The Crown Princess Is Jealous Again - Chapter 70

By the morning of the third day, Xiao Beitang’s heat had finally passed. That night, Song Qingqian slept soundly.

When she awoke at dawn, Xiao Beitang was no longer beside her. She rose, draped a robe over her shoulders, and walked to the window, opening it.

Snow had blanketed the world in white. Flakes still drifted slowly, leisurely from the sky.

In the courtyard, two snowmen stood — slightly shorter than a person.

Just then, Xiao Beitang pushed the door open, brushing snow from her shoulders. Spotting her standing by the window, she smiled and asked, “Awake? Are you hungry? Shall I have breakfast brought in?”

Song Qingqian shook her head, her gaze falling on Xiao Beitang’s hands, tucked into her wide sleeves. A faint redness bled through the fabric.

Xiao Beitang walked over and looked out at the snowmen. “I made them. Do you like them?”

Song Qingqian glanced at her hands, then at her face again.

Xiao Beitang extended her hands — indeed, they were red from the cold, like little pork knuckles.

She paused, then smiled awkwardly. “They’re warm. Really — touch them and see.”

Song Qingqian didn’t move, just stared at her, her gaze full of silent reprimand.

“They really are warm.” Xiao Beitang reached out and grabbed her hand, holding it tightly.

Her smile was still as warm as ever. But for some reason, Song Qingqian felt a little angry. A frustration simmered in her chest.

The memories of the past few days made her uneasy. She had always known Xiao Beitang had been with many women, and she hadn’t cared before — but now, she did.

When Xiao Beitang had whispered those wild, intoxicating words in her ear…

Hot.

Tender.

Sometimes urgent, sometimes gentle.

Sometimes deep, sometimes shallow.

She knew every spot that made her tremble. She was far too experienced. Had she done the same with Linglong? The thought haunted Song Qingqian the moment her mind cleared.

And then there were the marks Xiao Beitang left. Emperor Jing and the Empress were returning today. She would need to put on extra powder to hide them.

That girl — really…

And it wasn’t just her neck and shoulders. There were marks all over her. Combined with her growing jealousy, it was no wonder Song Qingqian’s expression turned cold — suddenly and without warning.

Xiao Beitang wasn’t dense. She could feel the storm brewing between Song Qingqian’s brows. She assumed it was because she’d gone too far. Song Qingqian had asked her to stop multiple times, but she hadn’t.

And she’d left visible marks.

Song Qingqian had forbidden her to mark her. So, she’d found another way — subtle, coin-sized bruises in visible places. Now she felt guilty, avoiding Song Qingqian’s eyes entirely.

Too reckless, she scolded herself. But truthfully — she wanted to do it all again.

There was no helping it. Just having Song Qingqian standing there made her heart pound. She liked her so much.

Song Qingqian was indeed just standing there, expressionless, staring at her.

Xiao Beitang cleared her throat and changed tactics, feigning a playful pout. “Let’s eat, shall we? You must be hungry, right?”

Seeing her act spoiled, Song Qingqian’s gaze finally softened. She slowly pulled her hand away and walked toward the door. She needed a proper bath — after days of exertion and sweat, she felt sticky and uncomfortable. Besides, she had to greet the Emperor and Empress in the afternoon.

Xiao Beitang, thinking she was still angry, asked timidly, “Where are you going?”

“The west wing.”

Xiao Beitang paused, then quickly followed. But Song Qingqian didn’t stop walking, so Xiao Beitang had to walk backward while facing her.

“We’ve already consummated the marriage… and you’re still going back to the west wing?”

“Yes,” Song Qingqian replied firmly.

As they reached the threshold, Xiao Beitang stumbled, unable to see behind her. With a startled yelp, she nearly fell backward — only for Song Qingqian to catch her.

Xiao Beitang gave a dry laugh. “Why don’t you move in with me? Your hands are always cold. I could warm the bed for you.”

Just the bed? Song Qingqian shot her a look. Xiao Beitang averted her eyes, guilty.

“No need,” Song Qingqian replied coolly.

“What’s wrong?” Xiao Beitang asked softly, crestfallen.

“Nothing!” Song Qingqian wanted to ask — but didn’t dare. She feared the answer would confirm her suspicions. And if it did… she didn’t know how to be angry. It was all in the past, wasn’t it? But to be petty now made her feel childish. For the first time, she felt truly conflicted.

“I’ll wait for you to eat,” Xiao Beitang said, cautiously.

Song Qingqian didn’t object.

That was good enough. At least Xiao Beitang thought so.

But when Song Qingqian returned after bathing, Xiao Beitang suddenly felt… maybe her heat wasn’t over after all.

Her hair was still damp, her face bare of makeup. The luxurious palace robes on her looked graceful and elegant. Unlike the powdered ladies of the court, she needed no adornment.

Xiao Beitang couldn’t take her eyes off her. Especially after having held her so intimately not long ago. She thought — maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have heat cycles more often.

“How’s the investigation into the Hehuan incense going?” Song Qingqian asked lightly, noticing her dumbstruck expression and unabashed gaze.

Snapping out of her daze, Xiao Beitang replied with some guilt, “It was Linglong. She did it to get to me… but it ended up hurting you.”

“How do you plan to deal with her?” Song Qingqian asked, not out of concern, but to see if Xiao Beitang would defend her.

“I haven’t done anything to her,” Xiao Beitang said.

A faint twitch of Song Qingqian’s brow.

“She may have been used by someone else.”

Another twitch.

“I’ve sent people to investigate. Soon—”

“I’m done eating.” Song Qingqian cut her off, rising to leave.

What now? Xiao Beitang hurried after her, grabbing her hand. “Qingqian, what’s wrong?”

Song Qingqian looked down at her hand, displeased. Xiao Beitang quickly let go.

With a flick of her sleeve, Song Qingqian returned to the west wing.

Xiao Beitang stood there, confused and a little heartbroken. Just days ago, they had shared tender confessions…

Frustrated, she left the palace.

…

She summoned her sisters but said nothing. Xiao Wanqi looked at her and asked calmly, “Well? Speak.”

“I…” Xiao Beitang hesitated, unsure where to start.

Finally, she sighed and asked awkwardly, “Ah Qi, after your first night with your wife… how did she treat you afterward?”

Without thinking, Xiao Wanqi replied, “Gentle, affectionate, shy, clingy. She’s still like that now.”

Her robes carried a mix of orchid and oolong fragrance. No need to ask — they’d clearly been intimate again.

“And yours wasn’t?” Xiao Wanqi asked.

“She seems… cold. Distant,” Xiao Beitang replied, troubled.

“Cold?” Xiao Lin stood up abruptly, eyes darting downward. “Do you have… a condition?”

“Can you be serious?” Xiao Beitang glared at her.

“Oh.” Xiao Lin sat down sheepishly. Then whispered, “Maybe… you didn’t satisfy her?”

“Ah Lin.” Xiao Beitang’s voice cooled.

Just saying her name was enough to silence Xiao Lin.

“Were you the one who initiated it?” asked Xiao Wanqi.

“Yes… and no.”

“But it was consensual?”

“Yes.”

“Then perhaps…” Xiao Lin muttered, “you should just ask her directly.”

Xiao Beitang stared out the window, sighing. “Forget it. I just needed some air.”

Ask? She wouldn’t even answer!

Back in the west wing, Song Qingqian sat reading in the courtyard, wrapped in a white fox fur cloak. Xiaotao urged her to come inside — the melting snow made it especially cold.

She refused, saying the room felt stifling. She didn’t even know what was bothering her — just that she couldn’t calm down.

Xiaotao suggested cracking a window instead — better than sitting out in the freezing snow.

But she didn’t listen, staying in the courtyard until nearly midday before finally returning indoors.

Xiao Beitang came back around noon, carrying skewers of candied hawthorn and a bag of roasted chestnuts. She handed one to Song Qingqian.

Then she took the rest, sticking them into the snowmen’s sides to make arms. She swapped their clay noses for chestnuts.

Song Qingqian stood by the west wing window, watching her with a helpless smile, the candied hawthorn still in hand.

“Qingqian, look! That’s you and me,” Xiao Beitang said cheerfully.

Song Qingqian couldn’t stay angry. She looked at her and smiled faintly.

By evening, Emperor Jing and the Empress finally returned after a week of seclusion at Mirror Lake.

At the palace gates, the Empress immediately noticed the faint mark on Song Qingqian’s neck — mostly concealed, but not completely. The Emperor had often left such marks on her in the past. She recognized it instantly.

Grabbing Xiao Beitang’s hand, she smiled, “Beitang, did you miss your mother these past few days?”

As she leaned in, she discreetly sniffed her — yes, she smelled of Song Qingqian.

“I’m not a child,” Xiao Beitang replied playfully.

“You’ll always be my child,” the Empress said, smiling dotingly.

Back in Kunning Palace, the Empress instructed Lüwu to send pregnancy-stabilizing medicine to Zichen Palace. She figured Xiao Beitang must have forgotten such things — mothers always had to worry.

When Lüwu returned, she looked embarrassed. After questioning her, the Empress learned what Xiao Beitang had done — and fainted from rage on the spot.