They say that habits can be formed over time, and there is profound truth in that saying.
In the beginning, Jiang Zhou had to use a commanding tone just to get An-Yi to sleep in the same bed. Back then, An-Yi would lie there with her body ramrod straight, remaining motionless for hours.
Half a month later, An-Yi had grown much more accustomed to it. When the time came, she didn’t need Jiang Zhou to say a word; she would proactively wash herself clean and climb into Jiang Zhou’s bed. She allowed Jiang Zhou to hold her as they fell into a peaceful sleep. Sometimes, if Jiang Zhou kicked off the covers, An-Yi would naturally pull the quilt back over her.
Of course, “sleeping” here meant exactly that—just sleeping. Jiang Zhou understood the logic of gradual progress; if she moved too fast, she’d likely scare half the soul out of An-Yi.
…
The Outing
“An-Yi,” Jiang Zhou murmured lazily from her lounge chair, a book covering her face. “Are the results of the imperial examinations out?”
“Replying to Princess: the results of the provincial exam are out, and today is the day of the palace examination.” An-Yi stood by her side, her gaze falling on the book on Jiang Zhou’s head—The Fallen Socialite. It looked like a trendy new novel.
“Then will there be a parade for the top scholar shortly?” Jiang Zhou swiped the book away, meeting An-Yi’s eyes directly.
“According to tradition, the parade should begin in about an hour.” An-Yi didn’t look away; her dark pupils reflected Jiang Zhou’s silhouette.
“Let’s go see it.” Jiang Zhou rolled off the chair. An-Yi instinctively reached out to steady her, ensuring she didn’t lose her balance from standing too quickly.
Jiang Zhou grabbed An-Yi’s wrist, looked her up and down, then looked at herself before dragging An-Yi into the bedroom.
Fifteen minutes later, a dashing young nobleman and a veiled beauty in green emerged.
Needless to say, the dashing youth was Jiang Zhou, and the beauty in green was An-Yi, who had been meticulously dressed up.
“Princess, must we go out like this?” After changing into the complex dress, An-Yi felt restless. The stride required for the skirt meant she couldn’t move freely. If she needed to fight, it would be incredibly inconvenient.
“Change your address. Once we step out, I am no longer your Princess.” Seeing An-Yi’s transformation, Jiang Zhou couldn’t help but lick her lower lip. An-Yi was stunning; the veil added a layer of ethereal mystery.
“Young Master?” An-Yi was deeply confused.
“Not Young Master either.” Jiang Zhou smirked, using her folding fan to tilt An-Yi’s chin up. “I am your husband.”
An-Yi’s eyes widened in utter shock. “Princess, this is absolutely improper. This subordinate is—”
“This is an order!” Jiang Zhou cut her off. “Outside, I am your husband and you are my wife. Understood?”
An-Yi’s features crumpled in conflict, but she nodded heavily. “Understood… Pri—Husband…”
“Aww, such a good girl, my dear wife.” Jiang Zhou’s smile widened as she interlaced her fingers with An-Yi’s. “Come, wife, let’s go watch the parade together~”
Sleeping together had indeed paid off; when Jiang Zhou took her hand, An-Yi only stiffened for a split second before relaxing.
…
The Tea House Encounter
Many people had gathered for the parade. Since Jiang Zhou had put An-Yi in restrictive clothing, she didn’t expect her to act as a guard. Instead, she picked four skilled guards from the manor to follow them in plain clothes.
“Waiter, are there any private booths left upstairs?” Jiang Zhou asked, fan in one hand, An-Yi’s hand in the other.
“You’ve come at the perfect time, sir! We have one booth left on the second floor with the best view,” the waiter said with a smile. “However, the fee is a bit higher than the others.”
“Price is no issue. How much?”
“Twenty tales of silver. Of course, we will provide tea and pastries.”
“Wait! I’ll give twenty-five tales. Give the spot to me!” A youthful voice called out from the entrance.
Jiang Zhou looked over. A small “young master” about 1.6 meters tall had just stepped in, wearing white robes. Both the master and the servant behind them looked somewhat feminine.
Jiang Zhou saw through it instantly—these two were also women disguised as men. However, their disguise was amateur; they hadn’t even covered their ear-piercing holes.
The waiter, being shrewd, stuck to the rules. “My apologies, little master, but this gentleman arrived first.”
“And how might I address you, sir?” The girl, Chen Yu, looked up at Jiang Zhou. Upon seeing Jiang Zhou’s handsome face, her eyes lit up.
“My surname is Jiang.” Jiang Zhou opened her fan with a flourish. “And you, little master?”
Faced with such a “handsome” man, Chen Yu blushed. “Ahem, I am Chen Yu.”
“Ah, Little Master Chen.” Jiang Zhou’s smile grew. “You want to see the parade too? But there’s only one booth left.”
There weren’t many high-ranking Chens in the capital. Jiang Zhou recalled the Prime Minister; based on age, this was likely his granddaughter.
Dazzled by Jiang Zhou’s looks, Chen Yu began to stammer. “Um, if you don’t mind, we could share the booth. I’ll pay!”
She had come to see if there were any handsome scholars in the parade, but she had found a “top-tier” beauty before the parade even started.
Before Jiang Zhou could respond, she felt An-Yi squeeze her hand tightly. She turned to see An-Yi looking away guiltily. Wait… was smiling at a little girl a bit too much? I didn’t mean anything by it!
“And this is?” Chen Yu finally noticed their joined hands.
“This is my wife,” Jiang Zhou said. Recalling her recent “flirting,” she added, “My wedded wife. I love her dearly.”
An-Yi gripped her hand even harder, her lips pressed tight behind her veil as she fought to control her expression.
Chen Yu blinked. Typical. Whether in ancient times or modern, the high-quality men are always taken!
“Then I wish you both a hundred years of harmony and a son soon,” Chen Yu offered a friendly smile. It was fine; she could just appreciate the aesthetics. Actually, the wife looked quite beautiful too!
Sensing Chen Yu’s gaze on An-Yi, Jiang Zhou shifted to block her. “Little Master Chen, since we met by chance, let’s go up together. The parade is about to start.”
…
The Parade and the Pastry
The parade began, and the streets were packed with people throwing flowers and sachets at the scholars.
“The top scholar is here!” someone shouted.
Jiang Zhou had a prime seat, so she didn’t need to lean out. Chen Yu, however, was halfway out the window in excitement.
“Husband… the top scholar is here,” An-Yi said with difficulty. She still wasn’t used to the title but refused to disobey.
“Mmhmm, I see him.” Jiang Zhou glanced down. The scholar was decent-looking, maybe twenty-four. “He’s alright, but not as good-looking as you, wife.”
Jiang Zhou picked up a pastry. “Wife, would you like a snack?”
“…Thank you, husband.” An-Yi reached out to take it.
“No need to use your hands. Just lift your veil.” Jiang Zhou dodged her hand and smiled.
Is the Princess going to feed me? An-Yi hesitated, then slowly lifted her veil.
“Open up.” Jiang Zhou held the pastry to her lips. An-Yi obediently took a bite, eating half.
Jiang Zhou looked at the remaining half and tossed it into her own mouth, swallowing it in a few bites.
“Husband… I already bit that. How could you…” An-Yi’s composure nearly broke. She was a subordinate; how could the Princess eat her leftovers?
“Hmm? Is it poisonous?” Jiang Zhou tilted her head.
“…No.”
“Then it’s fine.” Jiang Zhou smiled. “As long as it’s not poisonous, there’s no problem.”
An-Yi fell silent. The next time Jiang Zhou tried to feed her, she swallowed the whole pastry in one go, leaving no leftovers for Jiang Zhou.
Jiang Zhou didn’t mind. After a few pieces, she stopped feeding her and simply rested her chin on her hand, watching An-Yi. The parade wasn’t nearly as interesting as her “wife’s” face.
Chen Yu finished watching the parade with great passion. When she pulled herself back inside, she witnessed the scene:
The handsome Master Jiang was resting his head on one hand, holding his beautiful wife’s hand with the other, wearing a smile that was deep and sincere. The beautiful Mrs. Jiang sat perfectly straight, letting him hold her hand, her eyes fixed solely on him.
Chen Yu didn’t know what to say. She just felt strangely “full”—like she had just eaten a whole tray of dog food (romantic displays) and needed to burp.