After Marrying the Villainous Prime Minister in My Brother’s Stead - Chapter 70

70: Argument—What Other Virtues Do You Have Besides This Pretty Face?

Gu Que was startled by that eerie gaze, her heart skipping a beat. “It’s different. That size was for you. If you like it, I’ll buy another one.”

“I don’t believe you. I can wear your clothes, so why can’t you wear mine?” Yan Luo didn’t buy her excuse.

“You’re so slim, your clothes are the smallest size. They won’t fit me.” Gu Que pinched her own waist, then glanced at Yan Luo’s slender figure, muttering, “I think I’ve gained weight recently. I should lose some.”

Yan Luo ignored her, suppressing her restless mood. “If you won’t wear it, then just wear my clothes. Let’s go buy farmland to grow rice.”

“You probably can’t buy that much at once.” Gu Que wasn’t naive. Good farmland was hard to come by, and the 200 acres of paddy fields Yan Luo had as dowry were top-grade.

During her time at the estate, she’d learned from the stewards that the land Yan’s family had given was the best—premium fields in the capital. Finding better would be impossible.

That was the first issue. The second was that most paddy fields were held by wealthy families. Smallholders might own a few acres here and there, but even if bought, they’d be scattered and inconvenient to manage. Besides, smallholders relied on these fields for their livelihood and wouldn’t sell easily.

These realities crushed Gu Que’s dream of buying land.

Yan Luo teased her: “That’s because you’re dumb. I’ve bought thousands of acres, though not in the capital—elsewhere. My people have inspected them. They’re not bad.”

“If they’ve already been inspected, why are we going?” Gu Que was puzzled.

Yan Luo said, “I’m going to inspect them personally and take a look at the fields. Aren’t you coming?”

“You mean we’re leaving the city to have fun?” Gu Que’s eyes lit up. Since arriving in this world, she’d never had the chance to travel. How exciting!

Yan Luo’s gaze softened with Gu Que’s excitement. She poked Gu Que’s forehead. “You’ve probably never left the capital for fun in your life.”

Gu Que was surprised. “You’re right! I’ve never been out to play. I want to experience the beauty of nature—and I also want to go to the seaside! The vast expanse of sea and sky, especially at sunrise… that kind of beauty is a gift from nature, magnificent and grand.”

She was thrilled, even exhilarated.

Yan Luo didn’t understand why someone living in luxury would yearn for such scenery.

She thought of her mother, who in her final days had said she wanted to leave the palace and see the outside world. But she’d been confined, unable to even step beyond the palace gates.

Gu Que was the same—restricted by her identity, unable to leave.

Yan Luo looked at her. “In the future, when we have time, we’ll go to Dengzhou to play.”

Gu Que knew Dengzhou was by the coast. Suddenly, she saw an escape. “After you’ve settled all your affairs, let’s go to Dengzhou. You won’t be Prime Minister anymore, and we’ll travel there. I’ll tell you—I have so many treasures. I’ve heard Dengzhou has many foreign merchants. I can support you. Even if you’re extravagant, I can still take care of you.”

The last line made Yan Luo laugh. Gu Que was tolerating her flaws.

The night before their day off, Chun Lu and Ting Lan packed their bags. Normally, Ting Lan would accompany them.

Gu Que had instructed Ting Lan to bring a few dresses. Ting Lan didn’t think much of it—after all, they’d been guarding against Prime Minister Yan. Now, there was no need.

Ting Lan happily packed several dresses tucked at the bottom of the chest, hidden under robes. No one else would notice.

Granny Sun didn’t forget to give Gu Que two bottles of medicine, explaining when to take them and emphasizing they must never leave her person. On New Year’s Eve, Yan Luo had had an episode.

Gu Que didn’t dare forget. She stored the pills in a modern pillbox and kept it in a sachet, carrying it everywhere.

Once everything was ready, the two set off in a carriage.

Granny Sun sighed at the gate. Chun Lu helped her back inside. “Auntie, you could have gone with them.”

“Why would I intrude on their happy time as a couple? One must know their place.” Granny Sun sighed again. Tomorrow, she’d visit the warm house for a couple of days. Eating strawberries would be her little outing.

Chun Lu didn’t understand her thoughts and tried to comfort her.

Granny Sun leisurely returned to her courtyard. Thinking Qiong Ju pitiful, she took her to her medicinal shed to play.

Qiong Ju could walk with support. Inside the shed, she tugged and pulled at everything until Granny Sun chased her out, scolding, “Just like your mother—born trouble.”

Qiong Ju’s mother was currently comfortably reclining against Gu Que’s legs while Gu Que studied a map. “The Emperor ordered you to inspect the north. Why are we heading south?”

“The Emperor wants me to check the reserve forces.” Yan Luo yawned. “He’s mobilized 100,000 troops from various regions. On paper, it’s impressive, but assembling them has many minor issues. If these 100,000 troops are defeated, how quickly can we regroup for another reserve force?”

Gu Que had a headache just listening. She put the map away and lifted the carriage curtain. Yan Luo said, “You can go see the paddy fields, observe their crops.”

Yan Luo would be busy and didn’t want Gu Que bored, so she encouraged her to do what she wanted.

At the posthouse, Yan Luo left with Zhi Zhi while Gu Que and Ting Lan went to inspect the fields.

Rice thrives in heat. Gu Que considered single-crop rotation, but in tropical regions, two or even three crops a year were possible.

Gu Que walked around the fields for a while, gathering information. Practices varied by region, and rice yields differed slightly—though compared to hybrid rice, it was still pitiful.

Back at the posthouse, Yan Luo had returned. They’d stay another day before continuing. Gu Que didn’t ask what she’d been doing.

After a month of stops and starts, Yan Luo finally took a break and dragged Gu Que out to explore the streets.

Gu Que wanted to see more fields, but Yan Luo said, “All the fields you’ve seen these past few days are now under my name. Plant this season’s rice however you think best. Now, let’s go have fun.”

“All those… are yours?” Gu Que was stunned. “How did you suddenly buy so much?”

“I have my ways. Now, I’ll take you to see a play.” Yan Luo urged her to change, instructing Ting Lan to help her mistress into a dress.

Gu Que froze. Ting Lan laughed and pushed her into the room.

Yan Luo waited outside while Zhi Zhi kicked a ball in the courtyard. Gu Que had given her a football, calling it a “leather ball,” claiming it was made from dyed cowhide. Zhi Zhi, easily fooled, didn’t care what it was made of and played happily.

Yan Luo watched Zhi Zhi’s lively figure, her lips curving. So full of vitality.

Zhi Zhi hugged the ball and ran over. “Prime Minister, do you want to play?”

“No, you go ahead.” Yan Luo felt exhausted just watching.

A while later, Gu Que emerged. Pausing at the threshold, she asked, “Left foot or right foot first?”

“Men left, women right. Which do you think?” Yan Luo’s gaze lingered on Gu Que’s rosy cheeks, her slender waist, and the hairpin swaying gently in the breeze—graceful and delicate.

Gu Que took a deep breath and stepped out with her right foot, as if relieved.

Zhi Zhi stared, dumbfounded. Yan Luo glared. “Eyes to yourself.”

“Prime Minister, the Young Master is so pretty.” Zhi Zhi darted to Gu Que’s side, gazing at her. “You’re even prettier than the Prime Minister.”

Yan Luo: “…”

Ting Lan placed a veil hat on Gu Que. It was best to be discreet outside.

The group left the posthouse.

After a month away, everyone was restless, even Gu Que couldn’t contain her excitement. Yan Luo explained, “This is Xuzhou. In about seven or eight days, we’ll reach the Huai River.”

The Huai River had been blocked a month ago—no crossing.

The city was vast but somewhat desolate compared to the capital, its buildings less grand yet steeped in ancient charm.

Yan Luo took Gu Que to a tavern first.

Over a month since leaving the capital, the court and Prince Liang had clashed several times, with the court slightly ahead.

Yan Luo explained, “The late Emperor loved war and had many fierce generals under him, scattered across the land. He left many for the current Emperor, which is why she’s so confident.”

Gu Que nodded. Yan Luo continued, “Here, taverns are hubs for information. Many influential families send people to gather news. Right now, the Empress Dowager has the Nanping Army guarding checkpoints in the capital, stabilizing it. But with north and south cut off, many things are inconvenient—like grain.”

The tavern was crowded, even more so than the streets. Nearly every table was full, with groups huddled together talking.

Gu Que and Yan Luo exchanged a glance and moved closer to listen.

A burly man stood at the center of a crowd. “Seven days ago, General Ji Da took the field, engaging the rebels. Within a hundred moves, he slew three of their commanders. Prince Liang shouted, ‘Whoever takes his head gets 10,000 taels of silver!’”

Yan Luo said, “Ji Da is forty this year, a vanguard skilled in cavalry battles. Prince Liang shouldn’t have faced him head-on.”

Gu Que asked, “What about his equipment?”

Yan Luo was puzzled. “Equipment?”

“His weapons—cannons, firearms, things like that.”

Yan Luo smiled faintly. “Keep listening.”

The man grew animated, gesturing wildly. “General Ji Da was so formidable, but then Prince Liang deployed cannons. The armies faced off hundreds of meters apart—one blast, and General Ji Da was blown to bits.”

Reduced to ashes.

The crowd gasped. Someone asked, “Didn’t General Ji have cannons?”

“Of course, but theirs were no match! Imagine—from that distance, there’s no escape. And their aim was deadly accurate, every shot a hit!” The man’s eyes gleamed with excitement.

Gu Que turned to Yan Luo. “You gave them to him?”

“He worked fast, producing them in a month—remarkable speed.” Yan Luo smiled coldly. “If only the late Emperor were here.”

Gu Que fell silent.

The crowd buzzed with opinions, speculating whether Prince Liang would advance.

Once past the Huai River, the court would be in danger.

Yan Luo said, “He won’t cross for now. The court has ample troops to hold the line—at least for a year or so.”

The excitement dried throats, and the tavern sold plenty of tea. The crowd grew noisier, theories flying.

Gu Que listened intently, with Yan Luo occasionally explaining.

They stayed until noon, ate, and were about to leave when someone burst in, shouting, “Prince Liang has been defeated!”

Gu Que was shocked. Yan Luo, unsurprised, smirked and wrapped an arm around Gu Que’s waist. “Impatient for success, that’s all.”

Prince Liang, relying on cannon superiority, neglected close combat. Without cannons, he was no match for the court. And in just over a month, how many cannons could he have produced? Defeat was inevitable.

It was a stalemate.

Gu Que asked Yan Luo’s plans. Yan Luo didn’t hide it: “The longer this drags on, the greater the casualties. Let them wear each other down.”

Leaving the tavern at dusk, Gu Que touched her chest, feeling a surge of pride, and told Yan Luo.

Yan Luo didn’t laugh. “Keep good company, and you’ll become like them.”

Gu Que supposed that made sense and pulled Yan Luo back to the posthouse. After sitting all day, they collapsed onto the narrow bed, both in dresses, lying side by side in their clothes. Yan Luo loved looking at Gu Que, calling her beautiful.

Gu Que’s mind wandered, and she blurted, “I’ll wear it for you again tomorrow.”

Exactly what Yan Luo wanted.

They’d stay a few more days—this was a good place for news, which took eight or nine days to reach the capital.

Yan Luo planned to monitor the situation, balancing both sides. The war couldn’t favor one faction—it had to be a slow, even grind.

That was to her advantage.

Fortunately, the Great Wei had many fierce generals. If Ji Da fell, there’d be Zhang Da or Li Da—no shortage of commanders. Prince Liang, by contrast, was shorthanded.

After several clashes, neither side gained ground—a stalemate.

Gu Que wore dresses for two days. Yan Luo praised her beauty and took every chance to tease her.

But in bed, Gu Que always got her revenge.

On Dragon Boat Festival, news came: three more veteran generals of the Great Wei had fallen, all once under the late Emperor’s command.

When Zhi Zhi reported it, the two were wrapping zongzi in the courtyard. Gu Que couldn’t do it, but Yan Luo could—holding the leaves in pale hands, her slender fingers deftly shaping the dumplings.

Gu Que watched, smiling. It looked easy, but she was hopeless.

Yan Luo liked plain zongzi—just glutinous rice, nothing else. When Gu Que pressed, she said her mother had only made plain ones.

Gu Que didn’t ask further. They ate zongzi for lunch. Zhi Zhi devoured four or five, boasting she wanted to see the battlefield, claiming her skills were on par with the old generals.

Gu Que mocked, “Those old generals are all dead.”

Zhi Zhi deflated, grumbling as she bit into another zongzi.

That night, the two slept in each other’s arms. The next morning, Zhi Zhi shouted outside, wanting to go out.

Yan Luo didn’t respond, and Zhi Zhi stomped off.

The two lazed in bed, gazing at each other.

Sweet as honey.

They rose at noon. Yan Luo sat at the table, drank milk, and wrote a dozen names, crossing out four in red.

Eight or nine remained.

Yan Luo mused they couldn’t die too quickly—that’d spoil the fun.

One wrote, the other watched, neither speaking.

In the afternoon, they left the posthouse to explore, returning after dinner.

That night, Gu Que yawned, but Yan Luo was wide awake, holding her close. “Why no dress today?”

“Not wearing it.” Gu Que dozed off, exhausted.

Yan Luo was baffled. How could she be so tired?

The next few days were quiet—Grandmother’s medicine had run out.

No more nighttime activities.

On the eighth day of the fifth month, they returned to the capital.

By month’s end, they were back. Yan Luo went to the palace to report.

Hearing of the war and the loss of four veteran generals, the Empress was furious, cursing her granduncle. Learning of his cannons, she concluded he was behind the capital’s troubles.

If it was him, there was no need for checkpoints—the Nanping Army should return south.

The southern defenses were empty, just a hollow camp. The Empress Dowager insisted they stay, form a new army, and guard the capital.

But since the dynasty’s founding, the Nanping and Tongzhou armies had stayed out of the capital unless necessary. Merging Nanping into the capital violated tradition.

This time, the Empress refused. The Empress Dowager already had the Imperial Guard and other troops. Adding another would render the Emperor a figurehead.

Mother and daughter deadlocked. Yan Luo ignored them and went home.

The day after their return, the couple visited Third Madam Yan. The Yan family hosted a feast.

While Gu Que was away, the matriarch asked about heirs. Yan Luo said there were none. The old lady sighed and dropped it, asking instead about the children’s first birthdays.

The couple had been away, so the celebrations were at the Marquis’s estate. The Yan family sent gifts according to custom. The eldest madam attended, but Third Madam Yan, as maternal grandmother, did not.

To outsiders, the Yan family seemed impolite, but given Third Madam’s condition, Gu Que didn’t blame them.

The matriarch urged Yan Luo to apologize at the Marquis’s estate.

Yan Luo agreed. Then, the talk turned to the war.

Yan Luo said, “It’s evenly matched.”

The matriarch exclaimed, “Is he truly that formidable?”

“His cannons give him an edge.”

The matriarch sighed. Yan Luo remained composed, easing her worries. She didn’t press further, only asking a few questions about domestic matters.

Yan Luo was busy, and she worried the Young Master might resent it. After a pause, Yan Luo smiled. “She’s busy too—no time for resentment. Don’t worry, she’s fine.”

The matriarch said, “I see he’s kind-hearted, perhaps too soft.”

Gentleness had its downsides—lack of spine. As a man, he ought to be firmer.

Yan Luo didn’t respond, sipping tea in silence.

The matriarch took the hint and changed the subject.

That afternoon, the couple bid farewell to the matriarch and Third Madam Yan. The latter was reluctant to part. Gu Que’s heart ached—she almost offered to take her back but stopped herself. Third Madam had lost her daughter and husband. Insanity spared her the pain—perhaps it was kinder.

They returned home. Gu Que went to inspect the crops at the estate; Yan Luo attended to her duties.

That evening, they reunited at the warm house. Gu Que wrote down methods for soaking rice seeds, planning to buy medicinal solutions, seal them in jars, and send them to various regions.

By midnight, both were exhausted and went straight to bed.

Gu Que worked tirelessly until late June, when watermelons hit the market. The yellow-hearted ones sold well. After the melon season, the paddy fields would be ready for rice.

Gu Que made a small profit—nothing compared to Yan Luo’s earnings.

The war remained deadlocked, neither side gaining an advantage. With the front lines holding, the capital stayed prosperous and decadent.

Qiong Ju could walk, albeit unsteadily. Gu Que brought Qing Zhi over for a few days. The two children weren’t close—each played alone.

Gu Que sighed, trying to bring them together, but they refused.

After a day, she realized: Qiong Ju was just like Yan Luo—domineering. Her toys were hers alone; her brother couldn’t touch them. But his toys? She snatched them without hesitation. Even a sibling would resent such behavior.

Reasoning was futile. When Gu Que tried to intervene, Qiong Ju threw a tantrum.

Just like Yan Luo—unreasonable.

Gu Que was so upset she skipped dinner. Yan Luo, however, was delighted and praised Qiong Ju. Gu Que, unusually, disagreed. “Don’t you think that’s excessive?”

“Excessive? Should she be a pushover like you? Never fighting back?” Yan Luo’s expression darkened. “Some things are negotiable, but not this. As her mother, how I raise her is my business. Teaching her to be selfish—is that so wrong?”

They argued at the dinner table, startling the maids into silence.

Even Gu Que was taken aback by her fury. She hadn’t even said much—why the outburst?

She froze. Yan Luo pressed on: “I don’t know how your parents raised you, but I dislike your temperament. Why should we yield? Give in to candy as a child, and you’ll yield rooms and wives as an adult.”

Gu Que: “…” Oh dear, Pandora’s box was open.

Gu Que didn’t dare retort. Her valid points had been twisted, but she didn’t back down. “I can yield to you. But who’ll yield to her in the future?”

Yan Luo sneered. “If a marriage is unbearable, divorce. No need to suffer. My daughter will have my backing.”

Gu Que asked, “What if you’re gone?”

“I—” Yan Luo’s gaze turned icy, her aura shifting—no longer gentle but laced with menace.

This was the infamous Prime Minister Yan, the “King of Hell.”

Gu Que softened her tone. “You understand reason. But what if she doesn’t? If she’s as useless as me or as unreasonable as you, she’ll suffer.”

“Are you trying to anger me?” Yan Luo didn’t get it. “Like you? That’d be tragic. Aside from your pretty face, what virtues do you have?”

“Was that a compliment or an insult?” Gu Que’s head spun from the argument. If an insult, it was cruel—was she truly so worthless?

If a compliment, it was different. Yan Luo always praised her beauty.

Gu Que didn’t take offense. But she met Yan Luo’s eyes firmly. “When she’s older, we’ll teach her reason.”

Yan Luo realized her words had hurt and fell silent, picking up her chopsticks to eat.

The tension eased, and the maids exhaled in relief. So did Gu Que.

After dinner, Yan Luo went to the study, not planning to return. Gu Que sensed her anger but decided to wait until tomorrow to placate her.

But that evening, the Marquis arrived.

Gu Que welcomed him at the gate, and they adjourned to the study.

Her study was unusual—no scholarly elegance or ink-scented refinement, just clean and tidy, radiating an inexplicable cheer.

The Marquis smiled. “This study lifts the spirits.”

“Yes. Father, why have you come?” Gu Que was uneasy.

The Marquis looked around, noting the desk—unlike typical rosewood, smooth with many drawers.

“Fine desk.” He nodded approvingly. Then he spotted books on the shelves—all unfamiliar. He pointed to one: The Poetry of Li Qingzhao.

Gu Que handed it to him, pressing, “Is there something urgent?”

The Marquis didn’t recognize Li Qingzhao. Closing the book, he said, “Your brother returned yesterday.”

Yesterday?

Gu Que was stunned. Was Yan Luo upset because Gu Yan was back?