The Slender Waist-Chapter 802 - 570: The Imperial Edict to Relocate the Capital

Chapter 802: Chapter 570: The Imperial Edict to Relocate the Capital

Aozai slipped away from Huaxi less than a quarter-hour after returning.

Xiaoman chuckled, "He must have gone to find his little wife again."

The maids busied themselves with cleaning, giggling in delight.

Feng Yun lazily sat down, glanced at them, propped her hand on her forehead, and waved her hand dizzily. "Prepare the water, let me wash up and take a nap first."

The maids responded in unison.

Feng Yun raised her eyes again and instructed Xiaoman.

"This journey has been exhausting. In the coming days, see to it that no one disturbs me."

Xiaoman was slightly taken aback.

In the past, whenever Mistress returned from a trip, she would rush to meet the stewards of various shops and establishments, personally review the account books one by one, and never mentioned tiredness.

Why was she so fatigued this time?

Since last month, Mistress had become noticeably distant toward her.

Previously, household matters were all left in her charge, and Mistress never avoided her. But now, Mistress often kept her at arm’s length—especially during certain days of a woman’s monthly cycle—acting cautiously as if fearing some contamination...

Xiaoman felt a slight pang of disappointment.

She never expected that Mistress, once worn out, would retreat into seclusion, rarely venturing out again. Her vitality seemed diminished, and she no longer liked having maids around to attend to her. She often stayed alone in her room for long hours without seeing anyone.

Even those in Changmen saw her less frequently.

Conversely, Yao Ru had visited her room twice within ten days to check her Ping An Pulse. Each time, they were locked inside for one or two hours, acting mysteriously...

This left everyone feeling anxious.

Could it be that Mistress was hiding a life-threatening illness from them?

Or perhaps...

Was she disheartened over the Emperor’s failure to establish an Empress?

Chunyu Yan had been given a cold shoulder by Feng Yun on the very day she returned and had sulked for half a month, not bothering to visit again. On the day he was leaving Andu, he overheard these rumors, changed his plans, returned to Yun Village, and had Quding prepare the business account ledgers before seeking an audience.

Feng Yun graciously received him in the study.

"I apologize for the long wait, Princely Heir."

"Xiaoman, serve the tea—"

She sat leisurely behind the wooden desk, her posture relaxed, with a faint smile playing at the corners of her lips.

A breeze drifted in through the floral lattice window, carrying the scent of blossoms as it brushed across her pale jade-like face, a softness that defied words.

Confronted by that smile, Chunyu Yan’s simmering anger instantly dissolved.

"Feng Shi Er... are you alright?"

He suspected Feng Shi Er had lost her mind.

Or perhaps Pei Jue had driven her mad.

He smiled faintly, his habitual, teasing tone meant to console her.

"You’ve changed since returning from Xijing. Why are you behaving so strangely? Are you unwell?"

Feng Yun chuckled lightly. "I’ve been feeling a bit lethargic lately. Forgive my poor hospitality, but there’s no need to curse me, Princely Heir."

Chunyu Yan choked and turned his gaze away.

"Who’s cursing you? I’m just concerned..."

He looked visibly uncomfortable, and a peculiar redness rose to his ears.

This wasn’t what he had intended to say...

Chunyu Yan had always been the unfeeling and indifferent sort—how could he care about anyone?

Yet, unbidden, the words had slipped out.

His heart raced at that moment, and he dared not meet Feng Yun’s gaze.

Feng Yun slightly furrowed her brow. "What is the meaning of this, Princely Heir? We’ve known each other for years. Matters of business should simply follow protocol. In the future, handle matters as you see fit. There’s no need to consult me further."

Chunyu Yan froze, turning his head to look at her, a faint sneer escaping his lips.

"You just don’t want to see me."

Feng Yun’s expression went blank, her glittering eyes fixed him with an unwavering gaze.

Chunyu Yan paused, startled. "Did I say something wrong?"

Feng Yun replied, "Princely Heir, I am now a married woman. Such ambiguous remarks are improper and may give rise to gossip. Please refrain from saying them in the future."

Chunyu Yan felt as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped onto his burning chest.

All his concern now felt like a joke.

And creeping up from his heels was a chilling, inexplicable fear.

In the past, he had often jested, and Feng Shi Er would rebuff him with words sharper than today’s, even scold or mock him. Yet never before had he felt what he felt now.

This time was different.

Feng Yun’s cold, distant gaze, her expression that kept him at bay, was unlike anything he had known before.

Chunyu Yan suddenly felt as if the person before him was no longer Feng Shi Er at all.

Not the Feng Shi Er he kept in his heart.

"It seems times have certainly changed. Perhaps I should start addressing you as ’Empress,’ then?"

She hadn’t officially been appointed, yet every word of his dripped with mockery.

Feng Yun cast him a glance, her brow lightly arched, a faint smile curving her lips.

"I appreciate your kind words. Let us hope that day comes."

As their eyes met, Chunyu Yan saw the fiery gleam in hers, and his heart turned ice cold. That uncalled-for mocking tone surged uncontrollably to the surface.

"Feng Shi Er, so you’re no different from the rest. Did Pei Wangzhi’s ascension enchant your very soul? Tell me, do you truly love him as a man, or are you in love with the power in his hands?"