Crying While Filling the Pit I Dug - Chapter 66

Yi Qing seemed a bit disheartened, his voice gradually lowering, “Oh, I see.”

Song Miaomiao nodded, “Yes, exactly!”

Yi Qing added softly, “But, Princess, you’ll have to get used to it eventually. After all, we’ll be together for a lifetime.”

His reasoning was so sound that Song Miaomiao was left speechless.

Just as Song Miaomiao was pondering how to come up with more excuses, Yi Qing had already laid down, his arms encircling her.

And once again, they harmonized.

Song Miaomiao didn’t want to get up again.

[System Oppa, how will this plot develop? When will it be over? When can I go back?]

System Oppa: [The system will determine the end of the plot. When the plot of the novel is rich enough and the content is detailed enough, at the appropriate plot point, the Lujiang Literature will stop recording the plot, and then you will automatically enter the next novel. A world where holes are dug but not filled.]

What the system said was the same as saying nothing.

She couldn’t check the text recorded on Lujiang Literature, and the plot had become so distorted. She couldn’t grasp the descriptions of the male lead or the development of the relationship between him and the female lead, Gu Jiaren. Song Miaomiao pondered, perhaps this was actually a lengthy novel. Despite the abundance of apparent plot points, it might not actually amount to much substance.

The more Song Miaomiao contemplated, the more plausible it seemed. But why would the male lead act in such a manner? Showering a female supporting character with such kindness wasn’t characteristic of a qualified male lead! Could it be to incite jealousy in the female lead, Gu Jiaren? Perhaps there was a rift between them, and the male lead was deliberately being overly kind to another woman to provoke jealousy in the female lead.

Yet, in the Princess Mansion, Gu Jiaren couldn’t even gain entry, leaving her with nothing to be envious of.

If that were truly the case, he would be a scumbag if he used kindness towards another woman to provoke jealousy in the one he loved.

“Princess,” Yi Qing whispered softly in Song Miaomiao’s ear once more.

Not wanting to confront it all, she shut her eyes lazily and murmured, “I don’t want to get up yet.”

Yi Qing gently kissed her forehead, then dressed himself and retrieved his sword. “Rest a while longer; I’m heading out to practice swordsmanship.”

Practice swordsmanship? Song Miaomiao’s eyes snapped open, and she hurriedly dressed, making her way towards the door.

Yi Qing, dressed in white, executed a graceful sword dance, his movements fluid and effortless. Catching sight of Song Miaomiao at the doorway, he smiled faintly, continuing his motions with unwavering focus. The sword he wielded was the one she had gifted him.

Song Miaomiao leaned against the doorframe, hand pressed to her lips in shock. That… was Ling Qianyi!

“They’re not the same! They’re not the same!” She repeated to herself, desperately clinging to the notion that Ling Qianyi had been by her side for nearly a decade, a vulnerable orphan who had lost his family to slaughter, while Yi Qing, with his lineage, had entered her life only six months prior, a renowned general’s son with wealth and prestige. They merely bore a striking resemblance.

Lost in her self-reassurance, Song Miaomiao failed to notice Yi Qing approaching. With a fine sheen of sweat upon his brow, he spoke softly, “Princess, take care not to catch a cold.”

She gazed into his eyes. Yes, he addressed her as the Princess; in his eyes, she wasn’t the little mute Song Wanyu but the Princess.

Perhaps it was because she had been looking at him for too long, yearning to unravel everything, or perhaps it was due to his recent exercise, causing his blood to rush, making him blush once more as he softly uttered, “Princess.”

The word ‘Princess’ resonated like a delicate string, causing a gentle flutter in Song Miaomiao’s heart. She struggled to suppress the unfamiliar emotion, tearing her gaze away from him and retreating to the bedroom to fetch another dress.

After lunch, Xiao Chengqi arrived.

As usual, he brought along a lot of gifts, including a rattle. Xiao Chengqi shook the rattle in his hand and chuckled, “Sister, this isn’t for you; it’s for my nephew. I bought it in advance.”

Yi Qing once again resembled an embarrassed and bashful boy.

Song Miaomiao, at a loss for words, remarked, “Brother, what’s on your mind?”

Xiao Chengqi quipped, “Oh? Shouldn’t you be able to guess?”

A smile twinkled in Yi Qing’s eyes as he replied, “Thank you, Prince.”

Song Miaomiao felt a wave of exasperation wash over her.

With a grin, Xiao Chengqi continued, “Alright, I’ll stop teasing you. Sister, I’ve come to borrow him from you for a while. Will you allow it?”

Song Miaomiao looked puzzled. “What do you need him for?”

“I won’t tell you,” Xiao Chengqi turned to Yi Qing, adding, “Heng Zheng, don’t spill the beans!”

Song Miaomiao responded coolly, “If you won’t say, then don’t say.”

Xiao Chengqi thrust the rattle into Song Miaomiao’s hands and winked at Yi Qing. “Well then, my brother-in-law, let’s go!”

Yi Qing glanced at Song Miaomiao. “Princess?”

Song Miaomiao blinked in confusion. Did he really need to ask for permission to leave?

Waving her hand dismissively, she said, “Go on, have fun, you two.”

Xiao Chengqi reassured her, “Sister, don’t worry. I’ll make sure to return him!”

Song Miaomiao didn’t bother engaging in conversation with him, nor did she inquire about their activities. Perhaps it was just the two men enjoying themselves outside.

When Yi Qing returned in the evening, he brought Song Miaomiao another pile of scripts.

“Princess, the bookstore owner said that these are the best-selling stories of this period.”

Song Miaomiao was practicing calligraphy and meditation, holding a brush dipped in ink. As she looked at the thick book, she suddenly remembered, “Did you also buy the storybooks you gave me last time from that same store?”

Yi Qing shook his head. “No, I visited every store in the capital and bought all the best-selling story books to give to you.”

Every store? Song Miaomiao’s hand shook, causing a drop of ink from the brush to fall onto the pure white paper, forming an ink blossom.

Yi Qing continued, “I don’t understand these stories, nor have I researched them much. I only heard from the bookseller that girls like to read them. While browsing in one store, I happened upon ‘Wu Shuang Ji’, a story you also love, which was adapted into a drama during the Spring Festival.”

Misunderstanding! She didn’t like those books at all. This set would probably end up gathering dust on the shelf. Indeed, in the long years to come, Song Miaomiao rarely flipped through these books in front of Yi Qing. When she did, it was merely a casual glance; she could never truly get into them.