The Prime Minister’s Darling - Chapter 1445

Chapter 1445: 706 The Truth of That Year (Two Updates)_3

“It wasn’t intentional,” Gu Jiao said. “I heard, but I was thinking about something else; something I was considering before you asked.”

The implication being that she could only respond after finishing her thoughts.

Jing Er Ye, who had never seen such a person before: “…”

“What’s the matter with your horse?” Jing Er Ye asked, pointing at Heifeng Wang.

Gu Jiao had said she was looking for horses, not specifying just one, so Jing Er Ye naturally assumed the other horse was also Gu Jiao’s.

Gu Jiao didn’t explain that Heifeng Wang wasn’t her horse; she just shook her head slightly and said, “I don’t know.”

The Duke, sitting in the carriage, watched Jing Er Ye stupidly talking with Gu Jiao in the rain, trembling with anger.

Jing Er Ye had an umbrella, but Gu Jiao did not.

Fortunately, Jing Er Ye and his older brother were telepathically in sync for once. He said to Gu Jiao, “You live in the outer city, right? With such heavy rain, it won’t stop for a while; why not take shelter in the carriage?”

Gu Jiao turned her head to look at the carriage through the pouring rain.

The Duke sat in the carriage, watching Gu Jiao intently, eyes filled with earnest hope.

Gu Jiao said, “Okay.”

Gu Jiao got into the carriage.

Horse King bit Heifeng Wang’s bridle, and regardless of whether Heifeng Wang was willing, it dragged it along.

The carriage left the deserted Avenue, turned right through an alley, arrived at another Avenue; after a bit, it turned into a hutong and stopped in front of a small mansion.

This mansion was about the same size as the one Gu Jiao and her group had rented. Entering it, there was a front courtyard, passing through the main hall led to the backyard, connected to a row of covered rooms.

Gu Jiao didn’t venture in too deep; she just stopped under the eaves of the first row of houses.

Looking at the Lily flowers filling the courtyard, she felt strangely familiar with the place, as if she had seen it in a dream.

Jing Er Ye moved his older brother, wheelchair and all, to the corridor; their clothes were also somewhat wet.

Jing Er Ye called for a servant, asking him to take Gu Jiao to a wing room to change into dry clothes.

“Wear my older brother’s,” he said, “aside from his clothes there’s just…” Only his sister-in-law’s belongings were left.

He dared not touch his sister-in-law’s belongings; his older brother would kill him for that. Besides, Xiao Liulang was a man and couldn’t wear his sister-in-law’s clothes.

The servants found a set of new clothes for Gu Jiao that the Duke had never worn.

Gu Jiao was tall among women, but next to the Duke’s height, she seemed rather petite, looking particularly like a child who had sneaked into an adult’s clothes, somewhat adorably naive.

When Jing Er Ye finished changing and came out of his older brother’s room, he saw this scene.

He inwardly cursed seeing a ghost, finding it hard to believe he actually thought this boy was cute.

He was supposed to be infuriating, right?

Seething, Jing Er Ye said, “Your horses are in the stable; rest assured, someone is feeding them; they won’t go hungry!”

“Thank you,” Gu Jiao expressed her gratitude.

Jing Er Ye wasn’t accustomed to such politeness; his demeanor immediately softened, and clearing his throat, he said, “My older brother is inviting you over for tea.”

Gu Jiao proceeded to the next room.

Recent conditions for the Duke had slightly improved. Previously, writing a single character was difficult and not always successful, but now he could write three or five in a day, and on a very good day, seven or eight.

…Mostly to scold Jing Er Ye.

On the experience of having a brother deserving a smack.

The wheelchair was taken to be wiped and dried; the Duke sat in an official’s armchair. There were chairs on both his side and opposite him; Jing Er Ye unceremoniously plopped down right opposite his older brother.

This way his older brother could see him. He was so clever!

A murderous look came into the Duke’s eyes.

Jing Er Ye shrank his neck, why did he feel a chill down his spine again?

The Duke couldn’t turn his head, which meant he could not see Gu Jiao sitting beside him.

Gu Jiao, however, didn’t immediately sit down; she first came to his front, knelt on one knee, and took his pulse.

“The pulse is indeed much smoother than before,” Gu Jiao said. “The Duke seems to be recovering well.”

The Duke once again raised his fingertips, this time he didn’t gently tap but dipped them into the tea in his cup, and shakily wrote three words: “You, doing well?”

Gu Jiao said, “I’m fine.”

The Duke wrote again with trembling hands: “Heifeng.”

That was his limit of strength; the last stroke of the character for ‘feng’ (wind) was only half-completed, and sweat beaded on his forehead, trickling down his cheeks and slipping into his collar.

“Huh? What did my older brother write?” Jing Er Ye leaned in, “Heifeng? What’s Heifeng?”

Gu Jiao, however, understood that the Duke probably recognized Heifeng Wang. She said, “It is indeed Prince Han’s Heifeng Wang, but I don’t know why it would go there either.”