Blossom

“Why did you come alone?” Dou Zhao asked in surprise.

For her convenience, her personal maids—Su Xin, Su Lan, Gan Lu, and Su Juan—who had accompanied her into the mansion were resting in the adjacent side room.

Su Lan cheerfully approached Dou Zhao and said, “Chen He from the Young Lord’s side just came to ask if the guests in the room had dispersed. If they had, he told us to come in and help you retire for the night. He also said—he also said—we should serve you just as we did at home and just assign someone to carefully watch over the dragon-and-phoenix wedding candles. If the guests hadn’t left yet, we were to wait a little longer… Sister Su Xin sent me in to ask whether you’d like to rest now or have a bite to eat first.” Then, as if to reassure Dou Zhao, she added, “When Chen He came, he also brought a page named Wuyi, saying that since we’re new here and unfamiliar with the place, we could ask Wuyi to handle anything we needed. He seemed quite sharp to me, so I doubt he’d gossip about anything.”

For a bride to retire before the groom returned would be a grave act of disrespect. If the groom’s family found out, a reprimand would be the least of it—they might even summon the bride’s family to humiliate them, and the bride’s family would have no choice but to endure it.

Song Mo had considered everything carefully.

Dou Zhao smiled. “I’ll wait for the Young Lord to return.”

Since Song Mo held her in such high regard, she ought to respect him in return.

Su Lan nodded with a smile. “Shall I keep you company, then?”

“Haven’t we talked enough every day?” Dou Zhao chuckled. “Go and rest now. Just leave Gan Lu on night duty. Tomorrow will be busy for all of you!” Then she asked, “Are the gifts for the Song family ready for tomorrow?”

“All prepared,” Su Lan replied cheerfully. “We’ve had them ready for a while. Sister Su Xin also had us prepare many Red Envelopes—some with double-happiness patterns containing eight qian of silver, and others with auspicious motifs containing four qian. You can use them to reward the servants later.”

Dou Zhao nodded in satisfaction.

Su Lan served her a cup of hot tea before withdrawing.

Dou Zhao then took a careful look around the bridal chamber.

It was a main hall with five bays and side rooms. The easternmost bay served as the inner chamber, the adjacent one as the Resting Chamber, and the side room had been converted into a wash area. She couldn’t see the western side, but it was likely a study or something similar.

Since her father-in-law was still alive, this certainly wasn’t the main courtyard of The Duke of England's Mansion.

When she had entered earlier, the sedan chair had taken many twists and turns, so she wasn’t sure whether this was the Hall of Cultivating Will or a separate courtyard designated for the bridal chamber.

The walls had been freshly papered, and the drapes were made of Hangzhou silk in bright red with persimmon motifs. Given the short time between the betrothal and the wedding, a full renovation would have been impossible. The ceiling was entirely covered with a canopy painted with blue-green Eight Treasures designs, and the floor was paved with mirror tiles so polished one could see their reflection. Clearly, this room hadn’t been chosen at random for the bridal chamber.

Dou Zhao’s gaze was drawn to the five-colored glazed lattice screen between the inner chamber and the Resting Chamber.

It consisted of six panels with eighteen compartments, all inlaid with blue enameled glass and mother-of-pearl magnolia motifs. The colors were bright yet soft, the design novel yet dignified, and it fascinated her so much that she leaned in for a closer look.

Whose craftsmanship was this?The Meiling orchid has short, broad sepals with blunt tips; the Jian'ou orchid has petals that curl upwards; the Pusan orchid has petals shaped like palm-leaf fans... The details are so intricate, it could be called a masterpiece of nature!

She thought of the garden of flowers she had left behind in Zhen Ding. And her grandmother.

She had thought she would return soon, but unexpectedly, two years had passed.

If only she could have the chance to go back and bid her grandmother farewell.

And then there were Su Xin and Su Lan—because of the delays caused by her affairs, their marriages had been postponed as well.

Dou Zhao recalled when Zhao Liangbi came to the capital at the end of last year. Su Lan had served tea, and the way he had gazed at her, along with Su Lan’s flushed ears, had been unmistakable.

She couldn’t help but rub her forehead.

Just then, the sound of brisk footsteps came from outside.

Soon after, a servant’s respectful voice announced, “Young Lord, you’ve returned to your chambers!”

Song Mo responded with a faint “Hmm.”

Dou Zhao quickly straightened her posture.

The door creaked open, and Song Mo walked in, his face slightly flushed from wine.

“Young Lord!” Dou Zhao greeted him with a smile.

As the bride, she wasn’t supposed to let her feet touch the ground before the wedding night.

Song Mo was surprised to see Dou Zhao still fully dressed in her bridal attire, seated on the nanmu bed.

Dou Zhao smiled and explained, “I was waiting for your return.”

Though their marriage had been somewhat of a practical arrangement, Dou Zhao’s respect for the ceremony moved Song Mo slightly.

He gestured to the dazzling yet heavy phoenix crown and Rosy Cape she wore and said, “Can you take these off now?”

Dou Zhao smiled. “Of course!”

Song Mo sighed in relief and chuckled. “Then hurry and call someone to help you remove them. Just looking at you makes me tired.”

Dou Zhao laughed and summoned Su Xin and Su Lan inside.

Song Mo retreated to the western side chamber.

After Dou Zhao had washed up, tied her hair into a simple bun, applied fragrant lotion, and changed into a fresh peach-colored undergarment, Su Lan and the others withdrew, leaving Gan Lu behind to arrange the bedding on the heated brick bed by the window in the Resting Chamber.

Song Mo also changed into a lake-blue Taoist robe made of Hangzhou silk and reentered.

Noticing Gan Lu preparing the bedding, he calmly instructed her, “You may retire for the night. There’s no need for you to keep watch here.”

Gan Lu glanced uncertainly at Dou Zhao.

Since she had married Song Mo, she had to respect his habits.

Dou Zhao gave a slight nod.

Gan Lu quickly curtsied and withdrew.

Song Mo sat on the bedding Gan Lu had laid out and said with a smile, “Let’s rest. Tomorrow we’ll have to rise early for the kitchen god ceremony, ancestral worship, meeting relatives, and hosting a banquet for friends and family. You wouldn’t want to be yawning all day!” With that, he took off his shoes and climbed onto the heated bed.

“Y-you’re planning to sleep here?” Dou Zhao was stunned.

Song Mo grinned. “If I slept elsewhere, you’d likely be the subject of gossip tomorrow. It might even alarm your father.”

Thinking of the stack of silver notes Dou Shiying had given Dou Zhao and the way she had choked up when bidding her parents farewell, his tone softened slightly.

Dou Zhao’s face flushed crimson.

It wasn’t until two days before the wedding that she had finally decided to marry Song Mo.

Too much had happened, and time had been too tight—some things she hadn’t had the chance to consider carefully.

Only after the wedding ceremony, sitting quietly alone in the bridal chamber, did she think about the wedding night… Her heart twisted uncomfortably, but she knew that as Song Mo’s wife, she had to fulfill her duties and obligations. Resigned, she steeled herself—whatever would happen, would happen.But she never expected that Song Mo had no intention of consummating their marriage.

This came as a relief, yet also left her somewhat uneasy.

As if reading her thoughts, Song Mo calmly pointed to a small red lacquer box with gold tracery he had brought in and said with a smile, "Master Yan helped me prepare this. It's made with chicken blood mixed with medicinal herbs. No ordinary person could tell it's fake... Don't worry, no one will know..." Yet a flush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, betraying his inner shyness.

Dou Zhao stared at Song Mo in astonishment, her gaze as bright as the summer sun, as if trying to see right through him.

Song Mo grew flustered.

He turned on his side and lay down.

"Go to sleep now!" he murmured, closing his eyes. "We have to rise early tomorrow!"

Dou Zhao stood by the bed, looking at Song Mo's back as he curled away from her, her expression complex. After a long moment, she finally said softly, "How can I let you sleep here? I should be the one sleeping here—you take the bed..."

Gan Lu's bedding was made of coarse cloth with only a thick cotton pad, while hers was silk with multiple layers of cotton padding, extremely soft.

"It's fine," Song Mo replied. "When I was with my uncle, I even slept in horse stables. I'm not particular about these things. You should go to sleep."

Dou Zhao stood there for a while longer before quietly lying down on the nanmu bed.

The room was brightly lit, so quiet you could hear a pin drop, with only the faint sound of the third watch striking in the distance.

Yet Dou Zhao couldn't sleep at all.

If things were like this now, what about later?

What about Song Mo's heir?

But the thought of sharing a bed with him... Memories from her past life flashed through her mind. She truly couldn't muster the courage!

Rustling slightly, she turned over again.

"Can't sleep?" Song Mo suddenly asked, breaking the heavy silence in the room, though she had thought he was already asleep.

Seeing that Song Mo wasn't as indifferent as he appeared comforted her somewhat.

She stammered, "What about in the future..."

"We'll deal with the future when it comes," Song Mo said dismissively with a laugh. "Didn't you say you might not be a good wife but would definitely be a good partner? Right now, what I need is a good partner!"

Was that why Song Mo had chosen to sleep in the outer chamber on their wedding night?

Dou Zhao didn't dare dwell on it.

She wanted to be selfish, to first soothe her own heart.

Yet for some reason, she found herself even more unable to sleep.

Song Mo began chatting with her to pass the time: "Our residence is divided into three sections. The central path leads to the main hall, with the main chamber behind it. The garden is on the eastern path, and daily living quarters are on the western path... Our new home is in the Hall of Cultivating Will on the western path, the courtyard I used to live in. We only gave it a quick refurbishment. If you're not satisfied, we can hire craftsmen next summer to properly renovate it... After my mother passed away, Father moved to the Cassia Fragrance Courtyard on the eastern path... My younger brother lives in the Deer Cry Studio next to it, which used to be Grandfather's painting studio. It got its name from the deer kept there, but after Grandfather died, Father sent them to our farmstead in the suburbs. Over a dozen years, they've multiplied to over a hundred and have become a source of income for the family. As for the main chamber, it's been left empty since then..."

His rambling gradually calmed Dou Zhao down.Dou Zhao was very curious about why Yan Chaoqing had helped Song Mo prepare the chicken blood, but she didn’t want to disrupt the peaceful moment, so she suppressed the question for now.

She told Song Mo about the little girl who had been shouting outside her door earlier and said, “She called you ‘Third Cousin’ and referred to Father-in-law as ‘Second Uncle.’ Could she be Third Uncle or Fourth Uncle’s child?”

“She must be Third Uncle’s daughter, Song Jin!” Song Mo replied without hesitation. “The Song family has few descendants, and she’s the only girl in our generation. The elders and all of us cousins have always indulged her. I always thought she was just a bit spoiled, but I never imagined she’d become so unruly.” His tone carried a hint of displeasure, and he didn’t doubt Dou Zhao’s account in the slightest. “If she troubles you tomorrow, don’t say anything—just smile. I’ll handle it.” He then began introducing some of their relatives to Dou Zhao.

She had already learned all this from Chen Qushui as soon as she had decided to marry Song Mo. But his words—“Don’t say anything, I’ll handle it”—made her heart skip a beat, stirring deep emotion.

In both her lifetimes, no one but Song Mo had ever said such words to her.

Lulled by Song Mo’s clear, spring-like voice, Dou Zhao drifted into a deep sleep.