Is It Forbidden to Bully the Heroine of the Novel? - Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Song Muyun’s current room location was quite convenient, not too far nor too close to Moonrise Pavilion. She walked for a while and arrived.
Jiang Yao swaggered over and knocked on the door, hearing Song Muyun’s somewhat chilly voice responding with a single word, “Come.”
“Muyun, I bought some pastries for you. Come and try them,” she called out as she pushed the door open.
The person who seemed a bit aloof moments ago immediately stood up, pleasantly surprised, and said, “Jiang Yao, you’re here!”
Pulling Jiang Yao over and seating her on the couch, whispering, “Didn’t you go to teach the Eighth Prince archery? How are they doing?”
“Prince Eight is doing quite well, but Murong Qing can’t shoot at all. He’s useless,” she said disdainfully, not holding back in speaking ill of Seventh Prince. “There are plenty of men with both literary and martial skills. You shouldn’t look for someone with poor martial skills; they won’t be able to protect you when you’re out.”
Song Muyun nodded obediently, her butterfly hairpin trembling slightly as she lowered her slender eyelashes, softly saying, “I know. I like men with good martial skills.”
Seeing her so understanding, Jiang Yao found it endearing and extended her arm to pat the lovely fluffy head of the beauty.
The beauty even cooperated, allowing Jiang Yao’s touch. Acting so obedient and heartwarming.
Turns out, when she wasn’t cold, she was like this. She never saw her behave this way even in dreams, but now she had seen it repeatedly.
And as for Murong Qing, that insignificant fellow could never witness Song Muyun treating others with such warmth. She would gossip to Song Muyun daily about Murong Qing, and it was apparent that Song Muyun was growing to despise Murong Qing more, accomplishing her goal!
“In the future, if you want to start a family, I’ll help you choose a suitable man,” Jiang Yao said generously.
Song Muyun hesitated for a moment. Her previous somewhat shy demeanor inexplicably turned cold. She nodded, “Then I’ll trouble you.”
Jiang Yao didn’t notice and kept inviting, “Why don’t you sit too? Don’t stand. Is someone bullying you when I’m not around?”
She asked in a low voice.
Song Muyun felt somewhat uneasy for some reason but tried her best not to show it. She shook her head calmly, her voice as clear as always, “No.”
“Okay, good. Try these,” Jiang Yao pointed at the pastry in the oil paper.
Song Muyun opened the package, revealing two types of pastries—pale yellow and white, three pieces each. Just enough to taste without getting too full before dinner.
Was she always this considerate?
“Is it delicious?” Jiang Yao asked.
Song Muyun nodded gently.
Jiang Yao didn’t say anything further and just watched her eat. As Song Muyun’s face lost its coldness, it gradually turned a bit embarrassed again. The blush invaded the girl’s cheeks once more, her long lashes fluttering like butterflies.
“Are you… are you leaving this afternoon?” After finishing a few pieces and sipping some clear tea to counter the sweetness in her mouth, Song Muyun pinched her sleeve and looked at Jiang Yao.
Jiang Yao lay on the soft couch, seemingly asleep but not really, and shook her head, “Not leaving. I’ll stay here with you.”
Song Muyun’s eyes flickered with joy for a moment. She nodded lightly, “Then let’s read in the afternoon.”
“Read? Novels? I didn’t bring any. Should we go buy one now?” she asked.
Song Muyun shook her head, “Not novels. I bought a collection of poems from the bookstore. Shall we read that together?”
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation.
Jiang Yao’s face froze. She didn’t like to read books and had an instinctive urge to refuse. But looking at Song Muyun’s hopeful face, she couldn’t bring herself to reject her.
In the end, she bit the bullet and agreed. After all, it was just reading a poetry collection. Who couldn’t do that?
Song Muyun, being from a scholarly family, loving books was perfectly normal.
Jiang Yao comforted herself in her mind. The two of them half-leaning against the window opened the new poetry collection.
“It looks good,” Jiang Yao said dryly.
Each poem in the collection was highly cultural. She recognized the characters but had no idea what they meant when combined.
Ugh, it’s giving me a headache.
Reading a poetry collection made her drowsy. She turned to look at Song Muyun but found her thoroughly engrossed, a slight smile playing at her lips.
Hmph.
Educated people were just different.
Jiang Yao stopped reading the poetry and instead focused on watching Song Muyun. She didn’t know how long she had been watching, but Song Muyun, with her fair hand, reached for a teacup nearby. As she took a sip, she noticed Jiang Yao staring at her.
In an instant, her face turned red. Song Muyun tightly gripped the pages of the book, causing them to crease heavily. She was oblivious to her actions and instead lowered her head, avoiding Jiang Yao’s gaze.
The little fairy was shy.
Jiang Yao moved her gaze away, finding Song Muyun really cute. She, being better at martial arts, usually only interacted with men. This was the first time she realized how different women were from men.
Just a few glances, and women would blush. If it were men, they probably would have shouted some shameless words long ago.
Song Muyun’s voice grew even softer, her cheeks becoming more flushed. She, like soft tofu, said, “What am I good-looking for? Don’t talk nonsense.”
Jiang Yao, even though she stopped looking at her, hugged her waist and pulled her closer into her embrace. She raised an eyebrow, her gaze falling on the woman’s slender, snow-white fingers, and laughed softly, her voice deep but gentle, “You are naturally good-looking. Where did I talk nonsense? Your waist is slim, even slimmer than my sister’s.”
Song Muyun, embraced by someone, didn’t resist. But when she heard this sentence, she was a bit surprised and raised her head, “You have a sister?”
Isn’t it that the Prime Minister and his wife have only one daughter and one son? How does she still have a sister? Could it be from a concubine…
Seeing Song Muyun’s misunderstanding, Jiang Yao hurriedly explained, “Cousin sister, she’s my cousin sister. She also likes to read. You two should get along well.”
It was strange indeed. Her second uncle was clearly a military general, but his daughter was obsessed with reading. Her father was clearly a civil official, but she only
liked wielding swords and spears.
If it wasn’t for their few years’ age gap, her mother would have thought they had exchanged the babies.
“Really? Then you have to introduce me to her,” they were very close to each other, and unconsciously, Song Muyun was lying in Jiang Yao’s arms, looking up at her with a pair of glossy black eyes, exuding a childish charm.
The author has something to say:
It’s late again, curse this wicked game.