Lu Yan’s refusal was already at the tip of his tongue.
But looking at Jiang Sheng’s shining eyes, he seemed somehow unable to say it.
In the end, resigned, he gritted his teeth and agreed.
In truth, he regretted it before they even got home.
On the ride back, Jiang Sheng cradled the puppy the whole way, muttering about what to name it.
Finally he thought for a moment and asked Lu Yan, “Do you have any ideas?”
Lu Yan lifted one of the puppy’s big floppy ears. “Just call him Chaochao. Something tells me he’ll never know a quiet moment.”
The puppy stared up at him with big innocent eyes.
Jiang Sheng huffed and batted Lu Yan’s hand away. “Daddy is so mean. Let’s ignore him.”
Lu Yan laughed. “I’m Daddy? Then what are you?”
Jiang Sheng thought about it, head tilting. “…Little Daddy?”
He hugged Chaochao and kissed the puppy’s forehead, murmuring and fussing—and he really did look the part of a little daddy with a newborn.
Lu Yan’s gaze went dark where it rested on Jiang Sheng.
He had stuffed Jiang Sheng’s little belly round more times than he could count, and yet here he was, thinking: if Jiang Sheng really did carry a baby…
No. No.
Lu Yan crushed the thought in the same instant.
He could not accept another person—anyone—competing for Jiang Sheng’s embrace. Even if that someone would be his and Jiang Sheng’s own child.
Lu Yan suspected he truly might be broken.
The carriage had barely stopped when Jiang Sheng, still not done cuddling the puppy, was scooped up by Lu Yan and tossed to Cheng Jing behind them.
“Hey, hey—” Jiang Sheng twisted around. “What are you doing?!”
Lu Yan simply picked the man up and carried him inside. “Let them handle it. It’s late. I’m putting the Princess Consort to bed.”
Jiang Sheng: “…”
He could well imagine what kind of “putting to bed” this would be.
Lu Yan bathed his Wife. A few days ago he’d gotten his hands on a new novelty—had someone compound a Fragrant Balm, sweet osmanthus-scented, something like modern body lotion, non-sticky on the skin. Jiang Sheng loved it and demanded Lu Yan apply it every night.
Lu Yan could not have been more delighted.
Honestly, who else gets luck like this?
A blessing dropped straight into his lap.
This nightly ritual was the moment he anticipated most all day. The milky-white balm melted between his palms first, then smoothed over Jiang Sheng’s body. After days of feeding him, Jiang Sheng had finally put on a little flesh, though his waist was still impossibly slim—just a handspan—but his thighs and bottom had gone plump and round.
The man’s large hands pressed down gently, his breathing deepening, eyes darkening. The fragrance rose around them, and the feel under his palms was like fine mutton-fat jade—enough to make his thoughts stray badly.
He cleared his throat. “Baby, shall we—”
Before he could finish, the noise outside interrupted.
“Wer wer wer…”
Jiang Sheng’s head shot up. “Is that Chaochao barking?”
The veins at Lu Yan’s temples pulsed. He drew a deep breath. “Ignore him. The steward will look after him.”
“But…”
No buts.
Your Husband is locked, loaded, and ready.
Lu Yan pressed Jiang Sheng’s little head back down, his large hand sliding down his spine to his waist. He’d barely kneaded twice and was testing lower when the barking outside rang out again.
Louder each time.
Jiang Sheng struggled up. “No… Husband, I have to go check. Chaochao just got here—he must be scared.”
Lu Yan: “…”
He poked Jiang Sheng in the waist, voice dark with menace. “Are you going to take care of your Husband, or not?”
Jiang Sheng’s attention was entirely captured by the puppy outside. He answered absently, “I’m going to check on Chaochao. You can rub one out yourself.”
Lu Yan: “?”
And then Jiang Sheng tossed his own little undershirt to Lu Yan, magnanimous. “You can sniff this too.”
“…”
He pushed open the door and stepped into the courtyard—and the sound was instantly louder. The manor had no doghouse, so the steward had hastily built one, but whether Chaochao disapproved or what, he’d thrown his head back and started howling.
By the time Jiang Sheng came out draped in his robe, Chaochao was mid-performance, howling at full power. The moment he saw Jiang Sheng, he cut off abruptly.
Jiang Sheng crouched down beside him. “What’s wrong? Doesn’t your throat hurt, crying like that?”
Chaochao nudged closer and bumped his head against Jiang Sheng, whining low.
Jiang Sheng blinked. “You want to sleep with me, don’t you?”
Chaochao blinked.
Jiang Sheng muttered, “But Daddy might not agree. He’s so stingy. Let me wipe you off first, and then we’ll beg Daddy together, okay?”
Chaochao understood nothing, but he clearly adored Jiang Sheng, crowding against him, tail wagging nonstop.
Jiang Sheng picked him up, had someone bring a cloth to wipe the puppy’s paws, and carried him back inside.
Lu Yan sat on the edge of the bed, robes pulled around him, face visibly black.
Hearing the door, he looked up—and seeing the puppy still in Jiang Sheng’s arms, his face grew blacker. “Why are you carrying that thing?!”
Jiang Sheng looked at him innocently, took the puppy’s paw, and made them both bow to Lu Yan together. “Daddy says we can come sleep on the bed. Please, please.”
Lu Yan pressed a hand to his forehead.
He deeply regretted it. He should have steeled his heart back then and refused to let Jiang Sheng bring the dog home.
The puppy marched straight into the inner sanctum, carried onto the bed by Jiang Sheng himself.
Truthfully, a little puppy didn’t take up much room—but Jiang Sheng insisted on holding him. Lu Yan said through gritted teeth, “If you’re holding him, where do I sleep?”
Jiang Sheng hugged the puppy. “Next to us, I guess.”
Lu Yan was livid.
Heartless little thing. Not one word of concern for how his Husband had just been left to handle himself.
Furious, he sat off to the side and didn’t move—for the first time, determined to wait until Jiang Sheng came over soft and sweet to coax him. He waited a while, then turned his head: Jiang Sheng, puppy in arms, was already fast asleep.
“…”
Face cold, Lu Yan quietly picked Chaochao up. Jiang Sheng slept like the dead, but Chaochao woke at the slightest movement—eyes bulging, mouth opening to howl. Lu Yan’s hand clamped over the muzzle first.
“Shut it! Try waking my Wife and see what happens!” Lu Yan threatened without a shred of mercy, then pointed at the foot of the bed. “Sleep over there.”
Strangely, Chaochao seemed to genuinely understand. The moment Lu Yan released him, he trotted obediently to the corner, curled into a ball, and went to sleep.
Lu Yan was grudgingly satisfied, gathered his Wife, and sank into sleep.
Thus ended the first night of the family of three sharing one bed.
Before Jiang Sheng came, the manor had been a pool of dead water—a stone thrown in couldn’t raise a ripple.
Since Jiang Sheng arrived, the manor had finally come alive, with one unstoppable Kitty tearing around everywhere daily, making Lu Yan’s greatest daily task the hunting-down of the cat.
And now, with a dog added to the household, Lu Yan had officially achieved the blessed state of cat-and-dog completeness.
Chaochao had boundless energy, matching or exceeding even Jiang Sheng—which meant Lu Yan no longer feared coming home from court to find his person missing. Ask where he was, and the answer was: walking the dog.
The Seventh Prince was lodged at the Capital’s Post Station. He had no need to attend court, and he timed his visit carefully, coming to the manor while Lu Yan was out.
The steward accepted his calling card with some difficulty. “Our Prince is not at home…”
The Seventh Prince smiled. “No matter. I’ve come to pay my respects to the Princess Consort.”
At those words, the steward’s guard shot up.
The Prince had instructed them repeatedly: anyone who came calling for the Princess Consort was a schemer, and was not to be admitted casually.
The steward chose his words carefully. “Perhaps… you might wait for the Prince to return—”
“Princess Consort!”
The Seventh Prince suddenly called out.
The steward turned—and found Jiang Sheng walking the dog right into the courtyard. Jiang Sheng was panting, dragged all over the grounds by Chaochao since early morning, legs gone weak. He looked up, startled. “S-Seventh Prince.”
“No need for formality. Just call me Mula.”
He strolled right in. “Actually, I only came to see how the puppy is settling in. After all, he was my gift—I ought to see it through.”
Jiang Sheng couldn’t help complaining, “He’s well behaved enough, just has too much energy. Every day I—”
Before he could finish, Chaochao took off again, dragging Jiang Sheng along at a run, his voice carrying on the wind. “Let’s talk while we run, then!”
“…”
Mula accompanied Jiang Sheng on a full lap of the manor grounds, and between them they finally wore the dog out. Both of them collapsed into chairs, exhausted, drinking tea.
Mula was not favored in Western Fan. He had come to court hoping to find an ally in the North-Guarding Prince. He’d done his homework: the North-Guarding Prince was immune to both soft persuasion and hard force, arrogant beyond measure—with one exception. He doted utterly on his wife. And so Mula had set his sights on Jiang Sheng, planning to win the Princess Consort’s favor and thereby climb up to the Prince.
He had not expected Jiang Sheng to be… this.
So relentlessly hyper.
Since sitting down, Mula had managed one sip of tea and not a single word of his own—Jiang Sheng’s little mouth simply never stopped. He asked about Western Fan’s customs and landscapes; before Mula could answer one question, the next was already tumbling out.
By the end, Mula’s lips were flecked with foam from exhaustion.
When Lu Yan returned, he found the two of them holding forth in the courtyard, and his face went dark at once as he strode over. “What’s so fascinating? You’re both so happy.”
His gaze on Mula was openly hostile.
He’d guessed long ago this man had ulterior motives.
The man planted himself behind Jiang Sheng’s chair, hands braced on either armrest, eyes boring into the visitor.
Mula had arrived with a whole speech prepared.
But he was now so tired he could only wave his hands, not wanting to say half a word. “I have matters to attend to. I won’t disturb the Prince and Princess Consort further.”
Once the man was gone, Lu Yan gave a cold snort. “Runs the moment he sees me. Definitely up to something.”
Jiang Sheng: “?”
Lu Yan scooped the man up into his arms. “He’s not a good person. Keep your distance.”
Jiang Sheng huffed. “In your eyes, everyone except me is a bad person.”
Well. That part was true.
Lu Yan always felt the world outside was full of hungry eyes, all waiting to steal his cat.
The weather outside grew colder by the day. Lu Yan held Jiang Sheng in the pavilion, and before they knew it, snow had begun falling in the courtyard.
Jiang Sheng said softly, “New Year’s almost here.”
Lu Yan made a low sound of acknowledgment.
Before Jiang Sheng returned to his side, he had all but despised the New Year—a season for family reunion, and his Wife was never at his side.
Jiang Sheng seemed lost in thought, only reacting when Lu Yan took his fingers and nibbled them a few times. “My gege is here too. Let’s have him come for New Year as well.”
Lu Yan laughed. “Then you may need to invite one more person.”
Jiang Sheng stared at him blankly. “Huh? I have a sister-in-law?”
Lu Yan cupped his bottom and carried him back toward the house. “Brother-in-law would be the more accurate term.”
Jiang Sheng: “???! “
Since transmigrating to ancient times, the greatest inconvenience between the two of them was the absence of protection—though truthfully, they’d often gone without back then too, mostly at Jiang Sheng’s request. He felt it was uncomfortable, blocking him from being truly close with his Husband.
But afterward, when Lu Yan cleaned him up, he’d complain about the hassle. Once, before Lu Yan finished, Jiang Sheng got angry and wouldn’t let him continue. Lu Yan indulged him—but the next day Jiang Sheng came down with a fever. From then on, Lu Yan was diligent without fail, insisting on cleaning him out thoroughly every single time.
The other lack was toys. Lu Yan was a bit old-fashioned in temperament and disliked such things, while Jiang Sheng bought them constantly—half out of curiosity, half specifically to annoy Lu Yan. Until one day he genuinely pushed Lu Yan too far, and Lu Yan went out and bought a whole collection of remote-controlled ones and used every last one on Jiang Sheng.
Good heavens.
Jiang Sheng didn’t give him a kind look for days.
Jiang Sheng had privately lamented that this era had so few amusements and so little variety—until today, when the Seventh Prince’s visit brought gifts: beyond the mountain of gold and jewels, one small box.
Jiang Sheng remembered Mula specifically telling him it was a secret treasure of the Western Fan imperial court.
He’d assumed it was some health tonic or elixir—instead, opening the box revealed a pile of bizarre contraptions he couldn’t make heads or tails of.
He picked up a string of little bells and asked Lu Yan, “Husband, what is this thing?”
Lu Yan glanced over at the sound, and his expression turned very strange.
Jiang Sheng was still studying the object when Lu Yan strolled over, unhurried, and said in a low voice, “Want to know, Baby? I can teach you.”
“Step one: take off your pants.”
