Transmigrated into the body of the vicious first wife of a fallen prime minister

When Qi He came out of the bedroom, it was already the next day.

She couldn't bear to give up the silent treatment; without him, who would run errands for her?

Since Shang Jue hasn't gained power yet, I should definitely make good use of him.

This is the future Grand Secretary, second only to the emperor, someone I can command with dignity, someone worthy of my attention.

Just thinking about what she said last night, "I'm eighteen," still made her face flush, so she decided to focus all her energy on swimming.

She went to the martial arts school more and more often, so often that her master couldn't help but ask her if she was really going to go out and make her way in the martial arts world.

A few days later, Hu Ying sent her an invitation, saying that a "famous artist" who had returned from the south was holding a painting appreciation event in the city and asking if she wanted to go with him.

Qi He wasn't too keen on going. At such an event, she would just be surrounded by a bunch of unfamiliar people, which would be exhausting.

Hu Ying sent another letter, saying that she had some old grudges with that person and wanted Qi He to help her save face.

After being pestered by her for half a day, Qi He finally relented.

On the day of the art appreciation event, Hu Ying wore a long, smoky-colored dress, and was impeccably dressed from head to toe. She wore a South Sea pearl bracelet the size of a pigeon's egg on her wrist and a ten-carat pink tourmaline ring on her finger.

She affectionately linked arms with Qi He, whispered a string of complaints in her ear, and then looked at her face with envy: "Don't send any more portraits, they're nowhere near as pretty as you in person."

Those simple line drawings looked like scribbles, and she always had to instruct her servants to burn them, for fear of being haunted by them.

Qi He was flattered by her praise and became even more interested in the art appreciation event.

Having dealt with a wave of female relatives who had come to gather after hearing the news, Qi He was now quite adept at handling such matters. She first enjoyed the flattery and adoration from everyone, and then exchanged a few polite words with her hostess, Madam Zhang.

Hu Ying rolled her eyes, every strand of her hair seemed to say, "I'm here to put you down today."

Madam Zhang pretended to be affectionate and took Qi He's hand: "I have long heard of Miss Qi's great name. Seeing you today, I can confirm that it is indeed well-deserved."

Qi He responded politely, but because she was on Hu Ying's side, she was particularly cold towards Zhang Niangzi's overtures.

Hu Ying chuckled sarcastically from the side: "Zhang Aichun, you went to Beijing to get a fancy makeover and came back, but you've forgotten where you're from? You should probably change that Beijing accent before you speak."

After speaking, she flicked her stray hair, and the South Sea pearl bracelet on her wrist made Zhang Niangzi's eyelids twitch.

Seeing that things were not going well, Qi He used the excuse of looking at the painting to quietly slip away to the side.

The walls are adorned with numerous imitations by famous artists, including Gu Kaizhi's "Nymph of the Luo River" and Zhang Xuan's "Lady Guo's Spring Outing," as well as several masterpieces by contemporary painters.

Qi He, having nothing better to do, took out a blank sheet of paper and drew a puppy in the corner of one of the drawings, intending to give it to Shang Jue to cheer him up.

As soon as he spread out the paper, he remembered that they were still arguing, so he wrote "Are you alive?" and tentatively sent it over.

Shang Jue's reply arrived almost instantly: "Still alive."

Qi He added two strokes to the little dog in her painting and captioned it: "Do you think there's something in this painting that looks just like you?"

She was painting a small, casual stroke next to Han Gan's "Night-Shining White," in which an inconspicuous yellow dog was curled up in the corner.

Shang Jue's reply arrived shortly after: "This man?"

Qi He sketched a detail of the yellow dog and sent it back: "You look like this."

Finally, I drew "=3=".

I doubt he could understand it either.

The reply from Shang Jue nearly made her throw her pen away: "What is =3=?"

Qi He had shot herself in the foot, and forced a reply: "It doesn't mean anything, I just drew it casually."

Shang Jue replied even faster: "I looked at it again and again, and I think that '=3=" probably means 'kiss'."

Qi He's ears suddenly turned red, and she quickly retorted, "That's someone else's solution! I'm insulting you!"

Shang Jue's reply arrived shortly after: "I see, =3=".

Qi He clutched the note, convinced that the bastard had done it on purpose!

His expressionless face drawing this kind of thing is simply an eyesore.

Just as she was about to write something more, a voice suddenly came from behind her: "Xiao He?"

Qi He was particularly sensitive to her name, and there weren't many people who dared to call her Xiao He. When she turned around, she saw a man she didn't recognize at all. He was wearing a smoky gray brocade robe, a head taller than her, with a handsome face and wearing a pair of tortoiseshell-rimmed dark crystal glasses. He looked like a refined businessman.

Qi He searched her memory but couldn't find out who this person was.

"Is this Xiao He?" the man asked again.

Qi He thought to herself, "Could it be an old acquaintance?"

It would be embarrassing if you couldn't remember it right away.

Perhaps her hesitation was too obvious, for Lu Jingxing spoke gently: "Are you still angry with me?"

Qi He had a series of questions in her mind.

Who are you, bro?

Seeing her like this, Lu Jingxing's expression darkened slightly: "If you weren't angry with me, why have you been avoiding me ever since I returned to Jinling? And now you're pretending not to recognize me?"

Qi He suddenly remembered the note Shen Yu had sent a few days ago, and realized what was going on—

Lu Jingxing!

"Are you Lu Jingxing?" she asked tentatively.

Lu Jingxing's tone carried a hint of helplessness and self-deprecation: "Finally remembered?"

Qi He felt a little embarrassed, but her greatest skill was to remain calm in awkward situations and shift the blame onto others.

As she pondered how to reminisce with this childhood sweetheart she had never met, Lu Jingxing looked up at the copy of Han Gan's calligraphy on the wall.

The painting depicts a magnificent horse with its head held high and neighing, which, in Lu Jingxing's eyes, seems to carry a different meaning.

"I didn't expect to meet you at the art appreciation event today. I remember you used to dislike these things." Lu Jingxing suppressed his displeasure and took the initiative to speak.

Just as Qi He was wondering how to respond, Hu Ying had just won a great victory. With her impressive attire, she silenced Zhang Niangzi. Watching her storm off, Hu Ying felt completely relaxed and smugly strolled over with her teacup.

As she approached, one of her girlfriends leaned over and whispered, "Hey, who's that person talking to Miss Qi?"

Hu Ying looked up and her heart skipped a beat.

She was Qi He's most well-informed person and recognized Lu Jingxing at a glance.

"Lu Jingxing, don't you know? He was the Second Miss's childhood sweetheart."

"The rumors in the industry have been circulating recently that he's back, and the second young lady even specially picked out a gift for him."

"Isn't Qi Er about to get married?"

"Now that my childhood sweetheart is back, could it be that we're rekindling our old flame?"

"They don't seem to be very close."

Hu Ying gripped the teacup tightly, her face expressionless, but her mind was racing.

Should we tell Shang Jue?

Using the excuse of washing her hands, Qi He finally managed to get away from Lu Jingxing.

She stood in the clean room and let out a long sigh of relief. Dealing with her childhood sweetheart was just too difficult.

She was afraid of being too enthusiastic, yet also afraid of being too indifferent and giving people away; she was caught in the middle.

At this moment, she suddenly realized how good Shang Jue was. Her persona had completely collapsed in front of him, yet the scoundrel hadn't suspected a thing. What a handsome and kind-hearted little angel he was.

She washed her face and suddenly heard someone knocking on the door, saying that someone had delivered a letter.

Qi He took it and unfolded it, only to find that it was Shang Jue's handwriting.

"Where?" Shang Jue asked directly.

"It's an art appreciation event, you didn't know?" Qi He replied, picking up her brush.

"When will you leave? I'll come pick you up." Shang Jue quickly sent another card.

"It's still early. I heard there's an art appraisal event tonight, where many genuine works by famous artists will be on display."

"Address sent."

"Why did you bring this? Are you coming over?" Qi He asked in surprise.

"If I don't come, I'm afraid my husband will become the laughing stock of Jinling City."

Although Qi He had already anticipated that Shang Jue would ask about Lu Jingxing, she did not expect that the news about the wealthy young ladies of Ningcheng would spread so quickly, reaching Shang Jue's ears in just half an hour.

Not wanting to lose face, she struck first: "What do you mean? You don't trust me?"

A moment later, Shang Jue replied with a note, the handwriting a bit darker than before: "It's not that I don't trust you, it's that I don't trust other people's resolve."

Qi He stared at those few lines of text several times, her ears gradually burning.

"That bastard, he's quite the smooth talker..."

She folded the note and put it in her sleeve, then took out a new piece of paper and replied with only four words: "3:45 PM."

Then, after thinking for a moment, he added, "Come on then."

After finishing writing, he had his maid deliver it.

The clean room quieted down. She looked at her slightly flushed cheeks in the bronze mirror, took a deep breath, and splashed some cool water on her face twice.

It was just a nice remark; Shang Jue was good at sweet-talking people, so she couldn't take it seriously.

But she couldn't bear to throw the note away, so she kept it in her sleeve. When she occasionally touched it through the fabric, she felt it was a little hot to the touch.