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The Moon Prince’s residence was unusually quiet that evening, the kind of quiet that made Maomao alert rather than relaxed.
Jinshi adjusted his sleeves and smiled at her. “My brother invited me for late night drinks,” he said. “It may go on for a while, so do not wait up.”
Maomao was sorting dried herbs and did not bother looking up. “Try not to poison yourself with alcohol.”
“Such concern from my wife.”
“I am concerned for the furniture.”
Jinshi laughed and left, clearly in high spirits.
Maomao bathed, changed into night clothes, and lay down with every intention of sleeping. That intention lasted exactly ten minutes. With a small frown, she sat up, lit a candle, and picked up a book. If sleep would not come, she might as well be productive.
The candle was halfway melted when the door finally slid open.
Basen stepped in, half carrying Jinshi, who looked far too pleased with himself. “I am home,” Jinshi declared, immediately leaning sideways.
Maomao rose. “You are drunk.”
“Drunk enough to know I missed you terribly,” he said, leaning into her embrace.
Basen cleared his throat, tightening his grip on Jinshi. “I can stay a little longer, in case His Highness decides to collapse again.”
“I can handle this,” Maomao said. “You should go home. Lady Lishu might be waiting for you.”
Basen froze, then straightened. “Thank you. That is very thoughtful of you.”
Color crept up his neck. He bowed deeply, turned too fast, and hurried down the corridor, clearly intent on not wasting a single moment.
Jinshi clung to her like a vine as she made him drink water, wiped his face, and changed him into sleepwear. He followed her to the bedroom without protest and collapsed onto the bed.
Instantly asleep.
Instantly snoring.
Maomao lay there, eyes wide open, listening.
The snoring was loud. Very unprincely. It had rhythm and confidence, as if Jinshi’s lungs had decided to perform on their own.
She stared at the ceiling and began evaluating her options.
Option one. Wake him up and tell him to stop. She attempted this by nudging his shoulder. The snoring paused, she felt hope, then it resumed louder than before.
Option two. Turn his head. She tried. He turned back and draped an arm over her.
Option three. Smother him with a pillow. She dismissed this on legal grounds.
She glanced at the candle and calculated how many hours of sleep she could get if she fell asleep immediately. The answer was discouraging. Tomorrow she still had to report to the medical office. Dr. Liu would not accept fatigue as an excuse, even if it’s caused by a prince.
After several minutes of intense consideration and growing irritation, Maomao carefully freed herself from Jinshi’s grip and slipped out of bed. She moved to a nearby room and laid down.
Silence.
Beautiful, glorious silence.
She closed her eyes and finally slept.
Then warmth crept up behind her.
An arm wrapped around her waist.
Snore.
Maomao’s eyes flew open.
Jinshi was there, pressed against her back, snoring loudly with absolute confidence, as if no amount of effort on her part could possibly matter.
“So you found me,” she murmured.
He shifted, tightened his hold, and murmured something unintelligible and fell deeper asleep.
She stared at the wall, resigned.
Maomao sighed, closed her eyes, and accepted her fate. She decided that tomorrow she would write a detailed report on the effects of loud snoring on a wife’s sleep.