The Prime Minister Knows How to Handle Her Wife (ABO, GL) - Chapter 52

Chapter 52

“Do you know why they’re so skilled?”

“Hmm.”

Sheng Shiyue pursed her lips, showing a bit of childish embarrassment. She tightened her grip on Ning Qingge’s hand, gently squeezing her fingertips, before saying, “I used to throw tantrums when I couldn’t shoot accurately, and Aunt Qu and the others would coax me like that.”

It was already dusk.

The distant sunset weighed heavily toward the forest, dyeing the green leaves a brilliant gold. When the wind blew, it was as if layers of golden flakes shimmered, stirring the nearby stream.

Because they had lingered on the road for so long, it was already late when they entered the forest. After hunting a wild boar, the group found a spot near the stream, lit a fire, set up camp, and prepared to rest.

Sheng Shiyue naturally didn’t need to labor. Aunt Qu and the others wouldn’t dare let their precious charge work, fearing she might accidentally set the camp on fire or stab her hand with a knife. They shooed her off to wander elsewhere, just not too far.

So, she stole a moment of leisure, holding Ning Qingge’s hand as they strolled slowly along the stream.

Hearing this, Ning Qingge smiled. The orange light fell on her brows, softening her cool features. Her lips curved into a tender, lingering smile as she said, “Why would you throw a tantrum over not shooting accurately?”

Sheng Shiyue’s eyes instinctively darted elsewhere, and she muttered, “Who told that arrow to go crooked?”

Her voice grew quieter, likely aware that she was being unreasonable, blaming the arrow instead of herself.

She quickly changed the subject to salvage her dwindling pride, saying, “That was all in the past. I trained hard for half a month afterward. I may not hit the target from a hundred steps, but I can at least hit the prey now.”

Perhaps due to her Ye family bloodline, Sheng Shiyue had exceptional talent in martial arts. She was usually lazy and unwilling to exert herself, but with just a month or two of effort, she could match a year of others’ hard training.

This reminded Ning Qingge of something from a few days ago. She had initially hired a master to teach Sheng Shiyue. After nearly a month of training, Aunt Qu sought her out, saying the master’s skills were mediocre and that she could teach Sheng Shiyue better herself.

Ning Qingge wasn’t clueless. Someone chosen by Lord Wu’an to stay by Sheng Shiyue’s side, like Aunt Qu, surely had real skill.

She just worried Aunt Qu might spoil Sheng Shiyue too much, reluctant to let her exert herself, so she hadn’t brought it up.

When Aunt Qu noticed her hesitation, she repeatedly promised to be strict with Sheng Shiyue and not let her act spoiled or slack off.

Only then did Ning Qingge agree.

Her thoughts lingered here, and Ning Qingge couldn’t help but lift their joined hands, her thumb brushing over the base of Sheng Shiyue’s thumb, where she could feel faint calluses.

Her expression softened further as she said gently, “Your Highness has worked hard these days.”

Ning Qingge knew how to comfort people. It wasn’t the perfunctory or casual pity others might offer, nor the kind that made people uneasy. Her eyelids lowered slightly, her thick, curled lashes catching the glow of the sunset. As they trembled lightly, shimmering light seemed to spill into her ink-dark eyes, like a sigh or a hint of self-blame.

Sheng Shiyue’s fingertips twitched, and she mumbled, “It’s fine. I always wear wrist guards.”

The wrist guards Sheng Shiyue mentioned weren’t the ones she used to wear, which only reached the wrist and held her sleeves like a cylinder. These were extended with cowhide to cover her entire hand, like gloves, protecting her thumb and fingertips from the bowstring’s wear.

She said this to reassure Ning Qingge, to tell her not to worry. But once spoken, it sounded like she was complaining, as if even through the cowhide, calluses had formed, hinting at how much hardship she’d endured.

Sheng Shiyue quickly added, “It’s not really hard.”

She shifted the topic again, saying, “Ning Wangshu, hire a few tutors for me.”

“Hmm?” Ning Qingge was a bit surprised.

Sheng Shiyue continued, “I’ll practice martial arts in the morning and study in the afternoon.”

Her eyes flicked away for a moment, and her speech started to stumble, stuttering, “I-I said I’d protect you. It’s not just impulsive nonsense. Wangshu, I-I’m serious.”

Her words were a mess, but Ning Qingge understood, visibly pausing for a moment.

Sheng Shiyue grabbed her hand, holding it in her palm.

Her vibrant features still carried a trace of childishness, her eyes reflecting the setting sun with the earnestness unique to youth. She repeated, “With me here, you don’t need to fear anything.”

The usually composed Prime Minister was suddenly at a loss for words, like earlier on horseback. Her lips moved, but she didn’t know what to say, unable to use the excuse of being in a crowd to avoid it like before.

Seeing no response, Sheng Shiyue grew anxious, stepping forward and saying, “Ning Wangshu, earlier, with everyone around, it wasn’t the right time to say these things, so I ended it quickly. But every word I said before came from my heart.”

“I know my current abilities aren’t enough to protect you, but it’s not too late. I’ll work harder. Next year, I’ll have Aunt Qu submit a petition to Her Majesty to grant me a princely title. Then I can attend court like Sixth Princess and Eighth Princess.”

“Even if I can’t say much yet, they won’t dare bully you in my presence.”

Sheng Shiyue didn’t have much time to think; this was all she could come up with.

Ning Qingge still didn’t know what to say, or perhaps, at this moment, any words felt inadequate.

The only thing that could throw an adult off balance was always the fearlessness and recklessness of youth. They didn’t understand pretense or flattery, only the person in their heart.

“Sheng Jiu…” Ning Qingge called softly.

Sheng Shiyue felt a bit awkward, wanting to clear her throat to ease the tension but stopping herself. Finally, she lowered her head slightly, bending forward, unable to resist pulling Ning Qingge closer.

Her hair fell, swaying in the breeze. Sheng Shiyue tilted her head slightly, and Ning Qingge’s eyelids fluttered.

Just as they were about to touch, Ning Qingge’s eyes shifted, her voice suddenly stern as she said, “Sheng Jiu, there’s someone over there.”

Sheng Shiyue froze, thinking it was Aunt Qu and her shameless crew sneaking up. But when her gaze flicked to the side, her pupils shrank.

This was…

“That new martial champion!” Sheng Shiyue gasped.

In the narrow stream nearby, a person floated face-up, seemingly unconscious. Their clothes were disheveled, their left abdomen sliced open by a blade, the flesh torn and staining the surrounding water red, looking utterly horrific.

In the distance, it seemed someone was chasing, causing birds in the forest to scatter with flapping wings.

“Save them,” Ning Qingge decided instantly.

As soon as she spoke, Sheng Shiyue blew a whistle. Zhendong, circling above, swooped down. She immediately said, “Go, call them here.”

With pursuers close behind and the unconscious person heavy, even if she and Ning Qingge tried their hardest, they couldn’t drag them far without leaving obvious traces. It was better to call for help. If the pursuers caught up, seeing their numbers, they wouldn’t dare act rashly.

Zhendong grabbed her jade pendant and flew off.

Sheng Shiyue turned, took a few steps to the stream, and reached for the person’s shoulder.

Fortunately, though the stream wasn’t wide, it was deep and fast, allowing the person to float and drift quickly downstream, diluting the bl00d and letting the martial champion escape pursuit.

But this also made it harder for Sheng Shiyue to pull them out. It took great effort to drag half their body ashore. Ning Qingge helped by grabbing their arm, but perhaps the wound hit the riverbank, as the unconscious person suddenly groaned, spitting out a mouthful of bl00d, their face growing paler.

Seeing this, Sheng Shiyue and Ning Qingge didn’t dare move them further, waiting until urgent hoofbeats echoed from the forest.

“Your Highness!”

Aunt Qu and the others rushed over in a panic. Even in the royal hunting grounds, safety wasn’t guaranteed. Since it was only opened a few times a year, wild boars, tigers, and other fierce beasts were plentiful. They thought Sheng Shiyue and Ning Qingge were in danger, signaled by Zhendong’s call for help. They abandoned their pots, pans, tents, and prey, grabbing knives and racing over on horseback.

Only when they reached the two and saw them unharmed did they breathe a sigh of relief. Then, their eyes swept over and saw the person, hesitating as they said, “Your Highness, this…”

Sheng Shiyue, too busy to explain, waved and said, “Save them first.”

The group quickly obeyed. Ye Chili led the way, Ye Liuyun covered the rear, erasing traces. In moments, they returned to camp.

Since Xu Sanchi had gotten drunk at a gambling den the day they left, they hadn’t brought her along. The camp was far from the hunting grounds’ edge, and the martial champion’s injuries were severe. They might die from bl00d loss before reaching help. So, Aunt Qu found some herbs and used rough military methods to stitch the wound.

A quarter-hour later, the sky turned completely dark.

A roaring bonfire blazed in the center of the camp. The wild boar they’d hunted was cut into pieces and roasted over the fire.

Because Sheng Shiyue was picky, the roasting was meticulous. The meat was sliced thin, marinated with spices, and brushed with wild honey they’d found, flipped constantly until the aroma wafted out.

But everyone’s attention was drawn elsewhere.

Since they returned to camp, people had been searching nearby, hoofbeats shaking the ground. Even after dark, they didn’t stop, lighting torches and scouring everywhere.

Rustling footsteps came from nearby. The group’s gazes, previously cast outward, turned back. They exchanged looks, then silently focused on the fire.

Some flipped the meat, others added wood. Sheng Shiyue sat beside Ning Qingge, holding her hand, writing and drawing on it, asking Ning Qingge to guess what she wrote or drew. When Ning Qingge couldn’t guess, Sheng Shiyue pouted, saying, “You don’t understand me at all.” It looked like everyone was busy with their own tasks.

When Qu Yu arrived, this was the scene she saw.

Her face darkened slightly, but she quickly forced a smile, dismounted, and clasped her fists, saying, “Your Ninth Highness, Prime Minister, sorry for disturbing you late at night.”

Ning Qingge started to stand, but Sheng Shiyue held her back, lazily resting her head on Ning Qingge’s shoulder. In a familiar, teasing tone, she said, “What’s Officer Qu doing here instead of staying at her own camp? Don’t tell me my roasted meat smells so good it lured Officer Qu over?”

Her seemingly harmless words made Qu Yu’s face darken instantly.

Having missed this year’s martial exam, with the next one uncertain—especially since Her Majesty was aging and showing signs of frailty—if the emperor passed unexpectedly and a new one took the throne, the triennial martial exam would be delayed until the third year of the new reign.

By then, Qu Yu would be nearly thirty. Even if she luckily became the martial champion, it wouldn’t mean much. So, the Lieutenant arranged a low-ranking military post in the capital for her—an eighth-rank officer.

For ordinary people, this was a fine position, but for someone once hailed as a prodigy with a bright future, this minor role was too small, too insignificant. She forbade anyone around her from mentioning it.

Now, Sheng Shiyue, the very reason she couldn’t take the martial exam, kept calling her Officer Qu, rubbing salt and chili into her wound.

No wonder she lost her composure.

But Qu Yu forced herself to swallow her anger, leading her horse forward and saying, “Your Highness jests. During the day, I spotted a black bear and planned to lead a team to kill it, but these useless fools let it escape.”

To sound convincing, she glared back at her men.

Sheng Shiyue followed her gaze, looking behind her. A mere eighth-rank officer had an entourage almost rivaling a royal heir’s outing, with strong, sturdy guards exuding a sharp, military air.

“Your Highness knows an injured black bear is the most dangerous. If it goes mad and hurts someone, wouldn’t that be my fault? So, I can’t delay. I’m searching through the night to find that bear.”

Sheng Shiyue’s head ached, not understanding why Qu Yu was suddenly speaking so formally, unlike at the racetrack. But then she caught Qu Yu sneaking a glance at Ning Qingge.

Sheng Shiyue laughed in exasperation.

She didn’t know if it was Ning Qingge’s charm or her own lack of intimidation, but everyone seemed to have their eyes on her wife.

The racetrack dispute wasn’t just about her stealing Qu Yu’s spotlight; Ning Qingge’s marriage to her was likely another reason.

Qu Yu continued, “We’ve searched everywhere around here but found no trace of the bear, so we can only…”

“Only search other people’s camps,” Sheng Shiyue finished.

She sneered, “Qu Yu, if you’re going to lie, at least use your brain. How could I hide an injured black bear in my camp, keeping it perfectly still?”

“You might as well say you lost something and suspect I stole it!”

Sheng Shiyue casually took a piece of roasted meat from someone nearby, blew on it, and acted as if Qu Yu was less important than the meat.

Qu Yu grew angrier.

Reasons?

As the Lieutenant’s daughter, she didn’t need reasons. Ordinary people would lift their tent flaps for her inspection without her asking. If they didn’t cooperate, a beating would do.

Only with Sheng Shiyue did she need to waste words.

Provoked again and again, Qu Yu finally couldn’t hold back her anger. She said coldly, “The situation is urgent. Please cooperate, Your Ninth Highness.”

“And if I don’t?” Sheng Shiyue handed the cooled meat to Ning Qingge.

Since Sheng Shiyue held her down, Ning Qingge had kept her head lowered, not saying a word, making people overlook her presence. Only now did she move.

Everyone’s eyes turned to her, inexplicably tense.

No matter how much they bickered, they were just kids relying on their elders’ power.

But Ning Qingge was the one with real authority, second only to the emperor.

Qu Yu swallowed hard, straightening up only when she thought of her Lieutenant mother.

Yet Ning Qingge seemed detached, only lowering her head to bite the meat.

She gave full face to Sheng Shiyue, who had vowed to protect her.

This act was clearly to placate Sheng Shiyue, but Qu Yu misunderstood, thinking Ning Qingge didn’t want to get involved because of her mother. Her posture grew even straighter as she shouted, “Please don’t make this difficult, Your Ninth Highness!”

Sheng Shiyue raised an eyebrow, too lazy to say more, and snapped, “Get lost!”

As her voice rang out, Aunt Qu and the others stood, glaring coldly at the other side.

Qu Yu’s men gripped their sword hilts, showing caution.

A log in the bonfire collapsed with a “thud,” sparks flying everywhere, and the atmosphere grew tense.