“Tangtang, listen to me, I really didn’t think that much!” In the courtyard, Ji Zhaohé tugged at Shen Qingtang’s sleeve as she followed him, pleading. “I just wanted you to watch those performers to help you relax. To me, they’re no different from lion dancers on the street! Who knew they’d suddenly show up? I was just about to send them away when you pulled down the veil.”

Honestly, was Shen the Rabbit in speed-walking mode? Ever since they returned home, he had been walking straight to his own courtyard without even glancing sideways—utterly ignoring her!

Good heavens, how was she supposed to know men weren’t allowed on the boat? No one had stopped them when they entered! According to TV drama tropes, shouldn’t there have been a male attendant blocking the way, saying, “Sir, you cannot enter!”, after which they’d either turn back or disguise themselves as women?

Shen Qingtang was also tired from walking. Hearing her words, he suddenly stopped, looked up, and retorted, “Are you saying it’s my fault? That I shouldn’t have pulled down the veil and let those ruffians see me? That I’ve failed to uphold proper conduct by showing my face in public?” His eyes glistened with unshed tears, appearing especially pitiful under the moonlight.

“No…” Ji Zhaohé gasped for breath. “That’s not what I meant.”

Those gazes had made her uncomfortable too—after all, those people were coveting her husband, the rightful consort of the Third Highness!

Complex emotions churned in Shen Qingtang’s heart, leaving him unsettled. He calmly said, “After all, to the Third Highness, I’m no different from those courtesans.”

Ji Zhaohé’s eyes widened, and she waved her hands frantically, trying to clarify: “No, you said that, not me! I never meant that!”

Shen Qingtang didn’t want to engage further. He walked into his room and tried to close the door behind him, but a strong force resisted it. Ji Zhaohé easily pushed her way in, lifted him by the waist, and threw him over her shoulder like a bandit—overpowering and unreasonable.

Good heavens, was this what it felt like to have maxed-out combat stats? Ji Zhaohé bounced him slightly on her shoulder.

However, the person on her shoulder wouldn’t stay still, squirming like an eel. Ji Zhaohé smacked the soft mound, causing him to freeze completely in shock.

Shen Qingtang’s face flushed crimson, his entire body feeling as if it had been boiled in hot water, burning with heat.

Ji Zhaohé, that shameless and despicable scoundrel!!!

If not for the imperial decree, he would never have married such a woman!

When they reached the bed, Ji Zhaohé set him down and effortlessly pinned his attempting-to-escape hands behind his back, kneeling on one knee before him.

The Third Highness, for once, shed her usual playful smirk and spoke with earnest seriousness: “Tangtang, I know how absurd I’ve been in the past. Before meeting you, I lived in a daze. But since meeting you, I feel like the emptiness in my heart has been filled. I like you, I want to cherish you, to live well with you, to travel the world’s magnificent landscapes together—just the two of us, forever.”

As an avid drama enthusiast, these lines came to Ji Zhaohé effortlessly.

But to Shen Qingtang, these words were unheard of. How could a woman in this world promise “just the two of us, forever”? Was she mad? He sat in stunned disbelief, his earlier shame and anger dissipating, replaced by an indescribable emotion. “You… you mean it?”

The arrogant Third Highness was kneeling before him, speaking earth-shattering words in such a humble posture—it felt utterly unreal.

Ji Zhaohé smiled gently and affirmed, “Of course, I mean it.”

“But,” Shen Qingtang didn’t understand, “we haven’t been married long. How could you suddenly…”

Moreover, they hadn’t consummated their marriage on their wedding night, and she had never stayed in his quarters since.

Ji Zhaohé explained, “I fell in love with you at first sight that day we met. I woke up early—if I didn’t like you, I would’ve pushed you away. But I’ve been denying my feelings, which is why I’ve neglected you for so long. I’m sorry.”

She then asked, “Tangtang, do you like me?”

The young man was lost in her apology, unable to respond for a long time. Only when Ji Zhaohé repeated, “Tangtang, do you like me?” did he snap back to reality.

He didn’t dare look directly at Ji Zhaohé, merely saying, “You are my wife.”

Ji Zhaohé stood up, stretching her numb legs, then pulled the young man into an embrace. “That’s enough.”

She would double her efforts to make Shen Qingtang fall for her sooner. As long as Shen Qingtang lived well, Minister Shen would hesitate to easily join the female lead’s faction, fearing for his son in the hands of the royal family. With such a significant loss of support, the female lead’s bid for the throne would be delayed, buying Ji Zhaohé more time to survive.

Some of her words were true, some false—even she couldn’t entirely distinguish them anymore.

East Palace.

Ji Zhaoyi sat upright on a rosewood chair, accepting a secret missive. Her eyes scanned the lines rapidly before she looked up at her confidante, her voice steady but laced with a trace of concealed concern. “Did the Third Highness say anything?”

The confidante, Qingque, replied respectfully, “No, Your Highness. The Third Highness only had the story transcribed and sent directly to you.”

Ji Zhaoyi set down the letter and sighed softly, her voice tinged with helplessness. “The Third Highness has grown up quite a bit after her outing.”

A young man reclining on the Crown Princess’s lap played with her hair. Hearing this, he gently closed his eyes and said in a soft, tender voice, “Isn’t it a good thing that the Third Highness has grown up?”

Ji Zhaoyi was momentarily taken aback, then she grasped the young man’s restless hand. “I would rather she remain a carefree child forever.” After speaking, her gaze fell once more on the letter, a faint trace of heartache inadvertently surfacing in the depths of her eyes, as if recalling some unwilling memory. She murmured to herself, “When Yue’er was born, a highly accomplished Taoist priest read her fate and declared she would not live past twenty-two.”

“Moreover, when she was little, she always played alone and rarely spoke. Father was deeply worried and summoned the imperial physicians. After examining her, they claimed Yue’er suffered from a ‘soul-loss syndrome,’ insisting it was incurable and she likely wouldn’t live long. In a rage, Mother Emperor executed all the physicians who knew of this. I thought it was all nonsense. Look, Yue’er just celebrated her twenty-second birthday and is still alive and well, contrary to their predictions. Even if she’s usually a bit outrageous, she is, after all, a woman. It’s understandable if she can’t always restrain her desires. As long as she’s healthy and safe, that’s all that matters. Beyond that, Mother Emperor, Father, and I ask for nothing more.”

The young man pricked up his ears, not daring to miss a single word. When he heard the phrase “understandable,” the smile on his lips became strained. Not only did his wife not discourage the Third Highness’s behavior, she found it excusable and allowed it to continue.

“Qingque,” the Crown Princess pondered for a moment, her expression turning solemn as she instructed calmly, “From now on, you will remain by the Third Highness’s side, taking orders only from her. Also, introduce ‘that person’ to her and say it’s my wish.”

After Qingque accepted the order and departed, the young man clung delicately to the Crown Princess’s shoulder, his voice dripping with sweetness: “Wife, who is ‘that person’?”

Ji Zhaoyi lowered her head to plant a kiss on his lips, then smiled and tapped the tip of his nose. “That’s not for you to know.”

She casually untied the young man’s sash and said offhandedly, “Do you think this Shen Qingtang can keep the Third Highness in line?”

“Wife, now is not the time to mention other men…” the young man murmured with slight dissatisfaction.

“As you wish.”

After the two “mutually expressed their feelings,” it felt natural to sleep in the same bed that night. Ji Zhaohé held Shen Qingtang, wrapping her arms tightly around his slender waist, burying her face in the crook of his neck. She took a deep breath, intoxicated by the scent of crabapple blossom, and sighed sincerely, “Tangtang, you smell so wonderful.”

Shen Qingtang felt ticklish from her breath and couldn’t help shrugging slightly. Though it was just a small movement, he still couldn’t break free from the woman’s grasp. Blushing, he denied it: “Not at all.”

Ji Zhaohé thought of something else and couldn’t resist sharing: “Did you know? In other parts of this world, there are three genders: alpha, beta, and omega. Someone like you would be a male omega, and I would be a female alpha. Both omegas and alphas have their own unique pheromones. If their pheromones are highly compatible, they’ll be irresistibly drawn to each other and end up together.”

Shen Qingtang didn’t quite understand these strange genders—they sounded like incantations to him. “What are pheromones?”

Ji Zhaohé pinched his fingers. “It’s the fragrance I mentioned earlier—the scent of crabapple blossom on you. Come, smell me and see if I have any too!”

They created a little distance between them, and Shen Qingtang brought his nose to her neck, mimicking her earlier posture. He sniffed carefully and faintly detected sandalwood, though not as strong as during the day. It was likely the lingering scent of incense used to perfume her clothes.

But Ji Zhaohé’s eyes were sparkling with anticipation, and he didn’t want to ruin the tender moment. He nodded emphatically. “Yes, it’s sandalwood.”

“See?” Ji Zhaohé was brimming with confidence because she could smell it too. She muttered quietly, “Though I didn’t used to have this scent before.” It was always the pungent smell of laboratory disinfectants and chemicals.

She wondered how her graduation project was going and whether any kind juniors had helped look after it for her.

Reading books was fun in the moment, but transmigrating into one was a nightmare. Usually, in transmigration stories, there were hidden figures—monks, Taoists, and the like—so why hadn’t she encountered any?

Whenever she lost herself in thought, her hands would unconsciously grab something. It used to be stress balls, but now it was Shen Qingtang’s face.

Shen Qingtang frowned. The tooth marks had just faded, and if the Third Highness kept this up, red marks would appear again. He struggled to speak: “Your Highness, if you keep doing this, my face will become round.”

“Huh?” Ji Zhaohé stopped but couldn’t resist giving another pinch. “No, it won’t. Your face will only become softer the more you pinch it. I brought some traditional medicine for you today. Tomorrow, I’ll have it made into an ointment that can whiten your skin. Another day, I’ll buy more herbs to make a face mask. After using it, your skin will become very firm. By the time we return to the capital, you’ll dazzle everyone and forever hold the title of the capital’s number one beauty!”

Shen Qingtang: “…What’s a face mask?”

Ji Zhaohé pondered how to explain. “Hmm… it’s a base made from milk and honey, mixed with some powdered traditional medicine. Blend them in certain proportions until it forms a thick paste, then apply it evenly to your face. Leave it on for a quarter of an hour and then wash it off.”

“Alright then, you can pinch.” Shen Qingtang obediently tilted his face and placed it in Ji Zhaohé’s hands.

So well-behaved.

Ji Zhaohé cupped the young man’s face with both hands and gave his plump lips a loud kiss. “How are you so adorable?”