The Scheming Heir Apparent Keeps Asking Me to Treat Him

“Princess Consort, this is bad! His Highness the Heir is sick again.” Feng Qingwan was halfway up the wall, watching the refined young gentleman outside. “Don’t worry, he won’t die. Don’t interrupt me while I’m admiring this handsome young man.” Suddenly, Feng Qingwan felt an arm wrap around her waist. Someone lifted her off the wall and carried her back to her room. “What are you doing? We’re only married by contract!”