Мany girls hаvе рrоbаbly imagined whаt thеir wedding daу would be likе—finding а gооd mаn, living in hаrmony, рeace, and haррiness. Wаnwan hаd аlsо lоokеd fоrwаrd tо it, thоugh not in grеat detail. Неr genеral directiоn was simplу to live а gооd lifе, frее оf turmoil, much likе hеr time in thе раlaсe. Yеt, shе hopеd fоr morе freedom thаn in the palасе, with no оne to restrаin hеr, аllowing hеr tо gо оut fоr wаlks whenеvеr she рleаsed.
Thus, whаt she wаntеd wаs nevеr соmрlicated. Unfоrtunately, the simplеr it seemed, thе harder it wаs to асhievе. Her background had long destined her to never attain the happiness of an ordinary person. Perhaps she would struggle through storms and waves her entire life, without even a moment to catch her breath.
The Imperial Consort entered, refined and elegant, with a dignified bearing. Through the crimson veil, Wanwan looked at him. She had once believed that one’s appearance reflected their character, but now she realized this notion was worth questioning. Someone who seemed upright and honorable was, in reality, nothing more than that.
She tucked her hands neatly over her abdomen. Sensing her shoulders and back had slackened, she steeled herself once more. Tonight was the first direct confrontation, and she absolutely could not afford to lose.
If there was any nervousness, it was certainly present. She had never quite understood how she had ended up married like this. Her marriage began with a conspiracy, and how it would end remained unknown. Looking back, the journey to this day felt like a dream, as if a sudden thunderclap could wake her at any moment. Unfortunately, this nightmare was real. She could see the vibrant colors of the bridal chamber, feel the intricate embroidery on her gown, and hear the sound of his footsteps drawing closer.
He stood before her. The veil covering her face blurred her outline, but he could still see the small, delicate, and luminous earlobes beneath the broad temple ornaments. Even without seeing her face, he felt no panic—he knew it must be her.
A Servant Girl brought the wedding scale. He firmly grasped the section wrapped in red paper. Lifting his sleeve to lift the veil, its edge slowly rose, revealing a delicate chin and small, crimson lips... A faint smile appeared on his face, gradually widening into an irrepressible joy.
Marrying a princess was something every man dreamed of. While others might seek the honor, he, to a large extent, was genuinely following his own heart. Of course, it couldn’t be said there was no ulterior motive. As a Feudal Prince and Imperial Consort, along with the princess’s descent came the golden-embroidered yellow jacket, symbolizing unrestricted access to the capital in the future... But setting aside politics, he wholeheartedly desired the princess’s arrival.
Stationed in Jiangnan, he was well-informed about everything in the capital. At first, she occupied only a small part of the secret reports, but gradually, her presence grew until a separate volume had to be dedicated to her, no longer mixed with current affairs. He understood clearly that power and love should be distinctly separated. He needed a consort of noble blood to accompany him day and night, to bear his children.
Yet, her temperament was too strong. At first glance, she appeared gentle and obedient, hardly someone associated with loyalty to the sovereign or concern for the world. Her smile was shy, her hands delicate and fair—she should have been content with her fate within the inner chambers. However, she bore such a name, Jun, as powerful as thunder, capable of harming others and herself. Emperor Xiaozong had indeed been too demanding of her.His gaze flowed over her face. From now on, this should be a new beginning. Even if she was unwilling, with time, she would gradually come to like him, wouldn’t she?
He leaned forward and cupped his hands in salute. "Your Highness has had a long journey. Liangshi should have chosen another auspicious day to welcome Your Highness’s arrival, but Peach Leaf Ferry is quite a distance from the Princess’s Residence. I couldn’t rest easy without coming to greet you myself." As he spoke, he made every effort to control his emotions, fearing that the slightest impropriety might frighten her.
She slowly raised her eyes, her gaze devoid of warmth. After a slight pause, she said, "The journey was smooth, thank you, Prince."
Her politeness carried a sense of distance. She wouldn’t blush shyly or act coy, completely unlike other brides. Different was good—he was still content.
A servant brought over a wine pot and a golden jue. He poured a cup, took a sip himself, and then handed it to her. She stood up, frowning at the golden jue. After drinking the wedding wine, they would truly be husband and wife.
Her heart still felt uncertain, but what could she do at this point? She reached out to take it. Unlike an ordinary cup, if it were a wine cup, she could turn it to avoid the spot he had touched, but the jue didn’t allow that. She had no choice but to brace herself and press the spout to her lips, taking a small sip before handing it back to him. He then finished the rest in one gulp.
This ritual had to be repeated once more, but with the roles reversed—she would pour the wine this time, symbolizing mutual respect and harmony. Wanwan was not skilled at drinking. She had once gotten drunk from eating fermented shrimp, and the sip she had just taken had already required great effort. The next round would likely require her to drink half a cup, and she had no choice but to brace herself. Fortunately, he drank most of it, leaving only a tiny sip for her to moisten her lips. It was a subtle gesture of consideration, sparing her from embarrassment.
After the wedding wine, they had to eat the "descendant dumplings." These were usually just dipped briefly in boiling water, so they remained raw and inedible. The bridesmaid would ask, "Are they raw?" and both had to answer in unison, "Raw," symbolizing a future full of descendants. Nanny Jingqi had taught her these customs beforehand, so she was well aware. However, the dumpling she bit into was somehow cooked, but she couldn’t question it. She vaguely said "raw" and spat the dumpling into the spittoon.
As for the status of the Imperial Consort and the princess, as he had said before, they were divided into ruler and subject. After the wedding wine, they still had to perform the ceremonial bows. A servant came forward to assist her in ascending to her seat. She sat on the throne facing west, while the Imperial Consort adjusted his attire and bowed to her twice. She then stood up on the footstool and returned the bows twice. With that, the wedding ceremony was complete.
In imperial households, banquets were usually not held on the same day, so he didn’t need to entertain guests or get drunk. After the servants arranged for them to sit side by side, they all bowed and withdrew from the bridal chamber.
Once the servants left, the room felt empty. In this unfamiliar environment, Wanwan felt only fear, not joy. Earlier, the Nurse Matron had briefly explained the process of the wedding night to her, describing it as an extremely mysterious affair. At the time, she had been confused but felt somewhat safe knowing she would be sharing it with him. But now, this person was far from what she had imagined. Aside from fear, what else could she feel?
She felt uneasy and quietly shifted to the side, putting some distance between them. She had imagined how she would vent her dissatisfaction upon seeing him—at the very least, she would question him sternly. But now that the moment had arrived, everything felt unnecessary. She couldn’t even bring herself to speak.He seemed to be struggling as well, turning to look at her with an expression of hesitation. After a long pause, he finally said, "It's getting late, Your Highness... let us retire."
The marriage between a princess and her Imperial Consort was different from ordinary marriages. The Princess's Residence had a Chief Secretary's Office, which included a bureau responsible for duties equivalent to those of the Imperial Clan Court. Every time the Imperial Consort was summoned to see the princess, or when he stayed overnight for marital relations, strict records were kept. Therefore, the Imperial Consort could not enter the Princess's Residence at will. If he offended the princess, the housekeeper Nurse Matron could reprimand or even dismiss him. Of course, this only applied when the Imperial Consort held no power. On the grounds of the Southern Garden, these rules were not significant. Adhering to them was ultimately out of respect for her, which made their meetings exceptionally rare.
Wanwan's heart pounded like thunder, each beat almost piercing through her eardrums. After marriage, she was expected to be intimate with her Imperial Consort and bear his children. She was unwilling, but recalling the Emperor's earlier admonitions and weighing the situation repeatedly, she feared that keeping him at a distance would arouse his suspicion and hinder her plans. She truly did not know how she could be so fearless—at such a moment, her mind was occupied with these thoughts. There was simply no escape, and she felt utterly resigned.
Dragging her trembling legs, she walked to the bronze mirror. At first glance, the heavy makeup that obscured her eyebrows and eyes startled her. Upon closer inspection, she realized it must have been the Nurse Matron who had applied layer after layer of makeup, resulting in this appearance. The person in the mirror was her, yet it felt somewhat unfamiliar. She raised her arm, and the reflection did the same. She sighed and began removing the phoenix crown and broad temple ornaments.
Wearing the bridal attire for so long was an exhausting task. Yin Lou had once weighed her head ornaments with a scale—they were a full ten pounds heavy. Aside from the hairpins and rings visible from the front, a significant portion was pinned at the back of her head, requiring her to slowly feel her way around.
The gilded pavilion ornaments were incredibly heavy! With each piece she removed, the pressure on her neck lessened. Her head had never ached so much before. He approached, his face reflected in the dimly lit mirror. Lowering his gaze, he helped her remove the peach-shaped hairpins, then hesitated and glanced at her. "I know you are not yet accustomed to this, and perhaps you hold many prejudices against me. But there is still a long road ahead. Since we are now husband and wife, Liangshi pledges to treat Your Highness with his life."
Wanwan had not expected him to say this. If she had not overheard Yin Ge's words back then, she might have been deeply moved today and wholeheartedly devoted herself to building a life with him. But now, the wound had already formed, and no amount of mending could heal it. What was the point of feigning tenderness?
She was still unaccustomed to being too close to a stranger. Later, when they shared a bed, she did not know how to face him. As he stood behind her, she felt as though needles were pricking her back. She did not want the situation to become awkward, but her silence did not mean she was ignorant.
She subtly stepped away, retreating two paces before saying, "You exaggerate, Prince. On such a joyous day, why speak of such matters? I have been traveling for a month, and my mind is still in a daze. If I have been neglectful, I beg your forgiveness."
She did not make a fuss, nor did she utter a single harsh word, which only made him uneasy. Years of rigid discipline had long reshaped her nature. For instance, upon seeing a flower, a girl who loved beauty might pluck it to adorn her hair, but she would not. Perhaps she would glance at it from afar, not even inhaling its fragrance, before turning away indifferently.He wished she would voice her displeasure and doubts, but she stubbornly refused, making the situation difficult. He could not bring it up himself, lest he appear to be confessing without being pressed, and also alert her to the fact that his spies were always around her. He could only pretend ignorance, feigning confusion in the face of her dissatisfaction. But this was like covering a wound, keeping it from the light of day, allowing it to fester and rot even deeper.
She resisted him, her actions and tone unconsciously building a high wall. No matter how hard he tried, he could not scale it. She retreated behind the screen to wash her face, removing the thick layers of powder and rouge. When she reappeared, her face was clean and natural, a stark contrast to the resplendent and solemn wedding attire.
She still looked exactly as he had seen her at last year's grand banquet hosted by the Feudal Prince—her eyes delicate and captivating, her gaze radiant. In her presence, he felt shabby and inferior. So what if he had married her? They could not be close or love each other; her heart was a thousand miles away from his.
"Does Your Highness despise me?" he asked, standing before the red candles, his brow furrowed. "You must have been very reluctant to descend to the Southern Garden, right?"
A flicker of surprise passed through her eyes, but she quickly regained her composure. "What does the Prince mean by that? I am already in Jinling. Whether I was willing or not, does it matter?"
He removed his ceremonial crown and placed it on the nearby hat stand, turning his head slightly. His dark, neatly trimmed hairline was sharp as a knife's edge. He seemed disappointed by her answer, lowering his head and remaining silent for a long while.
His silence made Wanwan feel even more awkward. Such a wedding night, starting off so poorly, felt almost laughable—a marriage built on discord and estrangement.
She lay down fully clothed, pulling the quilt over herself and lying stiffly. He watched her strangely. "Your Highness, with the sash and cloud collar tangled up, I fear you won't sleep comfortably... You should take them off."
She replied, "The Prince need not worry. I prefer to sleep like this. Please, make yourself comfortable."
He was no inexperienced young man, yet in her presence, he found himself unable to employ even the slightest tactic. He walked to the bedside, standing there in distress for a moment. She closed her eyes, unwilling to look at him any longer.
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