At three quarters past the hour of Si, the morning court concluded.
The Crown Prince and other imperial sons departed first, followed by the ministers.
With no pressing matters in court today, Song Lin did not engage in discussions with his colleagues while walking. After exiting Qin Zheng Hall, he headed straight for the palace gates.
However, upon returning to the residence, the Eastern Palace carriage was already parked at the entrance of the Prime Minister’s Residence, with no sign of the Crown Prince himself. Only several sword-bearing guards from the Crown Prince’s retinue stood watch beside the carriage.
Song Lin: “…”
Remaining silent, he felt increasingly confident about the task he had entrusted to his younger sister the previous day.
Lifting his head, he gazed at the fluidly inscribed characters “Prime Minister’s Residence” on the plaque above the entrance, smiled faintly, then lowered his eyes and entered the compound.
As for Song Father, who had also attended court:
Since his daughter’s marriage to the Crown Prince, many court officials had begun flattering Song Father. He quite enjoyed being praised in this manner, often lingering after court sessions waiting for officials to approach him with state affairs discussions. This allowed him to opportunistically offer profound-sounding opinions—whether valid or not—knowing someone would invariably praise him.
Thus, he naturally lagged far behind Nangong Yi and Song Lin, likely having just exited the palace gates at this moment.
Inside the residence, in the main hall:
Nangong Yi sat drinking tea, accompanied by Song Ye. The two made sporadic conversation while waiting for Song Yao to appear.
Song Yao was in the inner courtyard—as an unrelated male, Nangong Yi couldn’t casually enter those quarters.
The moment Song Yao emerged with Song Wan, Song Lin also stepped into the hall. Song Yao called out “Second Brother” before taking lotus steps toward Nangong Yi.
“Husband.”
Nangong Yi finally smiled: “Mmm.” Setting down his teacup, he instinctively reached to embrace the beauty before remembering they were at his wife’s parental home. Withdrawing his extended hand, he stood up instead.
Song Lin: “Your Highness, is something…?”
Song Yao grasped her man’s large hand, interlacing their fingers as her beautiful eyes curved. She preemptively answered: “Elder Sister, Second Brother, Third Brother—we’re returning now.”
Shortly after, at the entrance of the Prime Minister’s Residence:
The three siblings led by Song Lin, along with various servants, watched as the Eastern Palace carriage gradually departed into the distance.
Song Wan and Song Lin didn’t particularly mind, but Song Ye covered his heart with his hand after the carriage disappeared, shaking his head repeatedly with a pained expression.
“A married younger sister is like spilled water! Ah! Ah! Ah!!”
Meanwhile, on the other side:
Inside the spacious and comfortable carriage, the refreshing aroma of tea overflowing from the cup on the small table went unappreciated by its occupants, who showed no interest in tea tasting.
From the moment she entered the carriage, Song Yao never touched the carriage seat, instead sitting on Nangong Yi’s lap as she was kissed so fiercely by the man she lost all sense of time and space.
When she finally gained a moment to catch her breath, the tall figure loomed over her again. Song Yao hurriedly leaned backward to escape, nearly falling.
Fortunately, Nangong Yi promptly protected her with his hand, preventing her from tumbling backward headfirst. Though she avoided falling backward, she pitched forward instead, her face pressing against his sturdy chest as strong, rhythmic heartbeats transmitted into her ears.
Her delicate hands expertly found their placement, landing precisely on his pectoral muscles before offering a token push. In a softened voice she coquettishly complained:
“Your Highness, what are you doing? This humble servant’s makeup will be ruined.”
Nangong Yi loosened his grip, steadying Song Yao’s body. After she found the most comfortable position to sit, he lifted his lips in a smile.
Taking her slender hand, he placed it against his cheek. Meeting her gaze openly, he expressed his longing without reservation.
“This solitary one missed you dearly, Yao Yao.”
Song Yao’s heart instantly softened. Her hand naturally stroked the Crown Prince’s handsome face as she leaned closer.
As if rewarding or compensating, she kissed the man’s beautifully colored thin lips, not just a fleeting touch but a lingering savor.
After several intimate exchanges, they reluctantly parted.
Yet Song Yao felt this wasn’t enough. Her mesmerizing eyes feigned the dazed look of passion, gazing tenderly into Nangong Yi’s depths as she murmured seductively:
“I’ve missed my husband too, so much that I couldn’t sleep at night.”
Watching Nangong Yi’s phoenix eyes instantly darken with desire and feeling his rising body heat, Song Yao mentally gave herself a thumbs-up.
Excellent, her skills in captivating the Crown Prince… ahem, her bedroom arts were becoming increasingly refined.
Just by studying a few bedroom technique books scavenged from the market, she could master them self-taught. Well done! Her ability to learn new things remained as strong as ever, truly worthy of her!
But Song Yao didn’t continue further. Instead, she reached for the rosewood food box brought from her parental home earlier, opened it, and picked up a piece of yam and red bean cake to feed to Nangong Yi.
“Your Highness hasn’t had breakfast yet, has you? This humble servant made this personally. Would Your Highness honor me by tasting it to settle your stomach?”
Since the journey wasn’t long and the Eastern Palace would surely have prepared meals, she hadn’t brought any soups or side dishes.
Nangong Yi took the pastry into his mouth, swallowed it, praised it as not bad, then finished the entire cake under Song Yao’s continued feeding.
After taking a sip of tea to moisten his throat, he lightly brushed his lips against the beauty in his arms and chuckled.
“Did Furen make this personally?”
“Of course.” Song Yao declared with unearned confidence, proudly puffing out her chest to claim credit:
“This humble servant personally washed the red beans, and even bent down to pick up a firewood stick for the kitchen maid. After working so hard, how can this red bean yam cake not count as made by my own hands?”
…
The couple stared at each other until Nangong Yi finally yielded, holding his utterly shameless Crown Princess while muffling his laughter.
His laughter gradually made Song Yao feel somewhat embarrassed, which slowly turned into flustered anger. She reached to pinch the Crown Prince’s ears that had already lost their redness.
The redness didn’t disappear—it merely transferred to the rarely genuinely embarrassed Crown Princess’s cheeks.
“If Your Highness keeps laughing, this humble servant will never personally make pastries for you again.”
Hearing his wife’s anger, Nangong Yi knew when to stop. He restrained his laughter, patted his wife’s back, and bowed his head in apology.
“This person shouldn’t have laughed.” Don’t be angry, Yao Yao.”
“In the future, no need to work so hard. To me, anything that Furen personally feeds me counts as made by my own hands.”
Song Yao: … Was this meant to show love or mock her?
Never mind, it wasn’t important.
Noon, Eastern Palace, study. In the inner room, behind extravagant gold screens carved with competing flowers, the reunited couple nestled together on a cool bamboo couch.
Though called nestling, it was extremely intimate.
Nangong Yi’s study wasn’t the pink-clad maids’ area, so the disturbing cicada songs continued wave after wave with the rustling wind through leaves,
Usually useless and noisy, today they perfectly masked some shameful delicate murmurs and sensual low growls.
After their lovemaking, the study’s inner room returned to tranquility, while the hot summer wind and cicada cries outside continued tirelessly without cease.
Song Yao: “Husband, move a bit. You’re so heavy.” Post-intimacy, her voice carried a seductive lilt, every word and movement captivating.
The way she was now clinging to her husband’s shoulder and complaining was utterly endearing. Nangong Yi smiled gently and obediently complied. Yet he still couldn’t bear to be separated from the beauty, so he changed positions, letting her rest atop him instead.
Song Yao: “…”
Tsk, why is the Crown Prince so clingy?