Is It Forbidden to Bully the Heroine of the Novel? - Chapter 34
Chapter 34
The Eighth Prince leaped over the wall and what met his eyes were two girls sitting leisurely in the courtyard, feeding each other oranges, enjoying their time together.
He straightened his clothes elegantly and spoke, “Jiang Yao, you’re wrapped up in warmth and tenderness, but where did you forget about me?”
Jiang Yao suddenly sat upright, squinting her eyes. She didn’t know that Murong Ci had arrived?
Truly, women can disrupt one’s thoughts, dull one’s sharpness, but she smelled really good and he quite liked it.
Jiang Yao turned her head to look behind her, seeing the Eighth Prince standing alone in the corner. She raised an eyebrow. “Why did you come alone? Aren’t there two servants accompanying you?”
As she spoke, suddenly an arrow and a quiver were thrown over the wall.
Jiang Yao:…
“He didn’t climb over the wall, did he?” Murong Ci picked up the bow and arrows, smiling lightly at Jiang Yao. “Too many people climbing over might draw attention.”
…
Jiang Yao looked bewildered at Song Muyun, then at him, with a puzzled expression. “No, if you’re afraid, why come here? This courtyard isn’t occupied by just one person; if you climb over, others will notice too.”
Perhaps to make her statement more believable, right after she finished speaking, a woman not far away opened a window lazily, stood lazily by the window as if to catch some air, and then stared at the three of them, unable to finish her lazy stretch before abruptly closing the window.
Murong Ci:…
“Why live in the same courtyard as others? Isn’t it troublesome?” Murong Ci shrugged. “Your words carry a sense of disdain. You’re a prince, naturally, you can live alone in a courtyard. Ordinary people don’t have a choice. Moonrise Alley isn’t that big to have spare courtyards for individuals.”
Murong Ci, slightly puzzled, furrowed his brow, and after a moment, he smiled apologetically at Song Muyun. “Sorry, I misunderstood.”
He, being a prince, never experienced living in a shared courtyard with others and seeing Song Muyun’s demeanor, subconsciously treated him as someone of their ilk, leading him to speak that way.
Murong Ci shook his head helplessly. “Let them see if they want. What were you and Miss Song doing just now?”
Jiang Yao picked up a fruit platter and offered it to Murong Ci. “Eating oranges. Would you like some?”
Her demeanor seemed warm and natural. Murong Ci walked over directly, picked up an orange, and started peeling it.
He actually liked Jiang Yao’s attitude – not overly flattering, treating him like an ordinary person.
Song Muyun had been smiling at Jiang Yao all along, only remembering his manners when Murong Ci took the orange. He hurriedly stood up and bowed, “Muyun pays respects to the Eighth Prince.”
Murong Ci lightly smiled, “Miss Song, no need for formalities today. Consider me a friend of Jiang Yao’s.”
He was concerned about his reputation and thought Jiang Yao might be with Song Muyun, so he didn’t dare to enter through the main gate.
Lately, there had been frequent petitions to reinvestigate the Song family’s matter, and he knew something fishy was going on. But the Emperor suppressed it, likely holding a grudge against the Song family. Murong Qing’s scandal about wanting to buy Song Muyun for a night had reached the palace, and the Emperor scolded him in court. He didn’t want to attract unwanted attention and thus decided on a discreet entrance, but it seemed someone still spotted him.
Well, since he was seen, it couldn’t be helped. He was different from Murong Qing. He came to find someone while Murong Qing publicly wanted to buy a night with Song Muyun, an extravagant act that would displease the Emperor. Perhaps he was now regretting his actions at home.
Song Muyun, being overly courteous, remained reserved in front of Murong Ci. Jiang Yao pulled her to sit on a chair, instructing Murong Ci to practice archery with a strong old tree as the target.
The tree was old, much larger than a typical target, yet Murong Ci easily hit it with an arrow and then turned to look at Jiang Yao.
Jiang Yao was peeling an orange and about to feed Song Muyun a slice. Song Muyun felt uncomfortable with an outsider around, hesitating to eat, but Jiang Yao managed to slip it into her mouth. She blushed slightly, feeling embarrassed, then gently pulled Jiang Yao’s sleeve. “There are others around, don’t do this.”
Jiang Yao couldn’t understand why feeding her an orange was such a big deal. Couldn’t Song Muyun eat oranges when Murong Ci was around? What was the logic behind it?
Jiang Miss didn’t understand and declared she wouldn’t listen, continuing to separate a slice of orange and feeding it to Song Muyun. Her finger accidentally touched the soft lips of the other, deliberately rubbing against them.
Song Muyun was surprised, quickly lowering her head, afraid to look at Murong Ci’s expression.
How could they be so intimate in front of others? People would say they had no manners. She adhered strictly to etiquette, yet this couldn’t be allowed. She had been strictly trained since childhood.
She never thought she would encounter Jiang Yao, who didn’t care about any rules.
Jiang Yao acted recklessly, doing whatever she pleased. Even to a prince, she was insolent and lacked manners.
Logically speaking, people like them would never become friends, but life was unpredictable.
Jiang Yao’s recklessness and disregard for rules, if not directed at her, were something she quite admired.
Murong Ci watched them both expressionlessly, suddenly feeling he shouldn’t have come. They were chatting together without paying any attention to him?
Perhaps Murong Ci’s resentment was too deep. Finally, Jiang Yao glanced up, meeting Murong Ci’s eyes, having cast him several side glances.
Murong Ci felt regretful for coming over. He hadn’t practiced archery much, but Jiang Yao had already shot several secretive glances at him. He hadn’t done anything wrong!
Song Muyun didn’t know how to defend herself. She just pouted her lips and turned her head away, ignoring Jiang Yao, leaving both of them behind.
Murong Ci hesitated for a moment. Since he had come, glared at them, and now if he left, wouldn’t it be all for nothing?
He decided to stay and practice earnestly with the bow and arrow.
Jiang Yao pulled Song Muyun to sit beside her, her head naturally falling onto her shoulder, facing the girl with a side profile as delicate as jade, speaking pitifully, “Muyun, my hand is sore from holding the arrow. It’s heavy. Could you massage it for me?”
She got closer to Song Muyun, her breath sweet and fragrant.
Such intimacy made Song Muyun uncomfortable. She quickly shifted her gaze away, not daring to look at Jiang Yao, feeling weak and flustered. “You, you only shot one arrow. If your hand is sore, the Eighth Prince should be more sore than
you.”
She didn’t know how to respond. In confusion, she mentioned Murong Ci, but it annoyed Jiang Yao. Why did she mention him now? That hadn’t happened before!
Was she perhaps showing interest in him?!
Jiang Yao couldn’t help but look at Murong Ci.
Feeling a sudden chill beside him, Murong Ci’s slender figure shivered. He heard Jiang Yao’s chilly tone as she asked him, “Eighth Prince, is Muyun worried that your hand might be sore? Concerned about you, are you sore? If so, you should rest for a few days.”
Her words startled both Song Muyun and Murong Ci.
Song Muyun was desperate to cover Jiang Yao’s mouth. Her serene and ethereal face cracked, her grip on Jiang Yao’s hand, firmer than ever before. Her face was both embarrassed and angry. “When did I ever care about the Eighth Prince? How could you make such baseless claims!”
Jiang Yao looked up, snorting twice. “Didn’t you just say the Eighth Prince’s hand was more sore than mine? Isn’t that showing concern?”
She was slightly displeased for reasons even she couldn’t quite understand, wanting to say something to tease or provoke others.
She was good at teasing people, and the straightforward Song Muyun glared at her.
Murong Ci now regretted coming over. Before he had even practiced a few arrows, Jiang Yao had already given him several unseen glances. Heaven help him; he hadn’t done anything!
Song Muyun didn’t know how to explain herself and could only sulk, pursing her lips. After a while, she turned away, ignoring Jiang Yao, leaving the prince behind.
Murong Ci hesitated for a moment, feeling he had come all this way and glared at them, so if he left now, it would all have been pointless.
He decided to stay and earnestly practice with the bow and arrow.
Jiang Yao pulled Song Muyun to sit beside her, letting her head naturally droop until it rested on Song Muyun’s shoulder. Looking at the girl’s face as fair as jade, she spoke in a pitiful tone, “Muyun, my hand hurts from the arrow, it’s heavy. Can you massage it for me?”
She leaned closer to Song Muyun, her breath sweet.
Such closeness made Song Muyun feel uneasy. She quickly looked away, not daring to meet Jiang Yao’s eyes, feeling flustered. “You, you only shot one arrow. If your hand hurts, the Eighth Prince’s hand should hurt even more.”
She didn’t know how to respond, randomly mentioning Murong Ci had somehow irritated Jiang Yao. Why had she mentioned him now? That hadn’t happened before!
Was she perhaps showing interest in him?!
Jiang Yao couldn’t help but glance at Murong Ci.
Feeling an abrupt chill beside him, Murong Ci’s slender body shivered. He heard Jiang Yao’s somewhat icy tone as she asked him, “Eighth Prince, is Muyun worried that your hand might hurt? Are you in pain? If so, maybe you should rest for a few days.”
Her words startled both Song Muyun and Murong Ci.
Song Muyun was desperate to cover Jiang Yao’s mouth. Her serene and ethereal face cracked, her grip on Jiang Yao’s hand, firmer than ever before. Her face was both embarrassed and angry. “When did I ever care about the Eighth Prince? How could you make such baseless claims!”
Jiang Yao raised her chin defiantly. “Didn’t you just say the Eighth Prince’s hand was more sore than mine? Isn’t that showing concern?”
She felt a bit upset for reasons even she couldn’t understand and wanted to say something to provoke or tease them.
She was good at provoking people, and the usually straightforward Song Muyun glared at her.
Murong Ci now regretted coming over. Before he had even practiced a few arrows, Jiang Yao had already given him several unseen glances. Heaven help him; he hadn’t done anything!
The two exchanged pleasantries, hiding any hint of their awkwardness. “Thank you for your concern, Miss Song. My hand isn’t sore; I can continue practicing,” she replied as if affirming her earlier statement. With precision, she shot another arrow, just as powerful and clean as before.
Though Song Muyun was somewhat annoyed, she couldn’t ignore Jiang Yao’s thick skin. She leaned over and put her hand on Song Muyun’s shoulder. “Did you hear that? The Eighth Prince says his hand isn’t sore! But even if my hand is sore, you ignore me. Are you more concerned about others?”
Her twisting of facts left Song Muyun too frustrated to engage. Lips pressed tight, anger flickered in her eyes as her body tensed slightly. After a standoff, Song Muyun couldn’t hold back. She turned abruptly to address the situation, almost colliding with Jiang Yao’s unexpectedly close face. Their lips almost brushed against the fine hairs on each other’s face, startling Song Muyun backward. Jiang Yao quickly steadied her by grabbing the chair.
This scare diminished some of her anger, and Song Muyun could only glare at Jiang Yao with little intimidation.
Feeling wronged, Jiang Yao muttered, “You’re not even concerned about my sore hand, and now you’re glaring at me. Have you lost your feelings? Am I bothering you?”
These lines seemed perfect from her script for the moment. Song Muyun had never felt so wrongly accused. If not for the Eighth Prince’s presence, she’d have walked away, not wanting to embarrass Jiang Yao in public. “When did I say I’m bothered by you? You… you’re just being unreasonable!”
Lowering her voice, she was afraid even their argument might be overheard by Murong Ci.
Jiang Yao, feeling indignant, said, “If you don’t care about my sore hand, fine, but why do you care about the Eighth Prince? Are you more concerned about him than me?”
Murong Ci, frozen in his archery stance, hoped the argument would stay between them and not involve him, the innocent bystander.
Song Muyun bit her lip, the first time she disregarded decorum. She lightly pinched Jiang Yao’s waist, though it wasn’t as harsh as a cat’s scratch. It was a mix of reluctance and anger, a way to vent her frustration.
“When did I ever show concern for the Eighth Prince? I said your hand being sore is fake. With your skills, how could your hand be sore?” Song Muyun justified.
Asserting herself, Jiang Yao responded, “Even if I’m not sore, can’t you just massage it for me? Do I have to tire my hand for it to ache? I just wanted you to help, but not only do you refuse, you bring up the Eighth Prince. Who matters more to you, me or the Eighth Prince?”
Her unyielding and irrational behavior left Song Muyun momentarily speechless. After a while, she muttered, “Don’t be so loud. Do you have to let others hear us?”
The only other person around was Murong Ci.
Murong Ci wished he could block his ears and inform them he couldn’t hear, asking them not to involve him.
Jiang Yao huffed twice, then lowered her voice reluctantly. “You got mad at me first, so I got loud.”
She’d always been loud; her voice naturally carried.
Song Muyun had been genuinely angry before but couldn’t stay firm now, seeing Jiang Yao’s slightly deflated demeanor. She softened her tone. “I’m not mad now, can you lower your voice?”
Seeing her retreat, Jiang Yao chose silence deliberately, wearing a stony expression. Concerned, Song Muyun thought, “Is she still upset? Why is she so hot-tempered? I didn’t say much…”
The woman appeared cold on the surface but seemed somewhat anxious, fearing Song Muyun was genuinely angry with her.
In her mind, Jiang Yao grumbled, “Now you’re scared? You brought up others while we were having fun.”
She didn’t realize her intense possessiveness might be an issue. Seeing Song Muyun’s worsening expression, she finally spoke, toning down her voice and anger. She extended her arm unreasonably, “Could you massage it for me? If I say my hand is sore, it is sore. What does the Eighth Prince’s sore hand have to do with you? Just care about me, not him.”
Jiang Yao didn’t want to witness Song Muyun caring for or showing concern towards others, especially royalty. The relationships within the royal family were particularly complex, with few genuine individuals. Song Muyun, being so pure and kind, befriending them, would surely be deceived!
Her own family connections were simpler, with a heritage of deep affection and straightforward relationships. Playing with her should be the best choice.
Jiang Yao tilted her chin proudly, thinking to herself.
Muttering, “I didn’t say I’d care about him,” Song Muyun obediently began massaging Jiang Yao’s arm. Her touch was neither too light nor too heavy, extremely comforting.
“How come I never noticed before that you enjoy getting mad like this?” Song Muyun asked while massaging.
Relaxing in her chair, Jiang Yao turned to look at her, rolling her eyes skyward, “Who asked you to bring up others while I was coaxing you?”
Song Muyun applied more pressure to Jiang Yao’s arm, “Is this also coaxing? Am I here to serve you?”
With a faint smile on her lips, she didn’t appear angry. Jiang Yao couldn’t help but touch and play with Song Muyun’s massaging hand, feeling its softness and smoothness, then pretended to hold it.
Surprised, Song Muyun glanced at Murong Ci, who hadn’t noticed. She sighed in relief but still withdrew her hand.
“What are you doing? Didn’t we agree I’d massage you?” Song Muyun questioned her actions.
Blushing, the woman didn’t dare meet Jiang Yao’s eyes. Jiang Yao, unfazed by her embarrassment, tugged her hand closer.
“You’ve already massaged me; now it’s my turn to massage you.” Despite Song Muyun’s protests, Jiang Yao insisted on massaging her and forcefully took one of her hands.
Her slender and graceful hand fell into Jiang Yao’s palm. She massaged differently from Song Muyun, who focused on her arm, fearing she might actually have sore hands. But Jiang Yao knew Song Muyun took care of her hands all day, so they couldn’t possibly be sore. She concentrated on massaging the palm and fingers.
The palm was even more flexible, giving an excellent feel; Jiang Yao simply couldn’t let go.
Song Muyun couldn’t contend with her and could only blush, lowering her head, feeling somewhat shy and awkward as the sensations of gentle kneading tingled through her hand.
It was clearly a frivolous gesture, yet she didn’t find it detestable.
“You, stop that. Aren’t you supposed to teach the Eighth Prince archery? Leaving him hanging isn’t good; go quickly,” she said bashfully. After being kneaded for a while, she felt so embarrassed that her toes curled up, wanting to push Jiang Yao away to cool down her flushed face.
Jiang Yao couldn’t argue with that reason. Indeed, leaving Murong Ci like that wasn’t right. Reluctantly, she released Song Muyun’s hand, but her expression made Song Muyun feel awkward to watch.
It’s not like she wouldn’t be able to touch her later. How many times had Jiang Yao been touchy-feely?
She thought to herself, intentionally not looking at her, lowering her head. The heat on her face dissipated a bit as the cold wind blew, restoring her usual fair complexion.
Murong Ci was earnestly practicing archery, but after shooting ten arrows without hitting a single leaf, she sighed heavily, releasing the bow to rest for a while.
Most of the maids and attendants were out socializing during the day, so after the initial commotion, apart from the girl who opened the window at the start, no one else checked thereafter.
Jiang Yao walked over and saw Murong Ci resting. Without much ado, she picked up Murong Ci’s bow and demonstrated several times, teaching her how to focus on a falling leaf, predicting its trajectory. Murong Ci seemed to grasp some understanding, looking bewildered. Jiang Yao had to show a few more times, then, as Murong Ci wanted to try, Jiang Yao prepared to return the bow to her but suddenly remembered something.
“Muyun, come and try this bow; it’s really heavy,” she called out.
Song Muyun, having finally cooled down and settled, was quietly sipping tea when she was suddenly called. Looking up, she seemed utterly perplexed.
She walked over and stood beside Jiang Yao, tugging her sleeve. “I don’t know how to shoot a bow. Besides, this is the Eighth Prince’s bow; please return it to him.”
The Eighth Prince hurriedly interjected, “It’s okay, really. I’m not in a hurry. You two can use it first.”
Then he shifted his gaze elsewhere.
For some reason, he now felt as if he were watching himself in his second brother’s residence, observing his brother’s affectionate interaction with his sister-in-law.
The biggest similarity was… he seemed like an outsider QAQ.
“The Eighth Prince has been practicing all afternoon and must be tired. This bow is quite heavy; try it. I wasn’t lying about my sore hands!” Jiang Yao said.
It was hard to imagine she was really deceiving the young girl, but her face showed no signs of deceit; instead, she appeared earnest and honest.
Song Muyun hesitated and reached for the bow. Just as she grabbed it, Jiang Yao abruptly pulled back her hand, almost dropping the bow. Thankfully, she quickly caught it.
The unexpected move startled the young lady. She sighed in relief that the bow didn’t fall, then hurriedly grabbed Jiang Yao’s hand. “Put it down. It’s too heavy. No wonder your hands are sore. Put it down; let me massage them again.”
Jiang Yao raised an eyebrow. Did she really believe that?
Idiot.
Having practiced martial arts since she was young, she was accustomed to wielding bows and arrows; how could she easily get sore? She always regarded Song Muyun as intelligent, but now…
Thinking about how concerned the other girl was, Jiang Yao’s lips curled upwards. She returned the bow to Murong Ci, then, with an air of triumph, walked away with Song Muyun.
Murong Ci was speechless. He felt the two of them were too close, almost like an ordinary couple, yet they were both women.
Murong Ci felt he was getting more and more delusional. He quickly averted his gaze and resumed practicing seriously.
The sky had darkened, and if they didn’t continue, they’d have to wait until tomorrow.
Song Muyun wasn’t comfortable being too intimate with Jiang Yao outdoors, so she brought her back inside. Both sat on a soft couch, and she diligently massaged Jiang Yao’s arms, paying attention to both. Her pressure was just right, and Jiang Yao felt almost sleepy from the comfort.
After almost dozing off with her head almost falling onto the table, Jiang Yao suddenly blinked, finding Song Muyun still massaging her arms gently, smiling gently, and looking extremely affectionate.
Unable to resist, she leaned closer, propping her head on the table, and confessed, “Actually, my hands aren’t sore.”
Song Muyun remained silent, continuing to massage her arm without a pause.
Jiang Yao continued, “I can shoot arrows continuously for over half an hour without feeling any soreness. I was just deceiving you.”
As she spoke, she placed the hand that had been massaged for so long in her palm, afraid that Song Muyun might leave in anger.
Feeling guilty for deceiving her and more worried, Jiang Yao hadn’t expected Song Muyun to be so easily fooled. If others could deceive her this easily, it would be quite troublesome.
She assumed Song Muyun was truly fooled and felt a bit guilty. More than that, she was worried. But instead of seeing frustration on her face, Jiang Yao’s lips curved upward, and she handed the bow back to Murong Ci before walking away with Song Muyun, wagging her tail in front of him.
Murong Ci found it hard to comprehend; he felt the two of them were getting too close, almost like an ordinary couple. But they were clearly both women.
Murong Ci sighed, thinking he was getting more and more lost in his thoughts. He quickly withdrew his gaze and resumed practicing archery seriously.
The sky had darkened, and if they didn’t continue, they’d have to wait
until tomorrow.
Song Muyun didn’t want to appear too intimate with Jiang Yao outside, so she took her back indoors. Both sat on a soft couch, and she meticulously massaged Jiang Yao’s arms, tending to both with the right amount of pressure. Jiang Yao found it almost lulling.
Jiang Yao nodded foolishly, following her heart. “Com…comfortable…”
Song Muyun chuckled softly. “As long as you’re comfortable.”
Her smile hooked Jiang Yao’s heart completely. Her heart thumped wildly. When she was with Song Muyun for the first time, it wasn’t her who blushed, but herself.
She lowered her head, her voice inexplicably softer by a couple of degrees, feeling somewhat embarrassed, she candidly spoke, “I just wanted you to touch me. Your hands are so soft, it feels comfortable to be touched by you.”
…
Suddenly, a strange silence pervaded the surroundings. This time, Song Muyun truly stopped. Her lips twitched slightly, and after a moment, she let go of Jiang Yao’s hand, somewhat resigned. “You’re obviously a woman. How can you speak like those philosophers?”
That was a tough question to answer. Jiang Yao pretended not to hear and, going overboard, reached out again to grab Song Muyun’s hand. Song Muyun resisted a couple of times but seeing her persistence, she relented. Her smooth and tender, snow-white hands were held by Jiang Yao, in a more intimate manner.
There was no one else in the room, so she indulged Jiang Yao a bit more. She heard Jiang Yao ask eagerly, “I lied to you. Aren’t you angry?”
Song Muyun thought, what’s there to be angry about? She tried to pull her hand away, but Jiang Yao resisted, pulling even tighter. She just said, “I won’t be angry if it’s you.”
Implicitly, it meant only she was allowed this privilege; others weren’t.
This blatant difference in treatment made Jiang Yao’s heart race faster. She didn’t know why, but pleasure coursed through her veins, spreading all over her body. Her eyes couldn’t help but shine brightly at Song Muyun.
Then, her fingers were once again pulled closer by someone, demanding, “But don’t lie to me about important matters.”
Jiang Yao held onto those hands tightly, nodding in promise. “Hmm, I won’t lie to you again!”
If not lying to her could bring benefits, why lie in the first place?
Author’s note:
Jiang Yao: Wahhh, my wife loves me so much!
Eighth Prince: I seem to be in this chapter, but I don’t have much presence.
Because of the need to hit a thousand words for Thursday’s income board, there might be fewer updates tomorrow, around three to four thousand words. But I’ll resume my usual schedule after Thursday, updating on Saturdays as well!