Chapter 62

Chapter 62

A child’s innocent words instantly broke the silent tension in the tent. Ming Tang, still composing herself, heard the remark and glanced at Pei Ze, who was buried under the brocade quilt with only his round head peeking out. Meeting his clear eyes, she silently repeated, "My bad, my bad..." She had actually regretted agreeing to let Pei Ze stay with them tonight.

Inside the bedchamber, Pei Yue’s presence was palpable. Ming Tang fixed her gaze on the quilt’s embroidered patterns, afraid that looking at Pei Yue again might stir thoughts inappropriate for a child’s world.

“Story?” Pei Yue also needed a new topic to divert his attention, so he followed Pei Ze’s lead.

Pei Ze nodded eagerly from under the quilt. “Mommy tells stories, then sleep~”

Pei Yue understood: it was about telling something to lull Pei Ze to sleep.

It wasn’t yet his usual bedtime. Ming Tang glanced sideways at the two lying snugly under the same quilt, looking quite intimate. A thought struck her, and she suggested, “How about letting your uncle tell you a story today?”

Pei Ze was immediately captivated by the idea and instantly abandoned Ming Tang, squirming excitedly in the quilt to turn towards Pei Yue. “Uncle tell story~”

Then, he realized that being so close to Pei Yue, he couldn’t even see his uncle’s face.

Tilting his head back, Pei Ze strained to lean towards Ming Tang until he nearly rolled out of the quilt’s confines, only to be held in place by Pei Yue’s hand. “Don’t want to be with Uncle?”

Pei Ze hastily denied it, then looked left and right, satisfied when both his uncle and aunt were in view. He instructed Pei Yue, “Uncle, you can start the story now.”

Pei Yue pondered for a moment. Unsure what kind of stories Ming Tang usually told Pei Ze, he decided to recount his recent travels. Though his journey had been official business, the thousand-mile distance meant encounters with all sorts of people, events, and objects—even a brief mention of one would be entirely new to Pei Ze.

For the first time, Pei Ze experienced the joy of truly listening to an adult’s tale. Thrilled, whenever Pei Yue showed signs of stopping, he would wheedle and pester for another.

And Pei Yue, seeing the nearly identical expressions of anticipation on Ming Tang and Pei Ze’s faces, always obliged.

After story after story, with Pei Ze still wide awake, Pei Yue, who felt he’d used up a month’s worth of words, could only think: “...”

Did Pei Ze always get this excited? This state was hardly a prelude to sleep. Pei Yue wondered if he had misunderstood—perhaps Ming Tang’s “storytelling” took a different form, one that actually lulled Pei Ze to sleep.

“It’s late, A Ze. Time to sleep,” Pei Yue said with a slight frown, refusing when Pei Ze begged for yet another tale.

Wound up from the novelty, Pei Ze blinked under the quilt, well aware of how to use his advantage, and pleaded sweetly, “Uncle is the best~”

Though he knew his little nephew had ulterior motives, Pei Yue couldn’t suppress a smile. Still, he held firm. “Time to sleep.”

No more stories… Ming Tang, who had been listening in, couldn’t help feeling disappointed. Though Pei Yue’s casual narration couldn’t compare to the polished prose of storybooks, his firsthand experiences were far more captivating than those predictable plots.

Noticing Ming Tang’s slight disappointment out of the corner of his eye, Pei Yue nearly relented when Pei Ze rolled into his arms and begged with puppy-dog eyes.

Fortunately, the tug on his sleepwear snapped him out of it. He refused firmly, then turned to Ming Tang with a question: “Does A Ze always act like this?”

Ming Tang shook her head. “Perhaps my stories aren’t interesting enough—A Ze falls asleep as soon as I start.”

In this context, “uninteresting” was not the point; “falls asleep” was the key. Ming Tang could almost feel Pei Yue’s silent plea for help. With a composed nod, she retrieved her dedicated sleep-inducing book and flipped it open.

After Pei Ze had once pointed out her repetition, Ming Tang had learned to bookmark her progress each morning. Now, she easily found where she’d left off the previous night.

While Pei Yue still harbored hope, Pei Ze was already showing signs of disappointment. He moved away from Pei Yue and lay down properly.

Moments later, accompanied by the gentle rustle of turning pages, Ming Tang’s voice grew softer and slower.

Having traveled a thousand miles and attended an early morning audience with the emperor, Pei Yue lay in the familiar bed of Cheng Yi Hall, breathing in the faint, familiar fragrance. His anxious heart, which had been tethered to home all this time, finally settled—as if only now had he truly returned.

His thoughts seemed to sync with Ming Tang’s low, soothing voice, growing sluggish. His eyelids grew heavy, and a profound drowsiness overtook him.

Having observed others’ pre-sleep behavior for some time, Pei Ze secretly peeked at Pei Yue and was shocked to see him also about to doze off. Do all adults fall asleep to this story?

Unaware of Pei Ze’s reaction, Pei Yue shook off some drowsiness, reached out to lower the bed curtains, instantly making the space even more conducive to sleep.

Ming Tang’s breathing had already evened out in sleep. Pei Yue leaned over, closed the book, and set it on the pillow. Just as he was about to adjust her into a more comfortable position, she shifted naturally in her sleep.

Smiling, Pei Yue tucked the quilt around Pei Ze, then lay back. Sleep claimed him—until he felt a slight tug on his sleepwear.

Then, a small voice whispered, “Uncle, are you asleep?”

Pei Yue: “...” So Pei Ze was still awake?

Recalling their earlier conversation, Pei Yue finally understood: Ming Tang was the storyteller, and she was also the one who fell asleep.

As for Pei Ze… Pei Yue closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

Receiving no response, Pei Ze looked around, sighed, and resigned himself to sleeping obediently, just as he had the past few nights.

The next day, after the trio greeted Mrs. Pei, Pei Ze, feeling left out, ran to his grandmother and confided in a small voice, “Uncle and Mama slept and ignored A Ze~”

To Pei Ze, this was a simple statement of fact, but to adults, the meaning was far more suggestive. His words instantly silenced everyone in the room.

Mrs. Pei knew it didn’t mean what it sounded like. Smiling, she corrected him. Seeing his confused expression—clearly unaware of his misstep—she sighed. “If they ignored you, A Ze, you can stay with Grandmother at night from now on.”

Though unsure what had happened the previous night to prompt such a misleading remark, to spare her son and daughter-in-law embarrassment, it was best to return to how things were.

Pei Ze protested. “A Ze wants to stay with Mama. It’s not like there wasn’t room when Uncle came back?”

Ming Tang chimed in cheerfully, “Because it’s your uncle’s territory. He decides.”

Pei Yue took the hint and played along with a grave nod.

Even at his young age, Pei Ze understood ownership—Pei Yue named his horse, and he named his cat.

Reminded that it was Pei Yue’s domain, Pei Ze couldn’t argue. But the thought of never being allowed to stay overnight again was too sad to bear. After stammering helplessly, his eyes welled up. Seeing the adults unmoved, he grudgingly accepted the truth.

When taken to see his pony at Cheng Yi Hall and reminded by Nanny Zhou that it was time to leave, Pei Ze acted as if it were a final farewell. “Goodbye, pony~ Can’t play with you tonight~”

But he deliberately ignored Ming Tang, turning his head with a soft “hmph,” still mad at her for “picking Uncle instead of A Ze.”

The once-frail black kitten, now healthy and shiny-coated after days of pampering, meowed loudly in response, hopping out of its bed to wind between Pei Ze’s legs, as if heartbroken by his departure.

“When A Ze has his own place, I’ll take you with me~” Pei Ze’s hurt feelings were immediately mended. He stroked the pony’s back twice, then lifted his chin and shot Ming Tang another “hmph” before leaving.

Ming Tang couldn’t stop laughing at his dramatics.

His sulking was downright cute~

Unable to properly express his anger, Pei Ze huffed as Nanny Zhou bundled him into a cloak. Only when he saw the lingering kitten at the door did he brighten.

Once Pei Ze was gone, the black cat, Xiao Ma, instantly dropped its clingy act. It sauntered back to its bed, lazily meowed, and began batting at a small woven ball the maids had made for it.

Where was the reluctance from earlier?

Having witnessed the entire performance, Ming Tang was amazed. She scratched Xiao Ma under the chin. “What an actor you are.” If this were a cat café, it’d be the star attraction within a month.

Xiao Ma blinked its big, innocent eyes, nuzzled her palm, and sweetly meowed, as if completely oblivious to human speech.

With the twelfth lunar month underway, the capital’s festive atmosphere grew thicker by the day. The grander the household, the busier they were. Yet a series of imperial edicts cast a bloody shadow over every official’s home in the city.

The prominent Liu family of Fengxiang was wiped out almost overnight, with members sentenced to execution or exile based on their blood ties, convicted of multiple crimes including murder, false accusations, and land seizures.

For those in the capital, it was merely a little-known local clan, and only those related by blood felt uneasy. The rest were unsettled by the emperor’s harsh decree just before the New Year.

The imperial edict was issued in the morning, and by noon, the news had spread. By evening, families had already begun reining in their young men, afraid that even small mistakes might catch the emperor’s displeased eye—losing prospects was the least concern; the real worry was implicating the entire household.

Only Minister Li, who had been repeatedly impeached these days, took great satisfaction. He had known his son was bold yet meticulous—if he dared to undertake the survey of hidden farmland, he must have been prepared. Such a crude, foolhardy method as wiping out a family was beneath him.

Though, come to think of it, the Liu family supposedly had a concubine in the Prince of Jin’s household...

Recalling Vice Minister Ming’s subtle hint yesterday—that while waiting for the emperor’s summons, he had seen the Prince of Jin rush into the palace, leave shortly after, seemingly in anger—Minister Li gave a light snort.

Speaking of which, wasn’t Vice Minister Ming’s younger daughter remarried to Crown Prince Pei?

After leaving the office, he had his carriage take him to the main street, bought two pounds of sauce beef, then detoured near Duke of Dingguo’s residence. Minister Li stepped out and strolled over, handing the package to the gatekeeper who came to greet him: “This is a thank-you gift for your household’s Crown Prince. Please deliver it for me.”

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked off.

The gatekeeper, noting his official attire, treated him with caution, not daring to slight him despite his shabby clothes and the old horse-drawn carriage waiting nearby. Upon receiving the two pounds of sauce beef, he froze—was this really all the gratitude their Crown Prince warranted?

Leaving aside the value, shouldn’t a token of thanks at least consist of two items? A single offering seemed far too meager.

Then, eyeing the man’s attire, he convinced himself—perhaps this was the so-called “eccentric scholar’s ways”?

The gatekeeper didn’t understand, but he knew better than to slight the man. He promptly took the package to the steward, describing the visitor’s appearance and manner in detail.

Meanwhile, Pei Yue was in his study discussing the day’s events with his advisor, Duan Mulin.

As a retainer of the Pei family, Duan Mulin knew more inside information and worried that his employer had offended the Prince of Jin.

“If I concealed the truth just to avoid offending the Prince of Jin, how would I differ from the criminals?” Pei Yue said calmly. “Besides, His Majesty didn’t send only me.”

Duan Mulin was reassured and nodded.

Just then, a servant entered and relayed the incident at the gate. From the description, both men recognized Minister Li.

They had long heard of Minister Li’s eccentric behavior—this confirmed it.

Duan Mulin, who had once studied in a region where Minister Li served, understood his methods better. He mused, “Minister Li likely has another motive.”

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to visit.

Pei Yue lowered his gaze, thought for a moment. “We should have answers before the New Year.”

Master and advisor exchanged a glance, sharing the same suspicion. Stroking his beard, Duan Mulin smiled faintly, even seeing the sauce beef in a new light.

Pei Yue, however, checked the time and lost interest in lingering in the outer courtyard. He stood and gave a slight nod. “Mr. Duan, please stay as long as you like. I shall return to Cheng Yi Hall.”

Duan Mulin, about to bring up Duke of Dingguo, watched his departing figure: “...”

Well, the Crown Prince was married now—he couldn’t stay up all night discussing matters with them as he once did.