After seeing Zhao Yuling off, Jiang Sui returned to Qiwu Courtyard with light, brisk steps.
Pei Zhiyu was already waiting inside, with maidservants bustling in and out, setting the evening meal on the table.
Jiang Sui reached the doorway, then abruptly stopped.
Shiyue, following behind, looked up in confusion—but upon catching sight of Jiang Sui’s expression, she lowered her eyes and stepped back with understanding.
Ah. Miss was up to mischief again.
Jiang Sui bowed her head slightly, twisting her handkerchief between her fingers, the corners of her lips turned downward. She squeezed out a hint of tears, then walked inside.
“My lady…”
Pei Zhiyu rose to greet her, but before he could finish his words, his gaze locked onto her slightly reddened eyes.
In an instant, his eyes seemed glued to her, unable to move even half an inch.
He heard his own voice turn hoarse, felt the heavy suffocation and violence pressing down on his chest:
“My lady… what’s wrong?”
“Did His Highness… make you feel wronged?”
Jiang Sui kept her eyelids lowered, a faint glimmer of moisture visible through the gaps between her lashes, looking as if she might cry at any moment.
She spoke in a soft, delicate voice:
“It’s not His Highness…”
Pei Zhiyu pressed his lips together, feeling the weight on his heart ease somewhat, and his voice softened considerably:
“Then what is it? Can you tell me, my lady?”
The maidservants had long since withdrawn, leaving only the two of them alone. Pei Zhiyu cautiously stepped closer under the guise of asking, bending slightly to shorten the distance between them.
He could clearly see her dark lashes trembling, could clearly smell the fragrance on her, even more pronounced now.
“Tell me, alright?”
Pei Zhiyu’s voice dropped even lower, husky, carrying a hint of seduction.
Jiang Sui’s lashes trembled even harder. After a few moments, she finally looked up at him—but there was even more moisture in her eyes now, crystalline tears hanging at the rims, threatening to fall but not quite. It made Pei Zhiyu’s heart ache with a sour, swollen feeling…
And also, a faint, inexplicable excitement.
His mouth suddenly felt dry, and he hurriedly suppressed the emotion.
Suisui was clearly so sad… how could he…
Jiang Sui was focused entirely on controlling her tears, maintaining the most pitiful appearance possible, and didn’t notice anything unusual about Pei Zhiyu.
She sniffled softly:
“It’s not a misunderstanding at all…”
Pei Zhiyu hummed lowly, coaxing: “What misunderstanding?”
Jiang Sui pouted and whispered:
“It’s not a misunderstanding between His Highness and my husband… His Highness simply likes my husband, I can tell.”
“My husband really hasn’t been hiding anything from me, has he? Otherwise, why would His Highness be so persistent, even coming to the door today… And she gave my husband something he likes—how would she know that… wuu…”
Jiang Sui accused in a soft, weeping voice, letting a single tear fall at just the right moment. Through the veil of tears, she secretly observed Pei Zhiyu’s reaction while subtly shifting her feet to draw closer to him.
Pei Zhiyu’s heart had long since fallen into chaos from her words. In his panic, he had no attention to spare for her little movements.
He was both flustered and relieved—thank goodness, Suisui still cared about him.
His usually steady voice carried a rare tremor:
“My lady, regarding the princess—I have absolutely not deceived you in the slightest.”
Gazing at the tear clinging to Jiang Sui’s snow-white cheek, his fingertips burned. He reached out to wipe it away, but his fingers only brushed lightly past her soft cheek.
Jiang Sui suddenly threw herself into him, filling his arms with softness and fragrance, instantly turning Pei Zhiyu stiff as a stone statue.
“M-my lady…”
His hand froze mid-air, his heart pounding wildly and erratically, the thumping numbing his chest.
Suisui… h-hugged him.
Pei Zhiyu instinctively glanced around to confirm—fortunately, when Jiang Sui had come in, all the maidservants had already withdrawn. He couldn’t help but let out a breath of relief.
A muffled voice came from his chest:
“My husband is lying. Even if you lie to me, I wouldn’t know…”
Pei Zhiyu’s breathing grew uneven. His stiff hand slowly lowered, tentatively settling at her back:
“Then, my lady… how would you like me to prove it?”
Though he asked, his mind was already far from the question.
Even though he had held her before under the influence of the drug, a sleeping person could never compare to the vivid, living presence before him now.
Pei Zhiyu restrained the urge to tighten his hold, but his face unconsciously lowered, warm breath spilling against her ear, a morbid tenderness rising in his eyes.
Suisui was so small. He so wanted to hide her inside his clothes.
He so wanted… to cut open his chest and tuck her inside.
He couldn’t help but let out a low, ragged breath, the scorching heat of it turning the tips of Jiang Sui’s ears red.
She buried herself in his chest and let out a soft “mm.”
At this moment, Jiang Sui’s mind was filled with only one thought:
My husband finally hugged her. My husband didn’t push her away… Being hugged by her awake husband was indeed much more comfortable!
As for what Pei Zhiyu was saying, she had no attention to spare.
She hadn’t taken Zhao Yuling seriously in the first place.
She narrowed her eyes slightly, tentatively rubbing her cheek against his chest, listening to the heartbeat at her ear grow ever more thunderous.
Was her husband… shy?
Well, her husband was such a reserved person, and now…
Jiang Sui finally lifted her head from his embrace, gazing up at him with shimmering, watery eyes, and said with a pitiful pout:
“Then my husband must swear… swear that he will never lie to me.”
Pei Zhiyu straightened up slightly, lowering his gaze to the dew-kissed hibiscus so close before him, his throat inexplicably tightening.
His voice hoarse, he said, “…Very well.”
“Let heaven and earth bear witness—Pei Zhiyu hereby swears that I shall never deceive my wife or cause her harm. Should I break this oath, may I be struck by heavenly thunder and never be reborn.”
He played a small game of words—those deceptions meant to protect her naturally would not count.
Jiang Sui did not ponder this too carefully. She simply lowered her face and burrowed deeper into his embrace, pressing her body closer, her shoulders still trembling lightly as if her emotions had yet to settle.
Seeing this, Pei Zhiyu tightened his arms further, one palm clasping her waist while the other moved to her back, pressing her into his chest in a fully enveloping posture.
“It’s alright, my lady…”
Pei Zhiyu murmured reassurances, his grip never slackening. To mask his intent, his hand began patting her back gently.
If Jiang Sui had looked up at that moment, she would have seen in Pei Zhiyu’s dark eyes a glimmer of the same abnormal, indulgent satisfaction that mirrored her own.
But at this moment, she merely squinted her eyes in comfort, the corners of her lips curving into a sly, triumphant smile.
This was the finest compensation the Seventh Prince had sent.
She liked it.
How that evening’s meal was consumed was no longer clear.
Both Jiang Sui and Pei Zhiyu harbored their own private motives—one still sobbing softly, needing to be comforted, and the other contentedly soothing her.
With the Seventh Princess providing what seemed like a perfectly legitimate excuse, the two shared their first display of such intimacy in front of others since their marriage.
Pei Zhiyu thought: Suisui is so upset, it’s only right that he overstep slightly and hold her to comfort her—otherwise, he would be too cold-hearted… She didn’t push him away, so she must be able to accept it.
Jiang Sui thought: So crying works this well… Even her husband, who so strictly adhered to propriety, held her for this long because of it.
Both thought simultaneously:
If only something like this… could happen every day.