11.
The young Emperor bowed slightly to Yang Qinyu, which made him feel rather flattered and surprised.
“This time, I failed to persuade Empress Mother. I apologize for the hardship you’ve endured, Brother Qinyu.”
Yang Qinyu instinctively glanced at his father, who maintained an aloof demeanor as if the matter didn’t concern him. Upon noticing Yang Qinyu’s gaze, he snorted softly and turned his head away.
Yang Qinyu silently shifted his gaze back.
He then looked at Xiao Buhuan, who was holding a teacup and avoiding eye contact.
Left with no choice, Yang Qinyu awkwardly accepted the young Emperor’s gesture without understanding the situation.
“I will recover soon and return to the palace to continue instructing Your Majesty,” Yang Qinyu said, glancing at the Court Recorder as he continued the pleasantries.
The young Emperor seemed to hesitate, looking at Xiao Buhuan.
A moment later, he turned back to Yang Qinyu with a determined expression. His face bore a genuine smile rarely seen before. If not for the formal words, it would have been a scene of true harmony and sincerity.
It seemed everyone feared the Court Recorder’s brush.
After the formalities, Prime Minister Yang led Yang Qinyu to the small garden in the Regent’s mansion.
Before leaving, as if it had become a habit, Xiao Buhuan personally fastened Yang Qinyu’s cloak under the complex gaze of the Prime Minister.
Gentle snowflakes drifted from the sky. The lake in the small garden was covered with a layer of ice, and everything was blanketed in white, lacking the vitality of green.
12.
“Son, I never expected that after just half a month in the palace, you’d return in worse condition than when you left.”
Yang Qinyu protested, “It’s not like that, Father. The palace provided excellent food and care. It’s just an illusion this time.”
Prime Minister Yang suddenly turned his head and gave him a slightly reproachful look.
The two walked side by side along the lake. Yang Qinyu lowered his head slightly, trying to bury it in the soft brim of his hat.
After coughing lightly to mask his discomfort, Yang Qinyu changed his approach. “Father, you know that instructing His Majesty requires my utmost dedication.”
Unexpectedly, the Prime Minister heaved a great sigh. He stopped by the lake and patted Yang Qinyu’s head.
“My foolish son, what did I tell you before you went to the palace? To stay away from the Regent, yet you still insist on associating with him!”
The Prime Minister looked utterly disappointed, a stark contrast to the man who had once clutched a handkerchief, shedding tears of pride while speaking of passing on his aspirations. Yang Qinyu suddenly felt as if he had committed a grave misdeed.
He gently patted his father’s hand on his head and said softly, “Father, Xiao Buhuan is a good person.”
The Prime Minister nearly coughed up blood, instantly clutching his chest and stepping back.
“Do you know who the Regent is? Can’t he teach the Emperor himself? With so many talents in the world, why must the Empress Dowager have you, a half-baked scholar, instruct the Emperor?”
Yang Qinyu blinked at him.
“When your mother was still alive, we had your fortune told,” the Prime Minister walked to the lakeside, hands behind his back, gazing into the distance with a profound melancholy. “The fortune-teller said you’d lead a life of great wealth and honor, with a destined noble person. But your life would be cut short in the middle, and your fate with women would come to an end.”
Prime Minister Yang sighed deeply, turning to look at Yang Qinyu with complex yet tender eyes.
“Yu’er, before you entered the palace, the Regent made a pact with the Empress Dowager using the imperial seal, saying that no matter what happened, she must protect you.”
Stunned in place as if struck by lightning, Yang Qinyu blinked at his father, unsure what to say. He had yet to process this information.
“I didn’t believe it before, but the Empress Dowager never intended to look after you. This gamble would remove the Regent from power while simultaneously restraining the Prime Minister’s mansion. A clever plan, but it overlooked the Regent’s hidden move.”
He then muttered with apparent frustration, “Before you entered the palace, I even discussed with the Empress Dowager about finding you a bride from a respectable family. Who knew it would come to this without you even meeting a girl…”
All these revelations swirled in Yang Qinyu’s mind.
“Father, do you think… Xiao Buhuan has feelings for me?” As if finally finding his voice, Yang Qinyu’s first concern wasn’t about the implications of this situation, but Xiao Buhuan’s true intentions towards him.
“What do you mean?” The old Prime Minister struggled to follow his son’s train of thought.
“I mean, the kind of feelings that involve kissing, embracing, and living and eating together daily.”
His father nearly jumped into the lake.
13.
Yang Qinyu practically ran back to the front courtyard, panting heavily.
Xiao Buhuan stood by the window, hands behind his back.
Seeing Yang Qinyu return, the young Emperor covered his mouth and chuckled softly, then excused himself and left with his attendants.
Now, only Yang Qinyu and Xiao Buhuan remained in the space.
Yang Qinyu straightened up, caught his breath, and entered the room.
Just then, Xiao Buhuan turned around, his face still bearing that cold, distant expression.
Sighing, Yang Qinyu approached him, still wearing the cloak Xiao Buhuan had given him.
When Yang Qinyu suddenly embraced him, Xiao Buhuan, for once, stiffened in surprise.
Yang Qinyu stood on his tiptoes, burying his face in Xiao Buhuan’s neck, smiling foolishly.
“Xiao Buhuan, do you not want me to be some teacher or the useless son of a prime minister?” After a moment’s thought, Yang Qinyu frowned and said, “In stories, it’s always the woman who marries into the husband’s family and takes his name. Given our situation, I’m afraid we can’t do that. How about you move into my home, or we set up our own household…”
Xiao Buhuan’s hands rested on Yang Qinyu’s waist as his cool voice sounded near his ear, “Yang Qinyu, where did you get such courage and confidence?”
After careful consideration, Yang Qinyu replied very seriously, “From you.”
14.
Not daring to meet his father’s gaze, Yang Qinyu stood awkwardly to one side, rubbing his hands.
Prime Minister Yang raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. Upon making eye contact with his son, he scoffed dismissively.
…Yang Qinyu silently inched a little closer to Xiao Buhuan.
“Yang Qinyu, what kind of behavior is that! Come here!”
Blinking a few times, Yang Qinyu tilted his head slightly to look at Xiao Buhuan, sighed softly, and prepared to walk toward his father. Suddenly, Xiao Buhuan’s arm shot out in front of him, blocking his path.
That perpetually unchanging face now bore an oddly uncharacteristic smile.
“Prime Minister Yang, when might you have some free time at your residence?”
The Prime Minister’s attitude towards the two of them was like night and day.
He bowed to Xiao Buhuan as he would in court, his expression appropriately respectful with a hint of flattery, and replied with exaggerated courtesy, “The Regent jests. I am at your service at any time.”
“Not at all.” Xiao Buhuan picked up a freshly brewed cup of hot tea nearby and offered it to Prime Minister Yang with both hands. “I wish to ask you to choose an auspicious day for me to come and propose formally. Or you could have someone bring a sedan chair to my mansion if you prefer.”
Prime Minister Yang was no longer young, and being repeatedly shocked into speechlessness in one day was truly taxing on his old bones.
As if that weren’t enough, the young Emperor chimed in.
“Imperial Uncle has been alone for so many years. It’s about time he found me an aunt.” After speaking, he seemed to suddenly remember something and glanced at the Court Recorder. A brief look of panic flashed across his childlike face before he hurriedly led the Recorder away.
The old man truly felt like collapsing to the ground.
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