The Prime Minister Knows How to Handle His Wife (ABO, GL) - Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Old wounds had not yet healed, and new ones appeared.

The doctor, summoned urgently, watched with twitching eyelids, her gaze shifting between Ning Qingge and Sheng Shiyue. She hesitated to speak but ultimately swallowed her words, prescribing a pain-relieving and swelling-reducing ointment.

As for what she would say outside after leaving or what new rumors would spread, no one could predict.

Qu Li, angered by Sheng Shiyue earlier that day, stood silently by after arriving. She then led the doctor out, leaving only Sheng Shiyue and Ning Qingge in the room.

The candlelight on the stand flickered, and a cool breeze surged in from the window, bringing a wave of freshness.

Sheng Shiyue, with her forehead bandage removed, reclined halfway on the bed. Her pants were pulled up, revealing a swollen, purplish knee, still marked with indentations from beads. Compared to the smooth, fair skin beside it, the injury looked even more pitiful.

Ning Qingge sat beside her, her brows tightly furrowed. She knew this person was delicate but hadn’t expected it to be this severe—kneeling for just a short while caused such a state.

She pursed her lips into a thin line, faintly revealing a trace of gloom. Moments later, she suppressed it and said, “I will apply medicine for Your Highness.”

Sheng Shiyue didn’t notice her change in expression. She hummed in agreement, then lowered her voice weakly, saying, “Be gentle, I’m afraid of pain.”

As a Qianyuan, saying such words was truly embarrassing, but as a pampered, spoiled noble, she couldn’t bear the slightest pain.

She timidly raised her eyes to look at the other, hissing even before the medicine was applied.

Even a lion cub raised on the knees of palace consorts wouldn’t be this delicate, meowing before even being touched, as if afraid others wouldn’t know how much pain she felt.

The last time they changed the bandage on her forehead was similar. Back then, she stood outside the crowd, watching Sheng Shiyue surrounded by servants, her arms wrapped around Qu Li, making it impossible for the doctor to change the dressing. She repeatedly assured it wouldn’t hurt too much.

Ning Qingge’s fingers curled. The usually decisive woman hesitated here, saying, “But the doctor said it’s best to rub harder to disperse the bruise.”

Hearing the word “harder,” Sheng Shiyue raised her eyebrows, glaring at Ning Qingge with a hint of displeasure. “If I wanted to listen to the doctor, why didn’t I keep her here to finish applying the medicine before leaving?”

Ning Qingge naturally understood. Earlier, when Sheng Shiyue heard about dispersing the bruise, she urged Qu Li to take the doctor away quickly. It was obvious what she was scheming.

But…

Ning Qingge pursed her lips and finally said, “Then I’ll be gentle.”

At worst, she would apply the medicine a few more times or wait until tomorrow when it was better to rub it out. It wouldn’t delay anything.

Sheng Shiyue, satisfied at last, smoothed down her ruffled feathers and leaned back into the thick bedding.

Ning Qingge glanced at her, her expression finally softening. She spread the ointment on her fingertips and carefully applied it to the swollen area.

“Hiss…”

As the cool fingertips with the ointment touched her, Sheng Shiyue instinctively shrank her leg, letting out a cry of pain.

Sheng Shiyue’s hand clutched the bedding beside her, crumpling the fabric into a mess. The next second, she cried out again, “It hurts.”

Sheng Shiyue looked up at Ning Qingge, the redness at the corners of her eyes spreading, her entire eye area tinged with a pitiful pink. As if that wasn’t enough, she abandoned the bedding and tugged at Ning Qingge’s sleeve, afraid the other wouldn’t know her pain.

Ning Qingge lightened her touch even more, to the point where she barely pressed the ointment before lifting her hand. Helplessly, she said, “Your Highness, bear with it a little. It’ll be fine once the medicine is applied.”

Still wearing her purple official robe, she frowned, not at court affairs, but at her newlywed wife’s slender, fair calf. Though a Qianyuan, she was far more delicate than an ordinary Kunze. Ning Qingge wondered how Qu Li and the others usually cared for her to keep her without a single scar.

A night breeze rose, rustling the fallen leaves outside.

The swollen leg curled again, but this time it wasn’t because of the ointment. It was the strands of hair that unintentionally fell, brushing downward, causing a shiver-like itch.

Sheng Shiyue tugged at her sleeve and said instinctively, “Ning Qingge, your hair is messy.”

She spoke without thinking, but when the words faded, both fell into the same silence.

Memories flooded back. That day, with warm red candles and soft curtains, she had hooked her lips into a smile, teasing while lifting the hair by the other’s ear.

A tender atmosphere quietly spread, the temperature seemingly rising, inexplicably stifling, as if rain was about to fall again.

Sheng Shiyue withdrew her hand, unintentionally tugging at her collar, but the next second, she pulled back as if shocked.

Ning Qingge didn’t speak, only tucked her hair behind her ear and continued applying the medicine.

This time, Sheng Shiyue didn’t cry out in pain, only occasionally hissing, slightly curling her leg before straightening it again.

After a while, a servant brought in food. The room filled with the sound of clinking dishes. Ning Qingge, with official duties to attend to, returned briefly to the study. By the time Sheng Shiyue finished washing and lay in bed for a long while, Ning Qingge returned after bathing.

It was now deep into the night. Most of Bianjing’s lights had dimmed, and the vast city, eroded by darkness, sank into silent tranquility.

In the room, only two candles burned at the head and foot of the bed. White mist rose from the ice container in the corner, and the half-lowered bed curtains spread a touch of warmth.

“I saw Your Highness’s study is mostly filled with travelogues and novels, so I picked a book by Master Zuo to read for now,” Ning Qingge said, her voice softened, perhaps influenced by the setting.

Since she had already agreed, Sheng Shiyue wouldn’t throw a tantrum or go back on her word. She tossed aside the nine-linked ring she was fiddling with, lay down, pulled the bedding up to her collarbone, and turned her head to the side.

Her usual arrogance faded, leaving only a cat-like docility. Her slightly curled eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings.

She didn’t seem like someone studying, but rather a child waiting for her mother to read a bedtime story.

Ning Qingge seemed to smile, sitting sideways on the bed, leaning against the headboard as she opened the book.

“Your Highness, I’m starting.”

Sheng Shiyue responded with a sound, and the next moment, the sound of reading began.

Ning Qingge’s voice was clear as a spring, her enunciation precise yet unhurried. It was naturally more pleasant than the old scholars in the study hall. Instead of monotonous recitation that lulled one to sleep, she wove in insights, breaking it down for Sheng Shiyue.

Sheng Shiyue, who had planned to endure it, relaxed a bit, but her gaze fell where it shouldn’t.

The person beside her wore only a loose inner robe, its slightly open collar revealing a straight collarbone and the faint curve beneath it, rising and falling with her speech.

Sheng Shiyue’s breath hitched, and she quickly turned her head away. The earlier memories hadn’t faded, and now new waves threatened to surge. She could hardly tell who the Qianyuan was. How could Ning Qingge remain so calm?

Noticing the movement, Ning

System: Qingge paused and asked softly, “What’s wrong, Your Highness?”

“I—” Sheng Shiyue faltered, her eyes darting before steadying. She hastily made an excuse, “My head hurts.”

The bandage still wrapped around her head lent her unconvincing excuse a bit more credibility.

Ning Qingge seemed to consider this, her slender fingers holding the book’s page. She then said slowly, “Then, Your Highness, lie on my lap? It might feel better.”

Sheng Shiyue even wondered if Ning Qingge saw her as a child, so unguarded. Did the inability to mark mean she could disregard everything?

Perhaps because she waited too long, Ning Qingge looked at her with slight confusion, saying, “Hmm?”

Before Sheng Shiyue could respond, Ning Qingge reached out, gently lifting Sheng Shiyue’s head.

Was it a misunderstanding, thinking she was too lazy to move, so she helped?

Sheng Shiyue couldn’t tell. All she knew was that the other’s cool fingertips brushed her earlobe, which burned startlingly.

Yet the other remained composed, as if she had done something utterly ordinary, resuming her reading in an instant.

Only Sheng Shiyue was left, her face flushed red.

A faint soap scent filled her nose. The thin fabric offered no barrier. Sheng Shiyue glanced up, catching the curve she had glimpsed earlier, now even closer and clearer…

This reading was more unsettling than any study before. It made her wish to stare at an hourglass. The words became incomprehensible symbols. She had no mind to grasp their meaning, even forgetting the pain in her knee, left only with her pounding heartbeat.

She was used to being pampered, and last time Ning Qingge offered to rub her head, she accepted it calmly. But now, why did it feel so hard to adjust?

Was it because of the words mentioned tonight, or earlier, the sudden thought that Ning Qingge liked her? Or perhaps both? Whatever the reason, Sheng Shiyue felt utterly uneasy.

“Your Highness?” Ning Qingge’s slightly puzzled voice sounded again.

“Huh?” Sheng Shiyue snapped back, looking at her helplessly.

Ning Qingge seemed oblivious, frowning slightly. She reached to touch Sheng Shiyue’s forehead, asking, “Is Your Highness unwell? Why so warm?”

The touched skin itched, from her forehead to the spot on her leg brushed by hair earlier.

“No, I’m fine,” Sheng Shiyue said, her eyes wavering. She didn’t dare make another excuse, fearing Ning Qingge might do something else too considerate for her to handle.

Ning Qingge didn’t call her out, saying only, “Since Your Highness is unwell, we’ll stop here for today.”

It sounded considerate, but she was the culprit behind it all.

Yet Sheng Shiyue couldn’t protest. Her first reaction was to quickly agree, then swiftly scoot to the far side of the bed, facing away from Ning Qingge, her back rigid as if facing a wall.

The other watched her back, her gaze sliding over her spine, then silently smiled, setting the book aside.

The candlelight went out, the bed curtains fully dropped, and another night passed.