The Prime Minister Knows How to Handle Her Wife (ABO, GL) - Chapter 49

Chapter 49

The wind still whistled around, with layers of tree shade blocking the sunlight. Horseshoes clashed against stones, making a clattering sound. A faint lychee fragrance lingered, and raised strands of hair tangled together, inseparable.

Sheng Shiyue paused for a moment, not yet reacting, when she heard the sound of someone approaching from behind.

She wrapped one arm around Ning Qingge’s waist, pulling her close, then swung the rope and urged the white horse to move faster with her legs.

Behind them, Sheng Xianyin was already showing signs of exhaustion. The wound on her chest tore open with the intense movement, faintly seeping bl00d.

She let out a muffled groan, her lips slightly pale. Wanting to keep going but powerless, she could only watch as Sheng Shiyue and the others disappeared around a corner.

Sheng Shiyue didn’t linger. Ning Qingge’s sudden teasing completely erased her playful mood toward the other, now only wanting to leave quickly and make Ning Qingge explain.

Birds in the treetops were startled, flapping their wings and flying off, unsure whether they turned right or left. The sound behind them faded completely.

Ning Qingge, who caused all this, was remarkably calm, not even dodging. She still tilted her head, looking at Sheng Shiyue.

No wonder her riding skills were poor. Sheng Shiyue had demonstrated for so long, yet she learned nothing, her attention entirely on the other. It was unclear if she’d fall off the horse from distraction, making it hard to feel at ease.

At a slightly flatter spot, Sheng Shiyue gently pulled the reins, calling out, “Whoa.”

The white horse snorted, slowing its pace from a gallop to a jog. Its hooves landed leisurely. From earlier until now, it had carried the two without stopping for six or seven miles, showing no signs of fatigue, even seeming reluctant to stop, still moving forward slowly.

Sheng Shiyue didn’t have time to call it to a halt. As she slowed down, Ning Qingge leaned up and kissed the corner of her mouth.

Used to Ning Qingge’s confidence, this time she seemed eager and reckless.

Sheng Shiyue raised a hand to hook around Ning Qingge’s neck, pressing her to bend and lower her head, drawing even closer.

The waist under her hand twisted as Ning Qingge turned, becoming even firmer.

Their breaths intertwined, lips and teeth clashing. The horse’s jolting made them press closer, tightly together, their green and blue robes blending into one.

The cost of such urgency was chaotic breathing, without rhythm. Yet Ning Qingge didn’t change, still eager to explore, to claim, even risking breathlessness, hooking Sheng Shiyue’s tongue, allowing no escape.

A glistening silver thread stretched and broke. Ning Qingge’s red lips, now glossy, had a small cut, causing Sheng Shiyue to hiss.

But Ning Qingge’s way of apologizing was unique. Not only did she not let go, she bit down harder, pulling the hand on her body upward.

Sheng Shiyue’s breath hitched, overwhelmed by an even fiercer kiss.

The guided hand reached a curve, then settled on the taut neck. Her fingers curled, her grip like a vice. The veins on the back of her hand bulged, as if restraining or exerting force.

Her lips were wet, her eyes flushed from lack of air. Gasps mixed in, unclear whose they were, both losing reason, vying for control.

They reached a tall camphor tree, its dense green leaves layered, letting only specks of light fall, forming butterfly-like spots on their faces.

If someone stumbled upon this scene, they’d surely misunderstand, as Sheng Xianyin had shouted earlier, for it was quite a sight.

Ning Qingge’s frame was slender, slightly shorter than Sheng Shiyue, fully enveloped in her arms, appearing fragile. One hand pressed on Sheng Shiyue’s neck, the other gripped the wrist of the hand on her neck. Even her tilted touch seemed like a struggle, as if Sheng Shiyue was forcing her.

But only Sheng Shiyue knew she was the one being claimed. Tears gathered at her eyes, falling like pearls.

“Little Jiu, Little Jiu…” A hoarse murmur carried decadent desire.

The lychee fragrance around was thick, unrestrained, spreading to the branches and leaves, as if they’d fallen into a lychee grove.

Sheng Shiyue’s gaze blurred for a moment. The bitter medicine and acupuncture these days had some effect, at least she wasn’t as indifferent as before.

“Little Jiu,” Ning Qingge pressed against her earlobe, as if nibbling a translucent ruby, whispering, “Want, want me.”

Sheng Shiyue froze at the words, her hand around Ning Qingge unconsciously tightening, leaving mottled marks even through the fabric.

The sash loosened, and the once neat outfit became disheveled.

Zhaoye sped up again, passing a narrow path. The road ahead became easier, with tall trees standing but not crowded, allowing the white horse to weave through freely.

The hunting ground was sealed off for ten miles, barring commoners, so prey was abundant. Rabbits and foxes darted by now and then.

Zhaoye, ever clever, remembered Sheng Shiyue’s past hunts here, always drawing a bow to shoot. Seeing prey, it snorted, trying to remind her.

But Sheng Shiyue was busy with other things, paying no attention.

Zhaoye raised its head and hooves, growing anxious.

Sheng Shiyue didn’t stop it, but Ning Qingge suddenly groaned, unable to bear it, falling into Sheng Shiyue’s arms. She reached for the reins, calling in a broken voice, “Zhaoye, Zhaoye, don’t move.”

The mischievous one lowered her head, chuckling by Ning Qingge’s ear, feigning anger, “You’re thinking of others at a time like this.”

To punish her, she deliberately stayed still, using Ning Qingge’s inability to turn against her. A wicked streak surged, daring to threaten her this way.

Before Ning Qingge could respond, the horse grew restless. Seeing another prey dart by and Sheng Shiyue still unmoved, it stomped its hooves, rearing up.

Sheng Shiyue quickly looped the reins with her left hand, steadying herself. The fingers that refused to move were forced deeper, enveloped by dampness.

Ning Qingge let out an uncontrolled cry, then gasped heavily.

No rain fell, yet their clothes bore dark stains, even marking the saddle.

“Hyah!”

To keep Zhaoye from causing trouble, Sheng Shiyue urged it to run faster, forgetting the inherent jolts. Riding was far less steady than a carriage, constantly rising and falling.

This suited someone perfectly. Usually delicate and lazy, often complaining of sore arms and making the Kunze move herself, now both were spared effort.

The surrounding fragrance grew thicker, like peeled lychees crushed in a bucket, juice splattering, filling the space with sweet scent, enveloping Sheng Shiyue.

Even the wind couldn’t dispel it, only rustling the leaves, masking faint gasps.

Her tongue grazed her itching teeth. Sheng Shiyue felt an unfamiliar restlessness, lowering her head to bite Ning Qingge’s neck.

“Hiss…” Ning Qingge trembled, like prey bitten at a vital spot, with no choice but to submit.

Rounding a small hill, they reached an uphill path. Ning Qingge, drained, tugged Sheng Shiyue’s sleeve, murmuring, “Enough, enough.”

But Sheng Shiyue didn’t stop, biting a deep mark on her neck.

A falcon circled overhead, searching for someone.

Sheng Shiyue glanced up, knowing she had duties. She could fool around alone and brush it off, but Ning Qingge’s status was different. If she was absent at the hunt’s start, it would cause discontent.

She whistled, and a snow-white falcon—Zhenfeng, her cherished sea eagle—swooped down, landing on her raised arm.

Ye Liuyun and the others must have noticed she took Ning Qingge away, unable to find them on the path, so they released Zhenfeng.

Ning Qingge, still dazed, rested with half-closed eyes, too weak to ask questions. She watched Sheng Shiyue take a jade pendant from her waist, let the falcon carry it, and fly off.

Sheng Shiyue checked the sky, then kissed Ning Qingge’s sweat-soaked forehead, saying softly, “Liuyun and the others are coming. Change clothes later and rest in the carriage.”

By custom, the hunting team left at dawn, rested at noon, then traveled another hour and a half to the hunting ground.

Sheng Shiyue figured it was just past noon. When Ye Liuyun arrived, they could take a shortcut to the hunting ground, possibly arriving before the main group.

The only issue was whether Ye Liuyun would understand her intent.

Usually, if Sheng Shiyue chased prey and left the group, Ye Liuyun would release Zhenfeng to find her. If she’d finished hunting, she’d follow the falcon back. If still tracking, she’d send an item with the falcon, and Ye Liuyun would follow it.

But this time, Sheng Shiyue wasn’t hunting and didn’t want Ye Liuyun to come on horseback. She wanted a carriage for Ning Qingge to rest.

She clicked her tongue, muttering, “Trouble.”

In this wilderness, without paper or pen, she could only hope Ye Liuyun understood.

Ning Qingge, unaware of her thoughts, grabbed Sheng Shiyue’s hand, placing it on her waist, saying in a hoarse voice, “Sore.”

Riding already caused aches, let alone this. Even Ning Qingge, usually fit, couldn’t help complaining.

But complaining was useless; she brought it on herself.

Sheng Shiyue smiled, happily rubbing her waist.

After about two incense sticks’ time, someone arrived on horseback.

The lychee scent had faded, barely noticeable unless sniffed closely.

The newcomer showed no suspicion, only glancing at the exhausted Ning Qingge, then said, “The entrance here is narrow; the carriage can’t enter. I came to report. Qu Li and the others took another route. We’ll find them if we go a bit further.”

They understood. Sheng Shiyue raised a brow, riding off with Ye Liuyun.

Soon, they spotted Qu Li and the others. Perhaps because Sheng Shiyue had run off, Qu Li looked displeased and was about to complain when Sheng Shiyue waved her off.

She whispered, “Don’t make noise. Let her sleep.”

Ning Qingge, in her arms, had fallen asleep on the jolting horse.

Everyone quieted, showing surprise and curiosity.

Sheng Shiyue, ignoring them, carried Ning Qingge off the horse and into the carriage, lowering the curtain, silencing all sound.

The group exchanged glances, their emotions complex, tinged with the relief of watching a child grow.

To avoid disturbing them, everyone moved lightly, speaking far off, until it grew late, and they slowly left the forest.

—

When Ning Qingge woke up, they were near the hunting ground’s entrance. Something delayed them, arriving later than usual, with no sign of the dragon carriage.

Qu Li sent Ye Chili to scout, while the others waited.

A breeze lifted the carriage curtain, but someone pressed it down, keeping the light dim.

Their positions had switched. Sheng Shiyue, now inside with a book, didn’t read but fanned Ning Qingge, resting on her lap, with the book.

Though the weather was fine, it was a hot summer day. The sealed carriage, with melted ice in the corner and no new blocks, relied on this to cool off.

The faint breeze lifted Ning Qingge’s hair, bringing coolness. Her refined features relaxed, oddly gentle. Though her usual bed was softer, she slept soundly in this cramped space.

Since they’d stay at the hunting ground for days, the carriage held several outfits for emergencies.

Fearing discomfort, Sheng Shiyue had changed Ning Qingge into loose inner clothes, using a robe as a blanket.

Rustling came from outside—Ye Chili returning.

Sheng Shiyue listened. During the noon rest, Qu Yu had clashed with the new martial champion, delaying the group.

Sheng Shiyue nodded, then saw Ning Qingge awake.

She admired Ning Qingge’s ability, honed somehow. No matter how exhausting the night, she woke at the right hour, clear-eyed, no trace of fatigue, ready to rise. Sheng Shiyue, who lingered in bed, couldn’t tell if she’d slept.

Setting the book aside, Sheng Shiyue offered a prepared drink—thirst water, a concentrated fruit beverage with sugar or honey, diluted for drinking, cooled in summer, warmed in winter. Sheng Shiyue, who found plain water bland, loved it, even bringing it on short trips.

After a nap, Ning Qingge felt stuffy and meant to dodge but smelled the sweet fruit, sipping once.

One sip was enough; she didn’t like overly sweet things.

Sheng Shiyue didn’t mind, drinking the rest herself.

Ning Qingge laughed, her voice hoarse, teasing, “Like a child.”

Sheng Shiyue set the cup down, annoyed, glaring at Ning Qingge. She’d cared for her so long, yet got no praise, only criticism.

Ning Qingge chuckled, praising, “A caring child.”

Praised yet not, Sheng Shiyue frowned, unsure what felt off, lacking joy, feeling awkward.

Ning Qingge, teasing upon waking, felt no guilt, kissing Sheng Shiyue’s hand as comfort, then saying helplessly, “Our Little Jiu is the best.”

Sheng Shiyue couldn’t stand it. A prime minister should know how to praise, she thought, pinching Ning Qingge’s cheek, scolding, “Ning Qingge.”

Ning Qingge restrained herself, but her eyes still sparkled with amusement, as if teasing was great fun.

Sheng Shiyue rolled her eyes, recalling earlier events, letting it go for now. Then, changing tone, she asked, “Ning Qingge, why do you have a tattoo on your lower back?”