Ji Bozhai still felt proud when he recalled it: "As an emperor, I indulged in no extravagance and managed to save up for a Golden House in just two years!"
"Then you made Ming Guniang so angry she chased you down to hit you," Granny Xun added expressionlessly.
His face fell, and Ji Bozhai grumbled, "She couldn’t separate public from private matters. Every emperor has their own private treasury—must it all be spent on disaster relief? What’s the Ministry of Revenue even for then?"
"But at the time, the famine was severe. Ming Guniang had just accompanied you to witness starving children dying on the streets. Then you turned around and gifted her a Golden House. All she could think was 'the rich feast while the poor freeze to death.' How could she possibly understand you were entrusting your entire fortune to her?"
Ji Bozhai stubbornly insisted, "Then she just lacked appreciation."
Granny Xun nodded as if enlightened, then turned to go tell Mingyi.
Ji Bozhai hurriedly pulled her back, sighing deeply. "Granny, you’ve been with me since my days by Bo Shi’s side. Why do you side with her instead of me?"
"This old servant merely believes Ming Guniang wasn’t wrong," Granny Xun sat back down. "She was still young then, at an age when vanity runs high in young girls. Yet she wasn’t swayed by such gestures—proof enough of her virtue."
He only indulged in such folly once a year. A man needs to let loose sometimes—diligent for 360 days, he ought to have five days of abandon.
Ji Bozhai didn’t think he was entirely at fault, but under Granny Xun’s gaze, he still felt a twinge of guilt and muttered, "Surely the third year wasn’t wasteful extravagance?"
"Indeed," Granny Xun nodded. "The third year, after a heavy downpour, Ming Guniang returned drenched and was about to change when you stopped her on the Palace road, asking if she wanted a man to warm her up on such a cold day."
Ji Bozhai had found the scene quite romantic—rain drizzling around them, his beloved looking up at him like a lotus in clear water, her features utterly captivating.
In reality, Mingyi’s makeup had been washed away by the rain, her hair plastered to her face in a disheveled mess. All she wanted was to hurry back and change, only to be waylaid by Ji Bozhai asking if she wanted a man.
Absurd. Shameless.
Without a second thought, she slapped him and left.
Later, when Bai Ying brought it up, Mingyi was still puzzled. "Was that supposed to be a proposal?"
Bai Ying rubbed her face, agreeing it was hardly appropriate. Out of kindness, she relayed to Ji Bozhai that he should put in a bit more effort next time.
Upon hearing this, Ji Bozhai immediately took it to heart. The fourth year, he proposed in front of the entire court during morning assembly, only to be rejected on the grounds that private matters had no place in court. The fifth year, he proposed after quelling a rebellion, but Mingyi was too severely injured to even hear him clearly.
From the sixth to the ninth year, something always went wrong.
After so many failures, a momentarily favored palace maid came forward and said, "A woman who truly wishes to marry you wouldn’t drag it out for so many years. Ming Guniang just wants to keep your favor without giving up her position as city lord."
Her words made sense, so Ji Bozhai promptly had her dragged out and executed.
Mingyi didn’t care for his favor—he was the one forcing it upon her. Who were these people to meddle?
But now it was the tenth year, and Ji Bozhai was troubled. What kind of proposal would finally make Mingyi say yes?As he was thinking, he heard someone announce, "Zhou Zihong has arrived at the Palace City."
His expression tensed, and Ji Bozhai immediately stood up.
Mingyi's thirtieth birthday was approaching, and she had previously asked him if she could invite some friends to the Palace City for a lively celebration, as she was too busy with palace affairs to leave.
He naturally agreed, but he hadn’t expected her to invite Zhou Zihong.
Zhou Zihong was already married—he had wed a noblewoman back in the third year of Daming, and by all accounts, the couple was quite happy. Ji Bozhai had even generously rewarded his wife at the time. Yet, upon hearing about Mingyi’s birthday celebration, Zhou Zihong was the first to arrive.
Ji Bozhai knew feeling jealous would make him seem petty, but he couldn’t shake the unease in his heart.
Had he not forcibly kept Mingyi in the Palace City back then, she would surely still be close to Zhou Zihong.
"Have the Imperial Household Department bring over all the newly made garments for me to see," he said, pressing his lips together.
Granny Xun chuckled. "Your Majesty, with your dragon and phoenix appearance, why bother with deliberate adornment?"
"Words are easy, but whether it’s sachet hairpins, boots, or gorgeous clothing, I refuse to be outdone by him in any aspect."
One was the emperor, the other a mere subject. If Zhou Zihong surpassed him, it would be an act of disrespect.
But Ji Bozhai was too worked up. He quickly freshened up, changed into new clothes, and then pretended to casually intercept Mingyi on the palace road as she was about to leave to greet the guests.
"What a coincidence. Shall we go together?" he asked with a smile.
Mingyi looked him up and down, her eyes brightening slightly. "Your Majesty actually dressed up today."
"Dressed up?" He feigned ignorance. "The Imperial Household Department insisted on sending new clothes, so I just picked one at random."
Mingyi nodded. "Perfect timing. Zhou Zihong and his wife have arrived. Come with me to meet them."
"A mere minister from Facing Sun, and you’re going to greet him personally?" he muttered under his breath.
"Your Majesty, I am the city lord of Facing Sun, and he is its prime minister. Moreover, he came to celebrate my birthday. Why shouldn’t I greet him?"
Ji Bozhai fell silent, subtly adjusting his posture to ensure Mingyi saw only his best angles.
Sure enough, Mingyi kept glancing at him, her eyes sparkling with admiration.
Ji Bozhai was pleased.
Yet, the moment he saw Zhou Zihong, his expression darkened again.
Years had passed, but Zhou Zihong’s elegance hadn’t diminished. He wore a green bamboo gray brocade robe, his ink-black hair secured with a jade hairpin, his features refined and his demeanor graceful.
Zhou Zihong stepped forward and bowed to Mingyi with visible excitement. "Greetings, Minister Superior."
Only then did he reluctantly turn to Ji Bozhai and offer a perfunctory salute. "Your Majesty."
Ji Bozhai smirked. Zhou Zihong’s wife was standing right beside him, yet he acted so dismissively—was he afraid no one would notice his special regard for Mingyi?
"At ease," Mingyi said warmly, lightly steadying Zhou Zihong before resting her hand on Ji Bozhai’s arm.
Ji Bozhai stiffened momentarily, then his expression instantly brightened.
"Yi’er and I were just talking about the two of you," he said cheerfully. "I heard your wife is expecting."
"Seven years into our marriage before any news—it’s rather embarrassing," Zhou Zihong replied coolly.
Mingyi glanced at the woman beside him, a graceful and dignified figure with arm gauze draped elegantly, who curtsied with a warm smile. "This humble wife, Madam Xu, has long admired the city lord’s reputation. It’s a regret we meet only now."
Poised and lovely, she was clearly a fine woman.
Mingyi smiled and nodded. "Let’s head inside. The wind is strong here."Zhou Zihong glanced at her hand entwined with Ji Bozhai's, his expression tinged with melancholy. Noticing this, Madam Xu immediately took his hand and said as they walked inside, "Husband, you never mentioned having such a close relationship with the Minister Superior that both he and Your Majesty would come to greet us in person. Your humble wife is overwhelmed."
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