AUBTN -Chapter 154 What Kind of Impropriety Is This

The two men who held immense power in the court were now acting like two childish schoolboys, hurting each other in the darkness, each wishing they could stab the other full of holes with their glare.

Just then, a faint snoring sound drifted down from the roof.

Both men fell silent at the same time. They exchanged a glance and saw the same helplessness and reluctant compromise in each other’s eyes.

“Hmph.”

Lu Yan snorted coldly, tapped the tip of his foot on the ground, and leapt up onto the roof.

Shen Jue refused to be outdone. His red robes fluttered as he followed closely behind.

On the rooftop, the two girls had already fallen asleep in each other’s arms. A wine jug had toppled over beside them, its contents spilled all over the tiles.

Yu Qing was still mumbling in her sleep.

“Lu Yan… you big pig’s trotter… I’m going to buy ten little fresh meats…”

Lu Yan’s face darkened even further, but he still gently scooped her up in a bridal carry.

Looking at the defenseless sleeping face in his arms, he let out a soft sigh and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Trying to run?

In this lifetime, you’ll never escape the palm of my hand.

On the other side, Shen Jue crouched down and looked at Su Hewan, who had curled up into a small ball.

Moonlight spilled across her face, making her look especially peaceful.

He reached out, his fingertips lightly tracing the lines of her brows and eyes. His gaze was filled with affection so deep it was almost suffocating—along with an unmistakable obsession.

“Fool.”

He murmured softly and pulled her steadily into his arms.

I want a child too—one who looks like you and like me.

If this imperial power won’t allow it…

Shen Jue glanced toward the direction of the imperial palace, a cold glint flashing in his eyes.

Then we’ll simply change the heavens—what harm would that do?

Each man carried the woman dearest to his heart as they leapt down from the rooftop and returned to their respective rooms.

Early the next morning, Hua Xiangrong hung up a sign announcing that the shop would be closed for half a day.

In the back courtyard, a strategic meeting about the Great Wei Women’s Chamber of Commerce was underway.

“My mission is to spread the concept of women helping women throughout the entire capital!”

Yu Qing shouted boldly, thumping her chest.

Su Hewan sat neatly beside her, calmly flipping through a book of Great Wei’s legal codes.

“You handle the publicity. I’ll take care of the venue and the curriculum. The laws of Great Wei are strict, but institutions like orphanages and charity halls have tax exemptions. We can exploit that loophole—hang up a sheep’s head but sell dog meat… well, not exactly. We’ll operate under the name of a charity hall while actually running a chamber of commerce.”

Yu Qing gave her a thumbs-up.

“A top student really is a top student.”

They got to work immediately.

Over the next few days, the entire capital became restless.

The top-tier VIP clients of Hua Xiangrong—those titled ladies and noble daughters—received mysterious membership invitations from Yu Qing while they were getting their beauty treatments.

“Madam Wang, wouldn’t you like to have your own private savings? Wouldn’t you like to stand tall in front of that deadbeat husband who only knows how to take concubines?”

“Miss Li, your embroidery is exquisite. Are you really satisfied making wedding dresses only for your family? Join the chamber—we’ll teach you how to turn your craft into silver!”

Yu Qing’s mouth was so persuasive she could practically talk the dead back to life—let alone these women who had been trapped in inner courtyards for years, filled with resentment.

In just three days, the words Women’s Chamber of Commerce spread through the capital like they had grown wings.

At the same time, however, an utterly ridiculous scene was unfolding in the back hall of the Northern Command Office of the Imperial Guard.

“Don’t move! If you move again, it’ll smear crooked!”

Holding a small brush, Yu Qing was carefully applying a green, mud-like substance to Lu Yan’s face with intense concentration.

The dignified Commander of the Imperial Guard—the fearsome “Living King of Hell,” Lu Yan—was now sitting stiffly in a chair.

His handsome, cold face had been painted so thoroughly that only two rolling eyeballs remained visible, making him look like a green-shelled turtle.

“This… what exactly is this?” Lu Yan’s voice was tight, his facial muscles feeling like they were contracting.

“This is the Deep-Sea Green Algae Revitalizing Mud, Flower Xiangrong’s new product! And you’re the very first to try it—aren’t you touched?” Yu Qing said as she tapped his nose with a fingertip, grinning like a mischievous cat.

Lu Yan looked at the comical version of himself in the mirror and sighed helplessly, though his eyes were full of indulgence: “I won’t move.”

“Pfft—” Yu Qing burst out laughing.

“Not bad, Lord Lu. Looks like you can even play with puns now!”

Suddenly, she leaned closer, her nose almost touching his, her warm breath brushing against his face. “But since you’re being so good, I’ll give you a little reward.”

With that, she planted a kiss on his exposed lips, completely unconcerned that mud smeared on her own.

Lu Yan’s gaze darkened. He grabbed the back of her head to deepen the kiss, but Yu Qing pushed him away with a laugh.

“Oh no! The mask isn’t dry yet! It’ll crack!”

Watching the little girl wriggle away like a slippery eel, Lu Yan wiped the disgusting mud off his face and chuckled softly.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere at Yuyuan was far more tender.

Inside the apothecary, the scent of herbs floated through the air.

Shen Jue leaned against the soft couch, his robe slightly open, revealing delicate collarbones and faint, hidden scars.

He stared at the bowl of dark herbal liquid before him, frowning in disgust.

“I won’t drink it.”

This master of power, whose influence reached both court and state, was acting as childish as a three-year-old when it came to taking medicine.

Su Hewan held the bowl of herbs, her tone gentle yet firm: “This is to nourish your old injuries. You must drink it. Your body has been seriously depleted these past few years.”

Shen Jue’s eyes darkened with a teasing glint: “Depleted? Wanwan, do you want to test whether I’m really depleted?”

Su Hewan froze for a moment, then burst out laughing!

【This guy, with a straight face while making such a dirty joke, was impossible to resist!】

She playfully tapped him and changed her wording: “If you want… to live a long life with me, then just drink it obediently.”

The moment he heard “with me,” Shen Jue’s eyes softened instantly.

He took the bowl, tilted his head back, and drank it all at once. The bitterness spread immediately across his mouth.

“Bitter,” he said, tossing the empty bowl aside. His phoenix-like eyes squinted slightly, tinged with a bit of grievance as he looked at Su Hewan.

Just as Su Hewan reached for some candied fruit, her wrist was suddenly grabbed.

She fell into a slightly cool embrace.

Before she could react, Shen Jue’s lips had already covered hers.

The bitterness of the herbs, mingled with his unique icy, aromatic scent, instantly stole her breath away.

The kiss was possessive and full of passion, as if to transform all that bitterness into a sweetness entwined with her.

After a long while, their lips parted.

Shen Jue licked the corner of his mouth with satisfaction, looking at the woman blushing in his arms, his voice husky: “Not bitter anymore.”

“You…” Su Hewan panted, glaring at him, though the glare carried no real threat.

“Rascal.”

Shen Jue laughed softly, fingers twining through her hair: “I’m a rascal, and you’re the rascal’s wife. A perfect match by birth.”

However, these warm days were always fleeting.

As preparations for the Women’s Guild progressed, opposition came in like a tide.

Led by those pedantic scholars and stubborn old aristocratic families, the old-fashioned critics reacted as if their ancestral graves had been dug up, shouting furiously.

“A hen cackling at dawn! Women and petty people are the hardest to raise!”

“Exposing oneself in public—what a disgrace! It’s morally corrupt!”

“Witch! Nothing but restless women!”

Faced with these insults, Su Hewan merely smiled faintly. She collected the newspapers with their scolding headlines and pasted them on the walls of the guild.

“Let them shout. The louder they yell, the more it proves we’ve hit their sore spots.”