The servants in the Prince's Mansion are well-trained and keep their mouths shut, and no one would dare to disclose the "private affair" between the two.
He held her in his arms and walked through the corridors until they came to the dining area.
The table was already filled with her favorite meals.
Su Jingyao sat on the chair and ate in small bites.
Jun Zechen seemed to suddenly remember something and frowned slightly.
"Has Minghui been bullying you for the past two years? Is she planning to beat you today?"
Minghui had always acted pitiful in front of her mother, and relied on her status to do whatever she wanted outside the palace.
Fortunately, nothing serious happened, and Jun Zechen was good at pleasing his mother, so he turned a blind eye.
"Princess Minghui is Brother Zechen's sister, how could she bully me? It's my fault."
Su Jingyao lowered her head slightly so that Jun Zechen couldn't see her expression, and started chatting again.
When Jun Zechen heard the familiar tone, he felt a little confused and couldn't help but look at her a few more times.
"Didn't I give you a token? Don't let others bully you without knowing how to fight back."
"If I use the crown prince's token to rebel against Princess Minghui, and Princess Minghui complains to the Empress, I will be in big trouble. If I go to His Majesty, he will definitely help his daughter. How can a little girl like me dare to rebel against the princess?"
"I am not like the princess who has a brother like you, the crown prince, and the Empress and His Majesty as her backers. Since you are not in the capital, I can only let the princess bully me."
Su Jingyao raised her head, her eyes filled with grievance.
Jun Zechen stared in deep thought, tapping the table lightly with his fingers.
What Yaoyao said made sense, he came back too late.
Minghui is old enough and it’s time for her to get married.
"In a few days, let mother hold a wedding banquet for Minghui. She is already sixteen or seventeen years old. Finding a prince consort will help her control her temper and let the prince consort discipline her properly."
Jun Zechen's tone was firm and his eyes revealed decisiveness.
The prince consort controls the princess? Can he?
"Okay, Brother Zechen is really a 'good brother'."
"But if the Queen Mother organizes this banquet, it will most likely be held in the Imperial Palace, and the young men and women from the aristocratic families will also be invited."
His eyes were deep as he pondered over every detail of the banquet.
Although the purpose is to select a consort for the princess, it is of course not possible to just let these young masters of noble families stand in a row at a banquet and let the princess choose. That would be too embarrassing for these young masters.
"Will I go too?"
Jun Zechen naturally didn't want her to go. If she went to the banquet, wouldn't those men today also be there, except Yan Shuhan who was transferred away by him.
But his mother would definitely invite the Su family. He hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
If he didn't let her go, she would probably not agree.
He added, "I will go there when the time comes."
"Doesn't Brother Zechen dislike attending banquets?"
"I don't like attending a party without you."
Su Jingyao lowered her head shyly, but another idea suddenly popped up in her mind.
He asked tentatively: "Does Miss Qi, who followed Brother Zechen today, like Brother Zechen?"
Jun Zechen also thought of Qi Wanyin because of her question.
Or let Qi Wanyin and Minghui choose their husbands together to avoid any trouble in the future?
"There are many women who like me, but I only like you. Qi Wanyin is about the same age as Minghui. I will ask my mother to prepare for both of them."
Su Jingyao lowered her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling slightly, concealing the emotions in her eyes.
If Jun Zechen had taken the initiative to choose a husband for Qi Wanyin, the Queen would not have wanted to grant a marriage between Qi Wanyin and Jun Zechen.
But my brother won't be back in Beijing for another month, so he might not be able to attend...
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