My Scumbag Husband, the Prince Consort - Chapter 10

“The Prince Consort may not approach without an imperial summons…”

Now that I’d figured all this out, there was no point in arguing any further.

The Emperor wasn’t blind to my grievance or humiliation—he simply couldn’t afford to offend the powerful Prince of Danyang. Whether he was advising me or warning me, it was all to give the Liu family a gesture of respect, to preserve Liu Qi’s dignity.

The dragon incense in the hall was nearly spent, and the tea stain on my skirt had mostly dried.

I gathered up the hem of my dress and knelt.

“Your sister knows her mistake. I’ll return to the princess’s manor at once, dismiss those companions, and quietly reflect.”

The Emperor waved his hand wearily.

“Forget it.”

His face was tired.

“If they please you, then let them stay for now.”

“Blame it on my failure as your elder brother, for not having the time to guide you properly.”

He walked over and rubbed my forehead, chuckling softly.

“Do you remember? When our mother passed, you hid behind a chair and cried. I comforted you just like this.”

“You were still little then, ignorant of the world. After crying yourself to sleep, you’d wake up bouncing around like nothing had happened.”

I shook my head. There was a mistiness in his eyes, but I remained calm.

“It’s been so long—I barely remember any of it.”

“Then that’s good,” he murmured, nodding to himself. “If you don’t remember, you won’t be trapped in the past, or weighed down by sorrow.”

The Emperor looked at me intently, the gold on his imperial crown shimmering.

“Yuling, you are the last bloodline our mother left behind. You’re also the only family I have left with no barriers between us. In the past, I shielded you so you could do as you pleased.”

“But I fear the day will come when I can no longer protect you. If that day truly arrives… what then?”

So that’s what this sentimental brother of mine was worried about. Honestly, he was too melancholic. If a few autumn winds blew too hard, I bet he’d be inspired to write two new poems on the spot.

I grinned, tugging his arm playfully.

“Nonsense, Your Majesty. You’re the ruler of this land, the very sky over Great Wei. How could you not protect little old me?”

He smiled, patting my hand.

“If that nephew of yours is still young and naive, I trust his dear aunt will look after him. And in return, I’ll look after you.”

“Easy,” I laughed. “Tomorrow I’ll send for him to visit the princess’s manor.”

After bidding my brother farewell, I didn’t take the main road back. Instead, I wandered through the side courtyard of the Shi Qian Hall, curious to explore the palace’s lesser-known beauty.

The corridors curved like flowing silk, petals drifting like liquid.

I noticed a man standing under the sparse shadow of a tree—poised, refined, and stately.

He wore a scholar’s headpiece—the jinxian crown—fastened with a black headscarf and a simple ebony hairpin.

Unlike Liu Qi’s sharp, angular features, this man’s face was gentle and delicate, his complexion fair and smooth.

Before I could react, he strode toward me.

“Hu Qian greets Her Highness, the Princess,” he said, bowing with a courteous smile.

Hu Qian?

I frantically searched my memory for the name. After mentally rummaging through everything I knew, I was sure this was a name completely off my radar.

I’d never seen him before. I didn’t know him. So, to play it safe, I feigned ignorance.

“Greetings, Lord Hu. What a coincidence—are you here to admire the flowers too?”

Hu Qian smiled, plucking a fallen blossom from beside my temple.

“Shuang’er, why so distant with me?”

“I… I…” I stared at him, tongue-tied, completely stunned.

Since arriving in this world, everyone had addressed me as Princess. Only the Empress herself had ever called me by my given name. Even my imperial brother called me Yuling.

Yet here this man was, calling me “Shuang’er” with such familiarity, even brushing petals from my hair. Clearly, he had a close relationship with the original Yuan Shuang.

“Shuang’er, since your wedding, I haven’t seen you once. When I heard you’d be at Shi Qian Hall today, I came specially to wait. Didn’t expect to actually find you.”

Who was this guy? Since when could someone casually waltz into the Emperor’s private hall?

“You, you…”

I was just about to ask who he really was when a familiar voice called out behind me.

“Your Highness—”

I turned to see Shi Chun hurrying from the corridor.

She didn’t even catch her breath before dropping to her knees—not in front of me this time, but before Hu Qian.

“Maidservant greets Grand Preceptor Hu.”

Grand Preceptor?

I looked back at the man before me, now seeing him more clearly—lead-white outer robe, silver-gray undergarments, and a jade sash exclusive to high-ranking officials.

He appeared just a few years older than me, but he already held one of the highest offices in the realm—one of the Three Excellencies.

With Shi Chun present, Hu Qian didn’t come any closer. He simply gazed at me, as if waiting for my reaction.

But to me, he was no more than a stranger. Whatever he and the original Yuan Shuang had shared was irrelevant now. I was never good at small talk, especially not with unfamiliar faces.

Shi Chun’s timing was perfect. I pulled her up.

“Enough kneeling. Come—we’re going home to eat.”

She stumbled as I dragged her along but still managed to bow politely to Hu Qian before following behind me.

“But Your Highness, didn’t you just eat breakfast before entering the palace? How are you hungry again?”

“You talk too much.”

Annoyed at being exposed, I snapped, “No dinner for you tonight.”

She lowered her head in silence. Always afraid of me, she dared not argue now.

A spring breeze swept by. I turned my head slightly.

That tall, graceful figure still stood beneath the shadows, surrounded by drifting petals. His pale robe looked even more faded now, as if lost in time.

In the carriage back, I asked about Hu Qian’s background.

Chun, Xia, and Qiu all rushed to answer me—clearly in a competition to say the most. Only Dong sat quietly, smiling.

Shi Chun said, “Grand Preceptor Hu is the Empress’s elder brother, son of Duke Hu Guanzhi of Anhuai.”

Zhi Xia added, “When His Majesty was six, he was made Crown Prince. At fifteen, he married the Empress. A year later, Hu Qian entered court.”

Mu Qiu chimed in, “He started as a Cavalier Attendant at the Secretariat, and was later promoted to Grand Preceptor after His Majesty’s coronation.”

I twirled my handkerchief and nodded. This empress’s family was no joke.

To begin as a junior official in the central government, and in just a few years rise to the top rank—Hu Qian’s career path was something most could only dream of.

Zhi Xia whispered near my ear, “Word is, the Empress’s influence helped him a great deal.”

Mu Qiu added, “But connections alone aren’t enough. If he had no real talent, jealous rivals would’ve already impeached him.”

Shi Chun nodded. “They say Grand Preceptor Hu governs with both compassion and competence—he’s deeply trusted by the Emperor.”

I agreed, “One’s wife, the other a brother-in-law. At the end of the day, it’s all family. Who else would the Emperor trust?”

As we spoke, the carriage slowed. The driver stopped at the gate.

Mu Qiu lifted the curtain, revealing my four guards standing like wooden posts out front.

They weren’t especially attractive, but each was highly skilled—and more importantly, absolutely loyal to me.

When I said go east, they didn’t dare veer west. Unlike Liu Qi, who vanished for days and argued with me when he returned. Who had the time to put up with that?

Just thinking that my brother had allowed these four to stay with me made me genuinely happy.

I hopped down from the carriage, waving and grinning.

“Chi Mei! Bai Lan! Mo Zhu! Jin Ju! I’m home!”

The moment I called out, a figure darted out from inside the gate and wedged himself between my four guards.

He took two long strides, now standing before them, staring at me with unmistakable irritation.

As soon as I saw who it was, my smile dropped.

I exhaled, frowning.

“Liu Qi. You again?”

The southern breeze lifted his white robe. The jade on his belt shimmered red, like evening light.

Standing tall, he smiled, then walked straight toward me.

Before I could react, Liu Qi scooped me up and carried me bridal-style through the gate—right in front of everyone.

As the guards stared, stunned, he stepped over the threshold and into the manor.

My face nestled against his chest, I smelled the faint sweetness of magnolia.

I couldn’t help recalling the last time he’d held me like this—that night when we first met, soaked and shivering, yet still unwilling to let me go.

We were like two pitiful souls, abandoned on a cold spring night, clinging only to each other.

Unknowingly, the only parts of Liu Qi I seemed to remember were the good ones—however fleeting they might’ve been.

He kicked open the bedroom door, strode past the white-bead curtain, and tossed me onto the couch facing the low window.

I curled my legs and retorted,

“The prince consort must not appear without an imperial summons. That’s the rule.” I tilted my chin toward the door. “Aren’t you leaving?”

Liu Qi didn’t answer. Instead, he sat on the edge of the couch, hand slipping silently to my ankle.

“I heard His Majesty gave permission for those little birds outside to stay?” he said coolly.

I scowled.

“Your sources are fast.”

“I always act one step ahead,” he said.

I smirked. “Are you jealous?”

He removed my embroidered shoes and began rubbing my calf under the hem of my skirt, whispering,

“How dare I be? I am, after all, your man now. Whatever you say, I do.”

His words sent a chill down my spine, my heart thudding wildly. I forced my face to stay composed.

“Liu Qi, did you take the wrong medicine today?”

“Weren’t you the one who said the consort mustn’t defy his wife, let alone act indecently by day?”

“There are always exceptions,” he replied.

His fingers plucked at the delicate silk at my waist. With a single tug, the gossamer threads danced in the breeze like falling petals.

He leaned in close, voice low against my ear.

“If I don’t do something soon, I fear the next one thrown out of this manor will be me.”