Moonlit Reunion

The wedding banquet was so lively that even Duke Yu stopped trying to control the situation, letting them make merry as he himself was in high spirits today. The revelry continued until nearly midnight when everyone else dispersed, leaving only the newlyweds behind.

Seated in the Hundred Sons tent, the couple found the earlier commotion replaced by silence, with only their breathing audible in the space. The tent flaps had been lowered, and the dim lamplight inside cast their trembling shadows upon the richly embroidered fabric.

Wu Zhen studied Mei Zhuyu. Though he wasn't much of a drinker normally, today—even with her attempts to intervene—he had consumed quite a bit. Surprisingly, the young man's tolerance had improved; he wasn't drunk and still appeared clear-headed.

As the saying goes, "the groom in red, the bride in green." Wu Zhen wore green wedding robes while Mei Zhuyu was dressed in red. Though not particularly handsome and usually appearing somewhat plain, the groom now seemed brighter and more vibrant in his festive attire.

After observing him for a while, Wu Zhen suddenly removed her wide-sleeved outer robe. Mei Zhuyu started in surprise but quickly suppressed his reaction, remaining motionless. Noticing his brief shock, Wu Zhen guessed his thoughts and burst into laughter.

Wiping her face, she came away with a handful of powder and shook her head with amusement. "You didn't think we'd sleep like this, did you? With this thick layer on my face, I wouldn't be able to sleep without washing it off. Besides, it's stuffy in this tent—I don't like it."

Though not drunk, Mei Zhuyu's alcohol tolerance couldn't match Wu Zhen's, and his reactions were slightly slower than usual. After a pause, he began, "Newlyweds are supposed to stay in the Hundred Sons tent tonight..." but trailed off before finishing.

Wu Zhen tossed aside the heavy gold-and-jade embroidered robe and began removing the weighty hair ornaments. Once done, she rolled her neck, feeling as though her head might snap off from the strain.

"Alright, come with me. We're not sleeping here tonight." She grabbed Mei Zhuyu's hand and pulled him out of the tent, remembering to extinguish the lamps before leaving.

The night was ink-dark with a brilliant starry sky. Distant corridor lights flickered faintly while insects chirped quietly in nearby flower beds, enhancing the peaceful atmosphere.

Wu Zhen led Mei Zhuyu stealthily back to her own courtyard, where she had arranged for water to be prepared earlier that day.

"I've heard how exhausting weddings can be. Come wash your face. There's light tea and snacks here too—you barely ate at the banquet. Hungry?" This considerate side of Wu Zhen would have shocked Duke Yu and Wu Huanghou had they seen it.

Mei Zhuyu fetched water and wrung out a cloth, but instead of using it himself, he handed it to her and helped untangle her hair. Her earlier hasty removal of ornaments had left her hairstyle in disarray, and he carefully loosened the tangled strands until her hair fell freely.

Wu Zhen accepted his assistance with a smile. After cleaning her face, she placed the warm cloth over her features and leaned back against Mei Zhuyu. Tilting her head slightly, she suddenly laughed. "Husband, your heart is beating much too fast."Her voice was muffled beneath the cloth, indistinct. Had she lifted the fabric at that moment, she would have discovered that her bashful husband's face held not only shyness but also a look of infatuation and desire. Mei Zhuyu remained silent, slowly lowering his head to nestle his face in Wu Zhen's loose hair, then lightly brushing her cheek with his nose and lips.

Suddenly, he lifted his hands and picked Wu Zhen up from the low table. The cloth covering her face fell away, but she paid it no mind, simply wrapping her arms around Mei Zhuyu's neck and pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips.

"Shall we go to my room?" she murmured softly.

"Alright," Mei Zhuyu replied, his voice hoarse.

Wu Zhen's bed was placed by the south-facing window as she preferred. The large window stood wide open, offering a view of the peony garden in the rear courtyard. Wu Zhen loved vibrancy, so her garden boasted peonies of every hue, dazzlingly bright by day but now draped in a dreamy, hazy glow under the night sky.

The large window existed because Wu Zhen adored lying on her bed to admire the flowers. Tonight, however, though there was an additional person sharing the bed with her, neither had any attention to spare for the blossoms.

A delicate fragrance wafted into the room on a playful breeze, intoxicating and heady. Mei Zhuyu pressed Wu Zhen's hand against his cheek as they gazed at each other, one above the other, their eyes reflecting the same fervor. It was unclear who initiated it, but when they came together, it felt as natural as if they were always meant to be this way.

In his youth, Mei Zhuyu's senior brothers had remarked that he lacked the restless passion typical of young men. His master had said he was naturally detached, born for the path of cultivation.

Mei Zhuyu had always believed this—until he came to Chang'an and met Wu Zhen. Only then did he realize he was no different from other men. He, too, could lose control, could be consumed by thoughts of someone, could ache with longing.

Those who followed the path of cultivation seldom married and were encouraged to cultivate restraint and detachment. In the past, Mei Zhuyu had held no expectations for romantic entanglements. Even after leaving the mountain and returning to the mortal world, he had adhered to the teachings of his sect. But now, at last, he understood what it meant to be utterly bewitched.

Like this moment, when all he wanted was to gather this soft, flowing water into his hands and let it seep into his very being, to quench the wildfire raging inside him.

Wu Zhen finally caught her breath and pressed a palm against her husband's chest, puzzled. Why was her slender young husband so unexpectedly strong? Even she, the esteemed Cat Official, found it a little overwhelming. She couldn't resist pinching his arm—where did all that strength come from?

Mei Zhuyu inhaled sharply and caught her hand. Feeling him bury his face against her neck, Wu Zhen wrapped her arms around his head, tangling her fingers in the hair at his nape.

"Darling."

"Hmm?"

"You might have bruised my waist."

Mei Zhuyu immediately sat up to check, but from his vantage point, all he saw was her lying amid the disheveled bedding, smiling openly, utterly unguarded. Wordlessly, he pulled a thin blanket over her. Wu Zhen rolled onto her side, muffling her laughter in her arm, only to soon feel hands on her waist—warm but well-behaved, gently massaging the soreness away.She turned her head to look at Mei Zhuyu, resting her chin on her arm. He sat beside her, slightly hunched, his hair cascading over his shoulders. The dim light outside cast a faint halo around him, like a lone pine tree at the edge of a cliff—Wu Zhen suddenly thought this for no particular reason.

She abruptly turned and reached out to pull Mei Zhuyu down beside her. She didn’t say anything, but her meaning was clear.

The night wasn’t long, and soon the first light of dawn appeared outside the window. By the time the bells and drums from the imperial city echoed through the wards, Wu Zhen had only just fallen asleep. Annoyed by the noise, she fumbled around beside her, grabbed something, and immediately buried herself in it.

Mei Zhuyu was awakened by the bells and drums—and by his newlywed wife’s antics. He blinked groggily and saw Wu Zhen frowning as she burrowed into his arms. Realizing what was wrong, he covered her ears with his hands. Sure enough, her brow smoothed, and she wrapped an arm around his waist, drifting back to sleep.

The bells and drums would sound intermittently for a while. Normally, Mei Zhuyu would rise at the first toll, sit quietly in the courtyard for two quarters of an hour, practice swordplay for another two, then wash up and prepare for breakfast before riding to his post. On days with grand court assemblies, he would start even earlier. But today, he lay there, feeling no desire to move—only to watch Wu Zhen.

Suddenly, the arm around his waist shifted, and Mei Zhuyu felt darkness cover his eyes. Wu Zhen’s voice, thick with sleep, murmured, “I can’t sleep with you staring at me.”

Mei Zhuyu apologized. Wu Zhen cracked one eye open to glance at him.

“Look out the window.”

Mei Zhuyu turned as instructed. The garden was filled with peonies shimmering in the morning light, perhaps from the dew on their petals. The air was crisp, still carrying a faint fragrance, though for some reason, Mei Zhuyu thought it wasn’t as rich as the night before.

Wu Zhen propped herself up, resting her chin on his shoulder as they both gazed at the peonies outside.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

She kissed his cheek, then flopped back down, pressing her forehead against his back. “Since it’s so nice, enjoy the view. I’m going back to sleep.”

Under the thin blanket, Mei Zhuyu found her hand and held it, quietly watching the peonies until the sky brightened fully.

In the end, he wasn’t used to staying in bed so late. Mei Zhuyu got up, tidied the room softly, closed the wide-open windows—leaving only a small gap—and then slipped out, shutting the door behind him.

By the time Wu Zhen finally woke up, dressed, and stepped out, she saw her father and her new husband sitting in the hall, drinking tea.

“It’s a brewing method from the south. Nowadays, all the temples in and around Chang’an favor this style. Young Master Pei came by earlier and taught me how to prepare it. Try it,” Duke Yu said with a kindly smile, the picture of a doting father. Wu Zhen leaned against the doorframe, watching for a moment, then rapped her knuckles against a wooden shelf nearby. When the two men looked over, she said, “That tea tastes awful—no flavor at all.”

Duke Yu instinctively scowled at her lack of decorum, especially in contrast to his dignified son-in-law. He was about to reprimand her when, before he could speak, Mei Zhuyu said, “Don’t sleep so late next time. Missing meals isn’t good for your health.”Duke Yu's heart skipped a beat. He knew his own daughter well—she hated hearing such things. Even if her own father said a few extra words, she would get annoyed. Duke Yu hadn't heard how they got along, but now that he heard his son-in-law managing his daughter, he worried she might lose her temper. On the first day of their marriage, if they really started arguing, it would be disastrous.

He cleared his throat, wanting to say something, but Wu Zhen had already responded. She let out an "Oh," showing neither anger nor joy, just her usual expression as she strolled over. "What did you eat this morning?" she asked.

Mei Zhuyu answered and then asked if she wanted to eat something to settle her stomach. Wu Zhen nodded, so he stood up to leave, as if going to fetch the breakfast that had been prepared but delayed by over an hour.

After Mei Zhuyu left, Wu Zhen sat in his spot and casually picked up the half-drunk cup of tea he had left behind. "No wonder it doesn't taste good," she remarked before finishing it in one gulp.

Duke Yu looked at his daughter, then at the empty doorway, a bit puzzled. But he thought to himself with relief, "Seems there's no need to worry too much. I should head back to the temple early."