After Marrying the Villainous Prime Minister in My Brother’s Stead - Chapter 49

49: Social Butterfly—Kissing and Touching Are Still Allowed!

Gu Que was so irritated by the touching that she felt hot.

“Why would I have pierced ears? Only girls have those. How can a man like me have them?”

Yan Luo looked at her flushed cheek and couldn’t resist reaching out to touch it again. Gu Que burrowed under the covers. “It’s time to sleep.”

“Let me touch you once, and then I’ll sleep.” Yan Luo bargained.

Gu Que, exasperated, poked her head back out from under the covers for the sake of peace. “Where do you want to touch?”

The two were close together—more accurately, Yan Luo had squeezed Gu Que against the inner side of the bed, eyeing her like a tiger eyeing its prey.

Gu Que was on edge. Yan Luo scrutinized her from head to toe. “Why don’t you want to get close to me?”

Gu Que blinked, her face red and her heart racing. In that moment, she felt like she had become prey in the prime minister’s trap.

“Young Master, you’d rather get close to other women than me. Is it because my reputation is so bad?” Yan Luo was dead serious, not even blinking. She probably hadn’t been this earnest even when speaking to the emperor.

Gu Que swallowed hard, overwhelmed by the domineering aura of this mature beauty. It was downright lethal.

“Grandma said your health still needs careful nurturing. We can’t do anything reckless.”

“Using her words as an excuse? Grandma only said we shouldn’t consummate the marriage, not that we can’t be intimate. Kissing and touching are still allowed.” Yan Luo argued.

Gu Que had no choice. She leaned in and kissed Yan Luo’s brow. “There. Now sleep.”

“How perfunctory. Fine, I’ll sleep too.” Yan Luo grumbled but complied.

The capital was home to many poetry societies. As Yan Luo and Gu Que put it: “It’s where scholars show off their talents.”

Before heading out, Gu Que memorized two more poems—no choice, they were all written by Prime Minister Yan.

Gu Que was headed to the Yaxuan Poetry Society, led by a certain commandery prince who cared nothing for politics or women, only for composing poetry. Rumor had it he’d written thousands of poems.

The society was located at the side gate of the commandery prince’s residence, separated from the main estate by just a wall. Gu Que went with Yan Luo.

On the way, Gu Que asked, “Have you been free lately?”

“Wen Fu got promoted—four ranks in three months. He’s now a Secretariat Drafter. So I’m completely idle.”

Gu Que understood: Prime Minister Yan had fallen out of favor. The empress now preferred Wen Fu. She found it odd—how had things turned so suddenly?

Yan Luo gave her a resentful look. “Wen Fu snitched, saying I orchestrated the marriage between the Huo and Gu families. Her Majesty wasn’t pleased, so I lost favor. Perfect timing—we can have a child now.”

“This…” Gu Que felt terribly guilty. “I’ve dragged you into this.”

Yan Luo didn’t mind. “I’ll keep enjoying the break. Consider it a vacation.”

At the poetry society, the Prince of Guangping came out to greet them personally. “I’ve invited you several times, Young Master, but you never came. I’m overjoyed you’re here today!”

Gu Que was shy, so Yan Luo stepped forward to exchange pleasantries.

The three entered, with the Prince of Guangping praising Gu Que nonstop and lamenting her missed imperial exams. His mouth didn’t stop the entire way.

A socially awkward person meeting a social butterfly—the scene was painfully awkward.

Perhaps because word had spread that Gu Que would attend, the society was packed, even with the top scholar Lin Biwen in attendance. The Ministry of Rites had set the wedding date, and Lin Biwen would soon marry Princess Jinyang.

When Gu Que arrived, the crowd surged forward, but Yan Luo took a step ahead, and everyone immediately halted.

The socially fearless Prince of Guangping quickly smoothed things over. “Look at the lotus in the pond, Young Master. What do you think?”

Gu Que glanced at Yan Luo, who said, “The prince is too eager.”

The society’s grounds were beautiful, with flowers for every season. In front of the pavilion was a pond of blooming lotuses.

Gu Que thought of Yang Wanli’s poem and smiled, looking at Yan Luo. Yan Luo stepped closer. “What are you smiling about?”

“Nothing. I’ll recite, you write?” Gu Que blinked at her.

Yan Luo tsked. “Is that a wink?”

“Stop reading those messy novels. What wink?” Gu Que muttered, taking her hand and leading her to a table. “Okay?”

The two whispered together while the Prince of Guangping teased, “The prime minister and her husband share such a deep bond. Truly enviable.”

Yan Luo rolled up her sleeves, picked up a brush, and poised herself elegantly, back straight. Gu Que recited a line, Yan Luo paused, then wrote.

The prime minister’s calligraphy was sharp and forceful, a stark contrast to her beauty. It was Gu Que’s first time seeing her write, and it reminded her of her father’s handwriting.

The Marquis of Yongle was a military man with strong arms, but compared to the prime minister, his strokes lacked her sharp edge.

Once Gu Que finished reciting, Yan Luo set down her brush. The social butterfly prince rushed over and read aloud:

“Tiny lotus buds just reveal sharp tips…”

“Marvelous! Young Master Gu, you’ve truly opened my eyes!”

The flattery was excessive. Gu Que felt embarrassed, but Yan Luo smiled and replied for her, “You flatter us, Prince.”

Then she added, “The poem is done. We should take our leave.”

The Prince of Guangping clutched the poem, visibly moved. “I have a few poems of my own. Could the young master offer some critique?”

Gu Que didn’t respond. Yan Luo smiled. The prince’s expression shifted, and he quickly backtracked. “The prime minister must be busy. Young Master, come again another time.”

The couple arrived together and left together, leaving behind only a single poem.

Once in the carriage, Yan Luo asked, “Was that Li Bai again?”

“No, Yang Wanli.” Gu Que said.

Yan Luo pondered but didn’t recognize the name. Had Gu Que made it up to hide her talent?

Clearly gifted yet deliberately holding back—what was going on in that head of hers?

So strange.

After showing off, the prime minister headed to her office while Gu Que went to check on the shops.

The shopkeeper brought out the account books for the past two months, thrilled. “Business is booming! I think we can stop limiting supply. Why not sell as much as we can?”

Gu Que said, “Scarcity increases value. If we flood the market every day, sales might not stay this strong.”

After reviewing the books, she went upstairs. By noon, the second-floor shelves were empty, and there were few customers. A clerk was wiping the counters and, mistaking Gu Que for a customer, advised, “We’re sold out for today. Please come back tomorrow.”

Gu Que nodded. After inspecting the shop, she headed to the soap factory. The factory was a row of connected houses with walls knocked down to form one large workspace.

Inside, women worked efficiently. Since production was limited, their workload wasn’t heavy, and they left on time. Gu Que didn’t ask them to work overtime—they had families to care for and chores to do at home.

Gu Que didn’t return immediately. Instead, she had lunch there, looked around, and after the workers left, checked the warehouse.

There was no backlog of soap. Production was limited, and supply was capped, except for bulk orders. The guild had placed one large order, but after fulfilling it, Gu Que stopped accepting more.

However, orders for goat milk soap kept pouring in. She sourced these from Taobao at wholesale prices and shipped them out.

The factory had eight guards working in shifts at night. There had been incidents—thieves had once stolen a significant amount. After that, Gu Que hired martial artists to stand guard.

After her rounds, Gu Que headed home.

Yan Luo returned earlier and was watching the sunset in the courtyard while Zhi Zhi performed martial arts for her. The master and servant were having a grand time.

When Gu Que returned, Zhi Zhi retreated.

Dinner was served in the courtyard. Granny Sun, drawn by the aroma, joined them, saying eating alone was too lonely and three made for a livelier meal.

Dinner featured fresh carp, tender and delicious, along with boiled shrimp. Gu Que peeled the shrimp, and Yan Luo ate them—a harmonious arrangement.

After dinner, Warm Residence delivered a basket of watermelons. Granny Sun grabbed two, and Yan Luo teased, “You’re treating them like babies—grabbing two at once.”

Granny Sun ignored her and left happily.

Five or six melons remained. Some were sent to the Yan family, some to the marquis’s estate, and even the palace wasn’t forgotten.

In the end, only one was left. Gu Que cut it open, scooped out the flesh with a spoon, and shared it with Yan Luo, each taking half.

Yan Luo took a few bites when Zhi Zhi returned, staring intently. She pointed at Gu Que’s half. “Eat hers.”

Zhi Zhi looked at the young master.

Gu Que refused. “Men and women shouldn’t share. Eat the prime minister’s.”

Zhi Zhi turned to Yan Luo.

Yan Luo said, “I’m the prime minister. How could I share with others?”

Zhi Zhi huffed. “I’ll go find Xi Yu.” The melons had been delivered by Xi Yu, who probably had plenty.

The couple chorused, “Go ahead.”

Zhi Zhi left.

Gu Que, puzzled by their unusual dynamic, hesitated to ask, afraid she was overthinking. Yan Luo suddenly spoke: “Zhi Zhi is Leng Mian’s disciple. Leng Mian saved me several times. And Zhi Zhi is simple-minded, naive.”

Zhi Zhi seemed straightforward but was actually a sharp blade.

Gu Que nodded and kept eating. The golden watermelon was small, so half wasn’t much.

After eating, they strolled in the garden to digest. Yan Luo’s health had improved, but she was even more idle. While recovering, documents and intelligence reports had kept her busy. Now, back in court, she rarely even visited her study.

Though Gu Que didn’t fully understand, she sensed Yan Luo must feel somewhat lost. She tried to cheer her up: “Want to visit the crops?”

“After my day off. I’m busy.” Yan Luo said.

Gu Que didn’t poke holes in that excuse. If Yan Luo said she was busy, then she was busy.

After their walk, Gu Que went to bathe, and Leng Mian arrived.

“Prince Kangle has been hunting outside the city often lately.”

Yan Luo looked up. “What’s he up to?”

“He’s also been visiting the empress dowager frequently.”

Prince Kangle was the emperor’s youngest uncle, just thirty years old and in his prime. After Prince Huaizhang’s death, he’d been making moves, clearly aiming to take his place.

If he wanted to step up, Yan Luo was happy to oblige, handing over Prince Huaizhang’s connections.

“Then let’s give him a push. A princely title is too modest for him. Arrange for the emperor to make him a king.” Yan Luo said.

Leng Mian asked, “How?”

“Let the empress dowager handle it. She’s his ally, after all. By the way, what’s Wen Fu up to?” Yan Luo thought of the delicate young woman.

“Busy with the emperor in bed.”

Yan Luo chuckled. “How nice. Enviable.”

Leng Mian said, “You could do the same.”

“Young Master Gu says my health isn’t good enough. She won’t agree.” Yan Luo sighed.

Leng Mian suggested, “Tear off her fig leaf. If she’s scared, she’ll comply.”

“Force her? No, no. Besides, I don’t even like her that way. I just find her cute and amusing.” Yan Luo mused, picturing Gu Que’s delicate face. “She’s still a child. One compliment, and she’s over the moon. When my mother praised me, I was the same. That proves she’s a child.”

“Are you saying the young master sees you as her mother?” Leng Mian asked, confused.

Yan Luo stopped smiling and glared. “Watch your words. Do I look that old? Get out. I’ll have someone handle the arrangements.”

Leng Mian slunk away.

Soon after, Gu Que returned, refreshed from her bath. In summer, bathing left her cool and comfortable.

“I’m done. Your turn.”

Yan Luo didn’t move. Instead, she asked, “Young Master, is there a kind of window where people inside can see out, but outsiders can’t see in?”

“Yes, there is.”