Zhou Zihong left with a smile to prepare for the wedding, while Mingyi returned alone to the main hall. On the way, she encountered Ji Bozhai, who had come out to admire the flowers.
He seemed to be in high spirits and smiled when he saw her. "You promised me last time that we would wear those kesi dragon-phoenix robes together."
Mingyi also smiled, casual and nonchalant. "Indeed. I already sent two bolts to Your Majesty's Qingming Hall. Didn’t you receive them?"
"I did," he said, lips curving. "What about yours?"
"I’ve ordered someone to make mine too." Yawning lazily, she added, "We’re about to go to war. It’s surprising Your Majesty still remembers such things."
"Your affairs are always on my mind," he said, gazing at her deeply before lowering his voice. "It’s you who no longer thinks of me."
"How could that be?" Mingyi laughed. "Your Majesty’s celestial grace outshines all the flowers in my backyard. How could my heart not have a place for you?"
In the past, she would never have been able to say such things. But now, she found Ji Bozhai’s habit of speaking nonsense quite appealing. They could banter casually without tension, neither taking it to heart, and it felt refreshingly light.
Sure enough, the man before her softened, his eyes gentle. "Truly?"
"How could I deceive Your Majesty? If not for Your Majesty’s overwhelming power, I’d have taken you into my backyard too," she teased with a smirk.
Ji Bozhai stared at her intently before suddenly stepping closer, leaning down toward her. "Do you know why the fire in my palace burned for months?"
Mingyi froze, instinctively stepping back, but his arm wrapped around her waist. "I’m already in your backyard. So why hasn’t the Minister Superior ever chosen my name?"
"..." As if the inner court officials would dare to write his name on the selection plaques.
Mingyi broke free and retreated two steps, silently reflecting on her lack of finesse in flirtation. Look at his techniques—close proximity, lingering gazes, whispered words—so effortlessly smooth. She still had much to learn.
Raising an eyebrow, she met his gaze. "If Your Majesty would kindly write your name on the plaque, I’ll choose you tonight. Though—lately, I’ve taken a liking to Zhou Zihong’s type: soft skin, slender waist. I might not have much appetite for Your Majesty’s flavor."
The man’s expression darkened visibly.
Mingyi was delighted. Whistling cheerfully, she stepped past him and continued on her way.
Ji Bozhai stood rooted to the spot, taking a long moment to recover.
"Your Majesty?" Buxiu supported him worriedly.
After a long pause, he finally exhaled, his lips pale as he glanced in the direction Mingyi had left. "Was I this infuriating before?" he asked quietly.
Buxiu chuckled awkwardly. "You and Ming Guniang have always been evenly matched."
Though he’d never said such things to Mingyi, he’d certainly said plenty to others. Back in Star Yearn City, noblewomen had adored his looks but despised his sharp tongue—and not without reason.
Taking a deep breath, Ji Bozhai smiled bitterly. "Fine. Consider it repayment."
As long as she was willing to give him a chance to make up for it with a wedding, he could endure anything.
He used to despise the idea of marriage—feeling like a living person chained to a stone pillar, unable to go anywhere or do anything, even having to face hysterics after a simple drink at a brothel. The mere thought had suffocated him.But now, he suddenly thought marriage was a wonderful thing—it could keep someone by his side forever, let him see her the moment he opened his eyes and before he closed them at night, share three meals a day with her, and spend all four seasons together.
He had grown tired of the wine outside and found the monotonous life of extravagance unbearable. Now, all he wanted was to be with her, eat home-cooked meals, worry over trivial matters together, and rejoice together over some newfound treasure.
That feeling of obtaining something precious, only to turn around and find no one to share it with—nothing was more dreadful than that.
"Are you sure Mingyi is willing to marry you?" Yan Xiao asked, raising an eyebrow as he ground medicinal herbs.
Ji Bozhai flicked his sleeve. "Of course I'm sure. Those few bolts of kesi silk were just me giving her an excuse to relent. Who knew she’d agree right away? Ah, you know how long we’ve been going back and forth—it’s about time we got married."
Yan Xiao scoffed. "But I remember you once swore to the heavens that you’d never hang yourself on a single tree for the rest of your life."
"You’re the tree. Your whole family is trees." He narrowed his eyes, then propped his chin on his hand and smiled. "Mingyi is the never-setting Facing Sun."
Yan Xiao: "..."
Thanks a lot for giving him goosebumps first thing in the morning.
"Did you settle the matter with the Helun Princess?" Yan Xiao asked again.
At the mention of this, Ji Bozhai’s expression turned indifferent. "The former Minister Superior of Star Yearn City passed away last month. Xian Wang wanted to succeed him, but I had people block it. Now he’s desperate and has no choice but to obey me. Not only did he take Helun back, but he also annulled the marriage and arranged for her to marry someone else."
"Huh?" Yan Xiao was surprised. "How could he agree to that? Having Helun marry you was a huge bargaining chip for him."
"That chip is useless to him." Ji Bozhai smirked. "Prince Ping’s son is still alive. If he insists on defying me, I can easily support that child’s succession instead. Then he’d end up with nothing."
He hated Prince Ping—there was no way he’d let Prince Ping’s child inherit the throne. That child was merely a pawn to keep Xian Wang in check.
Yan Xiao thought Ji Bozhai was truly extraordinary. He could exhaust himself over Mingyi’s affairs while simultaneously maintaining control over every situation elsewhere, as if he had eight heads—thinking of everything so thoroughly that no one could accuse him of being distracted by love.
"You don’t have to worry too much about Helun. She already had someone she loved. Her insistence on marrying you back then was just her being blinded by power," he said. "You left her neglected in the palace for so long that she came to her senses on her own. She even asked the court physician if there was a fake-death drug—she wanted to escape that soul-devouring place."
Ji Bozhai narrowed his eyes. "When did I ever worry about her?"
"Then why do you always look like this whenever she’s mentioned?" Yan Xiao raised an eyebrow. "Aren’t you afraid she’ll seize another chance to cause trouble?"
"No." His voice turned cold. "I just can’t help but remember that unpleasant wedding whenever I see her."
Weddings were inherently tedious. If the bride wasn’t the one he loved, the entire ceremony felt like torture. Though there were still touching moments, the thought that the person standing across from him wasn’t Mingyi made the whole affair meaningless.
Fortunately, he still had a chance to make up for it.
"Make sure you come," he said, handing Yan Xiao the invitation. "I saved you a seat at the head table."
Glancing at the date on the invitation, Yan Xiao hummed. He certainly knew how to pick—two days before the campaign. That way, after the ceremony, the two of them could head straight to the battlefield together, sparing her the trouble of returning to her rear courtyard to face that crowd of men.Though he claimed not to mind Mingyi's imperial harem, knowing he was at fault first, Ji Bozhai's petty jealousy was evident. Who knew how many vinegar jars he'd smashed in secret? It must have been hard for Bo Zhai to endure it all.
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