After Marrying the Villainous Prime Minister in My Brother’s Stead - Chapter 56

56: Showing Off Affection, Prime Minister Yan Says She Doesn’t Like Her!

It hurt. Gu Que clutched her head as she lay on the bed, groaning in pain.

Yan Luo heard two words: sister-in-law.

In that instant, Gu Que’s subconscious had cast Yan Luo in the role of her sister-in-law.

Or perhaps, from the very beginning, she had only ever been sister-in-law.

On their wedding night, the manicure was for her sister-in-law.

After marriage, the sweet milk was to make her sister-in-law happy.

Even now, everything she did was for her sister-in-law.

Yan Luo laughed, mocking Gu Que: “Gu Que, say it again.”

Gu Que’s forehead throbbed, her consciousness slowly returning. She struggled on the bed but still couldn’t sit up. She didn’t speak either, simply lying back down.

Yan Luo smirked, reaching out to untie Gu Que’s sash. In her subconscious, Gu Que resisted her fiercely.

Gu Que sat up again, hugging the blanket, her eyes misty as she stared straight at Yan Luo: “You’re going too far.”

“Who’s going too far?” Yan Luo raised an eyebrow.

If Gu Que were sober and saw this expression, she would surely say: You’re being mischievous again.

After speaking, Yan Luo continued to tug at Gu Que’s sash. “Going too far? Fine, I’ll just take a look at my husband.”

Gu Que refused, pushing her away with clear reluctance. Yan Luo sneered, retreating slightly as she watched her, not forgetting to threaten: “Tomorrow, I’ll tell everyone you’re a woman.”

Gu Que froze, her beautiful eyes losing their sparkle. The next moment, she collapsed weakly back onto the bed, closing her eyes.

Her head was spinning terribly.

No matter how Yan Luo shook her, she wouldn’t wake up, sleeping like a kitten.

Yan Luo pinched her ears, nibbled her neck—nothing worked.

Finally, Yan Luo gave up, lying down beside her, still mischievously loosening Gu Que’s sash. At a glance, the skin on her abdomen was pale.

Pale and tender.

Gu Que couldn’t bear to be seen. Usually, she wore heavy clothing. The Marquis’s household indulged her every whim, and in private, Gu Que took care of herself, her skin smooth and fair all over.

In fact, this was Yan Luo’s first time seeing a girl’s skin.

After lying down, Yan Luo began to feel restless. But unlike before, she didn’t shy away. Gu Que was indeed a troublemaker, yet she had been of great help to her.

She was willing to get close to her, willing to offer her assistance.

Troublemakers always had their flaws.

Yan Luo believed Gu Que’s flaw was her kindness!

Yan Luo hated people who pretended to be kind the most—those who thought themselves virtuous, doling out small favors while judging others’ morality.

Gu Que was an exception.

Watching the person beside her sleep soundly, Yan Luo’s heart suddenly grew calm. She simply gazed quietly, her mind filled with images of Gu Que.

So many versions of Gu Que.

Yan Luo tugged at Gu Que’s collar. Gu Que’s eyelashes fluttered. Yan Luo leaned in, pressing against her shoulder: “Call me sister-in-law again.”

Such audacity.

Gu Que opened her eyes briefly, then closed them again, ignoring her.

Yan Luo tugged again, biting her neck.

Gu Que kept sleeping.

Oh well, the alcohol’s taken over—she’s out like a log.

Yan Luo tucked the blanket around her and stopped teasing.

The next morning, Yan Luo went to court while Gu Que remained asleep. Tinglan was reassigned to help in the kitchen.

At court, Yan Luo learned that Prince Huaizhang’s tomb had been dug up. As a prince, his burial site had been selected and constructed before his death.

A few days ago, the tomb was robbed. The treasures buried with him were stolen, and his bones were missing.

The court officials were abuzz with the news. Yan Luo walked past without paying attention.

After court, the Empress summoned Yan Luo, asking directly: “Was it you?”

“Your Majesty jokes. What would I want with his corpse?” Yan Luo smiled faintly. “I’ve heard Prince Huaizhang’s crimes were innumerable. It’s only natural his enemies would desecrate his tomb.”

The Empress frowned. “Then who did it?”

Wen Fu stood to the side, quietly glancing at the Prime Minister. From her angle, she could only see Yan Luo’s profile, her jawline elegant yet cold.

After that brief look, she lowered her gaze.

Yan Luo remained silent. The Empress didn’t press further, instead bringing up Wen Fu’s situation.

Yan Luo’s smile faded. “Your Majesty’s personal affairs are not for me to comment on.”

The Empress smiled. “A-Fu and I are deeply attached. I feel she deserves recognition.”

Yan Luo nodded. “Congratulations, Your Majesty.”

The Empress’s smile froze. Yan Luo’s congratulations unsettled her. Logically, Yan Luo should have objected. She asked: “You approve?”

“Your Majesty’s personal affairs are not for me to interfere with. I have matters to attend to and shall take my leave.” Yan Luo bowed and exited the hall.

As she stepped over the threshold, the smile on her lips deepened. Wen Fu was a tender trap, ensnaring the Empress’s senses. If Gu Que were presented to her, the sovereign might never attend morning court again.

But not now. The Empress must remain a dignified ruler, not obsessed with personal affairs.

Lost in thought, Yan Luo found herself on the palace path, her gaze meeting the azure sky as her smile faded.

Back at her office, Lu Song arrived.

The two spoke privately, guards stationed outside. After a while, Lu Song left.

Then several others entered, not emerging until noon.

Yan Luo was about to return home for lunch when a palace eunuch arrived, whispering: “Prime Minister, the Empress Dowager summons you.”

“For what reason?” Yan Luo frowned, her expression clearly saying: I don’t want to go.

But an imperial decree from the Empress Dowager could not be refused.

Reluctantly, Yan Luo went. In front of the eunuch, she instructed her attendant: “Go tell the Young Master that I won’t be returning for lunch. Tell her to eat alone.”

The attendant left to deliver the message as Yan Luo boarded her carriage for the palace.

Upon arrival, she learned that the Empress had stabbed one of the Empress Dowager’s favorites to death—a man named Zhang Min, a male concubine.

Zhang Min, drunk, had been wandering the palace when he encountered Wen Fu and immediately pounced on her.

Wen Fu was knocked to the ground, her head bleeding. She fainted on the spot. The eunuchs accompanying her were terrified and quickly dragged Zhang Min away.

Zhang Min was brought before the Empress, who said nothing, drawing a guard’s sword and plunging it into his heart. Furious, she took the sword to confront the Empress Dowager.

Men like Zhang Min were forbidden from roaming the palace, but the Empress Dowager had indulged them. Besides Zhang Min, there were over a dozen others.

The Empress had them all seized and executed on the spot.

Bl00d stained the Ciming Palace.

The Empress Dowager fainted from fright. The Empress, unrelenting, decreed that no men were to enter the palace grounds henceforth.

After the Empress left, the Empress Dowager summoned the Prime Minister.

Yan Luo didn’t know why she was being summoned, but she was bound to face reprimands. Yet refusal wasn’t an option. Yan Luo sent someone to seek the Empress’s help.

Sure enough, before she even reached the palace gates, the Empress Dowager was already furious. As in the past, when the princess erred, her companions were the ones punished.

Yan Luo entered and endured a scolding, bearing the brunt of the Empress Dowager’s anger over losing her favorites. The matter wasn’t significant, so Yan Luo didn’t argue, standing silently through the reprimand.

In the past, kneeling in punishment would have been demanded.

After the tirade, the Empress Dowager’s anger subsided. After all, Yan Luo was now the Prime Minister. She waved her hand: “Prime Minister, advise Her Majesty to observe propriety in the future.”

Yan Luo assented and withdrew from Ciming Palace.

Noon had long passed. Hungry, Yan Luo left the palace for lunch.

Outside the palace gates, she spotted the Gu family carriage from afar. Had Gu Que been worried and sent someone to wait?

Approaching the carriage, Gu Que emerged, beaming: “Prime Minister, are you hungry?”

“Young Master Gu has brought lunch?” Yan Luo tested.

Gu Que pulled her into the carriage. “Yes.”

“It’s stuffy in here. I’ll have someone bring tables and chairs so we can eat outside.” Yan Luo beckoned to the guards in the distance.

Two guards hurried over, bowing: “Prime Minister.”

“Bring tables and chairs. I’ll have lunch here.”

The guards quickly arranged it.

Gu Que brought out the food boxes, asking why the Empress Dowager had summoned her.

A shaded pavilion was set up along the long palace path, where the Prime Minister ate her lunch. Passing officials were astonished, inevitably inquiring.

Upon learning the details, they pondered privately—the Empress Dowager and the Empress had never been on good terms. After this incident, their relationship would likely become irreparable.

Gu Que didn’t grasp the subtleties, excitedly showcasing the new dishes she’d prepared—all fresh, light, and appetizing.

Yan Luo ate slowly, her movements elegant. Since they were in public, Gu Que minded her manners, sitting upright instead of slouching as she did at home.

The meal lasted half an hour. Without anyone needing to spread the word, the capital soon learned of the Prime Minister’s loving marriage—the Young Master delivering lunch to the palace gates.

A lavish display of affection!

This time, Gu Que was more cautious, asking about the Empress Dowager’s summons. Yan Luo summarized, and Gu Que frowned: “The Empress resents the Empress Dowager, and the Empress Dowager blames the Empress for humiliating her. Mother and daughter are at odds. But the worst off is Lady Wen—the Empress will likely never touch her again.”

Monarchs were fickle—they wouldn’t touch someone another had defiled.

Yan Luo lifted her gaze: “How do you know about Wen Fu and the Empress?”

“Zhi Zhi told me.” Gu Que smiled guiltily. In truth, she’d coaxed the information out of Zhi Zhi with gifts. To understand Yan Luo better, she had to start with those close to her.

Yan Luo glanced at Zhi Zhi in the distance and snorted softly: “Traitor.”

After lunch, Yan Luo returned to the palace to see the Empress, while Gu Que went home.

Gu Que visited Chunri Fanghua. The shop was desolate, its business far worse than before—clearly declining.

Next, she checked her own shop. The soap business wasn’t thriving either, but there was still stock. Once sold out, she’d stop. Perhaps she’d switch to other small ventures.

Gu Que hadn’t decided yet. She’d wait for the soap craze to pass. Selling off-season fruits might be a good alternative.

Returning home, the day was over.

Qiong Ju could sit up now. Her small bed had been brought out, and she sat steadily, holding a dissolving bean to eat.

The beans were made by Tinglan following Gu Que’s instructions. Some had been sent to Qing Zhi as well.

Qiong Ju didn’t know how to eat them, crushing them in her hand. The wet nurse wiped her hands clean.

As Gu Que approached, Yan Luo returned—they arrived one after the other.

Yan Luo went to hold Qiong Ju, while Gu Que turned back inside—her online friend had messaged her.

Great Scholar: I found the book, but it’s obscure. Are you sure you want it?

Gu Que didn’t reply, feeling conflicted.

Gu Que: How does it end?

Great Scholar: “The dynasty falls, the world mourns.”

Gu Que: Got it. By the way, do you have any books on cannons?

Great Scholar: Some, but nothing cutting-edge. What kind do you need?

Gu Que: Something that could be made under ancient conditions.

Great Scholar: Are you messing with me?

Gu Que: I need it in a few days.

Great Scholar: Fine. Oh, I came to tell you—you’re really focused on this Prime Minister. The book mentions a “beauty’s heart, bone-ash porcelain.” She had a habit of making cups from people’s bones and giving them to their loved ones.

Gu Que: What nonsense are you spouting?

Great Scholar: It’s in the book, not my invention.

Gu Que: Send me the book. I don’t believe your nonsense.

Great Scholar: Where do you live? I’ll mail it.

Gu Que: No need. Just list it on Taobao.

Gu Que logged off, frustrated. Unofficial histories were just that—nonsense, pure fabrication.

Frowning, she stepped outside, where Yan Luo was playing happily with the child. Qiong Ju’s eyes were small, perhaps inherited from Li Niang. When she smiled, they narrowed into slits. Yan Luo teased her: “With eyes so small, you’ll need to open them wide when choosing a husband later.”

The wet nurse laughed. “They’ll grow with time.”

“Really? I think they’re fine as they are.” Yan Luo’s expression softened. After playing a while, she handed the child back.

“Young Master, why the long face? Something troubling you?” Yan Luo approached Gu Que on the steps, adjusting her collar—the red marks were still visible.

Gu Que avoided her touch, fixing her clothes herself. Meeting Yan Luo’s gentle gaze, she recalled Great Scholar’s words: Beauty’s heart, bone-ash porcelain.

Yan Luo smiled. “What’s bothering you?”

She couldn’t understand Gu Que’s mindset. Why work so hard opening shops and planting rice when she could win by doing nothing?

Wasn’t lazing around comfortable?

Look at Wen Fu—much smarter, winning without effort.

Gu Que didn’t answer. Yan Luo offered advice: “Why not learn from Wen Fu? She succeeds without trying. What about you?”

Toiling day and night, exhausting yourself—for what?

Gu Que said: “Charming others with beauty isn’t sustainable. One must rely on oneself. The Prime Minister is a fine example—reaching the pinnacle through her own efforts. I lack your capability, but a roof over my head and a modest income are enough.”

Yan Luo pondered this. “Let’s talk inside.”

Gu Que had ideals, yet they aligned with most commoners—unremarkable, even mediocre among the nobility.

To the aristocratic families, this was sheer lack of ambition. Even Leng Mian called her weak.

But in small matters, she showed remarkable resilience. As a woman without privilege, even burdened by Gu Yan’s legacy, she should have settled into life with Yan Luo after marriage, waiting for Gu Yan’s return before marrying a man, bearing children, and aging quietly.

Gu Que was a paradox.

Yan Luo couldn’t figure her out. But one thing was clear—Gu Que possessed countless virtues. Seen this way, she was a unique, extraordinary woman.

Inside, they sat by the window, facing each other. Gu Que brought out pastries and opened a carbonated drink.

These oddities no longer fazed Yan Luo. She took a sip of the fizzy orange liquid—sweet, so she drank more.

Gu Que said: “There’s a saying: so happy it bubbles inside. That’s this feeling. When I first met the Prime Minister, this was my mood.”

Yan Luo was expressive, while Gu Que kept things hidden. Their first meeting had indeed struck her with awe.

Recalling it now, her heart still bubbled with joy.

The pastry was steamed sponge cake, melting in the mouth. Yan Luo took a bite. “Not as good as mousse cake.”

“Prime Minister, let me gift you a mythical beast.” Gu Que remembered Yan Luo’s exhausted demeanor upon leaving the palace.

“Mythical beast?” Yan Luo laughed.

Gu Que hopped off the couch, rummaging through a cabinet before producing a sheet of paper: “A mythical beast—more comfortable than riding a horse.”

“Electric bike?” Yan Luo read the words on the paper. “This is a vehicle?”

Gu Que hurried over, pointing at the drawing: “I’ll take you to the warm house tomorrow to see it. If you like it, great. If not, forget it. But it only runs for three or four hours before needing a recharge.”

Yan Luo studied the “mythical beast,” intrigued, her elegant finger poking the two wheels. “Is it alive?”

“No, it doesn’t feel pain. Horses tire, but this runs as long as it has power.” Gu Que enthusiastically promoted it. “But…”

She hesitated. The Prime Minister’s dignified image might suffer riding an electric bike.

“What’s wrong?” Yan Luo noticed her hesitation. “Changed your mind?”

Gu Que shook her head, eyes bright. “Prime Minister, you’re so elegant—riding this might be improper.”

“Really?” Yan Luo didn’t look up, still examining the “beast.” “Perhaps. But since you’re giving it to me… is it faster than a horse?”

“Horses are faster. This is just convenient. But it’s very stylish.” Gu Que couldn’t help laughing. “Remember to wear riding clothes.”

Yan Luo was skeptical, but since Gu Que was happy, she didn’t press further.

Looking at the glossy drawing, she suddenly remembered something: “What about the cannons?”

“Still searching. Give me a few more days. Prime Minister, I can give you this kind.” Gu Que returned to the cabinet, pulling out a book from the Republican era with cannon designs and other secrets.

The Great Wei’s current artillery was likely primitive, similar to ancient Ming Dynasty cannons. But technology advanced rapidly. Even with blueprints, the Great Wei couldn’t produce such sophisticated weapons.

Yan Luo took the book, studying it intently. When she saw handheld firearms, her eyes gleamed. “Are there blueprints?”

“Not sure. I’ll know in a few days. These are for the battlefield, but the firepower seems weak. Look at the cannons.” Gu Que reached to turn the page, but Yan Luo stopped her, her gaze profound.

Yan Luo’s hand was icy, her grip firm, turning Gu Que’s fingers pale. “Prime Minister.”

“Young Master Gu, I like this.” Yan Luo’s lips curved into a smile as she slowly released Gu Que, her eyes suddenly alight with brilliance.

Gu Que withdrew her hand, staring incredulously: “Prime Minister, for a moment, I thought you’d devour me.”

“Devouring you sounds good too.” Yan Luo looked up, smiling as she pinched Gu Que’s chin. “Last night, you clung to me, kissing me endlessly.”

“I don’t believe you.” Gu Que wasn’t fooled this time.

Yan Luo said: “Young Master, like the Empress, I adore young girls—especially ones as adorable as you. You’re so cute, I can’t bear to give you to anyone else.”

Gu Que’s smile vanished. Did the Prime Minister dislike men?

Had all those cries of husband been for nothing?

Gu Que didn’t believe it. Yan Luo smiled, but a spark had ignited in her dark eyes—lit by Gu Que, destined to blaze for her.

“Should I prepare some women for you?” Gu Que ventured.

The room was silent. Gu Que watched Yan Luo’s expression shift from shock to confusion, questioning the marriage’s true purpose.

Wasn’t it marital harmony and children?

In this marriage, the Gu family’s lower status made them passive, everything in Yan Luo’s hands. Gu Que understood the Gu family’s goals, but what were Yan Luo’s?

At this moment, Gu Que realized Yan Luo’s motives weren’t pure.

Everyone assumed the Prime Minister married Young Master Gu for his beauty. If that premise was false, why marry?

Her doubts amused Yan Luo.

Yan Luo sighed: “Little Young Master Gu, your family has ulterior motives. Can’t I have my own goals?”

Gu Que asked: “What are the Prime Minister’s goals?”

Yan Luo pondered seriously. Originally, it was to please Third Madam. After marriage, she discovered Gu Que’s uniqueness.

Yan Luo said: “All women must marry—it’s custom, it’s natural. I merely thought you the most suitable. Now, I see you truly are. Young Master Gu, do you think I suit you?”

Did she?

Privately, Gu Que thought so too. Setting aside politics, Yan Luo was mischievous, coquettish, yet considerate. Gu Que had indeed enjoyed peaceful days.

From the heart, she loved this tranquility. She loved Yan Luo’s beauty, her strategic brilliance, her shelter from storms.

But behind this peace lay Gu Yan.

Remembering Gu Yan, Gu Que sobered completely. She met Yan Luo’s gaze, her lips curving into a helpless smile: “Suitability isn’t mine to decide, Prime Minister. You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

Suddenly, Yan Luo’s antics seemed endearing.

Gu Que grinned foolishly.

Yan Luo watched her, silent for a long while.

“Young Master, your sister is dying,” Yan Luo said abruptly.

Gu Que rolled her eyes, barely stopping herself from retorting your sister’s the one dying. She held back, saying: “No, my sister will recover.”

“Unlikely. If she dies, perhaps the world will know peace. The Empress will stop coveting her, and the Marquis’s household will stabilize. Don’t you agree?” Yan Luo’s tone was meaningful. Perhaps killing Gu Yan would clip Gu Que’s wings, leaving her no escape.

She wanted to be the villain.

Tsk, tsk—Gu Que was truly a menace.

They were an arm’s length apart. Yan Luo reached out, easily cupping Gu Que’s face, sighing: “Young Master, if you were a woman, I’d be devoted to you, faithful till death.”

Gu Que rolled her eyes again: “So because I’m not a woman, you’ll cuckold me?”

“An idea. I hear your sister resembles you closely. Why not divorce, and you can marry her to me? That way, your family’s future is secure.” Yan Luo spoke earnestly, as if it were a real plan.

Gu Que was stunned again: “My sister doesn’t like you either.”

“No matter. I’ll make her like me. But giving me to another—doesn’t that pain you?” Yan Luo’s fingertip traced Gu Que’s lips, her eyes brimming with tenderness. “Could you bear to part with me?”

“You don’t like me?” Gu Que was accustomed to Yan Luo’s declarations of love. Now, hearing Yan Luo might love another, her heart hollowed.

Yan Luo smiled, her eyes seductive yet pure. “I don’t like you. I adore young girls.”

Gu Que fell silent.

Before this, she’d been prepared. Lin Huiyin once said: If you hold me close, cherish me deeply, and shield me from harm, I’m willing to blind myself to whether you’re human or ghost.

Yet now, the Prime Minister said she didn’t like her.