Seeing his master’s melancholy expression, as if lost in thought, Fu Jiu tried to divert his attention: “Master, this is actually your first time traveling so far! I wonder what the scenery in Jiangnan is like and what fun things there are to do.”

Shen Qingtang also began to imagine it. “The poems describe it like this: ‘Spring waters bluer than the sky, listening to the rain in painted boats while asleep.’ It must be truly wonderful.”

Fu Jiu was delighted to see his master show interest, even though he didn’t understand poetry.

But the next moment, recalling the following lines of the poem—“By the wine urn, someone fair as the moon, wrists like frost-kissed snow”—Shen Qingtang’s expression suddenly darkened. The gentlemen of Jiangnan might be even more captivating than the scenery. No wonder the usually indolent Third Princess had taken on this official task for the first time—her mind was likely preoccupied with such matters.

“Following her there would just mean being confined from one residence to another. In the end, I still wouldn’t be able to leave the courtyard.”

In his youth, he had also dreamed of vast horizons. But before marriage, his tutor taught him that he could not leave the estate for fear of damaging his reputation. After marriage, it was even more forbidden, for fear of compromising his virtue. A man’s entire life was trapped in confinement, with no way to break free.

Initially, the Empress had wanted to assign a full squad of guards to accompany her youngest daughter, but Ji Zhaohe firmly refused, saying too many people would attract attention. She was going on her honeymoon to bond with her husband and didn’t need a large entourage. Reluctantly, the Empress arranged for a group of hidden guards to protect them in secret.

The journey from the capital to Jiangnan took only three or four days. Along the way, since Ji Zhaohe wasn’t familiar with Shen Qingtang, they barely spoke. Shen Qingtang spent most of his time reading the “Guidelines for Men” with such focus that Ji Zhaohe dared not disturb him, afraid her careless remarks might make the little crybaby weep. Not wanting her subordinates to overhear, she passed the time in the carriage eating, sleeping, and occasionally staring absentmindedly at Shen Qingtang’s face.

This trip was essentially an incognito inspection. She hadn’t informed the local magistrates or the Minister of Works of her arrival. They settled in a quiet small courtyard, and since the Crown Princess’s guards were present, the inspection matters didn’t require her attention. Ji Zhaohe treated it as a fully funded vacation.

Over the next few days, she explored all of Qingshui County and planned to visit nearby areas in the evening. Jiang Deming, seeing the Third Princess meticulously arranging her travel itinerary, grew anxious.

These past few days, Master Shen had stayed in the courtyard reading books and brewing tea, while the Third Princess spent her days out having fun. They didn’t even sleep in the same room at night—this was hardly how a newlywed couple should behave!

“Your Highness, Master Shen has been staying home reading all this time. Would you like to go see him later?” Jiang Deming hinted.

You, little ancestor, claimed you brought him here to bond, but you’re the one having all the fun. What will we do if the Phoenix Sovereign asks why the young master hasn’t conceived after several months?

However, Ji Zhaohe didn’t pick up on the old Steward’s anxiety. She simply said, “He enjoys reading that much? Then have the servants buy more books he likes.”

Jiang Deming grew frantic. “Your Highness, it’s not that Master Shen enjoys reading. It’s that married men can only go out on the streets if accompanied by their wives.”

“Huh?” There was such a feudal custom? So that meant Shen Qingtang had to follow her around? Well, it was just adding a travel buddy—Ji Zhaohe didn’t mind. “Alright then, I’ll go talk to him later. Starting tomorrow, he can come along with me.”

Ji Zhaohe set down the map in her hand, which was marked with circles and notes highlighting famous attractions and local snacks—all gathered by her servants. Since Shen Qingtang had never been out, she decided to take him on another tour of Qingshui County.

When Ji Zhaohe arrived at Shen Qingtang’s courtyard, he was practicing calligraphy, sitting upright with the poise of a refined gentleman.

He was so focused that he didn’t notice her entrance. Fu Jiu, who was kneeling nearby grinding ink, spotted her first. Ji Zhaohe raised her index finger to her lips, signaling him to stay silent and leave. She then took Fu Jiu’s place and played the part of a study companion.

“Wealth lies in strategy, not in labor; profit lies in positioning, not in toiling…” Ji Zhaohe’s eyes drifted to the elegant, delicate script and she unconsciously read aloud.

Shen Qingtang’s hand trembled, and he hurriedly stood up. He used the “Guidelines for Men” lying casually on the table to cover the copied text and books, then dropped to his knees with a “thud,” his voice shaking. “Your Highness, I… I was just copying this out of boredom. I don’t know what it means.”

Ji Zhaohe paused her ink-grinding, puzzled by his extreme reaction. “Get up first,” she said, reaching down to grasp his slender arm. She could feel his body trembling, as if on the verge of tears. “If you don’t understand the meaning, you can always ask me.”

After all, she had received nine years of compulsory education and was nearly done with her Ph.D. Translating unfamiliar classical texts was a essential skill for high school exams—it wasn’t particularly difficult.

Ji Zhaohe guided him back to the desk and moved the “Guidelines for Men” aside, revealing the elegant handwriting and the book underneath—Discourses on Salt and Iron.

She had come across Discourses on Salt and Iron in a TV drama before and later bought a copy out of curiosity.

Standing behind Shen Qingtang, she pressed her index finger against the line “Wealth lies in strategy, not in labor” and explained, “This means that becoming wealthy depends on planning and methods, not physical labor. ‘Profit lies in positioning, not in toiling’ means that gains come from advantageous locations or market opportunities, not hard work… Understand?”

The little quail in front of her nodded. Ji Zhaohe chuckled and ruffled his hair. Looking down at him from above, she didn’t notice the thoughtful expression in his downcast eyes.

Wasn’t the Third Princess supposed to be shallow, simple-minded, and nothing but a pretty face?

And… she hadn’t punished him.

Back in the Shen residence, whenever Shen Qingtang was caught copying such books, his father would punish him by confining him without food or making him kneel in the ancestral hall, lamenting that he would never amount to anything. His mother would also shake her head and say that too much intelligence would only bring harm. Yet the Third Princess had gently taught him without a hint of reproach.

Ji Zhaohe sat down beside him and handed him the hawthorn cake she had brought earlier. “Try it, I bought it at the market today.”

Shen Qingtang lowered his eyes, concealing his complex emotions. “Your Highness, let me go wash my hands first.” He had gotten some ink on his hands while writing.

Ji Zhaohe paused mid-bite. Washing hands before eating was a good habit. If she remembered correctly, hadn’t she been grinding ink earlier?

What’s unclean won’t make you sick, the neat-freak comforted herself.

Shen Qingtang ate like a little hamster, nibbling bit by bit. Ji Zhaohe watched him intently, almost forgetting her main purpose. “By the way, I’ll take you out to play tomorrow. You’ve been cooped up at home all these days and haven’t gone out yet.”

A flicker of surprise passed through Shen Qingtang’s eyes. Hesitantly, he asked, “Will it… affect Your Highness’s official duties?”

Seeing his serious expression, Ji Zhaohe couldn’t bring herself to say that she had been going out to play rather than work. “It’s all done. From now on, I’ll take you to explore all of Jiangnan!”

Aside from being prone to tears, Shen Qingtang was usually quiet and well-behaved. Taking him along was like carrying an exquisite little figurine. If she could occasionally pinch his cheeks in her free time, that would be even better.

Shen Qingtang nodded, but then remembered that Ji Zhaohe had been staying in another courtyard these past few days. He couldn’t help feeling dejected.

After marriage, a man’s most urgent task was to conceive and bear a daughter to secure his position. If there was no sign of pregnancy for a long time, people would inevitably speculate and doubt his fertility.

But it wasn’t that his body was lacking-it was that his wife… refused to share a bed with him.

He wasn’t ignorant of seduction techniques, but how could he employ them if they didn’t even sleep in the same room?

Just as Ji Zhaohe patted her clothes and prepared to leave, he mustered all his courage, clutched the hem of her golden python robe, and said in a soft voice, “Your Highness, could you stay here tonight?”

His tone was shy, but his words were bold and direct. Ji Zhaohe felt her blood heat up and her heart pound fiercely. She looked down at the fair, small hand, a stark contrast against her python robe, and unconsciously grasped it. Her thumb gently stroked the smooth skin as she suddenly laughed, her eyes dark and unreadable.

“Alright.”

Her gaze was so intense it made Shen Qingtang’s body stiffen. The skin on the back of his hand tingled under her touch, sending shivers straight to the depths of his heart. He wanted to pull his hand back but didn’t dare, biting his lip in resignation.

His chin was lifted by another large hand, and the pad of a thumb pressed against his bitten lip, freeing the pitiful red lips from his teeth and gently soothing the swollen flesh.

After a long moment, the Third Princess finally released the lamb waiting for slaughter and turned toward the inner room, her voice hoarse. “It’s late. Let’s rest early.”

Why does this body get so excited at the sight of a man? Ji Zhaohe let out a soft sigh, chiding herself for being weak and unable to resist temptation.

Shen Qingtang slumped in his chair, his face still tilted upward, revealing his vulnerable neck. His pupils were unfocused, his chest rising and falling unevenly. It was unclear whether he was feeling fear or disappointment.

That night, Ji Zhaohe did not ask for an extra quilt. She directly lifted the covers, glanced at the rabbit-like figure with trembling closed eyelids, and decisively slipped inside.

Lying in bed, all the techniques he had learned were forgotten. Shen Qingtang could only smell the sandalwood scent beside him and hear the clear, shallow breathing of the person next to him.

Forget it, let’s take it slow, he thought, closing his eyes and pushing the thoughts away.

Ji Zhaohe was a restless sleeper. In the middle of the night, sensing something beside her, she thought it was her cotton doll. She lifted her arm and draped it over the figure, then found it too far away and pulled the “doll” closer, pressing it against herself. Her hand wandered restlessly, squeezing lightly, and her long leg hooked over it, trapping the “doll” tightly.

Shen Qingtang lay on his side in Ji Zhaohe’s embrace, his face flushed red. He struggled to pry off the wandering hands locked around his waist, but the soft flesh on his stomach was squeezed, making him go weak all over. After a dazed few seconds, he clenched his fists and hammered at the offending hands.

What did this woman mean by refusing to consummate the marriage but suddenly holding him in the dead of night?!

The soundly sleeping Ji Zhaohe couldn’t feel his weak efforts, only the softness under her hand. Unconsciously, she squeezed a few more times.

Shen Qingtang completely gave up, tears slipping from the corners of his eyes as he felt wronged. He silently cursed the Third Princess for mistaking him for some land of tenderness. Crying and crying, he eventually fell asleep again.

The next day, Shen Qingtang was awakened by his biological clock. When he opened his eyes, a noble and striking face filled his vision. The Third Princess had inherited the Phoenix Sovereign’s delicate, petite face and nose, but her phoenix eyes and thin lips came from the Empress, giving her a cold, unfaithful appearance. When she wasn’t smiling, she looked even more gloomy. But now, with her eyes closed, only her long, curved eyelashes remained, making her seem somewhat gentler.

Shen Qingtang immersed himself in counting her eyelashes. Weren’t we going out to play? Why isn’t she getting up yet?

Is she going to sleep until the sun is high in the sky? Then how will we have time to go out? By the time we get ready, the sun will be setting.

Where is she going to take me? Shen Qingtang looked up at the roof beams, thinking about poems describing Jiangnan, a faint anticipation growing within him. He didn’t notice that his cheek had brushed against Ji Zhaohe’s lips.

The next moment, a sharp pain shot through his face, and he cried out in surprise.

“Ah-!”