The Prime Minister Knows How to Handle Her Wife (ABO, GL) - Chapter 23

Chapter 23

How did Your Highness Ninth take revenge on Ning Qingge?

She saw that moving out herself wouldn’t work, so she ordered someone to move Ning Qingge’s pillow elsewhere, intending to drive her to sleep in another room.

At first, she was full of momentum, lying on a bamboo rocking chair, stretching out her hand to direct people around, acting very arrogantly.

Ning Qingge didn’t stop her, going off to bathe on her own. When she returned after drying her hair, standing at the doorway, she heard uncomfortable groaning sounds.

Lying down for a long time was never comfortable, no matter how soft or thick the padding was. It wasn’t as comfortable as a cool, human cushion. If Sheng Shiyue hadn’t experienced it before, she might have endured and slept, but after last night, no matter how she tried to sleep, she felt uneasy.

Sheng Shiyue endured the pain, tossing and turning. First, she lay flat, then pressed the bedding beneath her, trying to lie diagonally, but it didn’t feel any better. Angrily, she pulled the pillow over and pressed it down too, but it was too high…

It was infuriating.

If she could roll over at that moment, Sheng Shiyue would have rolled from the head of the bed to the foot and back again.

The night drove away the summer heat, a cool breeze pushed open the lattice window, and the begonia flowers outside had begun to wither, scattering broken petals on the ground.

Ning Qingge finally pushed open the door but didn’t glance at Sheng Shiyue, walking straight to the low table across from the bed, where a book she hadn’t finished reading during the day lay.

Sheng Shiyue saw her, her eyes lighting up at first, her gaze following her. Seeing that Ning Qingge had no intention of looking at her, she called out listlessly, “Ning Qingge.”

The person opposite didn’t turn around, leaving only a refined, slender back.

She raised her voice again, calling, “Ning Qingge!”

When Sheng Shiyue spoke, she always had a natural air of command, making her seem spoiled yet not off-putting. It was like watching a lion cub pretending to be haughty. But things were different now; that person no longer indulged her.

Ning Qingge flipped through the book’s pages, head lowered, as if examining something.

Sheng Shiyue pursed her lips, knowing full well the other was deliberately ignoring her. Softening her tone, she called again, “Lord Ning.”

She felt a bit regretful. Had she known, she wouldn’t have taken revenge on Ning Qingge like this. Even if she wanted her to move out, she should have waited until later…

She called out pitifully, “Ning Wangshu.”

So she still remembered the other’s courtesy name, though she usually refused to use it.

Ning Qingge paused for a moment, finally turning to look at her, still refined and courteous but with an inexplicable sense of distance. She said, feigning confusion, “Your Highness?”

She was the one who drove her out, and now she was the one calling her back.

Sheng Shiyue squirmed awkwardly, blurting out stiffly, “This bed is a bit hard.”

The person over there pretended not to understand, saying considerately, “Then I’ll have someone add another layer of bedding for Your Highness.”

Sheng Shiyue replied, frustrated, “That would be too hot.”

She wore only loose, thin clothing, leaning diagonally on the bedding. Her untied collar gaped open, revealing half her shoulder and neck during her earlier tossing. Her collarbone protruded prominently, and a trace of red lingered at the corners of her eyes from crying while applying medicine earlier. The begonia’s spring charm outside hadn’t been driven away by the summer night; instead, it seemed to settle on her.

Ning Qingge was momentarily dazed, then quickly regained her composure, saying, “Then Your Highness should wait a bit longer.”

“Wait for what?” Sheng Shiyue asked, confused.

“I’ll find a craftsman tomorrow to carve a jade beauty for Your Highness,” Ning Qingge said, smiling with a teasing glint.

As soon as the words left her mouth, the other’s face flushed red, stammering, “Ning, Ning Qingge, what nonsense are you talking about?”

Though Sheng Shiyue was uneducated, she wasn’t completely clueless. When bored, she loved lounging on a beauty couch, flipping through miscellaneous books.

The jade figure Ning Qingge mentioned referred to a story from the Shu Kingdom. A former ruler had a consort with jade-like skin and an exquisite figure, deeply beloved by the ruler. Someone presented a jade figure modeled after her. At night, the ruler had the jade figure placed in bed alongside Consort Gan, and in a daze, he couldn’t tell which was real or fake, indulging in it and playing with it recklessly.

Ning Qingge showed a thoughtful expression, hesitating, “I just don’t know what form to carve.”

She raised her eyes to look at Sheng Shiyue, smiling, “If it’s in my likeness, would Your Highness…”

Before she could finish, she was interrupted. The other grabbed a pillow and threw it at Ning Qingge, shouting in embarrassment, “Ning Qingge, you’re shameless!”

She wouldn’t “play” with Ning Qingge!

The throw wasn’t forceful, and Ning Qingge caught it easily, walking toward her with a playful smile, saying, “What, Your Highness doesn’t like it? Then why did you fold that page, making me misunderstand Your Highness? I was already planning to have it crafted as a gift.”

She knew how Ning Qingge found out—by flipping through the idle books in her study.

As for when she read it and folded the page, this ancestor couldn’t recall at all. Unlike poor scholars who treated books as precious treasures, she grabbed them casually, folded pages halfway through, folded them if they were interesting, or even, when bored, folded them into ladders or flowers.

She quickly shook her head, firmly denying, “I’m not interested.”

Ning Qingge had already sat on the edge of the bed, saying with feigned regret, “Really? Your Highness is truly not interested? I’m not some rigid, inflexible pedant. If Your Highness really likes…”

Her teasing was genuine, but whether she truly intended to craft a jade figure was unclear.

Sheng Shiyue could only grab her sleeve, face stern, emphasizing repeatedly, “I really don’t like it. If I did, I would’ve already sought out a jade carver. Look at my bed—there’s not even a bamboo madam.”

A bamboo madam was a hollow bamboo pillow, often used by common households to cool off while sleeping.

Sheng Shiyue said firmly, “I hate sleeping with these hard things the most.”

It wasn’t that Your Highness Ninth was naive; it was that Ning’s previous image was too ingrained. Even after being teased repeatedly, Sheng Shiyue instinctively fell into her trap.

Ning Qingge nodded thoughtfully, saying, “Oh? So Your Highness likes sleeping while hugging me?”

“What?!” Sheng Shiyue looked at her in shock, not knowing how the conversation veered here.

Ning Qingge said reasonably, “Last night, Your Highness draped both arms and legs over me, hugging me tightly, even rubbing…”

Her expression was serious, her tone grave, as if discussing official business.

“Stop talking!” the other’s voice rose, wishing she could bury herself in the bedding. The flush at her eye corners spread, dyeing her earlobes a deep red, even tinting her neck.

She didn’t do it on purpose. It was just… someone was too soft. Besides, there was no ice basin in the bedchamber, and she was a bit hot, so in her sleep, she unconsciously clung to someone. She remembered waking up and carefully loosening her grip, afraid of waking Ning Qingge and letting her see, but it turned out she already knew.

The mischievous person finally couldn’t hold back her laughter. As a child, she didn’t understand why palace consorts loved keeping cats; now she finally understood the fun.

Ning Qingge asked again, “Since Your Highness doesn’t want a jade madam or a bamboo madam, do you still want me, the legitimate madam, to sleep with you?”

Before Sheng Shiyue could answer, she sighed to herself, “It seems you don’t, since Your Highness already ordered my pillow thrown elsewhere.”

Regret was practically written on Sheng Shiyue’s face. She gripped Ning Qingge’s sleeve tightly, saying hurriedly, “I do, I do! Ning… Wangshu, just stay with me.”

Teased to the point of giving up, she decided to keep Ning Qingge here first, no matter what.

“But,” Ning Qingge’s tone shifted, saying plaintively, “If I stay today, will I be driven out tomorrow? I might as well leave early, lest I have to move again in a few days.”

How did Ning Qingge become like this?

Sheng Shiyue couldn’t figure it out. Where was the aloof, refined Prime Minister? Who was this delicate Lin Daiyu in front of her? Could Ning Qingge have read those storybooks in her study and been possessed by something?

But no matter how much she grumbled internally, she didn’t dare say it aloud, only pleading, “I was wrong, Ning Qingge. I promise, I swear, I won’t make you sleep elsewhere again.”

“Oh?” The other raised an eyebrow, intent on teaching her a lesson to remember, lest she repeat it later.

She said, “I want to believe Your Highness, but this is the second time you’ve caused a fuss. What if…”

Sheng Shiyue, anxious, said immediately, “What do I have to do for you to believe me?”

Ning Qingge curved her lips, glancing at the fruit tray on a wooden stand nearby. No matter how much Qu Li scolded, she still doted on her, mentioning it in the afternoon, and by evening, a tray of peeled lychees soaked in ice water, clinking against the ice, was sent over.

Ning Qingge said with a bright smile, “Then Your Highness should eat a lychee.”

It was that simple?

Sheng Shiyue was skeptical. How could this person let her off so easily?

Ning Qingge didn’t betray her suspicions, casually picking up a lychee, biting it between her lips, then looking at Sheng Shiyue.

The intent in her dark eyes was clear, leaving no room for retreat.

Despite having seen much of the world, the inexperienced Qianyuan was stunned, stammering, “Ning, Ning Qingge.”

The other leaned forward.

The shadow on the floor fell across the bed, onto the other person. The bed curtains swayed lightly in the breeze, and her long hair brushed across Sheng Shiyue’s cheek. First came a cool soap scent, then the flavor of lychee. It was unclear whether it was the fruit’s flesh or the other’s personal fragrance, but she tasted a clear sweetness first.

Sheng Shiyue instinctively opened her mouth to receive it, but it wasn’t just the translucent fruit flesh that slipped in. The cunning one hid behind, taking advantage of the moment to touch the tip of her tongue.

Before Sheng Shiyue could react, a hand covered her cheek, leaving no escape.

The fruit flesh was bitten apart, crushed back and forth between tongues. Their teeth occasionally clashed, but it lacked the ferocity of the lotus pond, more like an elder playing a game with a child, gentle and soft, often rewarded with honey-sweet prizes.

Sheng Shiyue unconsciously hooked her arms around her neck, her raised chin forming a clear line.

The lychee, broken into small pieces, was slowly pushed in. Sheng Shiyue finally tasted the lychee she’d been told to eat that afternoon, guided to savor every kind.

A strong wind blew outside again, sweeping away the fallen begonias.

The lychee was finally finished, but the moment lingered. Only when Sheng Shiyue pushed her did Ning Qingge slowly rise.

“It’s… it’s done,” she said hoarsely, her voice tinged with avoidance.

The other naturally wouldn’t break her promise, or perhaps she needed this agreement more urgently than Sheng Shiyue, only deliberately stringing her along, like a shrewd merchant in a deal—desperately wanting something but making the other beg for it.

Ning Qingge kissed her forehead, agreeing readily, “I’ll fetch some clear water for Your Highness to rinse your mouth.”

The most helpless were the servants from before. The pillow they’d just moved away had to be brought back. They muttered to themselves that next time, they wouldn’t indulge Your Highness’s antics, since the Prime Minister always had a way to coax her.