After Marrying the Villainous Prime Minister in My Brother’s Stead - Chapter 60

60: Revelation—Shall I Wear It for You?

Yan Luo was willingly deceived.

The two sat indoors eating barbecue. Gu Que ate meat, while Yan Luo enjoyed “ice cream.”

Suddenly, Gu Que asked, “Would you like some grilled cold noodles?”

Yan Luo glanced at her: “What did cold noodles do to offend you? Why grill them?”

“Cold noodles are a type of food, not a person,” Gu Que replied, experiencing a new kind of amusement.

Yan Luo swept her gaze over Gu Que: “Do you have grilled persimmons?”

“Persimmons are sweet and delicious without grilling. I’ll let you try them another day, but they’re very cooling—just one is enough. Oh right, barbecue pairs well with TV dramas. Want to watch one?” Gu Que excitedly went to fetch her tablet.

She had asked the shop to download many TV dramas for her.

Yan Luo had already learned how to use the tablet. She swiped through it, and under Gu Que’s guidance, opened a video about the Tang Dynasty poet Li Bai.

“The Great Tang?” Yan Luo was puzzled. “I’ve never heard of the Great Tang.”

Gu Que explained, “You know Confucius but not Li Bai, Bai Juyi, or Yang Wanli. I think they must have come later.”

From this, she deduced that this dynasty existed between the time of Confucius and the Tang Dynasty.

Apart from that unofficial history book, there were no records of this dynasty in history. Perhaps it was too mysterious, or perhaps she had entered the world of that unofficial history.

Both were possible.

Yan Luo watched intently. When she saw that the three “Qing Ping Diao” poems were written for a noble consort, she finally believed that Gu Que’s poems were borrowed from others.

Here, no one knew of Li Bai—only Yongle Marquis’ heir, Gu Yan.

Yan Luo watched the entire video in one sitting and sighed in admiration: “He’s extraordinary, surpassing all mortals. That ‘Invitation to Wine’ is magnificent, stirring the soul. ‘The vast desert is covered with hundred-foot ice’—such breadth and depth of emotion, how could ordinary people compare?”

Gu Que nodded repeatedly: “He’s a representative of the Romantic poetry school. Oh, and there’s also Li Qingzhao.”

She quickly opened another video. “She’s a poet of the Graceful School, like you—a rare talent among women.”

“What’s the Graceful School? Is it about being subtle and restrained?” Yan Luo asked curiously.

Gu Que explained: “Graceful poetry typically expresses emotions in a gentle, implicit manner, similar to what you mentioned. It often focuses on themes of love and parting, very different from Li Bai. Li Qingzhao is even known as the ‘Greatest Talent Among Women.’ She came from a scholarly family and lived a privileged life in her youth, much like noble daughters today. Her early poetry was lively and cheerful. Later, after marriage and national turmoil, her style underwent a dramatic change.”

“Marriage, national turmoil…” Yan Luo murmured, her eyes deepening.

Gu Que pulled up two of Li Qingzhao’s most iconic poems for comparison: “Dream Song” and “Slow, Slow Song.”

Without Gu Que needing to explain, Yan Luo understood the meaning behind them and sighed: “To think they came from the same person.”

Gu Que lamented: “When a nation suffers, its people are the ones who suffer most.”

Yan Luo smiled faintly, turned off the video, and said, “I’m going back to the study.”

She was in a low mood. Gu Que pressed her lips together, took the tablet, and watched her leave without another word.

Maids came in to clean up, filing in one after another.

Once the room was tidied, only Gu Que remained. She hugged the tablet, her gaze vacant.

Had Yan Luo understood her meaning?

She must have.

That night, the cold wind howled outside. Yan Luo sat in the study, clutching a hand warmer, staring at her transcription of “Slow, Slow Song.”

Searching, seeking, endlessly alone,
Desolate, miserable, bleak, forlorn.

Was it sorrowful?

It must have been. It was hard to imagine this was written by the same girl who composed “Dream Song,” the playful child who “lingered until dusk, then drifted home on the boat, lost amid lotus flowers in full bloom.”

Yan Luo took a deep breath and glanced at the glass of milk a maid had brought her. She picked it up and took a quiet sip.

Granny Sun said her health had improved significantly. The daily milk was uninterrupted—proof of Gu Que’s care.

The next morning, Yan Luo attended court. The Emperor had returned, and the case of Prince Xiang was finally on the agenda.

After a joint trial by the Ministry of Justice, the Court of Judicial Review, and the Censorate, Prince Xiang was declared innocent. The charge of mismanagement was dismissed, and the explosives department was handed over to Wen Fu, a Secretariat Drafter.

After a month of hard work, the Prime Minister was sidelined.

After court adjourned, Lu Song was indignant. Prince Xiang mocked Yan Luo: “Prime Minister Yan, how does it feel to toil for someone else’s benefit?”

“Not great. But for Your Highness to spare me a thought is an honor. Might I invite you for a drink?” Yan Luo remained unruffled, smiling faintly.

Prince Xiang glanced at her. Youth was truly a blessing—radiant beauty, brimming with vitality. He scoffed: “No need. I’m busy.”

“Your Highness, what do you think about the tombs of the late Emperor and Prince Huaizhang being robbed? Does that seem normal to you?” Yan Luo stepped forward, standing directly in front of Prince Xiang, her gaze fixed on his face. “What kind of grudge would drive someone to desecrate their graves after death?”

Prince Xiang’s smile froze. A moment later, a chill ran down his spine. “Bandits are rampant. They’ll face divine retribution.”

Yan Luo nodded repeatedly: “Indeed. Divine retribution.”

Under her stare, Prince Xiang felt a surge of fear. He hurried away without daring to look back.

Yan Luo stood still on the Dragon Path, her figure unmoving.

Lu Song, who had lagged behind, caught up and noticed Yan Luo’s smile. “This time, the Wen family must be laughing.”

“Oh? I’ve seen the explosives department. It’s not impressive.” Yan Luo replied. Compared to the books Gu Que had given her, it was nothing. The tomb explosion had just been a test—and the results were excellent. Next time, where should she target?

Perhaps the city gates?

But the capital had nine gates. Which one should she choose?

Yan Luo hadn’t decided yet. She’d think about it later. Also, when would be the best time to act?

She smiled.

Lu Song didn’t understand: “You mean you don’t think much of it?”

“If I did, why would I let someone else take it?” Yan Luo mocked.

Lu Song laughed too. “True enough.”

Two days later, the Wen family held a banquet to celebrate. Yan Luo brought Gu Que along.

Gu Que knew Wen Fu had taken the explosives department from Yan Luo and spent the entire journey comforting her. To her surprise, Yan Luo didn’t care at all. “The explosives department is terrible. What’s the point of keeping it?”

Gu Que: “…”

So she’d been overthinking it.

Curious, she asked, “How bad is it?”

Yan Luo: “Very, very bad. It’s only good for making fireworks. Speaking of which, do you have any pretty fireworks?”

Gu Que rubbed her temples: “No.”

Yan Luo shot her a look: “Stingy. Fireworks can’t even kill people.”

Gu Que stayed silent. It wasn’t about being stingy—it was just too troublesome. Besides, modern fireworks couldn’t be replicated with the technology here. And right now, she couldn’t even buy fireworks on Taobao. If she wanted them, she’d have to make them herself.

It was a day off, and many came to congratulate Wen Fu. After all, snatching benefits from Prime Minister Yan proved Wen Fu’s capability.

Coincidentally, as Gu Que stepped out of the carriage, the carriage in front belonged to Princess Jinyang. The princess and her consort descended together.

Lin Biwen had never held an official position—not even a minor post in the Hanlin Academy. The title of royal consort was purely honorary.

The four exchanged greetings. Gu Que and Yan Luo bowed, while Lin Biwen returned a half-bow: “Prime Minister.”

Princess Jinyang glanced at Gu Que before leading her consort inside.

Naturally, Gu Que and Yan Luo followed. Gu Que asked quietly, “Why are they here too?”

Yan Luo whispered back: “Consort Lin has nothing to do at home.”

Gu Que understood. In some dynasties, royal consorts weren’t allowed to hold official positions. Perhaps Lin Biwen was just an unlucky consort.

Wen Fu was radiant with joy. While others braced against the winter wind, hers was a spring breeze.

The reception hall was spacious. Many guests clustered in groups to chat. The Wen family, like the Yan family, was an aristocratic clan with many branches. Gu Que didn’t recognize anyone and chose not to enter, standing with Yan Luo under the eaves to observe.

Many young men were talking—about Wen Fu.

Wen Fu was a delicate beauty, her loveliness tinged with fragility. She lacked an imposing aura, the kind that made men want to protect her.

Several young men wished to marry her, discussing the Wen family’s criteria for a son-in-law.

Gu Que listened for a while, confused. Wen Fu was already the Emperor’s woman—could she still be betrothed to someone else?

Yan Luo, as if reading her mind, leaned in to explain: “A grown woman should marry. A desirable daughter attracts countless suitors. Her affair with the Emperor is a secret—only a few know. Even the Wen family might be in the dark.”

Gu Que gasped: “That’s possible?”

Yan Luo nodded: “There’s no internet here. News doesn’t spread that fast.”

“Oh ho, you even know about the internet?” Gu Que was amazed. “You learn quickly.”

Yan Luo smiled: “Then how about a kiss as a reward?”

“In your dreams.” Gu Que turned away, watching the young men in front of her. She suddenly thought of Huo Chengru and asked about him.

Yan Luo said, “Do you miss him?”

“Why would I? I don’t know many people. He’s similar to these young men—I was just wondering what he’s doing now.”

“He’s with Wu Qing.” Yan Luo didn’t elaborate.

After standing for a while, the banquet began. The social butterfly didn’t attend, and Gu Que didn’t drink. The two had come happily and left sober.

A few days later, New Year’s Eve approached. The Yan family sent three cartloads of gifts. Grateful, Gu Que reciprocated generously.

Gift-giving was customary.

On New Year’s Eve, court would be suspended. Yan Luo planned to feign illness to skip the banquet. Gu Que asked if she wanted to celebrate at the Yan family home.

Yan Luo refused: “Married women can’t stay with their natal families for the New Year.”

Gu Que racked her brain: “What about the warm house?”

It was time to resolve some things. The festive atmosphere might help smooth things over.

“Alright, the warm house it is. Bring Granny Sun along. Send Qiong Ju back to the marquis’s residence to celebrate with Qing Zhi.” Yan Luo added, “Tell the servants to be careful—don’t let her catch a chill.”

Gu Que also didn’t want to return to the marquis’s residence. She couldn’t bear facing the Madam.

Every meeting involved endless talk about how hard her brother had it—enough to make her ears callous.

Once plans were settled, Gu Que began preparations: distributing bonuses to the servants and granting them leave to return home for the holidays. Most servants in the Gu residence were from the marquis’s household, with some from the Yan family. Only a handful had been purchased separately.

The bonuses were generous. Gu Que also allowed Ting Lan to return to the marquis’s residence.

Ting Lan watched her master’s cheerful expression, her eyes flickering uncertainly. Many words remained unspoken, swallowed back.

The New Year’s atmosphere was everywhere, especially in the Gu residence. The servants, thrilled about the holiday leave, chattered excitedly.

The sunlight was warm, bathing Gu Que as she lounged on a recliner, listening to the maids’ lively chatter. A sense of joy welled up in her heart.

The New Year was a time for family reunions—laughing, chatting, watching the Spring Festival Gala together. Sadly, there was no Gala here.

Gu Que felt a pang of loss. The maids began talking about fireworks.

“They set off fireworks at the city gates. Wealthy households do it too.”

“Really? I’ve been at the marquis’s residence for years and never saw any fireworks.”

“The marquis’s residence doesn’t do that…”

Gu Que opened her eyes and looked at them: “Are fireworks really that beautiful?”

“Yes! Even prettier than rainbows.”

Gu Que asked: “Where can I buy them?”

This stumped the maids. They rarely left the residence and knew little about the outside world. Such rare items wouldn’t be found in the markets.

Gu Que said, “I’ll send someone to ask. If we can buy some, I’ll send them to the marquis’s residence so you can enjoy them.”

“Really?”

“Young Master is so kind!”

Gu Que froze. Her fair skin glowed pink in the sunlight, her slender neck as white as jade—elegant and refined.

She wondered: Would Prime Minister Yan like them?

For an ordinary woman, the answer would be obvious. But Yan Luo was no ordinary woman—her thoughts ran deep.

Gu Que could delight the maids but wasn’t sure how to bring joy to Yan Luo during the New Year.

She lay back, closing her eyes to bask in the sun.

By the eve of New Year’s Eve, everything was ready. All that remained was to wait for the night to pass and the celebrations to begin.

After much thought, Gu Que still hadn’t come up with anything. She opened her eyes—the sunlight had weakened. The sun was setting, and dusk approached.

She gazed silently at the rosy clouds on the horizon, her eyes distant. Ting Lan approached: “What are you looking at?”

“Ting Lan, they think fireworks are beautiful, so I’ll buy fireworks for them. That makes them happy. But the one I should be pleasing isn’t them.” Gu Que said.

Ting Lan lowered her head: “Young Master, don’t you think this isn’t right?”

“Ting Lan, don’t feel pressured. I’m fine. If you still have no plans, I’ll have the Prime Minister arrange a match for you. Her taste is excellent—it won’t be bad. Besides, with her arranging it, your future in-laws wouldn’t dare mistreat you.” Gu Que spoke casually. She alone would stay here. After tomorrow night, the secret would no longer be a secret.

“Young Master, are you abandoning me?” Ting Lan wept.

Gu Que smiled softly, looking up at her: “How could that be? I just think you’re worrying day and night here. It’s better to find a good family and live your own life. Ting Lan, you’ve been with me for so many years—I won’t mistreat you. Only by living your own life can you find happiness. Right now, I feel content. You see my suffering, but in truth, I’m enjoying it.”

Ting Lan cried harder, eventually kneeling: “Granny Sun knows you’re a woman. That night, everything I said was at her direction. The Prime Minister also knows you’re the second daughter of the Gu family.”

“Oh…” Gu Que was stunned, her eyes losing focus for a moment. So she was the fool all along.

All those lines—”Husband is so handsome,” “Husband, let’s have a child,” “Shall we consummate our marriage?”—were just jokes to Yan Luo.

Gu Que lay back, staring at the sunset as the light slowly returned to her eyes. Ting Lan sobbed uncontrollably: “We were all wrong. Before the marriage, the Prime Minister already knew.”

“Eldest Sister-in-law is truly clever.” Gu Que smiled faintly, the tightness in her chest easing. “It’s fine. If nothing happened after all this time, nothing will happen in the future.”

Eldest Sister-in-law was, after all, a kind-hearted person.

Kind-hearted?

Gu Que laughed again. Perhaps that kindness was reserved for her alone—not for others.

How wonderful Eldest Sister-in-law was.

“Ting Lan, don’t scare yourself. Take your bonus and go home for the New Year. Isn’t that nice? Why can’t you see that?” Gu Que’s lips curled into a relaxed smile. “If you don’t go back, I’ll take you to a new place for the New Year tomorrow.”

“Really?” Ting Lan wiped her tears. “I don’t want to leave you.”

Gu Que sighed: “You’re so silly. Why insist on following me instead of living your own life? So unambitious.”

Ting Lan laughed through her tears: “Aren’t you silly too?”

Gu Que said: “Yes, I am. Let me tell you, Prime Minister Yan is also silly—utterly ridiculous.”

Especially when she saw the air conditioner. That dumbfounded look, asking if it was some kind of “Frozen Palm” technique.

Both master and servant laughed as the sun set, darkness enveloping the world.

The Gu residence had received gifts daily recently, and the gatekeepers were overwhelmed by visitors refusing to leave.

Gu Que’s gift list grew thicker by the day, far surpassing the profits from her business ventures over the past year or two.

It seemed her vision had been too narrow. Being an official was far more lucrative.

She skimmed the list and ordered everything returned. As the saying went, “The receiver is indebted.” Only by returning them could she have peace.

But the messengers reported that no one was willing to take them back. Puzzled, Gu Que wondered: What could drive people to persistently offer money?

Upon inquiring, she learned they were all seeking favors from Prime Minister Yan—hoping for promotions or transfers next year. Once a term ended in one place, officials were either promoted or relocated. Their destinations lay in Yan Luo’s hands.

Regions like Jiangnan were wealthy, and many scrambled for postings there. If Prime Minister Yan accepted the money, the matter was as good as settled. They could relax and await their assignments next year.

Everywhere, there were hidden rules. Gu Que, an outsider, laughed after hearing a few examples. So, Prime Minister Yan was truly formidable.

Whether to accept the gifts or not wasn’t her decision to make. She’d wait for Yan Luo to handle it.

Meticulously, she compiled a list matching each family’s gifts with their requests, placing it in the bedroom for Yan Luo to review later.

Gu Que had finally done something proper. After finishing, she placed it in the bedroom. The sky was dark, but the people outside still waited. They huddled in the alley by the side gate, braving the freezing cold. Unable to bear it, Gu Que had them invited into the gatehouse for a hot meal.

At least they’d be warmer.

After giving the order, the steward glanced at the young master, then went to carry it out.

Gu Que understood that glance—it was disdain. She smiled. So what if it was? She wasn’t of this era. She couldn’t be so ruthless. To her, kindness wasn’t a flaw. A simple meal was nothing.

When Yan Luo returned and heard about it, she accepted Gu Que’s approach without objection. She waved her hand, instructing the gifts to be accepted and the visitors sent away with rewards.

Gu Que sat in the room reading a novel. The room was warm, the brazier blazing. When Yan Luo entered, she saw Gu Que’s faintly upturned lips.

“What’s so amusing?”

Without looking up, Gu Que said, “They kissed. I feel like a proud mother.”

Yan Luo didn’t understand: “What’s it to you?”

“The audience gets nervous too.” Gu Que climbed out of bed and looked up, meeting Yan Luo’s gaze.

For a moment, silence enveloped them as their eyes locked.

Gu Que’s eyes reflected the candlelight—and Yan Luo’s face. Yan Luo remained calm, looking away first: “Any ‘chasing wife to the crematorium’ plots?”

When it came to novels, Yan Luo was no amateur. She’d learned all the tropes: chasing wives to the crematorium, reconciliation after separation, childhood sweethearts, and more. She even sought out the “chasing wife” plots specifically.

Gu Que teased her: “Are ‘chasing wife’ stories any good? Isn’t ‘marriage before love’ better?”

“According to the books, the Great Wei is full of ‘marriage before love’ plots. Boring. By the way, I accepted all the gifts. Keep any you like. Did you send gifts to the marquis’s residence?” Yan Luo remembered official business. The Gu residence’s custom was to reciprocate after receiving gifts.

But the marquis’s residence hadn’t sent anything, so there was nothing to return. Gu Que didn’t understand these matters. The steward had mentioned it once, but Yan Luo had been too busy to follow up.

It had slipped her mind.

Gu Que was clueless: “Do we need to send gifts to family?”

Yan Luo chuckled: “Once separated, it’s proper. It’s too late now. The Madam will surely twist your ear when you return.”

She knew better than anyone that Marquis Yongle’s Madam favored her son far more than Gu Que.

“If we didn’t send them, so be it. We’ll bring generous gifts on New Year’s Day. Surely parents won’t hold it against their son.”

Yan Luo, stunningly beautiful and regal, removed her cloak and sat by the brazier, her demeanor icy. Gu Que watched her, wanting to say something but unsure how.

Yan Luo, sensitive to cold, warmed herself by the fire, her expression unreadable.

Gu Que said, “Go bathe. The water’s ready.”

A hot soak would make her feel better.

Yan Luo stood, glancing at her sidelong: “Husband, you seem different today.”

Gu Que grinned, touching her face: “Must be because I’m even more handsome than yesterday.”

Yan Luo was taken aback: “How shameless.”

“Learned from you.” Gu Que snickered.

Yan Luo narrowed her eyes, grabbed her hand, and said: “When my father bullied my mother, she’d hit him.”

The Third Madam had a gentle temperament—except toward the Third Master. Once, while arguing with him indoors, she’d suddenly taken a feather duster to him, beating him until he yelped.

No one would have guessed the elegant Third Madam was capable of such violence.

Gu Que was startled and quickly burrowed under the blankets: “You’re so refined—how could you hit someone? Besides, beating people during the New Year is bad luck.”

Yan Luo shot her a look, then pointed to her cheek: “Well?”

This was deadly. Gu Que crawled out, leaned in, and kissed her: “Go bathe.”

Yan Luo gazed at her tenderly: “Good husband, shall we bathe together?”

Gu Que shrank back: “No.”

Yan Luo left in a huff, tossing a threat over her shoulder: “One day, we’ll bathe together.”

Gu Que laughed. One day—but when would that day come?

On New Year’s Eve morning, most of the Gu residence’s servants had left. Only those without families remained to celebrate.

Gu Que and Yan Luo boarded the carriage to the warm house. Granny Sun and Ting Lan took another carriage. Upon arrival, Ting Lan went to the kitchen to help.

The house was filled with warm air, instantly comforting. Granny Sun wandered around the greenhouse while Gu Que pulled Yan Luo to enjoy the heat.

Both removed their cloaks. Yan Luo explored the house and suddenly noticed a wardrobe. Curious, she opened it. Gu Que didn’t stop her.

Inside were dresses of every color and style, all in the latest fashions.

Yan Luo smiled. She’d discovered Gu Que’s secret—Gu Que liked dresses too. “Are these yours?”

Gu Que stood by the vent, her hair swaying slightly, her eyes shimmering: “Shall I wear one for you?”

Yan Luo froze.