Chapter 46: Gaze Falls Upon Her Delicate, Rosy Nose

Gan Qiongying withdrew her hand from Lihua’s waist—just teasing him a little, after all.

She watched as Lihua pressed his lips together, suppressing the slight upward curve, restrained and reserved. But based on Gan Qiongying’s meticulous research and observation over these many days, she knew this was Lihua’s way of showing happiness.

As long as the God of Wealth was happy, that was enough. She retrieved the jade ring from her sleeve and personally stepped forward to fasten it for Lihua.

“This was bestowed upon me by His Majesty,” Gan Qiongying said. “It’s said to be priceless. Such a precious object is perfectly suited for my incomparably precious husband.”

After fastening it, Gan Qiongying took a slight step back and said, “Look, how well it suits you!”

Lihua lowered his head to glance at it but was momentarily taken aback.

He raised his eyes to look at Gan Qiongying. The earlier secret joy, like a bubble pricked on the water’s surface, popped and vanished.

Lihua had already taken charge of the Princess Manor and knew everything within it. He had never seen this jade ring before, but he had indeed seen a drawing of it.

On the list of gifts Princess Duanrong had sent out.

This item was the birthday gift she had sent to Jinchuan Zhizi, Zhongli Zhengzhen, some time ago. How could she now bring it to give to him?

A jade ring of such exquisite quality, completely unadorned, was certainly not something one could casually produce.

She had been with him every day—when exactly had she gone to see Zhongli Zhengzhen?

Lihua’s mood sank inch by inch. He looked down at the jade ring and said softly, “An item personally bestowed by His Majesty—it’s inappropriate for the Princess to regift it to someone else.”

As he spoke, Lihua moved to remove it. He didn’t want it!

But Gan Qiongying pressed her hand over his and whispered, “His Majesty bestowed it after our marriage, so it was originally meant for you. As a woman, such a large jade ring doesn’t suit me.”

“I was confused some time ago and accidentally included it among the gifts sent out of the manor. When I attended a banquet recently, I retrieved it, changed the cord, and have been waiting for an opportunity to give it to you.”

Gan Qiongying wore an appeasing expression. “Husband, don’t hold it against me. I know the mistakes I’ve made. If you’re angry, you can punish me. This was always meant to be yours—please don’t take it off.”

Perhaps the phrase “this was always meant to be yours” soothed Lihua.

They tacitly understood each other, and neither mentioned whom the jade ring had been intended for before.

Gan Qiongying said, “At the Grand Princess’s birthday banquet, His Majesty is sure to attend.”

“Since our marriage, we haven’t met His Majesty together. This trip to the Western Hills is the perfect opportunity to also see Aunt and my younger brother.”

“Husband, don’t be angry with me anymore. I won’t dare to be so foolish in the future.”

Gan Qiongying’s honesty did indeed smooth the ruffled edges of Lihua’s heart.

When he had married Princess Duanrong, the situation had been extremely unpleasant. The day after the wedding, he had been beaten so severely he couldn’t get out of bed—how could he have gone to the palace to meet the Emperor?

The Emperor clearly hadn’t wanted to see him either, merely sending some trivial gifts and specifically dispatching a eunuch to reprimand him.

Those unhappy memories were something Lihua rarely dwelled on.

Now, bringing up the past should have been an unresolved barrier, but because of Gan Qiongying’s directness and apology, her pleading look as she shook his sleeve, it was like ink drops falling into water—quickly dispersing and vanishing.

Lihua let out an almost imperceptible sigh and pulled his sleeve from Gan Qiongying’s grasp.

His expression remained tense, but he made no further move to remove the jade ring.

Gan Qiongying achieved her goal and beamed with joy.

She wanted Lihua to wear it openly and conspicuously—otherwise, how could she lure the fish in?

She stuck close to Lihua and boarded the carriage with him, setting off toward the Haoyue Manor in the Western Hills.

Inside the carriage, Gan Qiongying didn’t let up. She knew communication was crucial, and how could she let Lihua go to Haoyue Manor in a bad mood? How would they show off their affection then?

So once in the carriage, Gan Qiongying removed her heavy outer robe and sat beside Lihua. She sent Tianjiao and Manyue outside and personally picked up the golden-threaded fan, fanning Lihua as he leaned against the carriage wall reading a book.

Princess Duanrong had always been extravagant. The carriage was large enough to hold several horses. Chilled fruits and refreshments were placed on a magnetic table, ensuring the plates never slid off no matter how bumpy the ride. The sides were lined with soft seats, while a large basin of ice was lavishly placed in the center.

Gan Qiongying dragged the ice basin closer. Though she wanted to lean against it to cool off, she restrained herself and instead acted like an eager little maid, using the golden-threaded fan to send cool breezes toward Lihua.

As for princess dignity or royal face—could you eat it? Could you spend it like silver?

Gan Qiongying could lower her posture even further. Forget fanning—she’d even wash feet if needed.

She had thought it through clearly: she didn’t see Lihua as a man, or even as a person.

A husband who gave her two hundred thousand taels of silver every month, who had revived several shops for her, and whose future income would far exceed two hundred thousand taels—was such a man even a man? No, he was a god.

Was serving a god even considered serving?

Her and the Emperor’s survival hinged entirely on Lihua.

No wonder she acted like a little lackey.

But Lihua couldn’t bear her excessive attentiveness. These days, as he watched her cast aside all dignity to please him, he simply didn’t know how to respond.

He had experienced Princess Duanrong’s fierceness—her notorious reputation and wicked ways—but he never imagined that when she truly cared for someone, she would be like this.

Lihua couldn’t help but wonder: Had she chased Zhongli Zhengzhen like this before?

“Enough,” Lihua didn’t want to think further.

He knew there were people in this world like that—when they loved someone, they wished them life; when they hated someone, they wished them death.

With a complicated expression, he looked at Gan Qiongying and said, “Princess, why go to such lengths?”

“It’s necessary,” Gan Qiongying replied. “If my husband is unhappy, of course it’s necessary.”

She wiped her temple with the back of her hand, catching a bead of sweat.

Lihua sighed, pulled her upright, took out a handkerchief from his sleeve, and gently dabbed the sweat from her temples.

Gan Qiongying looked at him with an ingratiating smile. Lihua gazed into her eyes, his bright star-like eyes growing somewhat dim.

“Princess… do you treat others like this too? So recklessly, lowering your posture just to make them happy?”

Lihua regretted the question as soon as he asked it. It wasn’t just a slip of the tongue—it sounded almost like an accusation.

But Gan Qiongying immediately shook her head, looking at him and saying, “How could you think that? Of course I wouldn’t treat others like this.”

“Though I was confused in the past, I was still a princess. How could I lower my posture to this extent? Wouldn’t that damage the royal dignity…”

Gan Qiongying wasn’t lying. In Duanrong’s memories, even when she pretended to pursue Zhongli Zhengzhen with all sorts of shameless tactics, she never lowered her posture like this.

Lihua’s heart skipped a beat at her words.

The darkness in his eyes deepened.

Gan Qiongying continued, “How could anyone else compare to you?”

No one else could come up with two hundred thousand taels in a month.

Upon hearing her words, Lihua felt his breath tighten.

The two sat facing each other in the gently swaying carriage, their closeness shifting with each movement.

Lihua watched her smiling, her face glistening with sweat. Her delicate makeup had not smudged from the earlier perspiration; instead, it resembled a plum soaked in honey, exuding a faint, sweet fragrance.

It made one’s mouth water just looking at her.

What exactly did she think of him?

Lihua had been pondering this.

If it truly was a case of being captivated by appearances, was his false face really so satisfying to her?

She had pursued Zhongli Zhengzhen before. If she knew his true appearance… would she like it?

At this thought, Lihua was startled by what he was thinking and quickly suppressed it, as if pricked by a needle.

Revealing his true face would mean death. A lifetime of never showing his true appearance was the greatest mercy his so-called father had granted him.

For a moment, an unprecedented rebelliousness rose in Lihua’s heart.

Why couldn’t he live as his true self?

What did it matter if it was just about appearances?

The appearance was his, the affection was for him—what was wrong with that?

He looked at Gan Qiongying, his gaze falling on her small, flushed nose. As if entranced, he leaned forward with the carriage’s jolting motion.