After that day, things were temporarily calm.
Pei Zhiyu heeded Jiang Sui’s words and did not actually do anything to Zhao Yuling, yet he could not simply remain indifferent either.
Zhao Yuling was currently favored by the Emperor, and the people around her inevitably took advantage of that to throw their weight around, leaving behind some incriminating traces. Pei Zhiyu seized upon one such fault and made things deliberately difficult for her.
When the Imperial City Agency handled matters, only the Old Emperor could intervene. And since the Old Emperor saw that the matter was not serious, he turned a blind eye, offering only a brief reminder without asking further.
Though he no longer managed affairs as he once did, he was not entirely oblivious. Why Pei Zhiyu had suddenly set his sights on his youngest daughter—he understood that clearly enough.
It was fine, too. This would shatter his youngest daughter’s illusions and prevent further trouble.
Zhao Yuling was furious—not so much because she valued the arrested man, but because she felt provoked.
She instinctively knew that Jiang Sui must have gone back and complained, and the thought kindled her anger as she pondered how to repay the slight.
These undercurrents of tension, deliberately concealed by Pei Zhiyu, never reached Jiang Sui’s ears.
That day at the residence, the sunlight was just right, and Pei Zhiyu happened to have the day off. He accompanied Jiang Sui to the greenhouse to pick out flower branches together.
He stood half a step behind her, watching her focused expression without missing a single detail, occasionally offering gentle suggestions.
Seen from behind, Jiang Sui’s petite figure seemed almost entirely enveloped within Pei Zhiyu’s tall embrace.
Pei Zhiyu was clearly aware of this as well. Using the pretext of fetching flowers for her, he quietly moved a step closer, his warm chest nearly brushing against the back of her head.
He lowered his head slightly, breathing in the fragrance wafting from her hair.
Birdsong came faintly, and dappled shadows swayed among the branches and leaves. Pei Zhiyu gazed quietly at his young wife in his arms, a warmth flowing through his heart.
If he could stay in this moment forever, it seemed it wouldn’t be so bad after all.
But peaceful, tranquil moments were always easily broken.
Deliberately loud footsteps sounded from outside the greenhouse, and Jiang Sui instinctively turned to look. She saw that the newcomer was Pei Zhiyu’s personal attendant, Qingzhu.
She said softly, “Husband, it seems Qingzhu has something to see you about.”
Only then did Pei Zhiyu glance sideways at him, but he quickly looked back at her, his voice gentle:
“It’s nothing. Continue, my lady.”
“Qingzhu, come in and speak.”
Qingzhu hesitated for a moment, then looked up and saw Pei Zhiyu’s gaze turn cold. He hurried inside and reported:
“Reporting to the Young Prince, Prince Jin has arrived.”
Prince Jin, Zhao Yi, was the Emperor’s fourth son. He had a mild, easygoing temperament, his mother was unassuming in the palace, his maternal family was unremarkable, and being in the middle of the birth order, he was the most inconspicuous among the Old Emperor’s sons.
Yet he happened to have been on good terms with the currently prominent Pei Zhiyu for several years, and their friendship was no less deep than that with Xiao Heng.
Jiang Sui blinked upon hearing this and said softly:
“Then you should go quickly, Husband. I’m almost done picking as well.”
Pei Zhiyu hummed lowly in acknowledgment, and as he did so, he tucked the loose strands of hair falling at her temple behind her ear. His fingertips brushed lightly against her earlobe, watching that small patch of fair skin flush a faint pink.
He felt reluctant to leave, but showed nothing on his face:
“Then I’ll be off. If anything comes up, just have Chenbi come find me.”
Jiang Sui tilted her face up and smiled at him. “Alright.”
Pei Zhiyu suppressed the urge to pinch her cheek, then left the greenhouse with Qingzhu.
“Why has Your Highness come calling today? Has something happened in the palace?”
Zhao Yi rose upon hearing the voice, nodded to Pei Zhiyu as he entered, and smiled:
“No, nothing. I just haven’t seen Huaishu in a while, so I came over for a chat.”
Pei Zhiyu sat down across from him. He didn’t quite believe that explanation, but he didn’t call it out either. He poured a cup of tea and pushed it over:
“The other princes have been making frequent moves. Your Highness needs to be more careful. Coming over like this today—aren’t you afraid someone will impeach you tomorrow?”
Zhao Yi maintained his good-natured smile, unbothered by the slight overstepping in Pei Zhiyu’s words, and even went along with the remark to poke fun at himself:
“I’m not afraid of that. Huaishu, you’re muddled. If you think about it carefully, when have my brothers ever paid me any mind?”
Pei Zhiyu’s long lashes lifted slightly, his tone meaningful:
“Perhaps being overlooked… is actually the greatest advantage. What do you think, Your Highness?”
Zhao Yi’s expression remained unchanged, even adding a hint of helplessness:
“…Huaishu, you’re saying such things again. Don’t put me on a pedestal.”
“Alright, I did come today for something, indeed.”
He took a sip of tea, set the cup back down, and tapped his fingertips lightly against the table as he carefully explained the purpose of his visit.
Because Prince Jin’s good temper was well known, even Zhao Yuling, who had just returned to the capital, soon heard of it. Upon learning that her fourth imperial brother was on good terms with Pei Zhiyu, she sought out Prince Jin and asked him to put in a good word—to have the man Pei Zhiyu had arrested released, and to say a few favorable things on her behalf as well.
Good-tempered as Prince Jin was, despite not being familiar with this imperial sister at all, he still couldn’t withstand her repeated pleas and pestering, and agreed to the matter.
After finishing his explanation, Zhao Yi looked at the man across from him with a hint of inquiry.
Pei Zhiyu’s expression was indifferent, but inwardly he was deeply displeased.
The princess… why is it this princess again?
First she made Suisui feel wronged, and now she’s disturbing his time with Suisui… tsk.
Seeing his silence, Zhao Yi paused for a moment, then added:
“Huaishu, in my view, it might be better to give her a lighter punishment. After all, Father is indulging her right now, and we shouldn’t make things too ugly. What do you think?”
“I know what I’m doing, Your Highness. No need to persuade me.”
Pei Zhiyu curled his lips and offered him a gentle smile. But Zhao Yi, looking at him, was not reassured.
Could he really… have a sense of proportion?
Having known him for so long, Zhao Yi had inevitably noticed something amiss.
He merely had a good temper, but he was not foolish. Moreover, as a member of the imperial family, he naturally knew more about the affairs of the Marquis’s household than Xiao Heng did, which made him feel that there was something strange and incongruous about Pei Zhiyu.
The death of the late Marchioness and Marquis Anping’s indifference—how could they have had no effect at all?
Pei Zhiyu now seemed like he was wearing a skin that did not fit him.
Besides… could a truly gentle and refined man really be qualified to serve as the Commander of the Imperial City Agency?
There were many doubts, but Zhao Yi only pondered them occasionally, choosing to play the fool most of the time.
Being on good terms with Pei Zhiyu was not disadvantageous to him. Moreover, their years of friendship were not false.
He could only remind him tactfully:
“Very well… but Huaishu, you should still be more careful. Father values you all, that’s true, but imperial favor is unpredictable.”
Pei Zhiyu nodded and did not continue the conversation.
Zhao Yi was silent for a moment. Seeing that he truly had no intention of continuing idle chat, he thought it over briefly, roughly understood the situation, and couldn’t help but laugh:
“Huaishu, I’ve delivered my message. I’ll take my leave now.”
Only then did Pei Zhiyu respond, rising to his feet and saying:
“I’ll see Your Highness out.”
Zhao Yi looked at him—perfectly courteous yet clearly eager to be done with it—and became even more certain of his guess. He waved his hand and said:
“No need, no need. Let Qingzhu see me out.”
“Huaishu, you… go keep your wife company.”
Pei Zhiyu indeed did not step forward any further. He instructed Qingzhu to accompany him, and the smile in his eyes gained a bit more genuine warmth:
“Very well, Your Highness, take care.”
Zhao Yi turned back to look at him for a long moment, then sighed helplessly:
“Alright.”
Sigh. This friend of his, ever since getting married, had never stayed up all night chatting with him again.
But that was fine… at least in this state, he and his wife must be truly devoted to each other.
And that genuine affection might perhaps help him in some way.