The Prime Minister Knows How to Handle Her Wife (ABO, GL) - Chapter 46

Chapter 46

Liang Kingdom Border,

Kun City.

Unlike the stifling heat of the border, Kun City’s summer belonged to the damp rainy season. The eaves, soaked by a downpour a few days ago, still hadn’t dried, and the air was thick with moisture, making one wonder if staying too long would cause moss to grow on their body.

The once-broken city walls had been repaired, old bricks and new stones piled together, looking oddly comical, like two different walls forcibly stitched into one.

Soldiers stood atop the walls, warily eyeing the endless jungle in the distance. Even the rustle of branches from a bird taking flight would draw their gaze for half a day.

Yet, in this tense atmosphere, a woman leaned casually against a stone battlement, holding a letter in one hand, chuckling aloud.

She wore a phoenix-winged helmet and vermilion-lacquered mountain-patterned armor, with a Tang-style broadsword tied at her waist. Her movements were sharp and decisive, without a hint of sluggishness. Even standing there casually, she exuded an intense sense of oppression.

Her face, partially resembling Sheng Shiyue’s, was sharper and more striking, like an unsheathed blade. A gruesome scar ran from her brow to her left cheek, yet it didn’t diminish her beauty, instead adding a touch of fierce wildness.

When soldiers’ gazes occasionally drifted her way, they quickly looked away with expressions of awe.

Clearly, this was the woman hailed as a war god by the people of Liang Kingdom, elevated by the Emperor to the highest military rank for her illustrious achievements, symbolizing martial rule and national stability—Lord Wu’an, Ye Weizhi.

A young girl, bound by ropes nearby, couldn’t help but crane her neck, curious to see what kind of letter could make such a ruthless figure show such a gentle expression.

Ye Weizhi was in a good mood and didn’t mind the girl’s overstep. She even smiled and explained, “This is a letter from my little niece.”

Her smile was subtle, just a slight curve of her eyes, with faint lines forming at their corners. She added, “Everyone around her spoils her. She’s twenty but still acts like a child, terribly spoiled.”

The two letters, sent one after another, lay before her. One was mostly complaints about Ye Weizhi’s vague speech and unfinished stories, while the other half was whining about headaches and bitter medicine.

The girl, hearing this, couldn’t help but purse her lips.

Who didn’t know about the notorious reputation of Liang Kingdom’s top wastrel? Her outrageous deeds had even spread beyond the border, outshining the rumored elegance of the Fuguang Crown Princess.

Besides, if not for her aunt’s deliberate protection, how could those around Sheng Shiyue pamper her so? The real culprit had no right to complain about others.

Ye Weizhi said no more, her gaze dropping back to the letter. When she saw Sheng Shiyue ask if she could give her mother’s bracelet to Ning Qingge, her expression grew complex, a mix of emotions she couldn’t name. She muttered inexplicably, “After all that circling, it still ends up like this.”

The girl, confused, asked instinctively, “What are you talking about?”

Ye Weizhi’s smile faded, the coldness returning to her eyes as she reverted to her usual demeanor. She said coldly, “Why don’t we talk about why the Kunze Princess of Nanzhao suddenly led troops to attack Kun City?”

The girl beside her had features distinct from those of the Central Plains, with an almost enchanting allure. Her eyes, like glass beads, sparkled vividly, and silver bells adorned her wrists and ankles, jingling with her movements.

Hearing Ye Weizhi’s words, she showed no panic, instead sidling closer, saying slyly, “Untie me first, and I’ll tell you everything in detail.”

Her lips brushed past Ye Weizhi’s neck, deliberately blowing air against her throat.

Ye Weizhi didn’t get angry but laughed, though the smile didn’t reach her eyes. She said, “Untie you? So you can get a chance to cast your蛊?”

She continued, “My spies in Nanzhao have already returned.”

At those words, the girl finally showed a trace of panic. Before she could speak, a clear metallic scrape rang out. Ye Weizhi’s wrist flicked, her unsheathed long sword slicing through the air, swinging toward the girl with terrifying speed.

The girl’s pupils shrank; she had no time to react, only watching as the silver blade drew closer.

Her loose hair was sliced off, and sweat poured down her face. The blade stopped a mere hair’s breadth from her neck—any closer, and it could have easily cut her veins.

Madwoman!

Those two words flashed through her mind. She didn’t care if she was in Ye Weizhi’s grasp; to act so recklessly, if the blade had slipped, another scar would’ve marred her face.

While her right hand wielded the threatening sword, Ye Weizhi’s left hand was inexplicably gentle, wrapping around the girl’s waist, holding the now-weak-kneed princess firmly. Her lowered voice was like a lover’s whisper: “The Nanzhao Emperor is gravely poisoned, with little time left. On his sickbed, he declared that whoever achieves great merit and gains the people’s support can inherit the throne.”

She gave a low laugh and added, “Is the princess planning to take my head to trade for the throne?”

“You’re bold indeed. Your older siblings don’t even dare raise their voices around me, trembling like cotton being fluffed.”

Her intentions exposed, a flicker of despair crossed the girl’s eyes. Just as she prepared to bite her tongue, the cold blade pressed against her neck.

Ye Weizhi leaned down, her lips brushing the girl’s hair, murmuring tenderly, “Don’t get any dangerous ideas. Don’t forget your loyal attendants and what might happen to them…”

She suddenly smiled.

A chill ran down the girl’s spine, uncontrollable fear surging within her. Just as she opened her mouth to curse, Ye Weizhi said, “Prepare yourself. We set out for Nanzhao tomorrow.”

The girl froze, then realized what Ye Weizhi intended, cold sweat breaking out instantly.

Ye Weizhi, lost in her thoughts, murmured, “It should’ve ended long ago. Dragging it out this long made me miss even Little Jiu’s wedding banquet.”

A sudden gust of wind scattered the thin clouds, breaking them into white petals that drifted toward distant Bianjing.

The long-prepared martial examination had concluded a few days ago, with a surprising upset. The martial champion wasn’t the highly anticipated Qu Yu, who missed the competition due to a fall from a horse and a broken hand, nor was it someone from the Qu family, raised from childhood for the martial exams. Instead, it was a female Qianyuan from a humble background.

It was said that when the imperial decree was delivered, the martial champion was still in her room mending shoes, wondering where her next meal would come from.

The news spread through Bianjing in a single day. Even the Emperor’s attempt to appease court officials by naming a Qu family member as the third-place martial scholar went ignored. Everyone flocked to the new martial champion. Even trivial details, like her taking a few steps outside, were recounted and imitated, with people hoping their own families could produce such a champion from humble roots.

The Qu family, though furious, could do nothing.

After all, the Liang Kingdom’s martial examination had three stages. First was the test of archery and horsemanship, both mounted and on foot. Those who passed both proceeded to the test of strength, pulling a hard bow and lifting a large stone—the greater the strength, the higher the score. Only then came the literary exam before the Emperor, with the combined martial and literary scores determining the ranking.

If a commoner won due to raw strength, outdoing pampered noble children, that was understandable. But to lose even in the literary exam was laughable.

Regardless of others’ opinions, when Sheng Shiyue heard the news, she laughed so hard she rolled from the head of her bed to its foot, tears streaming from her eyes.

She didn’t know what those people, waking before dawn and sleeping after dark, were working so hard for—it was all just a performance!

A few days later, the summer seedling ceremony began.

As the city gates opened, a dragon chariot pulled by six horses led the way, followed by the imperial heirs, the Three Excellencies, and the key figure of this summer seedling ceremony—the humble-born martial champion. Behind them were various officials and their children, the grand procession moving out in splendor, drawing crowds of onlookers who stopped to stare.

The younger children, seeing this, couldn’t help but feel proud, secretly regretting not wearing the new robes they’d sewn for the new year. They could only raise their heads high and straighten their backs, strutting like roosters on horseback.

Sheng Shiyue, of course, wasn’t among them.

She didn’t even bother riding a horse, dragging Ning Qingge into a carriage instead. An ice container was tucked into a corner, a plate of pastries and fruit arranged neatly. She rested her head on Ning Qingge’s lap, sprawling on a soft cushion.

Compared to the others baking under the scorching sun, she was quite comfortable, too lazy to even lift a hand. When she wanted to eat, she just opened her mouth.

Ning Qingge, beside her, would set down her book, pick out the food Sheng Shiyue wanted based on her mumbled instructions, scoop it up with a small spoon, and feed it to her lips.

At that moment, Sheng Shiyue held a lychee in her mouth, her cheeks puffed out, but her words didn’t stop. She muttered, “Aren’t they hot?”

Of course they were. To maintain appearances, everyone wore tight-sleeved, intricately patterned riding outfits, adorned with all sorts of accessories but no hats to shield them from the sun. They feared blocking the Emperor’s occasional glance, missing out on nonexistent attention.

On this point, Ning Qingge didn’t indulge her. She flicked Sheng Shiyue’s forehead, not hard enough to leave a mark, just a gesture of reprimand, and scolded, “You’re getting off easy and still complaining.”

Sheng Shiyue laughed, about to burrow into Ning Qingge’s arms, when a soft exclamation came from outside.

Her movements paused as she saw a gray shadow reflected on the carriage curtain.

Someone called out loudly, “The weather’s nice today. Ninth Sister, want to ride around?”

The visitor was the Sixth Princess, Sheng Xianyin.

Impressively, after Sheng Shiyue had injured her with a sword that day, inquiries revealed that despite the severe wound, Sheng Xianyin hadn’t delayed a single day. The next morning, she rose early for court, her actions as composed as ever, showing no sign of weakness—a testament to her deep cunning.

If Sheng Shiyue hadn’t seen her face and fought her for so long, she’d have doubted whether it was really the Sixth Princess that night.

The only clue was something Fang Huaying mentioned in passing: someone seemed to be searching for something, and evidence found in an underground stone cave had been disturbed several times.

Sheng Shiyue knew they were looking for the jade seal she’d dropped. That day, unconscious but still clutching it tightly, Ye Liuyun had deemed it important, pried it from her hand, and hidden it. She only told Sheng Shiyue about it after she woke, sparing her the trouble of it being seen by others.

Changing the subject, Sheng Shiyue said, “Sixth Sister, I’m feeling lazy today, so I’m hiding in the carriage to stay cool. I’ll let others steal the spotlight.”

Sheng Xianyin gave a generous smile and said, “If you’re lazy, fine, but why drag Madam Ning along?”

So it was about Ning Qingge.

Sheng Shiyue raised an eyebrow, giving a forced smile to the woman beside her, recalling how Sheng Xianyin had once come specifically to fetch Ning Qingge.

Ning Qingge, as if she hadn’t heard, kept her eyes on Sheng Shiyue.

Sheng Shiyue huffed softly, then raised her voice, “Is Sixth Sister here for my Madam? Is something up? If not, forget it—she’s busy peeling grapes for me and has no time to go out in the sun.”

Her voice was deliberately loud, especially emphasizing “my Madam.”

The smile of the person outside the carriage froze, clearly provoked.