After Marrying the Villainous Prime Minister in My Brother’s Stead - Chapter 51

51: Cleanliness—For Example, Me—I Like You.

After the two finished eating, the clothes were delivered. Xiyu jumped down from the carriage, followed by two maids carrying a chest containing Yan Luo’s change of clothes.

The maids brought water into the bathing room, and Gu Que treated them to watermelon. Grateful, the maids took the watermelon and left.

After bathing, the two lay in the air-conditioned room. Yan Luo asked Gu Que, “Aren’t you afraid?”

Gu Que almost laughed again. She wanted to explain the principles but feared Yan Luo might go tinkering with the generator, so she simply said, “No, I’m not afraid. Just cover yourself well. If you’re cold, we can turn it off.”

“No, don’t turn it off. It’s quite interesting.” Yan Luo was sleepy and soon dozed off leaning against Gu Que.

Yan Luo still had to attend court the next day, so her court robes were prepared. She rose early and went straight to the carriage.

Gu Que didn’t go back to sleep either. After arranging household affairs, she took a basket of watermelons back to the Marquis’s residence.

The second uncle of the Gu family, Gu Yuanwei, was also at the Marquis’s residence, there to borrow money. Though it was called borrowing, it was more like feeding a meat bun to a dog—it would never return.

Gu Yuanwei wanted to secure a position as a clerk in the Ministry of Revenue, a lucrative post many coveted, which required greasing palms with silver.

The Marquis of Yongle naturally wanted the family to prosper. Every time his younger brother came, he would give him money without hesitation.

This time was no exception. Gu Yuanwei asked for ten thousand taels, and the Marquis had someone fetch it.

Gu Que was indignant. She had advised her father several times, but each time he would just laugh it off. This time, it was even worse.

After Gu Yuanwei left, Gu Que couldn’t hold back: “I know of at least three instances—one thousand taels, five thousand taels, and now this outrageous demand for ten thousand taels. If this continues, the Marquis’s residence will be emptied.”

“Young people shouldn’t only focus on the present but look to the future.” The Marquis lectured, taking out an account book and handing it to his daughter. “Take a look.”

Years ago, the Gu family had already divided its assets. Gu Yuanwei took his share, but since the title of Marquis belonged to the eldest branch, the second branch naturally received less.

Moreover, after the Marquis suffered a leg injury, the late emperor bestowed many gifts—all of which belonged to the eldest branch and had nothing to do with the second branch. Though the Marquis was a military man, he wasn’t one to sit idle. He had purchased shops and farmland to ensure the family’s livelihood.

The Marquis’s estate owned countless fields and shops, something Gu Yuanwei was well aware of, fueling his greed even further.

Gu Que had arrived late and knew nothing of these matters. The account book recorded all the money Gu Yuanwei had borrowed over the years, each entry clearly noted with dates.

Even among brothers, accounts should be settled clearly. The Marquis was no fool.

Gu Que asked, “What if Second Uncle doesn’t repay?”

“Debts must be paid—that’s the rule of heaven.”

Gu Que placed the account book on the table. “I’m not a petty person, but Second Uncle’s fixation on us doesn’t bode well.”

“I know,” the Marquis said. “Did the Prime Minister return yesterday?”

“Yes.”

The Marquis continued, “The Prime Minister built a transparent palace hall for Her Majesty. I heard people inside can see the scenery outside, but those outside can’t see in.”

“I’ve heard of it. It’s a fine item sold by foreign merchants. Do you want one too?” Gu Que smiled.

The Marquis glanced at her, deciding not to engage with this silly child. Such a fine item was reserved solely for the Emperor. Anyone else using it would be overstepping.

“Let me ask you—is the Prime Minister treating you well?”

“Quite well,” Gu Que replied casually, not wanting to discuss private matters with the Marquis. She seized the opportunity to say, “I’ll go see Qingzhi. Where’s Mother?”

“She went to the temple to burn incense. How is Qiongju?” The Marquis also missed his granddaughter.

Gu Que smiled. “She’s doing well. She can lift her head now and even smiles.”

The Marquis proudly said, “Qingzhi can already roll over. Go see him.”

Qiongju was a step behind and hadn’t learned to roll over yet.

Gu Que went to see Qingzhi. The boy was lively, kicking his legs on his little bed and tossing off his blanket. The nursemaid chuckled and picked him up to greet his father.

“He’s teething…” Gu Que exclaimed in surprise, noticing a tiny white speck on his gums.

The nursemaid was delighted. “Yes, we just noticed yesterday. It’s as if the young master knew his father was coming today—a bond between father and son.”

Gu Que ignored the flattery and took Qingzhi, asking the nursemaid, “Does he suck his thumb?”

“No, not at all.”

“Good.” Gu Que nodded. The siblings were quite different. Qiongju loved sucking her thumb, shoving it into her mouth whenever she had the chance, savoring it with relish.

Perhaps their different environments led to different habits.

Gu Que didn’t stay long and soon left the Marquis’s residence.

Three visits, and twice she didn’t see the Madam. Could she be meeting Gu Yan?

Gu Que grew suspicious. Upon returning home, she arranged for someone to keep an eye on the Marquis’s residence to see where the Madam went—perhaps she could find Gu Yan’s whereabouts.

This damned role of Young Master was becoming unbearable.

By early August, the weather had cooled. The Empress held a banquet, inviting all officials to admire the scenery from the Glass Hall.

Her goal was to show off her newly built palace, which had taken two months to complete. Under the sunlight, it shimmered brilliantly. From inside, the outside scenery was fully visible.

The Empress had originally wanted a seven-story structure, allowing her to see the entire capital from within. Unfortunately, the craftsmen said it might not bear the weight, so she had to abandon the idea.

Yan Luo had been extremely busy these past few days, though Gu Que didn’t know with what. Gu Que’s seedlings were thriving, and her soap business was booming.

Profits were overflowing.

Upon entering the Glass Hall, exclamations of awe filled the air. Many elder officials stood by the windows, marveling at the view, their usual stern demeanors gone. Even upon seeing the Prime Minister, they smiled.

Even if they knew the Prime Minister was no saint, the creation of such a magnificent palace deserved their smiles.

Yan Luo returned their smiles. Gu Que found her seat and, upon looking up, spotted Princess Jinyang.

The Princess’s wedding to the top scholar was set for mid-month—just around the corner. Gu Que felt uneasy under her gaze and quickly stood to salute: “Your Highness, Princess Jinyang.”

Princess Jinyang nodded slightly, then turned away, refusing to look at her again.

That brief exchange left Gu Que unsettled. There was something odd about that glance, though she couldn’t pinpoint what.

Shaking it off, Gu Que was soon approached by a social butterfly.

Prince Guangping treated Gu Que like a long-lost relative, eagerly stepping forward for a hug—only to be stopped by a cough from the side.

The Prime Minister spoke: “Your Highness, please restrain yourself.”

Fine, no hug. Prince Guangping wasn’t discouraged and switched to a handshake—only for the Prime Minister to cough again.

Prince Guangping was baffled. What was this? No hug, and now no handshake either?

They were just two men—was there a need to be so guarded?

With a sigh, Prince Guangping settled for patting Gu Que’s shoulder, beaming. “Come to the poetry club in a few days. I’ve acquired an ancient painting.”

Gu Que wasn’t interested, but Yan Luo asked, “Are you giving it to my husband?”

Prince Guangping choked. “I—I didn’t say I’d give it to him.”

Yan Luo sighed lightly. “Then he won’t go.”

“Prime Minister, let’s discuss this. If the Young Master likes it, I can gift it. But in return, Young Master Gu, could you compose a poem for me?” Prince Guangping quickly backtracked, adding praise: “That last poem you wrote was truly exceptional. How about another?”

“Deal. Compose one now, and you’ll deliver the painting to my husband tomorrow.” Yan Luo immediately agreed. Showing off today and gaining an ancient painting—why not?

Prince Guangping clapped in delight, ordering eunuchs to fetch brushes and ink.

In moments, the hall buzzed with activity—tables were moved, brushes and ink prepared.

Gu Que was bewildered. What was happening?

Yan Luo whispered to her, “I heard the Prince obtained an ancient painting, a masterpiece from centuries ago.”

Gu Que’s eyes sparkled, her attitude shifting instantly. Smiling, she asked the social butterfly, “Your Highness, what’s the theme?”

“The Mid-Autumn Festival is approaching—let’s make that the theme.” Prince Guangping suggested. Every festival spawned countless poems, and the simplest themes revealed the greatest talent.

Gu Que thought of Prelude to Water Melody but dismissed it—too long, too troublesome.

She picked up the brush but hesitated. Yan Luo stepped forward, took the brush from her hand, and smiled. “Let me.”

Yan Luo’s expression was serene, her gaze gentle as she looked at Gu Que.

Their eyes met, and Gu Que’s heart raced, her mind thrown into chaos.

What kind of timing is this? Teasing me now?

This is too much.

Her mind overheated, and she recited:

“Over the sea, the moon shines bright;
We gaze at it far apart, yet share the same sight.
Lovers lament the long, lonely night;
All night long, they’re lost in longing’s plight.”

Yan Luo froze. Gu Que finished reciting, but she hadn’t written a single word.

A love poem?

Not quite, but the sentiment was profound.

Prince Guangping applauded. Gu Que remembered the next four lines and, after a pause, continued:

“Blowing out the candle, the moonlight fills the room;
Dressing, I’m bathed in dew’s chilly gloom.
Unable to gift you this luminous bloom,
I return to bed, dreaming of our reunion’s perfume.”

Yan Luo snapped out of her daze. “Unable to gift you this luminous bloom, I return to bed, dreaming of our reunion’s perfume.” Was this about longing for a lover?

She still didn’t write. Prince Guangping took the brush and swiftly transcribed the entire poem, muttering, “Worth it, so worth it.”

Gu Que’s face flushed with embarrassment. Prince Guangping moved to hug her again, but Yan Luo blocked him once more.

The Prince took the poem and left without even attending the banquet, claiming he was going home to fetch the painting.

Gu Que exhaled in relief, telling Yan Luo, “That was written by Zhang Jiuling.”

Yan Luo said nothing, naturally disbelieving her. First Li Bai, now Zhang Jiuling—all fabricated by Gu Que.

Gu Que added, “I have a book of poetry at home. I’ll show it to you sometime.”

“Good.” Yan Luo finally responded.

At that moment, the Empress arrived. Everyone bowed. The Empress scanned the room. “Where’s Prince Guangping?”

The Prince was a poetry-obsessed fool who stayed out of politics, so the Empress trusted him implicitly. Over time, inviting him to banquets had become a habit.

Yan Luo said, “The Prince took a poem and left.”

“What a crazy man.” The Empress sighed, then glanced at Gu Que. “The Young Master is here today. How about composing a poem?”

Gu Que was annoyed, sensing the Empress was deliberately provoking her. She bowed and replied, “Your Majesty, I’ve already composed one, which Prince Guangping took.”

“Retrieve it. I’d like to see it.” The Empress clasped her hands behind her back and ascended the throne.

Eunuchs were dispatched to chase down Prince Guangping.

The banquet began in the hall.

After three rounds of drinks, fireworks lit up the sky outside. From inside the hall, the display was crystal clear. Gu Que remarked, “It looks beautiful now, but how will you clean it when it gets dusty?”

“Slowly.” Yan Luo replied coldly.

Gu Que was stumped. The Emperor owned the world, with tens of thousands of servants in the palace. Cleaning glass was probably a trivial matter.

The young couple maintained their composure, while everyone else in the hall was visibly restless. The dazzling nightscape seemed within arm’s reach—marvelous and breathtaking.

The Empress looked at Gu Que. “Young Master Gu, care to recite another poem?”

Yan Luo spoke first. “Your Majesty, one is enough. More would be excessive. Besides, today the hall is filled with literary talents—no need to trouble a mere scholar.”

The Prime Minister was notoriously protective. The Empress didn’t press further and instead called on Lin Biwen. But with the Young Master’s gem of a poem still fresh in everyone’s minds, no matter how well Lin composed, it couldn’t compare.

The eunuchs failed to retrieve the poem—Prince Guangping had already left by carriage. Reluctantly, they asked Gu Que to rewrite it. Gu Que couldn’t refuse, but Yan Luo stood and said, “I’ll do it.”

Gu Que’s heart warmed.

In truth, Yan Luo wasn’t protecting her—she simply couldn’t stand Gu Que’s atrocious handwriting. It was too ugly, too embarrassing.

Yan Luo despised unsightly things, avoiding even glancing at ugly people. The only exception was Gu Que’s handwriting, though she never mentioned it, so Gu Que remained oblivious to how much Yan Luo loathed her penmanship.

As Yan Luo finished writing, Gu Que’s eyes curved with joy.

After the banquet, Gu Que gazed at her eagerly. Yan Luo suddenly said, “Practice your handwriting at home tomorrow.”

Gu Que was stunned. Yan Luo explained, “During the palace examination, His Majesty said your handwriting was poor. If not for your looks, you wouldn’t have made the top three.”

“Is my handwriting that bad?” Gu Que was baffled. After over a year of practice, it still wasn’t presentable?

Yan Luo nodded. “Did you practice calligraphy as a child?”

“I could write with a pen, but I never liked your brush calligraphy.” Gu Que pulled a black ballpoint pen from her waist pouch and handed it to Yan Luo. “This kind of pen is much lighter and more portable. Try it.”

Yan Luo held it, marveling at its lightness. Unsure how to use it, Gu Que unscrewed the cap, took the pen, and said, “Hold out your palm.”

Yan Luo complied.

Her palm was smooth. Gu Que wrote “Yan Luo” on it.

The tip was small, but ink flowed effortlessly—a wonder.

Yan Luo asked, “Do you have more?”

Gu Que smiled. “Do you want to give them away?”

“Yes. Such a novel item should be shared. Sell them in your shop.” Yan Luo gazed at the delicate characters of her name on her palm, her heart inexplicably calming.

Back at the residence, Yan Luo tried writing with the pen but struggled to adjust her grip.

Gu Que laughed, happily guiding her hand, teaching her how to apply pressure, how to position the pen, even how to control the strokes.

Under the lamplight, their shadows overlapped. Gu Que leaned close to Yan Luo’s cheek, completely unaware of the intimacy.

This time, Tinglan didn’t dare remind her. She could only watch as the two drew closer, the Prime Minister’s eyes no longer cold but glowing differently. And the Young Master—radiant with joy.

Marriage was like this. Strangers before the wedding, slowly building affection afterward. The Young Master and the Prime Minister were like an ordinary couple—harmonious, respectful.

But they were both women. The Young Master should have her own future—how could she sacrifice her entire life like this?

Tinglan clenched her fists, resisting the urge to rush in, even as their laughter echoed in her ears.

If the Prime Minister truly loves the Young Master, what then?

Tinglan was beside herself with worry.

Yan Luo, however, was unusually happy. Using Gu Que’s method, she wrote her own name. The strokes were shaky, but it was undeniably convenient.

Yan Luo pocketed the pen. “Let’s practice together.”

Gu Que didn’t refuse. Here, good handwriting was truly important.

They stayed up late practicing. Yan Luo’s mind was finally occupied with something other than Gu Que, and she soon fell asleep.

As the weather cooled, autumn clothes were prepared. Yan Luo feared the cold, so fox-fur cloaks and thermal pads were stocked in the storeroom.

After the Mid-Autumn Festival, Gu Que was practicing calligraphy when—ding—a notification sounded.

She went online to check. Well, well—the Great Scholar had returned.

Gu Que: Back from Mars?

Great Scholar: Went to the moon. Exploring the mysteries of the universe.

Gu Que: Really? If there’s nothing else, I’m logging off.

Great Scholar: Wait! I found that unofficial history book.

Gu Que: Oh? Go on.

Great Scholar: Yan Luo, the Female Prime Minister of Great Wei, killed Prince Huaizhang and slaughtered his entire household. She maneuvered between the Emperor and the Empress Dowager, killing the Duke of Wei, Prince Xiang, and massacring the entire En Duke’s family—nearly a thousand people.

Gu Que: Who’s Prince Xiang?

Great Scholar: The Emperor’s younger uncle.

Gu Que: Oh. Is there a Gu Yan in the records?

Great Scholar: Yes, Yan Luo’s husband. The unofficial history says he died of illness, but reading between the lines, it seems the Prime Minister had a hand in it.

Gu Que: What about Gu Que?

Great Scholar: No mention. Let me check again when I get back.

Gu Que fell silent. After a long pause, the Great Scholar asked about the ancient paintings in the shop.

Great Scholar: Selling?

Gu Que: Find me the book first?

Great Scholar: It’s in traditional characters, thick, and written in classical Chinese. Can you even understand it? I barely grasped half of it. Like that Gu Que you mentioned—wait, how do you know about Gu Que?

Gu Que: I think I’ve read it before. Just asking. Get me the book, and I’ll give you a 20% discount.

Great Scholar: Fine. I’ll go scrounge up the money. Wait for me.

And just like that, he was gone—here and gone in a flash.

Gu Que returned to practicing calligraphy.

In the afternoon, Tinglan entered. “There’s news—Prince Kangle has been enfeoffed as Prince Xiang by His Majesty. By custom, we must send a gift. What do you think?”

Gu Que’s hand trembled. A drop of ink splattered onto the paper.

Prince Kangle had been enfeoffed as Prince Xiang?

Did that mean the unofficial history was real?

Would Yan Luo truly slaughter the entire dynasty?

Tinglan noticed her reaction. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Have the steward send a gift according to custom.” Gu Que’s heart raced. The Great Scholar had been right about one thing—Yan Luo had massacred Prince Huaizhang’s entire household.

One thing puzzled her: Why would Yan Luo slaughter the entire dynasty? Did she have a penchant for killing?

After months together, Yan Luo didn’t seem as brutal as the Great Scholar described.

Tinglan went to relay the order. Gu Que couldn’t sit still and had a carriage prepared to return to the Marquis’s residence.

The Marquis was surprised to see her. “Did something happen? Or are you short on funds?”

“No, Father. I want to enter the court.” Gu Que hesitated before blurting it out.

The Marquis raised an eyebrow, amused. “What’s gotten into you? Did someone mock you for living off your wife? Or insult you?”

Gu Que wasn’t particularly ambitious, preferring to tinker with her gadgets—something the Marquis knew well. But Gu Que had already made a name for herself in the capital, so her quirks were hardly worth noting.

Gu Que hung her head. She simply wanted to know what Yan Luo was up to.

A voice inside her whispered: No one slaughters an entire dynasty without reason. There must be a cause.

Her goal now was to uncover that cause.

“I’m just bored. Besides, I don’t want to rely on the Prime Minister.” Gu Que offered a flimsy excuse.

The Marquis smiled approvingly. “It’s good that you’re motivated. But you’ll never catch up to Yan Luo in this lifetime. Most men spend their whole lives without ever becoming Prime Minister. And she’s only twenty. Can you match that?”

Gu Que said, “I don’t want to match her. I just want to help her.”

“You?” The Marquis burst out laughing but held back from crushing his daughter’s ambition. “Just don’t drag her down. I can arrange for you to enter the court. By the way, the Huo family’s boy wants to meet you. I said next year. Be prepared. Don’t worry—this marriage will be reserved for you.”

On any other day, Gu Que would have laughed or been delighted. But today, she couldn’t muster the energy.

Leaving the Marquis’s residence, the setting sun painted the western sky. Gu Que felt a surge of panic—as if the world were about to end.

At home, the nursemaid brought Qiongju out for some air. Gu Que had no interest and went straight to her room.

Tinglan asked about dinner.

Gu Que said, “Prepare whatever. By the way, who has the Prime Minister been meeting recently?”

“Oh, how would I know?” Tinglan replied. Who would dare pry into the Prime Minister’s affairs? She wouldn’t dare ask even if she had ten lives to spare.

Gu Que slumped further.

But not long after, Yan Luo returned, changing her clothes and asking, “Did you practice calligraphy today?”

“Prime Minister, I…” Gu Que hesitated, unsure how to broach the subject. If the unofficial history was all nonsense, wouldn’t she be wronging Yan Luo?

Yan Luo paused mid-motion, dismissed the maids, and asked, “Are you troubled?”

The girl was usually so carefree, delighting in countless novelties over the summer. Yan Luo had never seen her frown like this.

Today was strange.

Yan Luo had one matter weighing on her—about Gu Que.

She took the initiative: “Is something wrong with the shop?”

Gu Que shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Prime Minister, I want to enter the court. Do you… think it’s a good idea?”

“Enter the court? A little rabbit jumping into a den of wolves—do you think that’s wise?” Yan Luo mocked. How ridiculous—a rabbit thinking it could hunt wolves. “I don’t want to spend my days figuring out how to bail you out of prison.”

Gu Que deflated, sitting listlessly.

Yan Luo changed into casual attire and sat opposite her. “Why does my husband want to enter the court?”

Gu Que said, “To help you.”

To help you turn over a new leaf.

Gu Que only spoke the first two words, feeling it wasn’t enough. She added solemnly, “Prime Minister, I want you to be safe. When your hair turns white, I want you surrounded by children and grandchildren, peacefully growing old.”

“You?” Yan Luo scoffed, staring at her. “Young Master Gu, do you think I’m too wicked and want to reform me?”

Gu Que shuddered, her eyelashes fluttering uncontrollably, her face pale. Before she could explain, Yan Luo already knew the answer. She smiled. “When everyone else is evil, I’m merely… going with the flow.”

“If everyone else is evil, why must you be clean?”

Gu Que took a sharp breath, swallowing hard. “I can be evil with you.”

“Oh? Do you like me now? Will you live and die with me?” Yan Luo’s smile was radiant as she lifted Gu Que’s chin. “Why don’t I feel your affection?”

Gu Que raised her chin, meeting Yan Luo’s cold, mocking gaze, her heart pounding.

“Young Master, don’t you have desires when you like someone?” Yan Luo leaned in until their faces were almost touching, her eyes reflecting Gu Que’s pallid face. With a smirk, she said, “For example, me—I like you, so I want to devour you.”