Chapter Thirty-Seven: The Eldest Brother's Headache

"I haven't been there yet; it should be quite interesting." It would be the perfect opportunity to bring Xiao Yan along. As for the love story of the main characters, she would be its guardian!

Meng Chuyue nodded. "Very well, we'll go in a few days."

Her expression shifted slightly. "My father said the royal hunt is approaching soon. Will you go, Yuanyuan?"

"No," Shen Nanyuan replied, "I'm not interested in such things. I'll just feign illness and not attend. As long as my brother is there, it doesn't matter whether I go or not—nobody cares anyway."

Hearing this, Meng Chuyue's lips curled into a faint smile. She had never attended before and always found it dull, especially for women like them who could do nothing there. Yet this time, she felt a little tempted.

"Come with me, Yuanyuan." Her eyes crinkled with a gentle smile. "With just the two of us, it should be less tedious. Besides, it's my first time, and I'd feel more at ease with you there."

Shen Nanyuan was instantly conflicted. There was another reason she didn't want to go—the incident with the Second Prince last time. Jun Ci's words had not been without reason; she did feel some unease.

After a moment's thought, she gently shook her head. "I'd better not go. Next time, I promise."

Next time—that ever-useful promise.

Meng Chuyue was somewhat disappointed. "Very well."

Her health was still not fully restored and she needed rest, so Shen Nanyuan didn't linger. After a brief conversation, she prepared to leave.

The maidservant accompanying Meng Chuyue escorted them to the gate. Along the way, they passed several hurried servants who didn't notice them.

"The eldest miss is smashing things again, cursing the second miss—it's hard to listen to."

"Master has long been angered by her, and her reputation is ruined. I doubt the Prime Minister's estate will have an eldest miss for much longer."

"Of course not. The second miss is renowned for her talent in the capital. I imagine she'll be managing this courtyard before long."

Shen Nanyuan didn’t pause, following the maid at a measured pace.

What they said was true. In the original story, after the mistress was confined, the Prime Minister gradually handed all authority over to Meng Chuyue.

Seeing this, the legitimate daughter realized she had no more chances. Utterly discouraged, she fell into despondency and melancholy. In the end, she found herself a marriage and left.

Meng Chuyue later became Empress, and the Prime Minister could barely contain his joy. Meng Chuyue’s mother, elevated by her daughter’s status, gained even greater influence in the household—truly a winner in life.

However, the longer Shen Nanyuan remained here, the more she realized she was forgetting parts of the original plot, remembering only the general direction of the story. But it didn’t matter; the events to come had little to do with her. Once Xiao Yan returned to the palace, he would have nothing more to do with her.

For now, though, there were still plenty of troubles at hand.

Shen Nanyuan stood before Shen Sinian, hands on her hips, fuming as she looked at Xiao Yan, who, supported by her brother, now lay drunk on the bed—her anger barely contained.

“How does one train in martial arts and end up learning to get drunk instead?”

Shen Sinian sheepishly rubbed his nose. “We’ve been a bit tired lately and had some drinks to relax. Who knew he couldn’t hold his liquor and would pass out so quickly?”

He feigned misery, pinching his brow. “Yuanyuan, brother has a headache.”

“You deserve it!” Shen Nanyuan looked down at him, the scent of alcohol wafting from him even from a distance—he’d clearly been drinking all afternoon.

Though irritated, she turned to Qingrui. “Go ask Uncle Li to prepare some sobering soup.”

“Yes, miss.”

Shen Sinian arched a brow with a grin. “Yuanyuan still cares for her brother.”

Shen Nanyuan all but rolled her eyes to the heavens.

She grumbled, “If Xiao Yan hadn't passed out, you two would still be drinking now. He wasn't like this before—you’re a bad influence. You may feel fine now, but just wait until you sober up and your head is pounding. Serves you right…”

Shen Sinian massaged his temples as she spoke. His head was already starting to ache.

Without another word, he rose and, glancing at her, said, “Let them bring the sobering soup to my room later. I’m tired and want to rest.”

When had he ever realized his sister could be so relentless?

She was giving him a headache with her nagging.

With that, Shen Sinian fled. The smell of alcohol lingered in the room. Shen Nanyuan gave a soft harrumph, then turned to look at Xiao Yan, who was sound asleep on the bed.

She instructed Jin Zhu, “Bring a basin of water.”

Sleeping, Xiao Yan looked well-behaved, almost boyish. Normally, he was so calm and reserved that Shen Nanyuan nearly forgot he was not much older than herself.

Jin Zhu brought in the water and set it by the bed. She soaked a cloth, wrung it out, and gently wiped Xiao Yan’s face.

Shen Nanyuan watched, having thought to do it herself, but after seeing Jin Zhu’s careful actions, she left it be. Her current status made it inappropriate for her to do such things.

When Xiao Yan awoke, night had fallen completely. The room was softly illuminated by candlelight.

His head throbbed painfully as he sat up in bed, realizing he was in his own quarters.

At the table not far off sat a blurry figure, seemingly reading. He squinted, and the person gradually came into focus—it was Shen Nanyuan.

Bathed in the gentle glow, her hair shimmered with a radiant sheen. She read with such concentration that, simply by sitting there, she brought an inexplicable sense of peace.

Xiao Yan pinched the space between his brows and was about to get out of bed when Shen Nanyuan finally noticed him. She hastily closed her book and said, “Don’t get up.”

As she approached, a sweet, cloying fragrance drifted to his nose, soothing even his headache. “That’s what you get for drinking so much. Your head must be aching, isn’t it?”

“Uncle Li is warming the sobering soup—it’ll be ready soon. Bear with it a bit longer.”

Meeting her bright, clear eyes, Xiao Yan replied in a slightly hoarse voice, “Miss, why haven’t you gone to rest?”

“I wasn’t tired, so I stayed to read.” She sat by the bed, her gaze full of concern. “You’ll feel better after drinking the soup.”

She smiled. “Uncle Li was afraid it would cool before you woke, so he’s reheating it. It should be ready any moment.”

As she finished speaking, footsteps sounded outside. Uncle Li entered, and upon seeing Xiao Yan awake, urged, “You’re up? Drink this quickly—your head will feel better soon.”

Shen Nanyuan didn’t relax until she watched Xiao Yan drink the entire bowl of sobering soup. She returned to the table, picked up her book, and said, “Rest now. If your head still aches tomorrow, don’t go to my brother’s place.”