Не tооk hеr glass lantern frоm hеr and invited hеr inside to sit. Тhеrе wаs а sрeciаl spot on the doorfrаmе for hаnging the саrrуing рolе, аnd аs hе liftеd his arm tо placе it thеre, thе soft sleevе of his robе brushed agаinst thе bасk оf hеr hаnd, faintly rеminding hеr of thе fаllеn blossоms scаttеred aсrоss the grоund at the West Flоwery Gatе.
Не smiled grаcefully. "Whаt's wrоng? Whу arе уоu stаnding thеrе in a dаzе?"
She lеt out аn "oh" and sаid, "I won't sit. I'll just sау а few wоrds аnd lеаve."
He tiltеd his head slightly, wearing аn exprеssion that sаid he hаd еxрected as much. "Is Your Highness afraid of me? A man and a woman alone—it’s not easy to get along, is it?"
Even though she was already married, since they hadn’t reached that stage yet, she was still just a young girl at heart. But this young girl was stubborn and didn’t like to admit defeat. "What is there to be afraid of? Others may fear you, but I don’t..."
"Then come in and sit. Whether you have something to say or not, keep me company for a cup of tea. The moonlight is so lovely tonight, I’m not sleepy at all."
He turned and walked inside, his attitude leaving no room for doubt. Wanwan had no choice. Watching him stand by the table, arranging the tea set, with the doors and windows of the room wide open, it wasn’t as awkward as she had imagined. After a moment of hesitation, she stepped inside.
This man was truly strange—completely different by day and by night. During the day, he was a ruler of his domain, but at night, he had his own small pleasures. He moved around the table preparing tea, the set of white porcelain tea utensils passing deftly through his fingers. As Wanwan watched for a while, a line suddenly came to mind: "With pure hands holding lotus blossoms, stepping lightly into the vast heavens." He seemed like an enlightened sage at this moment, free of any ambition or sharp edges, content and at ease, enjoying the beauty of spring flowers and autumn moonlight.
Seeing that she hadn’t approached, he turned and beckoned to her. "I have excellent Da Hong Pao tea, and I’ll add half a cup of almond milk. Drinking it won’t keep you awake at night."
She shuffled over and stood nearby, watching. "Why are you in the mood for this so late at night?"
He spoke with a tone of resignation. "The night is long, and I’m bored." He glanced at her meaningfully. "I suppose I’m the only one like this in the world—staying in the consort’s residence, with the consort refusing to see me. Those two walls feel like an impassable chasm I can’t cross. Now that the consort has come, I’m overwhelmed with honor. Please, have some of my tea, as thanks for your late-night visit."
Smooth-talking, yet impossible to fault, Wanwan picked up the teacup and took a small sip. For the first time, she felt that coming to the Southern Garden wasn’t so bad—there were occasional surprises, like his flute playing and his skill at preparing tea.
"That day when I played the qin, was it the Prince who harmonized with me?" She lightly licked her lips. "Your flute playing is truly excellent. I didn’t know you had such refined tastes."
"The Prince of Nanyuan—sounds like a mighty warrior who only enjoys practicing tai chi and shooting at straw targets, doesn’t it?" His gaze quickly shifted away from her clever tongue, and he restrained himself before teasing himself again. "My skills are not refined; I only have a rough understanding of music. I’m embarrassed to have shown off in front of you. Honestly, aside from the flute, I don’t know anything else. If you want to talk about elegance, I suppose wrestling is the closest thing." As he spoke, he laughed. "But you Xianbei people might not consider that elegant—threading needles, scooping water, reaching into the sea for pearls, stretching arms and legs—it probably looks like an uncivilized savage to you."He always spoke to her in that soft, gentle tone, so much so that when she heard him curse Rong Bao with "Think of your mother's Hachi," she thought she must have misheard. A man's steel and fire are reserved for where they are needed—neither too reckless nor too tender. Indeed, to truly know someone, one must spend time with them. A single glance cannot penetrate to the bone; beyond the surface, there are always other depths to uncover.
She did not sit either, pacing with a small peach blossom cup in hand. "Broad but shallow is inferior to focused and refined. Listening to your flute, I hear the spirit of Li Mo." She suddenly turned and smiled. "Deep yellow grass smoke, words left unspoken—that's the very essence."
Her glance under the lamplight left him utterly captivated. "A face like a flash of lightning"—that must describe her appearance. Such a person ought to have been born into an imperial family; humble origins could not bear such grace, and even noble households would struggle to honor her properly.
Seeing him dazed, she smiled again. "What? Did my praise strike too deep, leaving you flustered?"
He nodded self-deprecatingly. "Indeed, Your Highness praises with such depth. How could I, unworthy as I am, dare compare myself to Li Mo?"
"As the listener, I say you can, so you can." She playfully raised her cup to him. "And this tea is brewed wonderfully too. If there’s a chance another day, I’d like to ask the Prince about wrestling. I’ve only heard of 'striking,' never 'dancing.' What is dancing like? Is it like a dance?"
"Striking and dancing are different. Striking is bare-handed combat, while dancing involves steps and routines. Wrestling isn’t just for men; women can dance too." He set down his teacup and gestured. "Men like eagles, women like swallows—this is the highlight of banquets in the military barracks."
He demonstrated for her, a few rough moves that immediately piqued Wanwan’s interest. She knew of the Qi People’s wrestling—wearing short-sleeved jackets, baring both arms, legs spread wide in a hunting stance, with no sense of beauty. But his was different. He wore loose robes, the wind stirring his clothes and his movements. That shade of azure seemed abrupt on him, yet it only made him more distinctive. His movements were bold but not crude, each contraction and release deliberate yet full of power, reminding her of the wrestling after the Song Dynasty, less competitive and more performative.
She watched, entranced, and when he turned his wrist, she followed suit. Noticing this, he approached to guide her, teaching her how to raise her hands and how to step. The lamplight flickered, the world shimmered, and the scent of fine sandalwood around him grew richer with every sweep of his sleeves. Wanwan formed a new impression of him: "a man like a bewitching spirit"—nothing could be more fitting.
Spinning in a daze, feeling weightless, she didn’t need to exert any effort, as he watched over her. This wrestling gradually transformed into a Hu Teng dance, with him leading her in swaying movements. Everything around them seemed to move, yet he remained as steady as a rock. A few stray strands of long hair obscured her vision, and she saw his bright eyes, those strange golden rings that seemed capable of drawing in one’s soul.
Suddenly, her foot stumbled, and the candle went out. Panicked and fearing a fall, he pulled her, and she lurched forward, stumbling straight into his embrace.The moonlight was truly beautiful, streaming in through the window and falling upon the tea set. The pristine white porcelain was tinged with a faint, ethereal blue, casting the entire room in a hazy, dreamlike glow. Still shaken, she clung tightly to the fabric of his chest. He lay half-reclined on the table, pressed closely against her in a posture that was both intimate and yet felt utterly natural.
Wanwan was startled into a cold sweat. She let out a soft sigh, attempting to ease the tension, but her own cheeks flushed crimson first.
His breath hovered near her lips, so close it made her heart race. She forgot why she had come here, how she had ended up in such a bewildering state. Ashamed, she tried to rise, but he gently pressed her back into his embrace.
"Wanwan," he whispered, his voice carrying a seductive allure, "we are husband and wife. Do not forget..."
Her heart pounded frantically. "Prince..."
His fingers traced her lips. "Call me Liangshi. It should have been this way long ago."
The candles in the room had already been extinguished, leaving only a single silk lantern beneath the eaves, illuminating the area from the threshold down to the steps. Backlit, she could not clearly see his features, only a vague silhouette that felt as familiar as if they had known each other for years.
"Does it feel like a dream?" he murmured. "Even in my dreams, I never imagined such a scene..."
Her mind was foggy, unsure of what to say. He propped himself up and kissed her lips.
He had wanted to do this for a very long time. With a wife of breathtaking beauty by his side, he had never dared to be presumptuous. Last time, it was thanks to the incense burner; she had been dazed, allowing him to take what he wished. Today, she was sober—neither drunk nor confused—and he wanted this to be real, mutually acknowledged, to firmly establish this bond between them.
His lips were clean and refreshing, not at all unpleasant. Wanwan trembled with nervousness but made no move to push him away. He did not rush, his kisses lacking aggression, as if afraid she might recoil. He would touch and withdraw, then return again, and again... At first, she stared blankly, wide-eyed, but slowly her eyes closed. The drumbeat of his heart thundered against her; he thought his long-awaited sweetness was finally near—she must like him a little, after all.
He spoke of dreams, and it truly felt like falling into one. There was fear in the kiss, but when he drew near, her heart swelled with joy. Wanwan sadly realized that perhaps the Eunuch Official was no longer her greatest longing. She had fallen in love with her own husband; tonight, the Prince of Nanyuan was indeed more captivating than the Eunuch Official.
Both were somewhat flustered, their breaths uneven. He cupped her face, kissing her forehead, the tip of her nose, the corners of her eyes. "Wanwan, my darling..."
Hmm, she rarely heard such an endearment. Only deep love could inspire such a term. Wanwan felt shy yet grateful. Even if their marriage began with schemes, he held some genuine affection for her.
Once intimacy began, it was hard to stop. He desired much, but she might not be ready to fully immerse herself just yet. He could not be too impatient, lest he frighten her. Struggling to restrain himself, he stopped at the brink of collapse. Sixth Brother had once told him that seducing a woman was like fishing with bait—you couldn’t feed her all at once. You had to leave room for her to savor the memory, so she would bite again next time. If he acted like a reckless fool now, she might later reflect and feel taken advantage of, resenting him too much to ever acknowledge him again.Mastering this move indeed required immense self-control. Fortunately, she didn’t cling or entangle further—if she had kissed him back, his restraint would likely have crumbled completely. Releasing her, they stood together in the dim light, both momentarily dazed. He found her hand along her shoulder and laced his fingers tightly with hers. Wanting to say something but unable to find the words, they shared a knowing smile. In that moment, he felt he could ask for nothing more in this life.
“It’s late. Let me walk you back.”
She hummed in agreement, allowing him to lead her to the door. He took down a glass lantern from the wall and saw her standing gracefully under the corridor, her complexion even more radiant than before.
After the earlier chaos, both felt a bit awkward. He averted his gaze to steady his mind. “Did you come to see me for something?”
Only then did Wanwan remember, suddenly feeling flustered. “Well… they weren’t comfortable with me going to Huaining alone. I came to ask you—what does ‘traveling light’ actually mean? Just two or three people?”
So that was all it was—nothing major. He smiled. “Not quite that minimal. There will be about ten people traveling together. You can pick someone to bring along, so if I’m too busy, you won’t feel lonely. Don’t worry about anything else—I’ll handle everything.” He descended the steps first, holding the lantern in one hand and reaching out with the other to assist her.
Wanwan grew increasingly embarrassed the more she thought about what had just happened. “I can go back on my own. There’s no need to escort me.”
He teased, refusing to agree. “I’ll walk you to the palace entrance. I won’t enter your chambers tonight, so you can rest assured.”
She stood on the steps, her face flushed. He looked up at her, recalling the moment years ago when he had been bent over by the Silk-clad Guard and their eyes had met as she sat in her sedan chair.
No matter how much he loved her, it never felt enough—as if he hadn’t given his all and had somehow failed her. She puffed out her cheeks, her lovely, baby-soft skin tinged with a hint of resentment. When she didn’t come down, he swept her up by the waist and held her tightly, unwilling to let go. How wonderful it would be to stay entwined like this forever!
Wanwan worried that Tong Huan and Xiao You might still be waiting, and how embarrassing it would be if they saw. She stammered, “In broad daylight…”
“There’s no sun right now, only the moon,” he murmured, resting his chin on the top of her head. “We’re husband and wife—there’s nothing to fear if others see us. I don’t regret it at all. Others fall in love and then worry endlessly, afraid their bond isn’t strong enough to keep them together. But us? We married first, then slowly grew closer. Now that we’ve fallen in love, there’s nothing to hold back. You are mine, and I am yours.”
Wanwan listened quietly, a pang of sorrow tightening her nose. “But what if we hadn’t fallen in love? Wouldn’t the risk have been too great—to become resentful partners for a lifetime?”
He bent down to meet her eyes, his tone brimming with pride. “I’m this wonderful—of course you’d fall for me. As for me, I’ve been captivated by you for a long time. It’s just that you never noticed, and that’s hurt me until today.”
Wanwan laughed at his arrogance but felt deeply guilty about the latter part of his words. Lowering her head, she fiddled with the sash of her skirt and whispered, “I’m not like you… I wasn’t so quick to understand my feelings.”His expression darkened. "Are you talking about those concubines? I had no choice... Without children, I couldn't become a Feudal Prince. If I couldn't even secure that title, dreaming of marrying a princess would be pure delusion. The Imperial Concubine placed three women in my chambers. Madam Tala and Madam Zhou each bore a son, so I felt secure about the future. As for Madam Chen... I've never touched her." He clenched his fist anxiously. "My body may not be pure, but my heart is. This is the first time I've treated feelings so seriously, and it's only with you."
He must rarely express loyalty, for his words carried a blunt, forceful sincerity. Wanwan pondered quietly; what he said was likely true. She remembered the old aunt, Princess Ronghui, who reluctantly married an Imperial Consort—a high-ranking frontier official who took her to Minzhou after their wedding. Their marital discord was well-known. It began with mutual dislike, escalated into arguments, and eventually descended into physical violence. That poor Golden Branch and Jade Leaf was beaten beyond recognition. By the time her father intervened, it was too late—the old aunt had died. What good did executing the Imperial Consort do? She couldn't be brought back to life. So after marriage, a woman's happiness is something only she can truly know. Titles offer no protection; as a woman, you remain perpetually vulnerable. Princess Ronghui's case became widely known only because it escalated so dramatically. How many other princess couples throughout history endured lifetimes of superficial harmony? Imperial Consorts were forbidden to take concubines openly, but privately keeping mistresses in separate residences went largely unpunished unless impeached. The effort he was investing in her now wasn't out of obligation but genuine affection. She couldn't keep holding back, letting his earnest devotion fall into cold indifference. Adapting to circumstances, she needed to wake up herself.
She said, "Don't misunderstand—I wasn't referring to those three Secondary Consorts. I understand your intentions; otherwise, I wouldn't have sent them away. It's just that Madam Chen is pitiable. If you keep her but she has no children, while the others are surrounded by descendants in their old age, what will become of her?"
He led her slowly along the path, thinking for a moment. "Madam Tala and Madam Zhou are going to Songjiang Prefecture. She doesn't need to go. We can announce her death due to illness publicly and let her remarry to live her own life."
Hearing this, she felt he was quite enlightened, unlike other men obsessed with pride—once theirs, forever theirs, unwilling to let go even if things decayed.
She smiled faintly. "Won't you regret it?"
He blinked at her. "With you here, what would I regret?"
Her cheeks flushed again. "Let's hear her own wishes. If she's willing, set her free. I've noticed she seems very lonely in the mansion. The few times we met, she hardly spoke."
He hesitated; having never paid attention, he didn't know her situation. The person before him was already enough to worry about—how could he spare thought for her? They were departing tomorrow. He'd send word back later, asking the old lady to handle it. While she was still young, they shouldn't ruin her life.
Tonight, the bright moon was fresh and lovely, its pure light filling the world, illuminating the path without lanterns. Walking side by side, their hearts were at peace. After so long walking alone, suddenly having a companion—this feeling of relying on each other for survival couldn't be understood by those who didn't know love. He kept glancing at her, afraid everything before him was unreal. "Wanwan, will it still be like this tomorrow? No changes?"She bit her lip and remained silent. He pressed her again, and she chided him, "How annoyingly fussy! I'm not confused—today one way, tomorrow another!"
He felt relieved, beaming with joy, and clasped her hand in his palm.
Unfortunately, the path was too short, and they arrived quickly. Tong Huan and Xiao You waited under the eaves. Seeing their figures reach the drooping flower gate, they hurried out to greet them.
He couldn't say much and released her hand. "Let Yu Xixia follow. He can ride a horse, and I'll accompany you in the carriage."
She lifted her eyes, a hint of shyness still on her face. "Later, when it comes to washing clothes and such, it won't be convenient."
"I'll take care of it," he lowered his voice. "I'll wash your clothes for you, and won't let anyone else do it."
Wanwan felt waves of sweetness rising in her heart. Good heavens, this situation was truly enough to drown a person. He waited for her to agree, and she nodded. "You said it yourself. Later, don't go back on your word."
The two Servant Girls had already arrived, bowing to him in unison. As they respectfully stepped aside, he quickly embraced her. "I won't go back on my word." He stepped back two paces and waved to her.
Naturally, they all saw this little gesture. Tong Huan and Xiao You exchanged glances, while Wanwan felt utterly embarrassed. He, however, remained composed and solemnly instructed, "Attend to Your Highness and help her settle in early. We'll be setting off tomorrow."
Tong Huan and Xiao You acknowledged the order and came forward to support her back to her bedchamber. After walking a short distance, the melody of "Partridge Flying" sounded again from behind. Before Wanwan's eyes rose that azure sky, rippling and blending seamlessly with the vast heavens.
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