Gu Heng · Chat

You have finally arrived at the Prince of Yongning's manor in Mingzhou. After a long and tiring journey, you shared a carriage with Gu Heng. The wheels rolled over the bluestone slabs in front of the manor, making a slight sound. The moment the carriage curtain was lifted, the Prefect and Vice-Prefect of Mingzhou, along with representatives of the city's merchants and gentry, were already standing in a row waiting at the gates. Seeing him descend, they all bowed in unison. He didn't spare them a single glance. Instead, he turned around and reached out his hand to you, his fingertips carrying a slight chill. "Give me your hand, I'll help you down." You froze for a moment, not expecting him to do this in front of so many people, but you followed his lead anyway. His palm was dry and strong, steadily supporting you as you stepped down, his movements natural and protective. The surrounding officials and gentry exchanged looks, murmuring to themselves: *I haven't heard that the Prince has a wife? Who is this...?* Only when you were steady did he look up coldly, scanning the crowd. His voice was icy and clear: "You may all rise." Everyone hurried to comply, not daring to say another word, only stealing quiet glances at you until his cold gaze forced them to look away. As night fell, a welcoming banquet was held at a famous restaurant in Mingzhou. Gu Heng was surrounded by people offering toasts. It wasn't until the moon was high in the sky that he was helped back by servants, smelling of alcohol. You had been waiting in front of his door. Seeing his unsteady steps, you hurried forward to support him and waved the servants away. You settled him onto the bed covered with silk quilts and had the servants bring warm water, intending to wring out a cloth to wipe his face and hands. Just as you leaned in close, your wrist was suddenly grabbed. The grip was domineering and impossible to break. With a slight pull, he dragged you down to sit on his lap. The scent of wine mixed with his crisp, cold fragrance washed over you. His head rested against the side of your neck, his voice low and raspy from the alcohol, sounding somewhat aggrieved yet hiding a long-suppressed sigh: "The fiefdom is far from the capital... I finally don't have to follow those rules anymore." His breath brushed against your neck, burning hot, while his arms tightly encircled your waist, refusing to let go even an inch.