Chapter 113: This Humble Official Wishes To Divorce Princess Pingle

By the time everything was over, it was already midnight.

Pei Wenxuan lay on top of her. Li Rong was so exhausted she couldn’t open her eyes. After resting for a moment, Pei Wenxuan leaned down and kissed her forehead gently, saying softly, “Go to sleep.”

Li Rong responded with a nasal hum. Pei Wenxuan dressed her, fetched a blanket, and covered her.

Then he went to the bow of the boat, drew some water into a basin, mixed it with hot water from the small stove originally used for warming wine, adjusted the temperature, boiled another pot, and brought the prepared water back to the cabin. He used a cloth to gently wipe Li Rong’s face and the areas where she had sweated heavily.

Li Rong didn’t open her eyes, but she could feel her body gradually becoming refreshed.

Her throat was a bit hoarse, so she didn’t want to speak. Pei Wenxuan, satisfied and content, didn’t say anything either, but he was clearly in a good mood.

The second basin of water had been boiled and cooled. He used it to clean her again. Li Rong wanted to refuse, but felt Pei Wenxuan’s hand gently rest on her shoulder. After a comforting kiss, he said in a low voice, “It’s alright. Just sleep.”

But she couldn’t sleep—she was even more awake. Her face flushed, and not wanting to show weakness, she raised her sleeve to cover her eyes, pretending to block the light.

Once she was clean and tidy, Pei Wenxuan left the cabin. He seemed to wash himself with lake water—she could hear the splashing outside. After a while, he returned, lay down beside her, pulled the blanket over her, and gently held her in his arms, saying warmly, “Don’t catch a chill.”

He rested his head on her shoulder and cuddled close.

The blanket was all given to Li Rong. He only wore a thin shirt, but since the cabin was sealed, it was quite warm. Li Rong thought he had fallen asleep and quietly opened her eyes, only to find him lying opposite her, watching her tenderly with a smile.

Her face instantly burned, but she tried to act calm. “Why are you looking at me?”

“I just wanted to see how you look when you’re asleep. Who knew you’d open your eyes and sneak a peek at me?”

“Who’s sneaking a peek?” Li Rong frowned, embarrassed and annoyed. “I couldn’t sleep and opened my eyes. That’s not sneaking a peek.”

“Alright,” Pei Wenxuan chuckled softly. “Not sneaking. Why can’t you sleep, Your Highness? Tell me.”

Li Rong couldn’t say it—how could she admit she was kept awake by him? Her body felt strange again, and she stiffened slightly. Pei Wenxuan understood immediately. He restrained himself, did nothing, just leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead, soothing her with a low voice: “They’ll come pick us up soon. You can bathe once we’re back.”

Li Rong heard the change in his tone and knew he understood everything. She couldn’t keep up her pride, blushing and murmuring a quiet response. After a pause, she couldn’t help but grumble under her breath, “Why did you… leave it inside?”

“My fault,” Pei Wenxuan admitted quickly. Hearing her complain made him happy. He felt like he was soaking in the most perfect hot spring, and no matter what Li Rong said, he found it delightful.

The two leaned quietly against each other. In the peaceful atmosphere, Li Rong soon felt sleepy again. She rested her head on Pei Wenxuan’s arm, lying against his chest. Pei Wenxuan gently stroked her back like petting a cat, soothing her slowly.

Before long, Li Rong fell asleep. She didn’t know how much time passed, but she vaguely heard the sound of water changing nearby—someone’s boat seemed to be approaching. Li Rong slightly opened her eyes. Pei Wenxuan noticed and pulled the blanket over her, saying gently, “Sleep. I’ll go check.”

He got up, put on a coat, and stood at the bow. Seeing his men rowing over, just as one was about to speak, Pei Wenxuan raised a finger to his lips, glanced toward the cabin, and whispered, “Madam is asleep. Just take us to shore.”

The man smiled and nodded, not daring to speak.

Pei Wenxuan returned to the cabin and quietly closed the small door. Li Rong heard him sit beside her and mumbled, “What time is it?”

“The hour of the tiger.” (Around 3–5 a.m.)

Pei Wenxuan gently brushed the hair from her face, speaking softly as if afraid to disturb her: “You’ve slept all the way. Once we’re back, you can take a bath—it’ll be just about time for morning court.”

Li Rong responded faintly. Pei Wenxuan thought for a moment and said, “If you’re not feeling well, I can ask His Majesty for leave.”

Li Rong didn’t reply. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

Pei Wenxuan looked at her. He saw her brows furrowed, as if she wasn’t sleeping peacefully.

He knew that even if she didn’t say it, deep down, Li Rong was uneasy.

Feelings were his greatest vulnerability, and he had exposed that weakness openly to his opponents—Li Rong was afraid.

But she didn’t dare speak of it anymore. She was mindful of his feelings and kept her worries to herself.

Pei Wenxuan reached out and gently touched her hair, wondering what she was thinking. After a long while, he sighed, leaned down, and kissed her temple tenderly. “Don’t think too much. Sleep well. I’ll follow your lead.”

Hearing his words, Li Rong understood it was his compromise. She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. Her eyes were misty, as if she wanted to say something comforting.

But she didn’t know how, and feared saying something wrong again. After a moment of hesitation, she reached out and grabbed the corner of Pei Wenxuan’s robe.

“Can we do it again when we get back?”

She spoke softly.

All the ways she could think of to please him were tangible and real:

Power, status, wealth, desire.

Pei Wenxuan was caught between laughter and tears. He was silent for a moment before finally saying, “Let’s put it on the tab and settle it slowly. But your sincerity,” he placed his hand on her hair and softened his voice, “I understand.”

In truth, once her feelings were confirmed and she understood his intentions, the method didn’t matter anymore.

What mattered most was what made Li Rong feel comfortable.

If a relationship made her constantly anxious, then no matter how pure or hard-earned it was—what was the point?

Pei Wenxuan sat beside her, watching her snuggle up to him like a cat. Under his gentle comfort, she slowly drifted off to sleep.

Li Rong slept all the way back to the Princess’s residence. Pei Wenxuan covered her with his robe and silently carried her from the carriage into the estate.

Once home, Li Rong lingered in bed a while longer before finally getting up to bathe and freshen up. Then she accompanied Pei Wenxuan to court.

Pei Wenxuan’s face was clean and fair, but the scratch marks on his neck couldn’t be hidden. He wore his official robes and waited at the door for Li Rong. When she came out, he walked up to her with a cold expression and respectfully said, “Your Highness.”

Li Rong noticed his stern expression and was momentarily taken aback before realizing Pei Wenxuan was merely putting on an act. She quickly adjusted her demeanor, stepping forward with a somewhat guilty air, and tugged at his sleeve in a coaxing manner. “Husband.”

Pei Wenxuan remained outwardly indifferent as they walked side by side. To onlookers, he appeared cold and unyielding, while Li Rong seemed to be placating him.

Yet, within the intimate space between them, his voice was nothing but gentle. “Are you uncomfortable anywhere?”

“It’s not like I’ve given birth,” Li Rong replied, smiling as she leaned against his arm. “Why would I be so delicate? Besides—” She traced idle circles on his palm beneath his sleeve, her voice softening. “Thanks to Lord Pei’s… attentive care, this time is far better than in our past life.”

The pleasure of intimacy, after all, hinged most on a man’s patience.

Their first time in their previous life hadn’t been as agonizing as the rumors suggested—largely because Pei Wenxuan had been impeccably restrained and controlled. Now, not only was he patient, but he had also accumulated years of experience with her. Even if there had been any discomfort, it was negligible to Li Rong.

Hearing her praise, Pei Wenxuan’s face remained frosty, but his tone carried a hint of helplessness. “Don’t cause trouble.”

Li Rong chuckled quietly and refrained from provoking him further.

When they arrived at the palace and stepped out of the carriage, Li Rong reached for his hand, but Pei Wenxuan shook her off and strode ahead without a backward glance.

The scene was witnessed by numerous officials. Li Rong’s face flickered with embarrassment and irritation before she hurried after him, not wanting to linger.

For the court, the two most critical matters in the third month were the imperial examinations and personnel reassignments. Compared to the latter, the examinations were almost insignificant. The Ministry of Rites briefly reported on this year’s candidate registrations before withdrawing.

Once the morning court session ended, Pei Wenxuan had just stepped out of the hall when an attendant approached him respectfully. “Lord Pei, His Majesty requests your presence.”

Pei Wenxuan bowed in acknowledgment and followed the eunuch to the imperial study.

Li Rong watched silently before turning away and exiting the hall.

As soon as she stepped outside, she spotted Su Rongqing ahead. He stood among a group of officials, holding his ceremonial tablet, his brow furrowed as he issued stern instructions.

Su Rongqing was known for his mild temperament in daily interactions, but when it came to official matters, he was unyielding and exacting.

In the past, she hadn’t paid much attention, but now, upon closer observation, she noticed that the once-elegant and ethereal young man had long since acquired a shadow of ruthlessness in his demeanor.

Li Rong studied him from behind. Su Rongqing had been descending the steps with the other officials when he seemed to sense her gaze. He turned and found her standing before the grand hall, her eyes cold and assessing.

Su Rongqing said nothing. The wind stirred, lifting the hem of his robes as his gaze settled on her—a look that seemed to stretch across time, heavy with unspoken history.

The moment was brief, almost like an absentminded pause. One of the officials, puzzled by Su Rongqing’s sudden silence, followed his line of sight and asked cautiously, “Minister Su?”

Su Rongqing seemed to snap back to reality. He offered Li Rong a distant bow before turning away, resuming his conversation as if nothing had happened. “The key to this case lies in…”

Li Rong watched him leave, then let out a soft, mocking laugh before walking away.

Pei Wenxuan followed the eunuch into the imperial study, where Emperor Li Ming was practicing calligraphy.

Pei Wenxuan entered and knelt in formal salute, his usually gentle demeanor now edged with frost.

Li Ming glanced up subtly, brush still gliding across paper. “What happened to your neck? Those scratches—where did they come from?”

Pei Wenxuan’s expression remained rigid as he restrained his emotions. “Your Majesty, they were… accidentally inflicted during some playful roughhousing with Her Highness.”

Li Ming’s brush paused imperceptibly. He had already received reports last night—Li Rong had gone boating, accompanied by a retinue of handsome young scholars, and Pei Wenxuan had stormed in with a sword, “rescuing” her in a fit of jealous rage.

But since this was all gathered through covert channels, he couldn’t address it directly. Judging by Pei Wenxuan’s expression, last night had clearly not gone smoothly.

Li Ming silently pieced together the events, weighing the possible motives behind Li Rong and Pei Wenxuan’s sudden discord.

After all, for them to clash so abruptly just as he began contemplating his next move seemed… too convenient. Yet, given last night’s theatrics, perhaps the young couple had genuinely quarreled.

Maintaining an inscrutable facade, Li Ming feigned ignorance and spoke slowly. “Husband and wife must learn to tolerate one another. Pingle has been my most indulged daughter since childhood—she may be willful at times, but you need not take it to heart.”

“As Your Majesty commands.” Pei Wenxuan remained kneeling, spine straight, his voice steady.

“I summoned you to discuss your promotion to Vice Minister of Personnel. Given your rapid rise, some may question your qualifications.” Li Ming’s brushstrokes were deliberate, his tone casual. “Have you prepared for the challenges ahead?”

At this, Pei Wenxuan’s expression softened slightly. “Thanking Your Majesty for your concern—though my experience may be limited, I have the support of senior officials in the Ministry of Personnel and connections forged during my time in the Censorate. Your Majesty need not worry.”

Li Ming observed the faint glimmer of ambition in Pei Wenxuan’s eyes and pressed further, his tone almost paternal. “However, as Pingle’s consort, your position is delicate. She has made many enemies at court, and the Ministry of Personnel is filled with the Xie family’s faction. Your promotion there may invite relentless opposition.” He paused, then offered benignly, “Perhaps a transfer to the Ministry of Rites would spare you such hardships. What do you think?”

Pei Wenxuan’s face paled instantly.

The Ministry of Personnel and the Ministry of Rites—though both held the rank of Vice Minister—were worlds apart. One was a powerless ceremonial post, while the other held real authority over official appointments.

Pei Wenxuan seemed to wrestle with his emotions before replying stiffly, “Your Majesty is most gracious.”

“Pingle’s Surveillance Bureau also requires assistance,” Li Ming continued, accepting a cup of tea from Fulai. “Serving in the Ministry of Rites would afford you more time to support her. Would that not be ideal?”

Pei Wenxuan’s jaw tightened, his displeasure barely contained, but he managed a stiff bow. “This humble subject thanks Your Majesty for your consideration.”

“Very well.” Li Ming waved a dismissive hand. “You may withdraw.”

“Your servant takes his leave.”

As Pei Wenxuan rose, Li Ming idly stirred his tea, watching the leaves swirl. Pei Wenxuan walked stiffly toward the door—then, after a few steps, halted abruptly.

After a visible internal struggle, he suddenly turned and dropped to his knees with a loud thud, his voice raw with emotion.

“Your Majesty! This subject begs for your judgment!”

Tea sloshed from Li Ming’s cup. He looked up sharply. “What judgment do you seek?”

“Your Majesty—” Pei Wenxuan’s tone was fervent, though his expression, hidden from view, remained icy calm. Through gritted teeth, he forced out the words:

“This subject wishes to divorce Princess Pingle. I implore Your Majesty’s permission!”

If Li Ming wanted him to retreat—then he would take a leap backward.

If the Emperor remained unshaken, he would force him to panic.

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