The Prime Minister Knows How to Handle Her Wife (ABO, GL) - Chapter 45

Chapter 45

The copper ball taken from the ice water was not large, only the size of a longan, with intricate lotus patterns carved on its surface. It was elegant, but the surface became uneven because of the patterns. The strangest thing was a thin chain attached to the copper ball, which could wrap around Sheng Shiyue’s palm once, with a little left over.

At first, Sheng Shiyue held it with her fingertips, but then found it too cold and cupped it in her palm. Perhaps because the chill gradually faded, the mercury inside the copper ball warmed up, causing the ball to suddenly shake.

Sheng Shiyue froze. She had been too busy feeling shy and avoiding attention to listen carefully during the lesson, so nothing had sunk into her mind.

So, while searching, Sheng Shiyue could only choose from strange objects like a clip with a copper bell, a thin cloth with an indescribable medicinal smell, or a jade piece shaped like a bamboo shoot. She picked one that seemed relatively plain and not too excessive.

But now, holding it in her palm, she vaguely sensed something was off.

This thing didn’t seem so simple.

Seeing Ning Qingge’s hesitant expression, her doubts grew stronger.

What exactly was this thing?

Soon, someone would tell her. A slender, fair fingertip pinched the small ball, pulling the hand bound by the chain forward.

The copper ball, not fully wiped dry, was still dripping water, soaking the soft cushion.

As time passed, the night outside grew darker. The bustling Bianjing finally quieted down. Soldiers in armor marched into the crowd, street vendors packed up their pots and pans, and one or two lingering customers sat at temporary tables and chairs.

Shops on both sides of the road began extinguishing their lanterns. Servants hugged wooden panels to fit into the gaps.

In a narrow alley, the night watchman struck a bamboo clapper, loudly announcing the hour.

But these sounds were blocked by white walls and didn’t reach the room.

Her legs, kneeling on the soft cushion, were bent. After staying in that position for a long time, they trembled slightly. The usually smooth fabric now felt rough, rubbing her delicate skin red, looking quite pitiful.

But at this moment, she couldn’t care less. Sheng Shiyue’s attention was drawn elsewhere. The benefit of knowing nothing was that she didn’t need to worry too much, fully guided by another person.

The hand bound by the chain was pulled upward, almost touching but still separated by a distance, unable to make contact. She wasn’t sure if it was an illusion, but she faintly felt some dampness.

“Fool,” Ning Qingge suddenly scolded, her tone finally showing a hint of dissatisfaction.

Sheng Shiyue looked up blankly, her misty eyes inexplicably pitiful, like a kitten just opening its eyes. She was clearly trying to observe and learn, but suddenly bitten by the mother cat, confused and at a loss, not even letting out a meow of protest.

Ning Qingge didn’t explain and scolded again, “Stupid blockhead, can’t you move?”

Sheng Shiyue finally reacted, propping herself up with one hand and leaning closer to the other.

Ning Qingge let out a low hum. Her fair fingertips slid into the hair, pressing the silky black strands into a mess. With a slight tug, she pulled the person toward herself.

Because of their positions, Sheng Shiyue was half a head shorter. Even tilting her head up, she could only reach the other’s collarbone. But that was enough. Without lowering her head, she bit down on the plump softness.

Her tongue brushed against a slightly rough spot, lightly teasing, like the tip of a ripe peach. A little more force might break the thin skin, so she was gentle, but her sharp teeth unintentionally caused a slight pain.

The hand bound by the chain was suddenly pulled upward, and the copper ball vanished.

Ning Qingge let out a muffled hum, her legs weakening as she leaned against Sheng Shiyue. They were already close, so the last bit of space between them disappeared. Before Sheng Shiyue could react, she was buried deeper in softness.

Their shadows on the floor merged into one, the faint gray outlines blurred, making it hard to tell who was who.

Farther away, the ice container in the corner was nearly empty, with only a palm-sized piece of ice left floating on the water, occasionally bumping against the copper walls.

The night breeze blew toward the gardenia by the window, its heavy leaves rustling, and petals scattered on the ground. It was beautiful, but the fallen petals mixed with dirt would rot into a mess if not regularly cleaned by the servants.

Perhaps because Bianjing had quieted down, the waning moon finally dared to peek out, its bright light falling like silver gauze over Ning Qingge.

Her breath trembled, her smooth hair scattering again. A flush spread around her eyes, and misty tears gathered at the corners. Her exquisite figure was fully exposed to the other, with delicate shoulders and graceful curves. Even in such an unrestrained situation, she maintained an air of refined elegance.

She called out hoarsely, “Cold.”

There was some resentment, some reproach, as if blaming Sheng Shiyue for putting the thing in ice. She didn’t know if it was intentional mischief or genuine ignorance, but it tormented Ning Qingge.

“A bit cold…” She furrowed her brows, her misty eyes like snow-laden branches, deeply pitiable.

It had been soaked in ice water for so long, the chill hard to dispel, and the uneven lotus patterns on the surface amplified the effect, making even the usually composed person lose her calm.

“Your Highness, warm it up for me,” Ning Qingge’s voice softened, her strained breaths blending into her clear tone, more captivating than deliberate teasing.

Sheng Shiyue naturally obeyed but didn’t know how to proceed, looking at the other helplessly.

So, the older, patient guide tugged her hand along the trembling chain upward, then deeper.

The soft waist trembled, and the legs, which had held on for so long, gave way uncontrollably.

Her fingertips touched the copper ball, accidentally pushing it deeper, causing Ning Qingge’s breathing to falter.

The ice container in the corner had completely melted, leaving only a basin of useless water. The damp floor tiles, soaked for days, sprouted green moss, struggling to grow in the cracks and spreading its territory.

In Bianjing, only a few scattered candles remained lit. Some people, reluctant to waste candle oil, chatted in the dark. Others had long gone to bed, some already snoring.

The Sheng Mansion was the same. Most people had turned off their lights and gone to sleep, with only a few lamps still burning, as if they would stay lit all night.

Ye Liuyun sat alone on a chair, like a soulless wooden statue, her unfocused eyes staring at the floor, searching for an answer that didn’t exist.

Since sending off Madam Jin and returning alone to the small courtyard in the mansion, she had been like this, unmoving for a long time.

Sheng Shiyue and Ye Chili had come to check on her, but she sent them away, saying she wanted to be alone. Knowing her heart was troubled, they didn’t say much, offered a few words of comfort, and left.

The food on the table had gone completely cold, untouched.

It wasn’t clear who she was upset with. The other person had already left in a carriage, perhaps even reaching another city, sleeping soundly in a temporary residence.

Ye Liuyun tugged at her stiff lips, but the smile fell before it formed. Her gaze landed on an envelope tossed aside. After a long silence, she pressed it under her pillow without opening it.

Meanwhile, the heartless one was drowning in a sea of tangled desire.

The cold copper ball pressed against her fingertips, the intricate patterns leaving faint marks.

Sheng Shiyue mischievously nudged it, and the copper ball rolled with the motion.

Ning Qingge shuddered, sinking lower, her arms wrapping around the other’s neck, like a drowning person clinging to driftwood.

“Little Nine…” Her voice carried a trace of a sob. The cold sensation was hard to bear, not to mention other indescribable feelings. The clueless Sheng Shiyue acted without method, recklessly rolling the copper ball, letting it glide over every spot.

Water slid down the chain, pooling in Sheng Shiyue’s palm, splashing with her movements and soaking most of her forearm.

Ning Qingge clung tightly to her head, as if trying to meld her into her very being.

The copper ball gradually warmed, and the mercury inside began to shift. Without Sheng Shiyue’s urging, it moved on its own. She didn’t know how it worked, but it was fascinating.

Ning Qingge’s pupils dilated for a moment, unable to hold herself up any longer. She collapsed onto the soft cushion.

The roles reversed, and the usually composed Prime Minister became the one dominated.

Tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, sliding down her cheeks into her hair.

The overwhelming sensation left her mind blank. Instinct drove her to pull away, but the other was domineering, gripping her waist to prevent her from curling up or escaping.

“Don’t, Little Nine…”

The soft cushion beneath was soaked, marked with dark stains.

The red candle nearby had burned halfway, filling the room with the sweet scent of lychee. Even the cold chill was driven out, and the temperature rose, making them sweat.

In the end, Sheng Shiyue finally understood what the mysterious chain was for. But she no longer needed to pull it—the copper ball was pushed out, falling onto the ruined cushion.

It was midnight, and the crescent moon grew brighter, casting silver light over the distant mountains.

Bianjing fell completely silent. Soldiers on the city walls yawned, muttering about when dawn would come.

An occasional dog bark rang out, quickly silenced by an annoyed, sleepy voice.

A drunken Xu Sanchi stumbled along, taking forever to navigate a short path, weaving and bumping into things. Finally, a servant at the back gate heard the noise, opened the door, and helped her inside.

She didn’t care who it was, grabbing the servant’s wrist and rambling, “I almost won, just a little short, just a few coins short. I had a feeling the next round would’ve turned it around.”

Following Sheng Shiyue’s orders, the servant didn’t dare treat her carelessly and could only smile wryly, saying, “Yes, yes, Doctor Xu is impressive.”

The drunk Xu Sanchi didn’t care about the response, rambling on for a while.

When she was finally helped into her courtyard, she slapped her thigh and said, “I’m back!”

“Yes, Doctor Xu, you…”

Before the servant could finish, she interrupted, shouting, “Where’s the medicine I brewed? Did she drink it?”

Seeing her mention something serious, the servant perked up and said, “Your Highness…”

“As long as she drank it, she’s so weak she needs proper nourishment,” Xu Sanchi cut in again, then tilted her head and fell asleep against the servant.

The servant blinked, feeling like they had heard something significant.

Your Highness? Weak?

No wonder they suddenly brought a doctor to the mansion. It must be because her health was frail, needing a physician to treat her.

The candle in the room, neglected for too long without trimming, was submerged in wax. With a faint “pop,” the flame went out, and darkness swept in.

Only faint moonlight allowed a glimpse inside.

The two lay entwined on the wooden couch, their hair tangled together. They were silent for a while, their breathing still uneven, or one might think they had fallen asleep from exhaustion.

Sweat formed where they touched, turning sticky in the breeze, but neither moved to pull away.

As Sheng Shiyue was about to drift off, her eyelids heavy, the other spoke, “Are you appeased, Your Highness?”

Her voice was hoarse, as if she had cried for hours or talked all night, ruining her throat.

The other barely opened her eyes, taking a moment to register the question before muttering, “More or less…”

This stubborn one was too proud. Even if fully satisfied, she’d only admit to half, always so contrary.

Ning Qingge chuckled softly, her fingertip brushing Sheng Shiyue’s cheek, and said, “Since you’re appeased, will Your Highness tell me what happened back then?”

She was still thinking about that.

Sheng Shiyue glanced up. Having gotten her way, she couldn’t refuse. Fighting sleepiness, she said, “It wasn’t much.”

“Hmm?”

Sheng Shiyue dug up a long-buried memory, keeping it brief. “That day, the Emperor suddenly wanted to test the heirs’ martial skills. She called me, Sixth Princess, and Eighth Princess to spar together. I planned to stay out of it, waiting for them to decide the winner before stepping down.”

Though Sheng Shiyue didn’t say much, Ning Qingge, sharp as she was, already had guesses.

“Sixth Princess was refined and not skilled in martial arts,” Sheng Shiyue said, pausing as she recalled that day in the underground chamber. “She was overwhelmed by Eighth Princess, retreating and bumping into me…”

“Eighth Princess, eager to win, didn’t notice me and swung her blade at Sixth Princess. Sixth Princess tried to block, but exhausted, her blade was knocked away, hitting my neck and cutting my gland.”

What a coincidence.

Ning Qingge’s eyes narrowed, a cold glint flashing in them.

Sheng Shiyue pursed her lips, unable to fully recount the event, and only said, “Though it was an accident, it was caused by Mother Emperor’s whim. To avoid rumors, it was covered up.”

Her words were full of holes, obvious even to someone unfamiliar with court politics. But Ning Qingge, seeing she didn’t want to elaborate, didn’t press. Knowing the rough outline, digging into details would be easy.

The other, pulled into sleep by exhaustion, breathed slowly and steadily.

Ning Qingge gazed at the person in her arms, her expression softening, her eyes gentle.

She sighed softly, “Your Highness…”

She didn’t know what she meant, or what she was thinking, just wanting to call out to her.

The sleeping figure made a vague sound, as if responding.

Ning Qingge smiled and called again, “Little Nine.”

“Little Nine.”

The night deepened, gray mist drifting in to obscure the moon, darkening the world below. The lychee scent in the room faded, leaving only their intertwined breaths, one after the other.

The copper ball, carelessly kicked aside, rolled off the couch and hit the floor with a sharp clink, but no one paid it any mind.