Chapter 94

Chapter 94

True to her word, Mrs. Pei donned riding attire the next day, casually chose a horse, and galloped several laps around the training field with Ming Tang.

Though advanced in years, Mrs. Pei had always been robust. Her effortless mounting left the younger children wide-eyed, and as she and Ming Tang raced across the field, they watched, mesmerized. The attending maids and guards could barely suppress their giggles at the chorus of "wows" that erupted around them.

The only one suffering was Pei Sheng. After exchanging old stories with Mrs. Pei, he returned to teaching the children how to exert force while riding, maintain proper posture, and communicate with their horses. No matter how detailed, earnest, or humorous his instructions, he couldn’t shake the feeling that their minds were wandering. It wasn’t until he promised to have someone take each of them for a ride later that the lesson finally progressed smoothly.

Compared to the city, Jademount was significantly cooler, with frequent mountain breezes and towering trees that dispelled the stifling summer heat. Naturally, outdoor activities lasted longer here.

Pei Ze, who had been somewhat shy the previous year, had grown increasingly lively from daily interactions with children his own age. With elders who never stifled his nature and tutors—one scholarly, one martial—who were far from rigid, he now led Pei Yang and the others in running around the grounds like wild things after finishing their studies. They either caught cicadas in the groves or played with Zhao Ye and her foal, Da Mao, at the training field.

As the sole offspring of Zhao Ye and Ta Xue, Da Mao was exceptionally robust and remarkably intelligent from birth. Recognizing Pei Ze as her future master, she grew very attached to him. Shortly after her eyesight developed, she learned to spot Pei Ze first in a crowd, trotting over to nuzzle against his head affectionately.

Even the little horse and Da Mao got along splendidly.

The first meeting between the two—named after each other’s species—became a story recounted with delight by onlookers for half a month. Who could have predicted such an unlikely bond between a foal and a little black cat?

It also became a standing joke about the young master’s naming skills—calling a little black cat "Little Horse" and a foal "Big Cat," yet somehow never mixing them up.

The real struggle fell on those unfamiliar with the young master and his pets, who took quite some time to memorize which name referred to whom.

Life at the mountain estate had made both Ming Tang and Mrs. Pei far more relaxed than in the city. With fewer responsibilities and a more pleasant climate, Mrs. Pei seemed to rediscover the joys of her youth—galloping on horseback or fishing by the stream, fully embracing a holiday mood.

Naturally, Ming Tang, ever the master of leisure, was even more at ease.

The entire Pei estate followed suit, maintaining their leisurely pace even as activity gradually buzzed across Jademount.

The Emperor’s procession was no simple matter that could be arranged overnight. Between inspecting the mountain palace and sending the Imperial Guard ahead to clear the way, over half a month passed before His Majesty arrived at Jademount with several consorts.

By then, nearly all families with estates on the mountain had settled in. As the saying goes, "The early bird gets the worm." The Empress, who frequently summoned noblewomen in the capital, naturally prioritized those nearby when holding audiences at the mountain palace.

Moreover, the aristocratic families were dying to know about the palace’s current state.

By now, everyone knew the Prince of Yan had earned His Majesty’s praise—"decisive, a man of action"—for his job well done.

Meanwhile, the Prince of Chu had worked his tail off at the Ministry of Revenue, overseeing disaster relief with meticulous care, yet received only a lukewarm "passable" from the Emperor, who ignored all courtly praises for the prince. How could the Prince of Yan, who merely managed some renovations, earn such acclaim?

Truthfully, after learning how much the Prince of Yan’s Ministry of Works had spent on refurbishing the palace, even Ming Tang was intrigued. Based on Mrs. Pei’s descriptions of the palace’s original state, the allocated funds would have been a drop in the bucket for full restoration. Yet since it passed imperial inspection, the Prince of Yan must have achieved remarkable results with limited resources.

Perhaps sensing public curiosity, the Empress summoned several noblewomen residing on Jademount the day after the imperial arrival, specifically requesting Pei Ze’s attendance when the summons reached the Pei estate.

About to meet royalty, Pei Ze showed no nerves. Unlike his usual exuberance at skipping lessons, he was unusually down: "When can we go home? Instructor Pei said he’d teach us to braid Zhao Ye’s mane and tail today!"

"No worries, we’ll be back by noon—you won’t miss the fun. If Zhao Ye’s braids are done, there are plenty of other horses at home to practice on," Ming Tang reassured him, lowkey excited to join the activity herself. A real horsehair braid—even just watching—sounded delightful.

Mrs. Pei merely smiled. Upon arriving at the mountain palace, they followed palace attendants along pebbled paths, winding past flowering trees toward the Empress’s quarters.

Unlike the grand symmetry of the imperial palace, the mountain retreat embraced the delicate artistry of Jiangnan gardens. As Mrs. Pei walked, memories of the past resurfaced. A glance around revealed why the Prince of Yan had earned imperial praise.

The architectural layout remained unchanged, but the once-ubiquitous intricate adornments had been replaced by uniform vermilion lacquer. The entire palace now exuded a clean, simple look—less ornate than before, yet harmonizing majestically with the verdant landscape.

As seasoned household managers, both Mrs. Pei and Ming Tang had initially assumed restoration meant replicating the original. Seeing this transformation, they had the same realization, exchanging a knowing smile.

The Empress maintained her usual demeanor, receiving everyone in the main hall of her residence. However, perhaps due to being in the detached palace, her attire was simpler than usual, with only a pearl hairpin adorning her hair, making her appear less solemn and even a few years younger than before.

Upon seeing Mrs. Pei, the Empress warmly greeted her and invited her to sit beside her. After exchanging a few words, she beckoned Pei Ze over with a smile and remarked, "Little A Ze looks a little darker than before and livelier too compared to the last time I saw him."

Pei Ze still had some impression of the Empress and knew she was someone even his elders treated with respect. He stood naturally before her, tilting his head up to listen. When she mentioned his tan, he instinctively touched his face and glanced at his family, puzzled—no one had ever said he looked darker.

"Since coming to the villa, he’s been running around every day with the other children from the clan. No wonder he’s gotten darker," Mrs. Pei admitted, though she hadn’t noticed until now. Upon closer inspection, she realized he wasn’t as fair as before. "But for a child, running around and soaking up the sun is better than staying cooped up indoors all day."

The Empress nodded, gently stroked Pei Ze’s bangs, praised him a few more words, and then sent him back before turning to converse with the other noblewomen.

Those summoned at this time were either from long-established aristocratic families or high-ranking officials. The Empress, ever the dignified royal matriarch, greeted each one graciously, mostly inquiring about their families. When speaking with a Lady Mu from Princess Consort of Yan’s maternal clan, she showed genuine warmth: "Your family has always upheld fine traditions, and I’ve been fortunate to gain such a good daughter-in-law."

She then displayed the outer robe she was wearing to the group. "Despite managing the affairs of Yan Palace daily, she still finds time to sew for me. A stable home lets a man focus on his duties—her steadiness has contributed greatly to my third son’s success in his duties."

Lady Mu’s husband held no high-ranking position, and her presence at the villa was arranged by her clan, as it was customary for prominent families to have representatives there. Though she had anticipated the summons, she was still overwhelmed when the Empress called for her on the very first day.

Unaccustomed to palace visits, she rose hastily despite her prior mental preparation. "Your Majesty’s praise is too generous. Our clan simply teaches its daughters to be dutiful and honest. The Princess Consort of Yan is naturally gifted, blessed with the fortune to serve you."

The Empress nodded. "Duty and honesty are rare qualities—that is already commendable." She then turned to Mrs. Ji, Princess Consort of Chu’s mother, and said kindly, "My second daughter-in-law is with child, and Consort Shu chose to remain in the capital to care for her. If there’s any news, I’ll send word to your residence—no need to worry."

Mrs. Ji bowed repeatedly. "Thank you for your concern, Your Majesty." She breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

Palace news was hard to come by, and the Empress’ summons had been early. Only now did she learn that Consort Shu hadn’t accompanied the imperial party. Though her daughter would have plenty of help during childbirth, having an elder oversee matters was reassuring. As Prince of Chu’s birth mother, Consort Shu’s presence in the capital was ideal.

The Empress inquired after each princess consort’s family, but with Prince of Yan in the spotlight and Princess Consort of Chu pregnant, the other two appeared rather unremarkable by comparison—a sight that inevitably stirred fresh gossip among the guests.

The audience was small, and by the time they took their leave, the morning sun had yet to grow warm. Walking along the palace paths, they enjoyed the mountain’s lingering coolness.

Pei Ze, gripping Ming Tang’s hand, took advantage of his youth to gaze around eagerly. He kept turning to hurry Mrs. Pei along, and upon spotting their carriage, he let go and dashed ahead, climbing aboard before pausing when he noticed Mrs. Pei and Ming Tang conversing with an unfamiliar lady. He quieted down and waited.

The one who called out to Mrs. Pei was none other than Lady Mu from Princess Consort of Yan's maternal family. Perhaps aware that Mrs. Pei was not familiar with her, she first introduced herself in detail before lowering her voice somewhat sheepishly: "During the Lantern Festival, thanks to the kindness of your daughter-in-law and young master, our A Qing was rescued in time. I haven’t had the chance to thank you in person." With that, she bowed deeply once more in gratitude, then added, "Forgive me for stopping you, but Princess Consort of Yan entrusted me to deliver a personal letter to you... concerning our little A Qing."

Perhaps aware of how abrupt this was to stop someone just to deliver a letter, Lady Mu turned red as she spoke. Turning to her maid, she retrieved an envelope and handed it to Mrs. Pei with both hands, continuing, "I should have visited your residence in person, but knowing you would surely be summoned by Her Majesty today, I thought this would be a good opportunity. I brought the letter with me when I left home—please forgive my presumption."

Mrs. Pei remained unflappable as she accepted the letter, showing no surprise at the sudden correspondence from Princess Consort of Yan. She merely nodded and said, "Thank you."

In no time, they had returned to the Pei family’s villa. Pei Ze, unable to wait any longer, immediately tugged at Ming Tang and Mrs. Pei to excuse himself before heading straight for the training grounds.

Upon seeing the lively scene there, even his usual composure faltered. He dashed toward the gathered crowd and spotted Pei Sheng instructing a group of children as they braided the mane of a chestnut horse. Zhao Ye and Da Mao stood nearby watching—clearly, it wasn’t their turn yet—which eased his mind.

Pei Yang was carefully combing through the long tail hairs of the horse, taking great care not to cause any discomfort. Halfway through, his arms began to ache, so when he saw Pei Ze return, he quickly stepped aside: "A Ze, you take over!"

With that, he stepped aside, handing the comb to Pei Ze and shaking out his sore arms.

Pei Ze, eager, took the comb and climbed onto a small stool, ready to begin. But Da Mao, who had been observing, leisurely approached him, her big dark eyes locked onto him. She opened her mouth, gently tugging at the sleeve of his robe to pull him aside.

Pei Sheng, startled, grabbed the back of Pei Ze’s clothes, fearing the young horse might unintentionally yank him off balance. When he saw Pei Ze standing steady, he shifted his grip to support his waist instead. To his surprise, Da Mao stopped pulling and simply stared at Pei Ze.

Pei Ze glanced at Da Mao, then at Zhao Ye not far away, piecing together her intent. Raising the comb again as if to resume grooming, Da Mao tugged once more—this time with slightly more force.

Pei Ze understood, and he cried out happily, "Da Mao, you’re so clever!"

Jumping down from the stool, he followed Da Mao to Zhao Ye’s side. Running his fingers through the mare’s long tail hairs, he noticed Da Mao immediately released his sleeve and stood quietly beside her mother.

The onlookers watched with fascination, equally amazed by the young horse’s intelligence. In the end, they could only attribute it to Pei Ze’s frequent visits to read aloud to Zhao Ye while Da Mao was still in her womb.

Truly, education matters—even a foal who listens to books often grows this clever.

Zhao Ye was already an exceptionally beautiful white horse, and after being meticulously groomed the day before, her coat now shone like silk in the sun, glowing. When Pei Ze took his place behind her, she stood perfectly still, her long tail hairs swaying gently in the breeze. A few strands occasionally brushed against Pei Ze’s face, making him laugh.

With no replacement available, Pei Yang had no choice but to return to his task, slowly grooming the brown horse while occasionally turning his head to chat with Pei Ze.

Pei Ze, however, was brimming with energy, lavishing meticulous care on Zhao Ye under Pei Sheng's guidance as he worked on her long tail. Unfortunately, the sheer thickness of the hair made it difficult for his small hands to even grasp a full section. In the end, he had no choice but to seek help from Ming Tang, who had been watching nearby.

Ming Tang had been itching to join in after observing for a while and immediately stepped forward. Together, the two of them braided half of Zhao Ye’s silvery-white tail and trimmed the loose ends below before moving on to her mane.

Using Zhao Ye as a reference, Ming Tang finally understood why horse manes were often used to make wigs. If the wearer’s natural hair was even slightly inferior in quality, the wig would undoubtedly outshine it.

Being small, however, made braiding the mane particularly challenging. After struggling halfway through, Pei Ze finally decided to give up and, along with his friends, handed the task over to the experts, watching as the once loose and wild mane gradually transformed into an intricate braid.

The person braiding Zhao Ye’s mane had deliberately chosen silver ribbons, weaving them into her hair so they shimmered brilliantly, making her look even more majestic—truly living up to her name, capable of illuminating the night.

Clearly pleased with the meticulous grooming, Zhao Ye lowered her head to nuzzle Pei Ze’s cheek again and again before enthusiastically interacting with the guards and maids nearby, filling the training ground with waves of laughter.

The left-out Da Mao, however, grew displeased again. She circled her mother two or three times before trotting over to Pei Ze, lowering her head and swaying it back and forth to show off her flowing mane.

By now, Pei Ze was becoming increasingly adept at understanding Da Mao’s intentions. Stroking her mane, he noted that her hair volume was quite unlike her mother’s and whispered reassuringly, "You’re still too young—too young for a proper braid. How about some tiny ponytails instead?"

Only then did Ming Tang realize that, in Pei Ze’s eyes, braiding a horse’s mane was akin to the coming-of-age ceremony of a grown man. Watching as Pei Ze divided Da Mao’s mane into sections and carefully bound them with red thread—exactly how the maids styled his own hair—she found it hilarious. That afternoon, she went back and painted a picture.

The painting depicted a boy and a small horse, both with their hair tied up in red ribbons. Though not particularly lifelike, their expressions bore an uncanny resemblance to Pei Ze and Da Mao, making the artist’s intent unmistakable. She had chuckled the entire time she painted it, and when she showed it to Mrs. Pei afterward, the older woman also laughed endlessly, finding Ming Tang playfully wicked and Pei Ze utterly endearing.

Once the laughter subsided, Mrs. Pei rolled up the painting, her gaze briefly lingering on the seal in the bottom left corner before handing it back to Ming Tang. "When we return to the capital, have it properly mounted by a skilled craftsman. We’ll show it to A Ze when he’s older."

Ming Tang nodded. Though not a high-definition video recording of an embarrassing moment, if preserved well, this painting could last for decades—if not centuries—lasting longer than a video ever could.

After putting the painting away, Mrs. Pei paused for a moment before adding, "Do you still remember that child from the Lantern Festival?"

Ming Tang nodded, about to ask a question when a sudden realization struck her. Recalling the letter from that morning, she ventured, "Did Princess Consort of Yan ask us to look after him?"

"Exactly." Mrs. Pei sounded uncertain, her tone tinged with frustration. "The Princess Consort of Yan explained in her letter that her father is stationed far at the border and hasn’t remarried. With the clan being large and complicated, she can’t take Mu Qing with her to raise. Hearing that we’ve hired tutors for A Ze and a few other children from the clan, she thought—given A Ze and Mu Qing’s connection—to request sending Mu Qing to stay with us for a while. She offered to cover all the tutors’ fees and expenses."

Ming Tang had never imagined that their small tutoring group, originally set up just to find playmates for A Ze, would have an opportunity to expand. But this wasn’t a matter of casually adding another child. Since Mrs. Pei hadn’t made up her mind, she must still be conflicted. After all, it was just a matter of children interacting. Ming Tang wanted to reassure Mrs. Pei not to worry too much, but she also feared she might be being too naive. For a moment, she fell silent as well.

When Pei Yue returned, this was the scene he walked into, and he couldn’t help but feel surprised. "Mother and Ming Tang sitting in silence? What’s troubling you, Mother? Did something happen during the palace summons today?"

"It’s about a child—Mu Qing. You might remember him. Princess Consort of Yan sent a letter today, asking if we could take him in to study with A Ze for a while. Logically, it’s just one more student, and A Ze already knows him—they get along well. But given his background, Mother is hesitant."

Pei Yue instantly remembered his dealings with Prince of Yan and pondered the prince’s usual conduct. After a moment’s thought, he made his decision. "If it’s just a child, it’s fine to take him in. A Ze is around his age, and after what happened during the Lantern Festival, it’s only natural they’d have some interaction."

Seeing the concern in Mrs. Pei’s eyes, Pei Yue smiled reassuringly. "Mother, there’s no need to worry so much. The Pei family has stood firm for a hundred years. If we start second-guessing even children’s friendships, we’ll lose our edge sooner or later."

Mrs. Pei was silent for a moment before sighing. "You’re right. I’ve been overthinking things."

"I know. After what happened with Eldest Brother, you’ve become more cautious, always fearing the unexpected. That’s not overthinking—it’s just being prudent."

Once Mrs. Pei made up her mind, she acted swiftly. The very next day, she sent a reply to the Mu family and even prepared a room—coincidentally, there happened to be an empty one in the courtyard where the children stayed. It seemed fate really had a hand in this.

Mu Qing clearly remembered Pei Ze. After being led into the Pei residence and greeting the elders, he immediately ran over to Pei Ze. "Little Brother A Ze!"

Pei Ze also remembered this child, whom he and his aunt had heroically rescued during the New Year celebrations. But between Mu Qing nearly being kidnapped and now being sent to live with them because his own family couldn’t care for him, Pei Ze saw Mu Qing as a poor little orphan—unloved by his parents. Even though Mu Qing was clearly older, Pei Ze couldn’t help but feel protective.

After paying respects to the elders, Pei Ze took Mu Qing’s hand and led him straight to their lessons, eager to reassure him about the day’s activities. "This morning, we’ll be learning horseback riding with Master Pei Sheng. Have you ridden before, A Qing?"

Mu Qing looked shocked. "In our family, children don’t start riding until they’re ten. My eleventh brother just started this year."

Pei Ze blinked, then recalled that Mu Qing was the seventeenth in his family’s line. He bit back his curiosity with great effort, only growing more sympathetic in his heart. With so many siblings and still having to study at someone else’s home—poor Mu Qing.

After a moment’s thought, he explained, "Grandmother says Master Pei Sheng is a retainer of our family. He once taught my father and even followed him into battle. After retiring, he came back to live out his years in peace. He’s very kind and tells great stories. There are three others in our class—one is my nephew, Pei Yang. He should call me ‘Uncle,’ but that feels odd, so we just use names. The other two are my cousins..."

Spotting the scene on the training ground in the distance, Pei Ze finally stopped talking and eagerly pulled Mu Qing along. The maid trailing them sighed in relief—today, the young master was uncharacteristically chatty. Almost as noisy as the parrots Madam kept in Jinghua Hall.

Muttering a silent apology in her heart, she watched as Pei Ze led Mu Qing over and introduced him to Pei Sheng and the others.

As a newcomer, Mu Qing was around the same age as the others and naturally good-natured. After the Lantern Festival incident, he had grown even more composed, naturally acting like an older brother—especially toward Pei Ze, who had become increasingly lively and talkative. Since Pei Ze was younger, Mu Qing couldn’t help but see him as a little brother.

Moreover, the Mu family frequently sent people to visit Mu Qing, always bringing little trinkets that children would love. With all these factors combined, Mu Qing quickly integrated into the group, and their camaraderie only grew stronger.

Before long, it was already July when news arrived that Princess Consort of Chu had given birth to a son, with both mother and child doing well. As this was Prince of Chu’s firstborn son, the Emperor and Empress were overjoyed, bestowing gifts lavishly and summoning Prince of Chu to court more often than ever.

With the imperial family showing such favor, the gossip about the prince’s unlucky birth month quickly vanished. Instead, people began deliberating over what gifts to send in celebration.

Some, however, paid no heed to superstitions, focusing solely on one fact: Prince of Chu now had an heir. Previously, when compared to Prince of Jin, Prince of Chu’s lack of children had been an undeniable disadvantage. But now that Princess Consort of Chu had borne him a son, the two princes stood on equal footing once more.

For a time, even the tranquil Jade Singing Mountain was touched by worldly affairs, with messengers frequently traveling back and forth between the capital and the mountain.

The Pei household, however, remained as peaceful as ever. With Pei Yue on leave, the entire family—from Mrs. Pei down to the children—even held a playful race on the training grounds.

Pei Yue was the only one struggling, who had never participated in a competition where the goal wasn’t speed but slowness. Even Ta Xue grew restless—the moment they stepped onto the field, the horse itched to bolt, only to be reined in by Pei Yue’s constant commands to slow down.

Struggling to keep Ta Xue at a slow amble, Pei Yue finally breathed a sigh of relief when Pei Ze and the others crossed the finish line. "This kind of race is harder than the autumn hunt’s grand competition. You Niang must have a mischievous streak to come up with such an idea."

Ming Tang burst out laughing. "Well? Care for a rematch, Yue?"

Pei Yue shot her a look. "Then I’ll just concede defeat now."

Pei Ze and the others, however, were thrilled. Though they had technically lost, they had still crossed the finish line before the adults, counting it as a win anyway. That night, they clustered together, buzzing with excitement until the maids finally shooed them off to bed.

While the children slept early, the adults each had their own matters to attend to.

It was the beginning of the month, and the crescent moon curved like a sickle in the sky, while stars sparkled like scattered diamonds across the night. The mountain setting made it seem as though one could almost reach out and pluck them from the heavens.

By the time Ming Tang and Pei Yue finished bathing, the night was deep, yet neither felt sleepy. Seeing the brilliant stars outside, Ming Tang was inspired to invite him to the courtyard to enjoy the cool breeze and chat.

Wen He and the others had already retired for the night. A gentle night wind rustled the leaves, and the occasional chirp of an unknown insect only added to the serene atmosphere. Sitting side by side, Ming Tang picked up a comb and started working through Pei Yue’s hair once it had dried. As they chatted, her hands moved unconsciously until she realized she had twisted small braids at his temples.

Ugh... Zhao Ye’s to blame for this, making her develop muscle memory for braiding.

Pei Yue seemed oblivious, and Ming Tang decided not to undo them, continuing to listen as he explained how to identify different constellations.

Pei Yue dismissed the Imperial Astronomers’ star readings, but as a military man, he had learned to navigate by the stars during campaigns. Unfortunately, he hadn’t had many opportunities to practice, so sharing this knowledge with Ming Tang was a way to put his learning to use.

Their conversation stretched late into the night, and after the day’s earlier exertions, it was no surprise that Ming Tang slept in the next day, skipping breakfast altogether. Pei Yue, however, had risen early and left for the summer palace.

The summer palace was far less rigid than the imperial city, and even the Emperor seemed more relaxed here. After meeting with a few ministers and listening to some gossip, he took a sudden notion to take a stroll in the mountains, summoning Pei Yue to accompany him.

Dressed in a black martial outfit with his hair neatly tied under a crown, Pei Yue looked his usual self. When the Emperor motioned for him to rise from his bow, he straightened and stood behind him, about to speak when he noticed the Emperor’s gaze lingering on his hair. He tensed for a moment—until the Emperor asked, "I hear your little A Ze has begun his studies?"

Pei Yue’s face softened at Pei Ze’s name. "Not formally, Your Majesty. As you know, our family has always emphasized martial skills. We just want him literate enough to read and write clearly. But my wife’s family is scholarly—they start proper tutelage at three or four. To balance the two, my father-in-law found a tutor to introduce A Ze to the world of books."

"Books shape the mind. Early exposure is always beneficial." The Emperor nodded. "I suppose your Pei clansmen think the same, sending their children to study with him."

Pei Yue’s tone remained light. "Your Majesty knows our direct line is thin—A Ze is the only one. He gets lonely, and he wasn’t very lively before. We brought in other children mainly so he’d have friends. Even the tutor was chosen for his cheerful temperament, so as not to stifle A Ze. To be honest, during the Lantern Festival, we happened to rescue a child—he and A Ze clicked. At first, he was very reserved, but now he’s getting into mischief with A Ze daily."

The Emperor considered this thoughtfully, musing. "The Empress has always admired your mother, believing that with her guidance, the Pei family would produce exceptional men for three generations. You’ve proved her right. Now, we’ll see if your nephew lives up to her words in another ten years."

Pei Yue naturally responded with modest replies before accompanying the Emperor on his mountain stroll. When word came that the Minister of Revenue requested an audience, he excused himself.

He was tall and slender, his dark attire strikingly conspicuous amidst the sea of greenery. The emperor stood still, watching him slowly walk away, lost in thought.

Beside him, Wang Shen observed the emperor's expression and suddenly chuckled, "I usually only see the Jade Lad of the Pei family as steady and composed, forgetting he's still a young man—into looking sharp and playing with these little flourishes."

The emperor smiled faintly as well. "Didn’t you hear how every third word he spoke just now was about his wife? It’s likely not him who loves to be dashing, but his wife who does."

Wang Shen bowed slightly, his tone tinged with envy. "Ah, the joys of married life. I don’t understand such things, but I do envy Crown Prince Pei for having the leisure and mood to fuss over his hair. He must have it easy at home, with everything taken care of."

The emperor glanced down at him. "If you wish to take a break and live a carefree life, it wouldn’t be difficult."

Wang Shen immediately begged off, swearing his loyalty, then followed behind the emperor as the master and servant strolled leisurely back to the study.

The Minister of Revenue was getting on in years. Given his high rank and authority, he refused to appear aged or frail, always dyeing his beard and hair jet-black, neatly tying them up, and standing straight to look lively and much younger.

As the emperor listened to him speak, his neatly groomed beard swayed slightly before his eyes, yet the emperor couldn’t help but recall the two small, dark braids at Pei Yue’s temples. He nearly laughed again: with so many matters arising one after another these days, Pei Yue still found the leisure to bother with such small things. He seemed steady, but it turned out he was just like his elder brother Pei Jun—doing as he pleased without a care.

Ah, well. It was merely a matter of children’s interactions—not worth overthinking.