, her dark eyes fixed on Yan Luo.

Yan Luo knew she was naughty. But Gu Que wasn’t afraid of her—which pleased her.

Gu Que was beautiful. She’d look lovely in women’s clothing. Yan Luo studied her. “I don’t even mind that you’re…”

She trailed off, frowning. She’d meant to say, “I don’t even mind that you’re a girl.”

But saying it would ruin the fun. Gu Que’s eyes held stars—why snuff them out?

Yan Luo gave up. No point in spoiling the mood. “Change your clothes. I’ll take you to the merchant guild.”

The capital had a merchant guild where prominent traders gathered. Today, there was an exhibition—but Gu Que, an outsider, didn’t know.

“Merchant guild?” Gu Que understood the concept, but it wasn’t open to just anyone.

“Yes. Bring your silk soap and little inventions. Let’s have fun.” Yan Luo reclined against a pillow, smiling charmingly.

Gu Que stayed silent, thinking: How can Yan Luo be so naughty?

Hopelessly naughty.

She didn’t speak. Yan Luo sighed. “Young Master Gu, how can you be so good-looking?”

Gu Que was stunned…