Fifteen minutes later, Jiang Yao slowly appeared on the green stone steps, with a palace maid beside her holding an umbrella to shield her from the sun.
Seeing the man standing with his back to her below the steps, she lifted her skirt and walked down the stone stairs in quick, light steps, calling out in a bright tone, “Pei Zheng!”
Hearing the familiar voice, Pei Zheng turned around and saw her leap up two steps as lightly as a swallow. The maid holding the umbrella almost failed to keep up, instantly panicking—purely from fright.
“Slow down! Watch your step!” he could not help but raise his voice in warning.
By the time he finished speaking, Jiang Yao had already floated to him, standing on the third step so that they were at eye level.
Pei Zheng’s eyelids twitched. He suppressed the anger rising in his chest and said in a low, restrained voice, “Have you already forgotten what happened last time? What if you fall?”
Upon hearing this, Jiang Yao clasped her hands behind her back and rose slightly on her toes. “If I fall, you’ll catch me—like last time.”
Her tone was carefree. Her clear, black-and-white eyes were pure and bright, filled with trust in him.
In an instant, the surging anger in Pei Zheng’s heart receded like a tide. He sighed inwardly, completely helpless against her.
He wanted to ask—what if he failed to catch her?
He had never done anything without certainty. Yet the woman in front of him acted entirely on impulse; the more she was not allowed to do something, the more she insisted on doing it—just like now.
Pei Zheng calmly looked away and casually asked, “What did you just call me?”
“Pei Zheng,” Jiang Yao replied.
She poked at the begonia flower on his wide jade belt. Although the flower looked slightly wilted, the petals were intact and the leaves were still there. Satisfied, a faint smile appeared on her lips.
Seeing that he did not respond, she flattened her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “What? I can’t call you by your full name?”
Before Pei Zheng could speak, she crossed her arms, lifted her chin arrogantly, and said, “Then I’ll call you anyway. Pei Zheng, Pei Zheng, Pei Zheng!”
Why couldn’t she call her own husband’s name? She would call it—loudly!
As if this was already expected, Pei Zheng pressed his lips together and finally said, “…As you wish.”
Jiang Yao glanced behind him and asked a little disappointed, “Where is our carriage?”
“It is at the palace gate,” Pei Zheng replied. “This is the inner palace. Carriages are not allowed to enter.”
“But I’m tired.” Jiang Yao kicked her legs slightly, her brows lightly furrowed with a faint look of weariness. “The palace is too big. My legs are already sore.”
She had never walked such a long distance in her life.
Suddenly, her eyes lit up. Her delicate features brightened as she stared straight at him. “Why don’t you carry me?”
Pei Zheng immediately refused. “Nonsense!”
His expression was cold. Under the sunlight, his figure stood tall and upright. The light and shadow fell across his profile, making his nose bridge and brow bone appear even sharper and colder, like a snow-covered peak—untouchable and authoritative.
She had only been teasing him, but seeing his serious rejection, Jiang Yao’s rebellious side was provoked.
She turned sideways, tilted her face away, and glanced at him from the corner of her eyes. “I don’t care. If you don’t carry me, I won’t walk.”
The sunlight was bright, making her fair skin almost translucent. The red mole on her cheek looked even more vivid, and the pink peonies in her hair were striking. Her expression was bold and willful, yet not unpleasant.
Pei Zheng lowered his gaze slightly. Heat and cold seemed to intertwine within him. His thin lips moved slightly. “If someone sees us…”
Before he could finish, Jiang Yao cut him off, turning back. “Let them see! Who says a husband can’t carry his wife? Or is it that all your muscles are fake and you can’t even carry me—mmph!”
Her chattering lips were suddenly covered by a warm finger. Jiang Yao blinked, her eyes widening slightly as she stared at the culprit.
Until a low voice urged, “Hurry up and get on.”
In her daze, Pei Zheng withdrew his hand, turned around, and bent slightly—his meaning was unmistakable.
Without hesitation, Jiang Yao rose on her toes and climbed onto his back, naturally wrapping her arms around his neck.
Her weight meant nothing to Pei Zheng, who trained daily. He supported her legs with his palm and stood up steadily, walking toward the palace gate.
Resting on his back, Jiang Yao swayed her legs and pretended to be shy. “You actually agreed to carry me? I was just saying it casually.”
Pei Zheng curled his lips slightly. “You are becoming more and more brazen.”
If he did not carry her, she would only become unhappy later anyway.
Jiang Yao blew a breath near his ear, watching the pale skin gradually turn pink. She laughed softly. “Pei Zheng, your ears are so red and hot. Even they feel soft to the touch.”
Not only did she touch them, she even pinched them—mischievously.
Even with Pei Zheng’s restrained temperament, he could not help but scold her, “Behave yourself!”
The person on his back quieted for two seconds, then started again. Her tone was disdainful. “Behave yourself, behave yourself—you only know how to say that. Why don’t I just call you ‘Behave’ from now on?”
She rested her chin on his shoulder, breathing lightly against him, her voice playful and strange. “Pei Behave? Lord Behave? Sir Behave? Husband Behave?”
Pei Zheng paused slightly, then said in a low voice, “Behave… If you keep acting up, I’ll throw you down and make you walk back yourself.”
“You dare?” Jiang Yao tightened her arms around his neck, threatening him. “If you dare throw me down, tomorrow I’ll make the whole Capital city buzz with gossip and then I’ll go back to Jinling!”
As soon as she finished speaking, her bottom was lightly struck, followed by Pei Zheng’s warning. “No more nonsense.”
“Hmmph.”
“………”
The nearby palace attendants exchanged glances and smiled knowingly.
They had not expected that the notoriously self-disciplined and stern Marquis Pei would act like this in front of his wife.
It looked as if something sweet had been melted into their hearts—soft, warm, and sweet like candy dissolving under sunlight.
Inside the Xunfang Palace, after Emperor Yongkang swept his sleeves and left, the Crown Princess Consort and the Princess Consort of Rui both excused themselves and departed one after another, leaving only Consort Zhuang and Princess Luanhua in the hall.
Princess Luanhua said guiltily, “Mother, I’m sorry. I was at fault today and implicated you.”
“But I still don’t understand. Jiang Yao is nothing more than a lucky woman who married Marquis Pei. She comes from a minor family with low status. Why would Father Emperor punish me because of her? And even compare me to Fenglai?”
In Luanhua’s view, she had bullied many people before—nobles, county princesses, daughters of high officials, even favored concubines. Her father had never truly punished her. So why Jiang Yao?
Consort Zhuang was not as angry. She patted her daughter’s hand to soothe her. “Your father is not punishing us because of Jiang Yao.”
Luanhua frowned. “Then why?”
Consort Zhuang shook her head, her expression serious. “I am not sure yet either.”
She turned to her trusted maid and instructed, “Send someone outside the palace to investigate what the heir has done recently.”
Her instincts told her that something in her maternal family must have angered Emperor Yongkang, which led to this punishment—and it was no small matter.
And within her family, aside from her useless younger brother, she could not think of anyone else who would cause trouble.
After giving the order, she turned back and saw her daughter still pouting. Consort Zhuang could not help but feel a headache coming on. “Also, next time you see Jiang Yao, restrain yourself. She is, after all, a marriage personally decreed by your father. To embarrass her publicly is to slap your father’s face.”
“As for comparing you to Fenglai, that is already elevating you. At least she is the only legitimate imperial princess born of the Empress.”
“Mother, why are you always praising others and belittling me?” Luanhua complained unhappily.
Consort Zhuang glanced at her. “Her name is Fenglai, and yours is Luanhua. If that isn’t elevating her above you, what is? Don’t you have any self-awareness?”
Luanhua: ……..