The Prisoner of Beauty

Yesterday, Boling celebrated a triumphant return, having decisively defeated Chen Xiang of Bingzhou, another major warlord from the north who had come to invade. Tonight, coinciding with the Lord's grand wedding, the camp was bustling with the slaughter of sheep and pigs, and wine was exceptionally served, both as a reward and as the Lord's celebratory wine.

Wei Shao, since taking personal command of the army at the age of seventeen, had always shared meals and quarters with his soldiers during campaigns. He led from the front in every battle, earning both respect and fear from his men. Normally, there were few opportunities for the soldiers to drink freely, but tonight, with double cause for celebration, the campfires outside the city blazed brightly, and songs of joy could be heard everywhere. As the wine flowed, a sudden cheer erupted from the front, and soldiers rushed to see Wei Shao himself, who had come out of the city to the camp to personally toast the brave soldiers who had recaptured Boling.

On his wedding night, the Lord still remembered to come out and reward his soldiers. The entire camp erupted in excitement, with soldiers surrounding him, eager to toast and congratulate him on his marriage. Wei Shao, with a broad smile and a heroic spirit, accepted every toast. It was only when Wei Liang, who was accompanying him, feared he might get too drunk and miss his wedding night, that he began to decline on Wei Shao's behalf. Finally, Wei Shao managed to extricate himself and return to the city, though by then, the night was already deep.

……

After the ceremony, the bride was first escorted to the new bridal chamber set up in Wei Shao's usual residence in Sheyang. Xiao Qiao was helped to remove her wedding attire and then asked Chun Niang and the maids to leave. The maids filed out, but Chun Niang lingered, unwilling to leave.

Chun Niang's husband had been a soldier of the Qiao family. She had given birth to a daughter at twenty, but before she could recover from childbirth, her husband died in battle. Her in-laws, unwilling to support her, sought to remarry her for money. Hearing that the Lord's household had just welcomed a new daughter and was looking for a suitable wet nurse, they thought the money they could get from this would be more than from selling her off. They found a way to get her in. Chun Niang was healthy and upright, and after some inquiries, Xiao Qiao's mother, feeling pity for her plight and considering that her husband had died fighting for the Qiao family, decided to overlook the usual taboos and had a shamaness purify her before making her Xiao Qiao's wet nurse. Chun Niang, grateful for the kindness, devoted herself to raising Xiao Qiao, and now, as Xiao Qiao was married far away, she naturally followed, reluctant to part.

Now, in the bridal chamber, amidst the candles and the auspicious moment, there seemed to be a lack of completeness. Chun Niang, thinking of the glimpse she had caught of Wei Shao—tall, strong, and obviously accustomed to the bloody life of a warrior—and comparing him to the delicate and timid daughter of the Lord, whose thighs might not even be as thick as his arms, and who had just reached the age of maturity, feared that Wei Shao's roughness might cause her pain. Her heart was heavy with worry.

Though Chun Niang was a servant, she was like a second mother to Xiao Qiao. Seeing Chun Niang looking at her with unspoken words and a face full of concern, Xiao Qiao went to comfort her instead.

Chun Niang forced a look of joy and leaned close to Xiao Qiao's ear, repeatedly advising her that when Marquis Wei entered the room to perform the rites of Zhou with her, she should remember to act delicate and weak to evoke his pity. Men, when they feel pity, naturally become gentle.

"Never try to be strong. Remember, remember!"

Hearing Chun Niang's repeated advice, Xiao Qiao finally understood why she had been so reluctant to leave earlier. Although she had lived two lives, her experience in this area was still lacking, and she couldn't help but blush slightly, nodding hastily in agreement.Chun Niang finally released her hand and left the bridal chamber, turning back every few steps.

……

The room was now left with only Xiao Qiao, waiting for the arrival of her groom, Wei Shao.

It was a spacious and square bedroom, with a six-panel black and red lacquered screen painted with cloud and dragon patterns at the entrance, dividing the room into inner and outer sections. Beside the screen stood a large bed, adorned with brand new crimson bedding, neatly arranged with pillows and quilts. A pair of jade bi discs with grain patterns hung from the bed canopy, serving both as decoration and as a talisman to ward off evil spirits in the bridal chamber. Opposite the bed was a low rectangular couch for sitting, covered with a soft mat, with a small table in the center. The rest of the room was furnished with cabinets and chests placed against the walls. On the lamp stand, a pair of thick red candles, as thick as a child's arm, burned brightly. Beyond these, the room was devoid of any other decorations.

After surveying the room, Xiao Qiao stood in the middle, staring blankly at the red candles.

Perhaps influenced by Chun Niang's earlier admonitions, as she stood there, Xiao Qiao, who had initially felt nothing much, gradually began to feel nervous.

In her previous life, Xiao Qiao had secretly met her cousin Da Qiao for the last time many years later. By then, Wei Shao was on the verge of becoming emperor and had a woman by his side, said to be deeply favored. Although Da Qiao was nominally his Madam, he had long since ignored her, leaving her to fend for herself.

It was during that meeting that Xiao Qiao learned that from the very first day Da Qiao married him, Wei Shao had never laid a finger on her.

Although Da Qiao was not as stunningly beautiful as Xiao Qiao, she was still quite lovely. The fact that he had never touched a beautiful woman who had become his wife showed the depth of his hatred for the Qiao family. Yet, despite such hatred, he had agreed to the marriage alliance and taken a Qiao daughter as his wife. His cunning and ability to endure were not something an ordinary person could achieve.

With this preconceived notion in mind, Xiao Qiao felt that tonight, Wei Shao would likely not touch her either. But as long as it hadn't happened, there was always uncertainty.

What if he did?

If he were to consummate the marriage normally, given his size and weight, sitting down heavily might even crush her to the point of spitting blood. And if he were in a bad mood—which was highly likely—and became beastly, her body, which in the eyes of the people was already of marriageable age but in reality was barely approaching fifteen, might not be able to withstand it.

She also couldn't imagine herself, as Chun Niang had advised, using softness to overcome hardness while lying beneath him during such an act. In her previous life, Xiao Qiao had married Liu Yan, but as herself, although not entirely ignorant, she hadn't had the chance to accumulate much practical experience in this area before she became the current Xiao Qiao.

The more Xiao Qiao thought about it, the more uncertain she became. Finally, she steadied herself and sat back down on the low couch opposite the bed, staring blankly.

……

When she first arrived here, she had been very unaccustomed to the sitting postures of the people. High-legged chairs and stools were still only found in the northern tribes of the Hu people, and sitting with high legs was considered rude and uncivilized. Whenever she sat down in front of others, she could only maintain two postures. Either she knelt with her buttocks resting on her heels, which was a relatively relaxed everyday sitting posture, or she lifted her buttocks and straightened her upper body, known as "long kneeling" or "sitting on the heels," which was a posture for preparing to rise or to welcome guests, showing respect to others.No matter which sitting posture she adopted, Xiao Qiao couldn't maintain it for long, and certainly not like Chun Niang, who could sit still for hours on end while embroidering or doing needlework. Back at home, as long as there were no outsiders around, she would often stretch out her legs to relax, even if it meant risking Chun Niang's scolding for being unladylike. So, even now, she still hadn't mastered the art of kneeling for extended periods.

Xiao Qiao had been sitting upright on the couch for a long time, but Wei Shao still hadn't returned. The outside was eerily quiet, with no sound to be heard. She stretched out her legs, grabbed a cushion from the side, and relaxed her limbs, half-lying and half-leaning on the couch.

Outside, it was bitterly cold, but the brazier inside was burning brightly, filling the room with warmth. A faint scent of incense lingered in the air. She hadn't slept well the previous night, and after a long day, Xiao Qiao gradually grew drowsy. Just as she was about to drift off to sleep, she suddenly heard some movement.

Someone had arrived. Then, she heard a maid outside call out, "The Lord has returned."

"The Lord" was the respectful term used by the household servants and concubines to address the master of the house, as opposed to "the Lady."

Xiao Qiao's drowsiness vanished instantly. She rubbed her eyes and quickly sat up from the couch, returning to a kneeling position just as she heard the sound of the door being pushed open. She looked up and saw a tall figure swaying behind the screen, seemingly unsteady, as if he had stumbled.

Startled, Xiao Qiao quickly straightened up, ready to get off the couch to see what was happening. But the figure had already steadied himself, stepped around the screen, and appeared before her.

It was none other than Wei Shao.

He seemed to have drunk quite a bit. His usually stern face was slightly flushed. After entering, he walked straight inside, removed his hair crown, and carelessly tossed it onto the dressing table with a clatter, not even glancing at Xiao Qiao, who was still kneeling upright on the couch. He turned and headed toward the large bed, pulling open the bed curtains with a jade clinking sound.

Then, with two thuds, his boots hit the floor, and the room fell silent.

……

Seeing that he had gone straight to bed and seemed to fall asleep almost instantly, Xiao Qiao finally relaxed her tense back.

She let out a sigh, her eyes fixed on Wei Shao on the bed, and slowly returned to a kneeling position.

He must have really fallen asleep. Or perhaps he was just drunk.

After a while, Xiao Qiao slowly stretched out her legs again, clenched her fists, and gently rubbed her sore and swollen legs, returning to her previous half-leaning, half-lying position.

And so, one lay on the bed, and the other on the couch, coexisting peacefully.

The air in the room, already filled with the scent of incense, was now mixed with the smell of alcohol emanating from Wei Shao. After a while, she no longer noticed it, though her head felt a bit heavy from the fumes.

The night was deep. Xiao Qiao sat leaning on the couch, drifting in and out of sleep. Each time she suddenly woke up, she would open her eyes wide, see that Wei Shao was still lying on the bed as before, and then relax again, drifting back to sleep. This happened several times, until the last time she woke up, it was from the cold.

Outside the window, it was still pitch black. Judging by the length of the remaining wedding candles on the candlestick, it was probably around the fourth watch. The charcoal in the brazier had nearly turned to ash, emitting only a faint warmth. As the room cooled, the cold from outside began to seep in.Xiao Qiao felt a chill run through her body. She hugged herself, rubbing her arms where a fine layer of goosebumps had formed from the cold. Estimating that it would still be a while until dawn, she glanced at Wei Shao on the bed. Seeing that he hadn’t moved for a long time, she hesitated for a moment before finally getting up and tiptoeing toward the bed.

It was customary among the noble class, whether or not the couple shared a bed, to always have two quilts on the bed.

Wei Shao was lying only on the outer edge of the bed, not covered by a quilt. Both quilts were neatly folded and placed on the inner side of the bed.

Xiao Qiao made almost no sound as she finally reached the foot of the bed, stopping in front of Wei Shao’s feet.

She stole a glance at him.

He was lying on his back, his tall frame and long legs taking up most of the bed. The flushed redness from earlier in the night had faded from his face. Perhaps because the corner of the bed was dimly lit, his complexion appeared unusually serene, his thick, dark eyebrows even more striking. His eyes were closed, and he was still deeply asleep.

Holding her breath, Xiao Qiao leaned forward as slowly as possible, her body extending over his legs. She reached out a hand, trying to pull the quilt closest to her. But just as she did, Wei Shao beneath her seemed to suddenly awaken. Without warning, his eyes snapped open, and in the next instant, she heard the sharp sound of a sword being unsheathed. Before she could even process what was happening, Wei Shao had swiftly drawn a long sword from under his pillow and flipped off the bed. A cold sensation brushed her ear as the tip of the sword pressed tightly against the side of her throat.

All of this happened in the blink of an eye.

Xiao Qiao froze.

She could clearly feel the cold edge of the sword against the skin of her neck. It was a different kind of coldness compared to the chill in the air.

She could even detect a faint, metallic sweetness.

She knew it was the scent of blood.

Slowly, she turned her head and met his eyes.

His eyes still bore faint red streaks, and a subtle hint of killing intent emanated from them.

“I was cold. I was just trying to get a quilt. I didn’t mean to disturb you,” she said in a voice that sounded calm.

But in her heart, she was certain she hadn’t touched him at all.

Wei Shao stared at her for a few seconds, then glanced around the room, which was decorated in deep crimson. It was as if he had just realized something. He closed his eyes, raised his other hand to rub his forehead, and the killing aura around him finally dissipated.

He slowly lowered the sword.