Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Luo Qianyu drew a soft breath.

It wasn't that the newcomer's appearance was abrupt, but rather that when she knelt beside him, she supported herself with both hands on the ground. Observing her posture, it didn't seem like a respectful bow to the emperor.

It was more like... she was imitating him.

Because she, while maintaining the kneeling position, turned her head to the side and studied him intently, as if he were some rare curiosity in the world. Her bright, sparkling eyes scanned every detail of his face without missing a beat, then blinked gently.

Luo Qianyu's Adam's apple bobbed, completely at a loss. The scene had a bizarre, absurd quality to it, and for a moment, he forgot to react.

And he recognized the owner of those eyes.

"Pr... Princess," the Young Marquis addressed the other hesitantly.

The Princess was draped in a crane-feather cloak, a peerlessly beautiful woman. Yet beneath the cloak, she wore only her inner robes and, shockingly, was barefoot. Her silk socks were stained with smudges of blood. The Young Marquis was momentarily stunned before quickly averting his gaze.

The Princess could be described as having disheveled hair and untidy attire, yet the eunuchs and palace attendants around seemed accustomed to it, not even lifting an eyelid in reaction.

Everyone inside and outside the palace walls knew that since the palace coup three years ago, the Princess had lost her mind and gone mad.

Once the late Emperor's most beloved youngest princess, a golden branch and jade leaf of utmost nobility, she was now disheveled, disgraced, and deranged. No one knew what exactly had happened within the palace depths, but once such gossip spread, it became like a wildfire, long turning into grist for the mill of common gossip.

Luo Qianyu naturally knew of this too.

However, this was the first time he had seen this now-mad Princess with his own eyes.

From the moment she entered, the Princess not only offered no formal greeting but even directly ignored the emperor, as if finding this kneeling posture quite amusing. Propping herself up on the floor with her elbows, she soon even laid her head on the floor, staring at the Young Marquis until beads of sweat formed at his temples. Then she suddenly spoke: "Are you the new imperial sister-in-law?"

Luo Qianyu's brow twitched, his palms nearly slipping, almost causing him to topple over.

Her very first sentence was so shocking, yet the Princess herself seemed utterly unaware. After speaking, she giggled "hee-hee." She raised her eyes to look at the top of the Young Marquis's head and continued asking: "It's snowing. Why haven't you put up an umbrella?"

Luo Qianyu was momentarily speechless, his mind blank except for: "?"

The moon was bright, the stars sparse—where was the snow coming from??

Besides, this was indoors!

He instinctively looked up, his gaze meeting the Emperor's. His eyes held a hint of a plea for help. Seeing that the other didn't speak but the corners of his lips curled into a faint, elusive smile, Luo Qianyu pressed his lips together, realizing this damned Emperor had no intention of saving the situation.

"Your Highness," the Young Marquis carefully chose his words before forcing himself to speak: "His Majesty has umbrellas here. This subject was momentarily negligent... forgot to bring one. It won't happen next time."

"Then why aren't you putting one up yet?" the Princess asked with a serious expression, urging: "Put it up."

Young Marquis: "..."

The Young Marquis closed his eyes and blurted nonsense: "No need. This subject likes the snow falling on my hair; it makes my hair look whiter."

The Princess seemed to ponder his words for a moment before slowly nodding: "What you say makes sense. Then I won't put one up either."

Luo Qianyu silently lowered his head, not exactly breathing a sigh of relief.

Although he had managed to muddle through, this conversation was truly bizarre, as if both of them had eaten magic mushrooms.

However, the Princess hadn't lost her curiosity about him. "Huh?" she uttered again, then said: "Your forehead is red, like it's been painted with rouge."

Then, she reached out with her fingertip, touched the Young Marquis's forehead, brought it to her own lips, tapped them lightly, and gently smudged it.

Luo Qianyu's entire body stiffened, his lips parting slightly, too astonished to speak.

The atmosphere in the hall grew distinctly odd for a moment.

After amusing herself, the Princess finally noticed the emperor seated on the dragon throne behind the desk, as well as the little eunuch beside him, who was too terrified to even breathe. Her gaze shifted between the two before she asked: "Why is Imperial Brother making you kneel? Did you two quarrel?"

Luo Qianyu: "...This subject wouldn't dare."

Yet the Princess's interest remained undiminished. She added: "Could it be that Imperial Brother was reviewing memorials late into the night, leaving Imperial Sister-in-law alone in an empty chamber?"

Luo Qianyu's palms trembled; he could no longer hold back: "...Your Highness!"

The Princess covered her face, letting out two muffled chuckles, as if the laughter in her chest couldn't be suppressed. Then, she pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, twirled it between her fingers, and actually began humming a theatrical tune in a playful voice: "Pitiful is that beauty~ alone guarding the empty curtain, her loneliness long—though the quilt is warm, no one lies beside, tossing and turning, thinking of her beloved."

"Longing for her lord to arrive~ her delicate form languidly leans against the ivory bed, silk skirt half undone, tears dampening her robes—the clouds and rain of Mount Wu, the candle burns to its end, tears stain the red makeup—"

Luo Qianyu was taken aback, quickly flushing red upon hearing this.

Even if he weren't from ancient times, he could understand—this was clearly laced with bawdy talk.

He turned his head aside, his lips unconsciously pressing together tightly. Though embarrassed and annoyed, he couldn't glare back, yet the heat burned up to the tips of his ears.

And Emperor Sheng Yuan, seated upon the dragon throne, lazily lifted his gaze, his eyes falling on the little marquis's thoroughly reddened earlobes, but he remained silent.

After singing that passage, the Princess, clearly not yet satisfied, began another.

Luo Qianyu had thought the previous passage was already risqué enough, but the next one directly refreshed his understanding of the bottom line. Words and phrases like "flower heart," "path," "break and top," "honey," and so on grew increasingly indecent to the ear.

By the end, even the nape of Luo Qianyu's neck was tinged with a faint red.

What kind of princess was this!?

Insane, yet spouting obscenities.

Finally, the emperor coldly uttered: "Que Yao."

That finally silenced the Princess.

Que Yao knelt for a while before growing tired. She didn't understand why this imperial sister-in-law before her could hold that position for so long. Didn't his knees hurt? So she rolled over, lying on her side on the floor. Lowering her lashes, she began playing with Luo Qianyu's hair, which had fallen onto the ground.

A moment later, her gaze shifted upward, focusing intently on something. The next moment, she suddenly reached out and pulled out the Young Marquis's jade hairpin that held his hair in place.

"...!"

Luo Qianyu's pupils constricted sharply.

As the hairpin was withdrawn, black tresses cascaded down like a waterfall, spilling over his collar, several strands falling against his snow-white neck, creating a stark contrast of black and white.

As a buy-stock gong (a type of male lead), the Young Marquis had few advantages, yet he was the youngest among the original book's gongs and universally acknowledged as possessing the strongest, uniquely youthful aura.

With his hair tied up, he was the spirited and dashing young gentleman. With it loose, the bright clarity of his features remained, yet he gained a touch of a beauty's countenance, like cold plum blossoms reflected in snow. And because his skin was fair, it made his lips appear naturally red without any rouge, enhancing his sense of aloof elegance.

The Princess placed the jade hairpin in her hand, played with it for just a while as if she quite liked it, then raised her hand and deftly inserted it diagonally into her own hairdo.

Luo Qianyu's lips subconsciously twitched slightly. He was about to stop her, but a thought crossed his mind. Before he could speak, he swallowed the words back down. A jade hairpin was a personal item; for a man, its importance was self-evident. Not to mention it being taken by a woman from the inner palace, even if it were accidentally lost, it would undoubtedly be searched for with great fanfare.

But right now, it was in front of His Majesty, with eunuchs and attendants as witnesses. Even if it was snatched away, so be it—it was just a hairpin. Besides, the Princess was not in her right mind.

If the emperor had a single decent bone in his body and cared about the bond between ruler and subject, he should have given him a hairpin or a hairband, so he wouldn't have to go back with his hair down.

Now that Que Yao had the jade hairpin, she quit pestering the Young Marquis. She bounced around the imperial study for a while, then picked up an inkstone, staining her fingertips with ink. She didn't seem to mind, muttering some gibberish before darting off.

Soon, the maids' startled cries echoed outside the hall.

Clearly, they hadn't been watching her closely enough, allowing the princess to charge straight into the emperor's presence unimpeded. Knowing they were in deep trouble, they turned pale with fright, hurried inside, and repeatedly kowtowed, begging forgiveness.

What a spectacle: the princess raising a ruckus in the imperial study. Just how unlucky did you have to be to walk in on that? The Young Marquis sighed inwardly, his heart wearier than his knees.

He'd expected Emperor Sheng Yuan to chew out the maids right in front of him, which would mean an even longer wait. Having endured countless trials, the Young Marquis was already numb. He lowered his gaze, resigned to waiting, when suddenly the emperor spoke:

“That's enough. If you've knelt your fill, you may go.”

Leaning back on the dragon throne, the emperor slightly lowered his eyes, his voice deep but clearer than before. He chuckled softly and said, “Attendants! Assist Young Marquis Luo down. We wouldn’t want tears to stain his rouge later, making it seem as though I bullied him.”

Luo Qianyu replied, “…Yes.”

Outwardly, he was respectful and restrained, but his face burned with embarrassment, and his hands trembled faintly with anger. Inwardly, he cursed the Dog Emperor, daring to tease him with lewd poetry—how about you take the bottom position instead?

Struggling to steady his emotions, he parted his lips and said, “Your servant takes his leave.”

With that, he slowly rose, supporting himself on his knees. The slight movement made the Young Marquis pale and dizzy.

The eunuchs hurried over to help him up. Luo Qianyu bit the tip of his tongue to steady himself. He barely maintained his balance, trying to conceal the stiffness from kneeling so long. His legs trembled as he bowed to the emperor before turning to leave.

Night had fully fallen.

The moonlight brightened, and the palace gates would likely be locked soon.

Once outside the hall, a gentle breeze brushed past, making him realize his inner robe was soaked through, his neck damp with cold sweat. The Dog Emperor truly had no decency—in the end, he still hadn't let his childhood friend and subject put his hair up, forcing him to step out into the night with it loose.

The young eunuch, seeing the young master who'd just been reprimanded by the emperor, finally understood that every step he had taken in the imperial study had been a struggle. Once outside the hall, his complexion changed entirely. His gait resembled that of a fawn learning to walk—manageable on flat ground, but as soon as he encountered a threshold, he could barely move, his legs trembling so violently he couldn’t even lift them.

“Let this servant help you, my lord…”

Seeing this, the eunuch supporting him quickly crouched down, about to kneel and roll up his trousers to check. Luo Qianyu’s expression shifted. He felt as if his dignity had been trampled all the way to the West Gate. He hurriedly stopped the eunuch: “Thank you for your kindness, but I can manage on my own.”

His tone was firm. The young eunuch withdrew his hand regretfully and stood up. “Then please take your time, my lord.”

The journey that had been smooth and unimpeded on the way in now felt like navigating eighty-one hardships on the way out, taking three times as long.

Still, at least the princess had appeared in time, allowing the matter of the personal guard to be glossed over. In a way, she could be considered his savior.

Speaking of the personal guard…

From a distance, Luo Qianyu spotted the carriage waiting at the palace gate, along with a tall, elegant figure standing beside it.

Just when he stepped out, he ran into a punching bag.

Spotting his young master from afar, the attendant was as frantic as an ant on a hot pan, pacing back and forth. As soon as he saw him, he rushed over, his face instantly drained of color. He exclaimed in alarm, “Young master, what happened!?”

“Why is your hair loose? Where is your hairpin? Why were you gone for so long? And why are you limping? Are you unwell, young master?”

The Young Marquis was irritated by the noise, his face darkening. “Don’t ask. Let’s return to the estate.”

Without even glancing at Wen Yu, he brushed past his personal guard and headed straight for the carriage. But then he paused abruptly, stopping before the carriage step, lost in thought.

…

Surely not—was he so weak in the legs that he couldn’t even mount the carriage?

Turning his head, he realized the helpful young eunuch had long since disappeared.

The Young Marquis gritted his teeth and spoke coldly: “Turn around and step back five paces. Do not look back until I give the order.”

The servant looked bewildered, completely at a loss, but obediently nodded. “Yes.”

Seeing that both of them complied, Luo Qianyu finally let out a breath. Gripping the edge of the carriage with one hand, his brow slightly furrowed, he tremblingly lifted his leg.

…

A quarter of an hour later.

The servant dared not turn around, but it had been quite some time, and he couldn’t help but feel puzzled. Moreover, the sounds behind him were faint, and he had no idea what the young master was doing.

Wen Yu remained silent, lifting the hilt of his sword and securing it at his waist. The Jade Spirit Sword slid partially out of its sheath, its cold blade reflecting the figure behind him.

The graceful figure paused for a moment, and the Jade Spirit Sword slowly slid back into its sheath.

Beads of sweat formed on Luo Qianyu’s temples. He had just managed to place one foot on the wooden step when suddenly he felt his body lighten, followed by a sense of weightlessness. He gritted his teeth and said tremulously, “…Wen Yu!”

But the arm around his waist didn’t loosen; instead, it seemed to take root, lifting him entirely onto the carriage step. His loose hair brushed against the curtain, and a faint fragrance drifted to his nose. Luo Qianyu seethed with anger. “Who told you to come? Get out!”

Yet the protagonist shou acted as if he hadn’t heard, unmoved.

Seeing no way to free himself, Luo Qianyu grew both furious and anxious, a faint redness tingeing the corners of his eyes.

His hands trembling, he wrapped his arms around the other’s neck, leaned forward, and bit down hard on the pale neck.