My Scumbag Husband, the Prince Consort - Chapter 4

Leaning against the lattice window, I yawned listlessly. The carved rhombus patterns on the window projected scattered light spots onto the bronze mirror before me.

I pinched my cheeks in front of the mirror. Still the same familiar face, same familiar features. The woman in the reflection was adorned in gold and jade, draped in silk and pearls, her hair pinned with step-shaking ornaments and bejeweled hairpins—graceful and resplendent. There was not a trace left of the plain, ugly duckling I used to be.

Looking around, I saw a celadon vase painted with lotus petals, a white jade butterfly-carved ornament, and countless other valuable items decorating the room in elegant, opulent fashion.

If this had been before, I would’ve fainted with joy just knowing that all these treasures and antiques belonged to me. But now? I could only feel a vague disgust in my chest.

After all, they were all just lifeless objects.

Ah, Jiang Yu, Jiang Yu…

Back then, I was dirt poor—every day I woke up racking my brain for ways to make money. And now? I’m drowning in riches and completely numb to it.

Truly, life is a mass of desires: unfulfilled, it’s suffering; fulfilled, it’s boredom.

Just as I was yawning for the twenty-third time, Shi Chun came hurrying through the corridor. “Your Highness, the Prince Consort has returned.”

“Where is he?”

“He just passed the main hall, seems to be heading toward the study.”

Strange. He just got out of prison. Shouldn’t the first thing he does be to come see his proper wife—the mistress of the Princess’s manor?

I had been counting the days—seven, eight by now—and yet the moment he’s back, he scurries off to the study?

“Tell him to come see me.”

I wanted to see what kind of trick Liu Qi had up his sleeve.

About a stick of incense later, Shi Chun came running back, her knees hitting the floor with a loud thud.

I hated this habit of hers—dropping to her knees at the slightest thing. I’d told her many times to quit it. Pressing my temples, I sighed, “What now?”

“Y-Your Highness, the Prince Consort refuses to come.”

“What? On what grounds?!”

I slammed my hand down on the table, making the golden hairpins in my hair jingle with the force.

“He says… newlyweds should not meet during daylight hours—it goes against propriety. He’ll come once night falls.”

What kind of nonsense is that? Since when can newlyweds not see each other during the day?

Where did this supposed rule come from? I’ve never heard of it!

“Is that true?”

Shi Chun hesitated behind the curtain. “According to Great Wei custom, there is such a tradition—newlyweds avoid each other during the day for the first three days. But that’s a rule brought in from the grasslands, and it’s long gone out of fashion.”

I’ve only seen Liu Qi once before, but counting the wedding day, it’s been fifteen days since. The three-day rule clearly doesn’t apply anymore.

Besides, he’s a Song native. Why is he suddenly adhering to grassland customs? Absurd!

“Ridiculous,” I snapped. “Tell him to come at once.”

Shi Chun hesitated again. “Your Highness, the Prince Consort also said…” She trailed off.

“What else did he say?”

“He said that as the Princess’s husband, it is his duty to correct your conduct. Daytime intimacy is improper and must be avoided.”

Daytime intimacy?!

What kind of filth is he imagining in that head of his?

Who does he think he is? Daytime intimacy, my foot!

Though I cursed him in my heart, my cheeks still turned red—whether from rage or shame, I couldn’t tell.

It took me a while to calm down. I waved a hand. “Fine. Let him come after dark.”

He was clearly determined not to show himself. I couldn’t possibly lower myself to go to him.

After all, I’m a Princess. I need to maintain some dignity—it wouldn’t do to look like I was forcing him.

________________________________________

Night fell. Around six o’clock.

Drowsy and barely keeping my eyes open, I lounged on the bed, yawning endlessly.

The incense in the gilded bronze burner had almost burned out. Two unfamiliar maidservants had just cleared the ashes and added fresh oil to the lanterns.

Then someone announced his arrival—not Shi Chun this time, but a young servant boy.

“Your Highness, the Prince Consort requests an audience.”

At last. He finally came.

I forced my eyes open, sat up with effort, adjusted my sleeves and skirts, and tucked the hairpins by my temples. “Let him in.”

He entered wearing a wide black robe of gauze, its long sleeves flowing past his waist, a jade-green belt fastened at the waist. As he stepped over the threshold, the night breeze lifted his sleeves and hem slightly, like ripples on water.

He wore no ceremonial crown—his hair half tied, secured at the back with a single jade hairpin. The long strands spilled down to his waist, black as ink, elegant as a painting, even more breathtaking in the soft light.

It wasn’t my first time seeing him, of course. But last time, I wasn’t quite in my right mind—my head was a mess, and I hardly remembered what he looked like. Only that he wasn’t ugly. Maybe even handsome.

Now, seeing him clearly, I felt like my soul had been half drawn out of my body.

I mentally slapped myself twice. Jiang Yu, get a grip! This weakness for pretty men must be corrected!

Especially this one. Liu Qi—the man who, if things go as expected, will one day take my life. I absolutely cannot be swayed by a beauty I can’t even touch.

I cleared my throat and assumed a serious expression. “Prince Consort, you returned today. Why didn’t you come see me?”

Liu Qi bowed with impeccable posture. “According to the customs of Great Wei, a consort may not meet the Princess without summons.”

“Didn’t I send Shi Chun to summon you?”

I raised my brow, arms crossed, face full of displeasure.

“A daytime summons… would not be proper.”

Liu Qi looked me square in the eyes, completely unbothered.

“You’re awfully young to be such a stickler for outdated rules,” I sneered. “Even the old nannies in the palace aren’t this rigid.”

He remained unfazed. “Your Highness summoned me. May I ask what for?”

“Can’t I see you for no reason?”

I sat at the round table, picked up a jade teapot, and poured out a cup of tea. “Sit and drink.”

Liu Qi didn’t hesitate. He pulled out a stool and sat, but made no move toward the cup I offered.

The candlelight inside was bright, casting shifting shadows through the carved sandalwood screens, falling across the bed’s gauze curtains and flickering in the wind. The light danced over Liu Qi’s profile, accentuating his flawless features—divinely handsome.

“We’re husband and wife, after all,” he said. “If you have something to say, speak plainly.”

Seeing him ignore my tea, I snatched the cup back and downed it myself, clearing my throat. “That day, I slapped you. I was in the wrong. But you also threw me once. Let’s call it even.”

“We may not have shared a bed yet, but we’ve bowed to Heaven and Earth, offered sacrifices to our ancestors—by all rites, we are husband and wife. Why, then, did you push me into the water?”

Liu Qi’s brow barely twitched. “You truly believe I pushed you?”

“Who else could it be? We were alone by the pond. Unless it was a ghost?”

“You really remember nothing?”

He stared at me, beautiful eyes narrowing in suspicion, as though gauging the truth in my words.

“Whether I do or not is none of your concern. Just tell me—why push me?”

Instead of answering, Liu Qi calmly refilled my cup. “What needed to be said, I said in prison. If you want to know, summon the warden. No need to ask me again and humiliate me further.”

Humiliate him?

I was the one who got hurt, pushed into the water, thrown to the ground—and he feels wronged?

He looked healthy and well-fed, his fine robe unable to hide his lean, sturdy figure. Clearly, he hadn’t suffered at all in prison. And now he dares challenge me like this? My imperial brother is clearly too soft on him.

Having crossed verbal swords with him a few times now, I was starting to get a read on him—he doesn’t respond well to pressure. Time to try another tactic.

I summoned all my dramatic skill, resting my hand on my forehead like a delicate damsel, propping my elbow on the table. With the other hand on my chest, I coughed weakly.

“You don’t know, husband… After falling in the water, I was badly shaken. Imperial Physician Zhang says I now suffer from bl00d deficiency—my mind’s foggy, my memory confused. I fear… I fear I’ll never remember what truly happened…”

For good measure, I even let out two faint sobs.

“Then forget it,” Liu Qi said gently, placing the cup before me. “It’s not a memory worth keeping.”

“But everyone says it was you who pushed me. If I don’t remember, your name will be tarnished unjustly.” I peeked at him from my sleeve.

Liu Qi’s expression remained calm, as though this slander had nothing to do with him.

“Then let them say it was me.”

That confirmed it. He hadn’t done it—but he was willing to carry the blame.

Somehow, that made me even angrier.

“Aren’t you afraid I’ll go beg His Majesty to have you executed?”

“If Your Highness truly intended to have me executed, I would never have left prison. I wouldn’t be here, sitting across from you, drinking tea.”

His voice was firm, his dark eyes like stars. I felt my cheeks flush, my mind going hazy, as if I’d been drinking.

Fine. Fine. Beauty, it seems, is the most dangerous poison of all.

I raised the tea and drank it in one gulp, then slammed the cup down with a loud clang.

“Liu Qi, for someone your age, you’re surprisingly—”

Before I could finish the word “bold”, I was struck speechless.

He had taken off his jade pendant and placed it on the table.

Jade—the most cherished of stones. People wear it at the waist as a reminder of virtue, aspiring to its purity. North or south, this principle held true.

As the Book of Rites says: “A gentleman does not part from jade unless for grave reason…”

While I was still trying to process why he’d removed his jade, he peeled off his black robe, revealing his plain inner garments.

“W-What are you doing?”

I recoiled in shock, one of my golden hairpins dropping to the floor with a crisp ding, like a flower falling into the spring mud.

“You summoned me urgently, didn’t you… for this?”

“For what?!”

I began to stammer, clutching my chest as I rose to flee. But my long skirts tangled beneath me—I slipped, falling right into his arms.

His sleeve was embroidered with flowing cloud patterns, one merging into the next, more exquisite than real clouds.

His calloused fingers brushed against my earlobe, carrying a subtle fragrance of magnolia.

In his embrace, I felt as if I were standing beneath a magnolia tree in full bloom.

Then, leaning close, he whispered softly in my ear:

“To serve you in bed, of course.”