The Prince Consort Is Also Pretending To Be Affectionate Today - Chapter 13

13: Sleeping Together

The figure rushing toward her was like a startled rabbit with nowhere to hide, desperately seeking a safe haven.

Shen Zhuwan froze for a moment before reaching out to catch the person.

A familiar embrace, carrying the warm scent of oranges.

Her cyan lotus-colored sleeve skirt fluttered, and an invisible wave of energy gently surged, sending the oncoming black-clad figure flying. Shen Zhuwan calmly withdrew her hand, her voice growing colder: “Guards.”

Two figures quickly appeared in the air—Shadow One and Shadow Two. Without needing further instructions from Shen Zhuwan, they immediately launched an attack on the black-clad figure.

The assassin, overwhelmed by the assault, gave Ji Rongjin, who had been fleeing in a panic, a brief moment to catch her breath.

Before she could fully recover, a voice sounded by her ear: “Consort, it’s safe now.”

The tone was cold but carried a rare hint of reassurance.

Ji Rongjin, whose mind was still somewhat blank from exhaustion, finally regained some clarity. She thought to herself that her physical condition really needed improvement—otherwise, she couldn’t keep throwing herself into Shen Zhuwan’s arms for rescue every time.

Wait a second.

Ji Rongjin moved her hands, feeling the soft, silky fabric brushing against her wrists, carrying a pleasant cool fragrance that tickled her nose. The front of her clothing pressed tightly against the other’s, and even through the fabric, she could faintly feel the warmth of the person in her arms.

Unlike the brief, accidental embrace from before, this time her hands were like vines, wrapped tightly around the slender, almost fragile waist of the woman in her arms, leaving no gap between them.

Ji Rongjin dazedly recalled the delicate, fair wrist she had once gripped tightly. Now, she was clinging to this woman’s waist—by all accounts, this was the behavior of a rogue.

But then she remembered that the woman in her arms was her nominal wife, and this roguish behavior took on a different meaning—flirtation.

Seeing no response from the woman in her arms, Shen Zhuwan assumed she was too frightened to react and didn’t press further.

But in the next moment, Ji Rongjin suddenly let go of her, jumping back as if scalded, stammering, “W-W-Wife… I-I-I…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but Shen Zhuwan had already seen through her flustered thoughts from her flushed face.

With a slight shift in her thoughts, Shen Zhuwan’s lips curved faintly: “It seems I’ve saved my consort quite a few times recently.”

The woman’s teasing gaze made Ji Rongjin feel both embarrassed and shy. Indeed, what kind of husband constantly calls for his wife to save him?

So, with her head lowered and her face slightly red, she said, “Thank you, my lady, for saving my life.”

Shen Zhuwan’s gaze fell on the girl’s forehead, slightly damp with sweat from running. Her eyes shifted, landing on the open collar of Ji Rongjin’s clothing.

The exposed skin gleamed pale under the light, like fine porcelain with a lustrous sheen. A single red mole stood out at the center of her delicate collarbone, like a lone plum blossom amidst a field of snow, strikingly vivid.

Shen Zhuwan discreetly averted her gaze, paused, and then took a step forward.

When those slender, fair fingers reached toward her, Ji Rongjin was still a bit dazed. This time, she didn’t dodge, letting the hand smooth out the fabric at her collar.

The touch was gentle, yet it felt like a drum beating in her chest. With each movement, she could feel a restless thumping in her heart, pounding as if it might burst out—a perfectly normal reaction after running, of course.

But when she met Shen Zhuwan’s playful eyes, her face flushed uncontrollably.

“You look much better like this, Consort.” Shen Zhuwan said.

Ji Rongjin gave an awkward smile. Her clothing was now neatly adjusted, but she was far more conscious of it than when it had been open. The places where Shen Zhuwan’s fingers had brushed felt like ants crawling over her skin, itchy and tingling, making her want to scratch but hesitant to do so.

In the brief time they conversed, the black-clad figure was clearly no match for Shadow One and Shadow Two. They pinned the assassin by the shoulders, forcing them to kneel before Shen Zhuwan.

The black-clad figure seemed to be a woman, and her voice sounded vaguely familiar to Ji Rongjin: “Kill me or torture me, do as you please.”

As Ji Rongjin tried to recall where she had heard the voice before, Shen Zhuwan had already signaled for the figure to be taken away—without even bothering to lift the assassin’s mask.

The assassination attempt that had stirred the entire household came to an end. Dongmei, Ji Rongjin’s maid, was unharmed, though she had been struck and was experiencing some chest pain.

Ji Rongjin followed Shen Zhuwan back to their room.

.

After such an incident, Ji Rongjin should have been afraid or worried.

But standing in the room now, her mind was filled with one thought: thank goodness for the commotion—surely the princess wouldn’t be in the mood tonight.

She cheerfully headed toward her small bed, but after taking just a couple of steps, Shen Zhuwan called out to her.

By then, Shen Zhuwan had already shed her outer dress, leaving only a pristine white undergarment. She leaned against the bedpost, her long, dark hair cascading over her shoulders.

Gone was the cold, dignified air she carried during the day; now, she seemed softer, more approachable.

“Where will my consort sleep tonight?” she asked.

Perhaps it was the candlelight, but Ji Rongjin felt there was a touch of indescribable warmth in Shen Zhuwan’s tone.

Even so, her steps faltered.

Ji Rongjin turned, her expression uneasy, and carefully said, “My fever hasn’t fully subsided, and I fear passing it to Your Highness. I’ll sleep on the couch tonight.”

“No matter.” Shen Zhuwan replied, her expression calm but her voice carrying a faint, almost imperceptible trace of amusement. “My health has always been robust, so you needn’t worry.”

Ji Rongjin froze, not expecting such a response. Her ears reddened as she declined, “No, really, my lady. My sleeping habits aren’t great…”

Shen Zhuwan gave her a half-smile, saying nothing, but her expression and demeanor clearly conveyed one message: I don’t mind.

The girl before her seemed to think of something, her face flushing deeply. Shen Zhuwan could tell she was struggling internally, her cheeks puffing out as she bit them. Finally, Ji Rongjin looked up, her tone one of desperate resignation: “Princess, I… after sparring with Young Master Lin that day, I… I suddenly… couldn’t perform.”

Shen Zhuwan paused, suddenly understanding what Ji Rongjin had been dodging all this time.

Realizing it belatedly, she nearly laughed in exasperation.

So this was what she’d been thinking about, even coming up with such an excuse. Truly, she’d gone to great lengths.

Biting back her frustration, Shen Zhuwan said coldly, “Then the consort can sleep on the couch from now on.”

With that, she slipped into bed, leaving only an indignant back facing the stunned Ji Rongjin.

Shen Zhuwan was genuinely annoyed, but as her anger subsided, a glint of realization flickered in her deep eyes.

It seemed her suspicions were correct.

As Shen Zhuwan lowered her gaze in thought, she keenly sensed a presence above her.

She didn’t react, and a moment later, the girl moved away from the bedside.

Shen Zhuwan’s heart slowly settled, but before it fully did, a soft puff sounded, and the candle went out.

In the darkness, she heard the girl cautiously approach the bed, her trembling voice barely coherent: “P-Princess… I-I’m coming in…”

Shen Zhuwan frowned, not yet grasping the meaning of those words. In the next moment, the girl slipped under the covers, her trembling hands reaching out toward her.

Thud!

A loud noise echoed through the room, startling Dongmei and Jinxi, who were keeping watch outside. They called out, “Princess? What happened?”

No one responded.

Inside the room, Ji Rongjin, wrapped in the blanket, pressed herself against the wall, looking utterly defeated. By the faint moonlight, she could see the expression on the woman in bed.

That usually composed face finally cracked—shock, disbelief, and anger flashed across it before settling into the calm before a storm.

Shen Zhuwan looked at her, her tone colder than ever, addressing her by her full name.

“Ji Rongjin,” she said, barely containing her fury. “Get back to your couch.”