After Marrying the Villainous Prime Minister in My Brother’s Stead - Chapter 7

7: The Little Tiger on the Prime Minister’s Nails

Nothing is more heart-fluttering than a contrast in cuteness. Gu Que enthusiastically recommended the nail stickers she had picked out, and Yan Luo obligingly went along with her suggestion, setting aside her own preferences.

The stickers were thin layers that could be adhered to the nails. Yan Luo’s hands were beautiful—slender, fair, with nails tinged a delicate pink, specially trimmed for the wedding. Gu Que stole several glances. If this were modern times, Yan Luo would surely look stunning playing the piano.

Watching Gu Que fiddle with the stickers, Yan Luo smiled softly. “How much do these cost?”

“They’re cheap, just eight kuai eighty per sheet…” Gu Que suddenly paused, raising her head instinctively to meet the Prime Minister’s radiant eyes. Her heart skipped a beat—”eight kuai” was a modern term, incomprehensible to Yan Luo. Hurriedly, she corrected herself, “I traded some embroidered handkerchiefs for them. The handkerchiefs were just something I bought on a whim, meant to reward the maids. So, um, eight handkerchiefs for all these.”

Yan Luo fell silent, for Gu Que had just placed a little tiger sticker on her index finger. It was rather adorable. She curled her fingertip to examine it closely—the tiger’s head was round, and the craftsmanship couldn’t merely be called exquisite; it was nothing short of divine.

Eight handkerchiefs were more than worth it.

Gu Que simply smiled, eyes crinkling, as she focused on her task. She was so close that when Yan Luo glanced up, she could see the fine down on Gu Que’s cheeks.

Proximity revealed things ordinarily unseen, like eyelashes. Young Master Gu’s lashes were long, thick, and curled, her eyes dark and bright, her overall demeanor soft and delicate.

In the Great Wei Dynasty, elegance was in vogue, and men with delicate features were especially favored. A young master like Gu Que, stepping outside, was bound to attract attention—even the empress had taken notice once. Though she preferred women and had no interest in men.

In the blink of an eye, Gu Que finished the second nail, lifting the Prime Minister’s middle finger to blow on it gently. Her breath was sweet. Yan Luo frowned slightly, but by the time Gu Que looked up, her expression had smoothed into a soft smile.

Seeing her smile, Gu Que relaxed and grinned as well. “Do you like it?”

Yan Luo studied the little tiger on her fingertip and nodded. “I do. Your attention to detail is as fine as a woman’s.”

At the mention of “woman,” Gu Que’s heart lurched, and she hurriedly lowered her head.

The motion exposed her ears, soft and tinged pink. Yan Luo’s lips curved as she observed them. “I heard you’re a twin?”

“Yes,” Gu Que replied, no longer flustered. She had anticipated this question. “My younger sister is frail and recuperating at the estate.”

Yan Luo nodded thoughtfully. “Since we’re married now, we’re family. Why not visit her tomorrow?”

Clatter! The box in Gu Que’s hands fell. Yan Luo dodged just in time to avoid being hit.

Gu Que’s face flushed, her lashes fluttering nervously. “The Prime Minister’s health is delicate. I fear my sister might pass her illness to you.”

“Young Master is considerate.” Yan Luo praised with a smile.

Gu Que didn’t dare let her mind wander or look up at the Prime Minister. In her nervousness, she caught a whiff of a faint, cool fragrance. She sniffed, but the scent vanished.

Suddenly, she thought of perfume and seized the topic. “Do you use perfume, Prime Minister?”

“You mean the kind from the Western Ocean?” Yan Luo finally had something to contribute. Across the seas lay nations different from the Great Wei, thriving in their own ways.

When the emperor ascended the throne, envoys from those lands had visited, taking back silks and porcelain from the Great Wei and leaving behind their own specialties, including perfume. It was similar to the Great Wei’s incense but had its own merits. Yan Luo had once received a bottle but gifted it away unused.

Still, she remembered it vaguely.

As Gu Que applied a sticker to the ring finger, she took the opportunity to ask, “What kind of scents do you prefer, Prime Minister?”

“Light and fresh will do.” Yan Luo replied offhandedly.

Gu Que made a mental note, taking a deep breath before carefully grasping Yan Luo’s ring finger. Perhaps due to her health, the Prime Minister’s hands were icy. Rumors spoke of her frailty but never specified the illness. Gu Que didn’t dare pry—she would ask later, once they were more familiar.

The right hand was done. Yan Luo lifted it to admire the vibrant red base that didn’t overshadow the little tigers, her heart melting at the sight.

She didn’t know where such exquisite creations came from but felt deep admiration for them. Lifelike and divinely crafted, they clearly involved great effort.

“Lovely.” Yan Luo murmured, her eyes brimming with satisfaction as her gaze softened toward Gu Que.

Gu Que blushed under her scrutiny and met her eyes, sweetly saying, “As long as you like them. There’s still the other hand—would you like the same design?”

“The same is fine,” Yan Luo agreed. “I dislike mismatched things. They feel… unsettling.”

“OCD?” Gu Que suddenly understood. It wasn’t an illness but could be even more troublesome. Smiling, she took Yan Luo’s left hand.

The left hand was even colder than the right, like ice. Gu Que, ignorant of medicine, guessed it was due to poor circulation. She hesitated briefly before reaching for another sticker.

That slight pause didn’t escape Yan Luo. “I have cold extremities. Conceiving will be difficult.”

“Difficult…” Gu Que was taken aback. In ancient times, such a condition would be frowned upon, but she wouldn’t tell her brother or parents. “No rush. We can take it slow. If you’re cold, wear more layers.”

Come winter, she’d buy some heating pads. Without electricity, electric blankets were out of the question, but she’d figure out another way to keep warm.

Their thoughts diverged as Gu Que quickly finished the left hand and released Yan Luo, smiling shyly.

It had taken only moments. Yan Luo stared at her hands, suddenly at a loss. “Can they get wet?”

“Yes, but they can also be removed.” Gu Que reminded her.

Yan Luo played with her newly adorned nails, lips curving upward. The warm, hazy lamplight cast a glow on her features—three parts gentleness, five parts serenity, and two parts allure. At her age, Yan Luo was no young maiden; she carried an air of mature charm.

Gu Que stared dazedly for a moment before forcing herself to turn away, reluctant yet not daring to look further. This was her sister-in-law, her brother’s wife.

Gu Que knew her boundaries and wouldn’t overstep. She packed the remaining stickers into the box and moved to sit on a stool far away. But the moment she settled, Yan Luo spoke up: “It’s late. Time to rest.”

Gu Que’s heart clenched. “S-sleep now?”

“Why not? The dragon-phoenix candles have burned halfway already.” Yan Luo chided, amused. The candlelight bathed the young master’s face in a warm glow, highlighting her fair skin and rosy lips.

Such beauty, paired with meticulous care, made for a truly remarkable person.

Yan Luo didn’t linger on the sight. Instead, she moved to the bed to arrange the blankets. Out of habit, Gu Que stepped forward to help, but Yan Luo declined: “This is my duty. No need to fret.”

Gu Que stood aside, watching helplessly as Yan Luo prepared the bed—with only one quilt. She shrank back, horrified.

“Aren’t you sleeping?” Yan Luo straightened and asked.

Gu Que hadn’t yet concocted an excuse. Her heart pounded as she stammered, “S-sleep together?”

Her voice was tiny, like a mosquito’s hum in summer, betraying her unease. Yan Luo rubbed her tingling ears and repeated patiently, “Time to sleep.”

With that, she extinguished the lamps, leaving only the dragon-phoenix candles burning—these couldn’t be put out.

Yan Luo lay down first. The bedding was chilly, sending a shiver through her, but she bore it silently.

Gu Que could delay no longer. She removed her shoes and climbed onto the bed. Yan Luo observed her and reminded, “Aren’t you taking off your outer robe?”

“Y-yes, I should.” Flustered, Gu Que stripped off her outer layers and slipped under the covers, only her head peeking out.

They lay far apart, with enough space between them for another person.

The candles crackled. After what felt like an eternity, Yan Luo suddenly spoke: “What should we do about the wedding handkerchief?”

“Wedding handkerchief?” Gu Que was baffled. What was that?

“Then get up.” Yan Luo’s voice was soft, her face flushing, even her ears turning pink. She sat up, and Gu Que scrambled to her feet, barefoot on the footstool.

Yan Luo pulled back the quilt, revealing not just peanuts, red dates, and longans but also a white square of fabric.

Tradition demanded it.

Gu Que’s face burned as she yanked the cloth free and hid it behind her back. “We don’t need to bother with that!”

“Really?” Yan Luo gave her a sidelong glance before smoothing the bedding back into place.

They stood shoulder to shoulder, nearly the same height, though Gu Que’s slight stoop made her seem shorter. Yan Luo’s gaze drifted to her snow-white neck.

She smiled. “Let’s sleep.”

Yan Luo lay back down, and Gu Que had no choice but to follow. They kept their distance, a clear boundary between them. Gradually, Gu Que’s panic subsided, and she stared at the ceiling, her tension easing.

Silence enveloped them. Though Yan Luo was quiet, she wasn’t sleepy. The bed was softer than any she’d known, like lying on cotton, and it unsettled her.

Gu Que, too, remained awake, waiting for Yan Luo to fall asleep first.

Yan Luo drifted off first, her hands and feet cold. Gu Que finally closed her eyes once she was sure the Prime Minister was asleep. Marriage was exhausting.

She didn’t dare move. Perhaps fatigue won out, for she fell asleep moments later.

The previous night’s guests had lingered late, some too drunk to leave and staying in the guest quarters. The Marquis of Yongle and his wife had already departed, taking the household’s concubine-born daughters back to the marquis’s estate.

The manor’s lanterns had burned all night, and the servants hadn’t slept a wink. By dawn, the halls and courtyards were spotless.

In the bedchamber, the dragon-phoenix candles still flickered, their wax pooling thickly at the base. A maid, Ting Lan, knocked lightly. “Young Master, Prime Minister.”

Gu Que jolted awake, as did Yan Luo, both rousing simultaneously. Gu Que, lying on the outer side, had to rise first, or Yan Luo couldn’t get up.

When Ting Lan entered, maids filed in behind her, carrying warm water, towels, and fresh clothes for the day.

The room buzzed with activity. Gu Que washed her face first, then eyed the garments. “Too red.”

Ting Lan whispered, “The Prime Minister prepared them.”

Gu Que remembered—Yan Luo had made them herself. She couldn’t complain or refuse. Red it was.

As Ting Lan moved to dress Gu Que, Yan Luo interjected, “I’ll do it.”

Ting Lan froze, and even Gu Que stared in disbelief. What was the Prime Minister up to?

Dressing one’s spouse was considered an intimate marital act…

Ting Lan retreated, shooting Gu Que a look that seemed to say, Good luck.

Yan Luo took the robes, her slender hands brushing past Ting Lan. The maid didn’t dare look up, but in that instant, she caught a glimpse of tiny yellow tigers on the Prime Minister’s fingertips…

Little tigers? Ting Lan rubbed her eyes and looked again. Those elegant, long fingers now bore ten tiny tigers on their nails.

Where had they come from? Had her young mistress painted them for the Prime Minister? Over the past year, Gu Que had taken to crafting all sorts of odd little trinkets, but this time, she’d outdone herself—adorning the Prime Minister’s nails with tigers.

Bold indeed.

As Ting Lan’s mind raced, Gu Que’s nerves frayed. The Prime Minister stood so close that she instinctively wanted to retreat but forced herself to stay still, watching as those hands settled on her shoulders.

Yan Luo was serene, her gaze softening as she murmured, “Don’t be nervous, Young Master. You must grow accustomed to your new role. Now that you’re married, it’s best to maintain distance from the maids.”

With that, she leaned in, her arms encircling Gu Que’s slender waist, hands resting against the small of her back through the thin underrobe, as if touching bare skin.

Those hands were cold as ice, jolting Gu Que to alertness. “In the future,” she said quietly, “I’ll dress myself. Alright?”