“Meow~”
Jiaojiao bounced around happily, wanting to jump onto the bed to rub against Meng Qing’s belly, but Ji Yanche swept it up swiftly with quick eyes and hands.
“Shh, you cannot disturb your Daddy.”
With that, he tossed Jiaojiao to Deshun waiting outside the door, then returned to the bedroom, pulling Meng Qing, who was still fast asleep, back into his embrace, pressing his palm gently against Meng Qing’s soft, warm abdomen.
Feeling the familiar aura, Meng Qing instinctively burrowed closer into his arms, his fingers climbing up onto Ji Yanche’s wrist. Not yet fully awake, with his eyes closed, he mumbled dreamily, “Husband, I want to give you a baby.”
Ji Yanche was charmed to no end by his own wife, his voice filled with overwhelming doting and amusement: “Qingqing is a baby himself, do you still want to give birth to a little baby?”
“Mn Goodnight.” Meng Qing was far too sleepy to catch Ji Yanche’s reply, plunging straight into a deep slumber.
“Goodnight, darling.”
Ji Yanche pressed a kiss to his forehead, closed his eyes as well, and drifted off to sleep in peace.
For the next three days, Meng Qing racked his brains over the New Year’s congratulatory gift. Finally, an inspiration struck him, and he thought of a brilliant idea, making an oiled paper umbrella. Meng Qing remembered that in order to supplement the household income in the past, he had once worked in an umbrella shop for two years. Being nimble-minded and exceptionally quick at learning, he had thoroughly mastered the craftsmanship of making oiled paper umbrellas in just three short months.
Ji Yanche strongly supported his idea, waving his hand grandly to declare that Meng Qing could take anything he wanted freely from the estate’s storehouse.
Meng Qing knew very well that to noble imperial relatives and aristocrats, an oiled paper umbrella was hardly a rare treasure. Therefore, he intentionally selected superior silk in the imperial colors of bright yellow and orthodox red for the umbrella canopy, delicately outlining it with fine gold threads, meticulously embroidering a magnificent pattern of dragons and phoenixes bringing prosperity, and embedding smooth, rounded South Sea pearls along the tips of the umbrella ribs, radiating supreme elegance and luxury.
Not only that, he also had Ji Yanche use gold powder to write a poem customized specifically for the Empress upon the umbrella surface. The elegant, flowing calligraphy complemented the exquisite patterns on the canopy like a work of natural creation.
Hearing Ji Yanche mention that the Empress suffered from chronic chest tightness and abdominal bloating whenever it rained, an ailment plaguing her for many years, Meng Qing had a flash of insight and decided to design an intricate mechanism in the umbrella handle. With just a gentle twist, a hidden sachet nestled inside would pop open, filled with precious spices such as agarwood and ambergris. This way, whenever the Empress opened the umbrella, a refined fragrance would diffuse all around, which might even alleviate her illness.
“Qingqing, aren’t you going to rest yet?”
Late at night, looking at Meng Qing, who was still absorbed in diligently sanding down the umbrella ribs in front of his desk, Ji Yanche’s eyes filled with heartache.
Over these past few days, Meng Qing had been busier than himself, starting work on the umbrella the moment dawn broke, single-mindedly pursuing excellence and striving to make every single detail flawless. Seeing Meng Qing’s gradually thinning cheeks and the few blisters formed on his hands, Ji Yanche was filled with tenderness and pity.
“Husband, you go to sleep first, I’ll be over after I finish a bit more.” Meng Qing replied casually without lifting his head, completely focused on tinkering with the umbrella ribs in his hands.
“Sigh.” Ji Yanche sighed helplessly, picked up a book, and stepped forward. “Your husband will accompany you.”
Crafting an oiled paper umbrella with such complex craftsmanship consumed a tremendous amount of Meng Qing’s time and energy. Fortunately, due to his practiced skills and unremitting efforts, he finally completed it just before the palace banquet.
“Husband, look!”
Meng Qing opened the umbrella excitedly, revealing the silk canopy that cast a soft golden sheen under the sunlight, its hanging tassels swaying gently with the breeze to produce clear, melodious chimes. The flowing calligraphy and lifelike dragon and phoenix patterns set against one another on the canopy made it look even more luxurious and magnificent. As he twisted the handle gently, a delicate fragrance drifted outward, lingering all around.
“Will the Empress like it?” A sparkling expectation flashed in Meng Qing’s eyes as he turned to look at Ji Yanche.
“She will, Mother Empress will like it.”
Ji Yanche’s gaze similarly fell upon the exquisite oiled paper umbrella, feeling quite astonished in truth. He hadn’t expected Meng Qing to be able to produce such a breathtaking creation in such a short period of time. His Qingqing always knew how to bring him unexpected surprises.
“Our Qingqing is truly so amazing.”
Ji Yanche’s expression was dead serious, his eyes brimming with undisguised appreciation and affection. He never skimped on his praises for Meng Qing, and although Meng Qing had heard them countless times, every time he met Ji Yanche’s burning gaze like this, his heartbeat still lost control and accelerated wildly.
“Thank you, Husband.”
The New Year palace banquet of the Chengji dynasty could be called the liveliest and most luxurious grand event of the entire year. Drums and gongs resounded through every street and alley, people’s faces brimmed with joyful smiles as they warmly exchanged blessings and friendly greetings, their words filled with earnest prayers for peace and smooth fortunes in the coming year, enveloping everything in a thick, celebratory atmosphere.
Inside the carriage, Meng Qing was dressed in a frost-blue cloud-brocade long robe, embroidered with ice patterns in silver thread that radiated a chilly, refined beauty. A cloud-purple brocade sash cinched his slender waist, from which hung a crystal-clear, warm white jade pendant. Over his shoulders he draped a light-blue crane cloak, its collar rimmed with a circle of clean white fur that rested softly against his skin, making his complexion appear even whiter and clearer than snow. A few stray locks of hair fell beside his cheeks, making his brows and eyes look as though they contained a pool of clear water, his long eyelashes fluttering slightly, while his pale pink lips carried a moist luster, rendering his beauty indistinguishable between male and female.
When Meng Qing used to live quietly in the southern countryside and first entered the Prince’s estate, he only looked slightly more outstanding than ordinary people, never having been carefully maintained or groomed. Now, four months later, tenderly and meticulously pampered by Ji Yanche, who fed him all sorts of delicacies and beauty-enhancing tonics, not only was he radiant with health, but his temperament had undergone a complete rebirth, every movement and gaze radiating a charm that made it impossible for people to look away.
“Husband, why have you been staring at me all day today, is there something on my face?”
Meng Qing raised a hand to wave it gently before Ji Yanche’s eyes, his eyes filled with perplexity and his crisp voice breaking the quiet inside the carriage.
Ji Yanche closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, attempting to calm the turbulent ripples within his heart, though ultimately in vain.
Following that, he grasped Meng Qing’s flailing wrist, exerting slight force to pull the other person directly before him. In an instant, the two of them were leaning extremely close, and Ji Yanche clearly caught the fresh jasmine scent drifting from Meng Qing, a fragrance wafting faintly from the collar of his garment that made his Adam’s apple roll involuntarily.
Perhaps Ji Yanche’s gaze was simply too scorching; Meng Qing felt a prickling unease under that stare and called out softly once more: “Wenjin?”
Before that single word could dissipate, Ji Yanche lowered his head to kiss those moist lips, greedily devouring Meng Qing’s breath as dark, twisted thoughts unexpectedly sprouted within his mind: Craft a giant golden cage, lock Meng Qing inside, and make him belong to him alone. Put shackles on Meng Qing’s ankles, wrists, and neck as well. When that time comes, will he cry aggrievedly?
He must look extremely pretty when he cries.
Sensing the abnormality in Ji Yanche’s mood, though he didn’t understand why, Meng Qing still closed his eyes, tilted his head back, parted his teeth to welcome him, and allowed Ji Yanche to vent his surging emotions upon himself. As his breathing grew rapid from oxygen deprivation and his vision gradually blurred into dizziness, just as Meng Qing was about to reach his limit, Ji Yanche finally released him.
The hand supporting his waist withdrew, and Meng Qing’s body instantly went weak, collapsing powerlessly onto Ji Yanche’s lap as he panted heavily.
“Darling, how about your husband locks you up?”