Lu Zhuo was a military general, yet in everyone's eyes, he resembled more of a scholar—fair-skinned and handsome, with an elegant and gentle smile that even allowed street vendors to feel comfortable striking up conversations with the Young Lord.
Including Wei Rao. Though she had witnessed his dashing prowess on horseback and seen him single-handedly fend off over a dozen assassins, Lu Zhuo's face was too disarming, lulling one into lowering their guard. Especially since Wei Rao had quarreled with him countless times, and almost every time, it was Lu Zhuo who bowed his head, seeking her forgiveness, coaxing and flattering her.
To Wei Rao, the most domineering Lu Zhuo had ever been was in the poplar grove of the imperial retreat. But even then, after she had slapped him three times, Lu Zhuo restrained himself, not daring to touch the collar of her dress—like a tame large dog, only daring to be presumptuous within the boundaries set by its master.
Thus, in Wei Rao's imagination, tonight's Lu Zhuo would maintain his usual gentleness and restraint. He would extinguish all the lamps in the room as she demanded, leaving only two red candles, draw the two layers of bed curtains, and in the darkness, fulfill what a newlywed couple ought to do.
However, when it actually happened, it was entirely different.
Not a single lamp was extinguished; the bed curtains hadn't even been drawn in time. With a tilt of her head, Wei Rao could see the candle flames on the wedding altar through the screen.
Naturally, Wei Rao was unwilling. But Lu Zhuo was simply a scoundrel. No matter how she hit him or cursed at him, he didn't utter a single word in response. He tore off his belt to bind her wrists, like a jackal finally pouncing on its prey, devouring it without even sparing her a glance. Cursing was useless; begging him was beneath her dignity. Wei Rao tightly shut her eyes, and in her fury and shame, she tried to kick him, but he easily restrained her.
"Lu Zhuo! If you keep this up, I'll really get angry!"
Wei Rao gritted her teeth as she spoke.
Lu Zhuo casually pulled off the red silk socks from her slender feet. Gazing at Wei Rao lying amidst the bright red wedding quilts, her jet-black hair spread chaotically beneath her, a few strands clinging to her flushed cheeks and snow-white shoulders—beautiful to the extreme, enchanting to the marrow—Lu Zhuo smiled. Holding onto Wei Rao's fiercely kicking little foot, he said, "Pray bear with it for now, Princess. Afterward, this subject is willing to accept punishment."
Wei Rao felt as if her mind exploded with a roar. He... how dare he actually do this?
Since Lu Zhuo had already gone this far, what was there left that he wouldn't dare?
During the day, no matter how willful or authoritative she was, Lu Zhuo had indulged her. But in the deep of night, undisturbed with only the two of them present, Lu Zhuo no longer wished to endure or yield. He wanted to make Wei Rao taste what it was like to have one's heart controlled by another, just as she had tormented him—unable to find peace, pushed to the limit until one casts everything aside and indulges wantonly.
He lifted Wei Rao, undoing the bindings on her hands. Once freed, Wei Rao reached out and scratched his back fiercely twice.
A light chuckle sounded by her ear. Before Wei Rao could vent her resentment, Lu Zhuo once again swept her to the crest of the storm.
Dawn had just begun to break. Liuya yawned, dressed herself, put away her bedding, went to the side room to wash her face, then returned carrying water to quietly wipe the tables and chairs and tidy the room.
Soon, Bitao arrived as well.
Both maids had dark circles under their eyes, all because last night they had waited for the Young Lord and the Princess to call for water, only to wait until the third watch. The Princess's cursing grew increasingly feeble, and their legs grew increasingly numb from standing. Throughout the rear courtyard, only the Young Lord seemed forged of iron, somehow brimming with endless energy.The side chamber had been cleaned, and just as they were tidying the main hall, a sudden creaking sound came from within.
Bitao and Liuya both tensed up. After eavesdropping so much last night, the Young Lady seemed fine—she was their mistress of over ten years, after all—but the Young Lord... Though he hadn’t made a sound last night, the pitiful sobs they’d heard from the Young Lady made it clear he hadn’t been up to any good.
The curtain was lifted, and a figure in red robes emerged—tall and straight, with a jade pendant hanging at his waist, exuding an air of elegance.
Bitao and Liuya simultaneously paused their tasks and bowed to the Young Lord.
Lu Zhuo said, "There will be tea offerings this morning. Wake the Young Lady in two quarters of an hour."
With that, he strode out.
The two maids breathed a sigh of relief. By the time everything was tidied up, nearly two quarters of an hour had passed. Bitao went to instruct the junior maids to prepare water, while Liuya entered the inner chamber first.
The dragon-and-phoenix red candles on the wedding table had burned down, leaving two trays full of crimson wax. Behind the screen, the red bed curtains hung low. Recalling the noises they’d overheard the night before, Liuya’s face warmed, and she tiptoed around the screen.
"Young Lady, it’s time to rise," Liuya called softly.
The beauty sleeping soundly in the bed furrowed her brow and turned inward.
Bitao arrived as well. There was absolutely no sleeping in today. The two maids flanked the bed and lifted the curtains together. As they drew them aside, a strong scent wafted over—a familiar, faint sweetness from the Young Lady, mingled with an unfamiliar, peculiar odor, reminiscent of flowering quince.
As the scent gradually dissipated, they saw their mistress curled under the blankets, unwilling to wake. Bitao leaned one hand on the bed and gently brushed her mistress’s earlobe with the other.
Wei Rao hummed in protest and swatted her hand away.
She was wearing loose red underwear, and as she raised her arm, a pale, delicate wrist was exposed. It was precisely because her skin was so fair that the faint bluish bruise around it struck Bitao’s eyes sharply. Liuya, standing nearby, saw it too. Wei Rao’s delicate skin had been meticulously cared for by them for years—how could it be injured out of nowhere?
"Young Lady, did the Young Lord bully you?" Bitao grasped Wei Rao’s hand, her voice filled with concern.
Wei Rao was truly awake now. With her arm held up by Bitao, she turned over and saw the bruise.
Had Lu Zhuo bullied her?
Memories of the previous night flooded her mind like a tide. She felt both embarrassed and resentful. If "bullying" meant what he’d done, then yes, he had bullied her. Yet, the illustrated manuals described the consummation between a man and a woman in just that way. Lu Zhuo had merely been overly domineering and forceful—he hadn’t done anything improper. Besides, Wei Rao had only been angry with him at first; later, lost in the throes of passion, how could she have cared about anything else?
"No, don’t let your imagination run wild," Wei Rao withdrew her arm and glanced at the sky outside. "Where is the Young Lord?"
Liuya replied, "The Young Lord woke early and instructed us to wake you at this time."
Wei Rao nodded.
She had bathed the night before and felt refreshed, though her body now bore several suggestive marks. The two maids blushed shyly, while Wei Rao silently cursed Lu Zhuo ten thousand times in her heart. It was wise of him to leave early—had he still been lying beside her when she woke, she would surely have given him a piece of her mind.
As Wei Rao was combing her hair, Lu Zhuo finally reappeared.
Without turning her head, Wei Rao watched him in the mirror. Dressed in red brocade robes, his handsome face appeared serene and detached, as if devoid of desire. Who would have guessed that at night, he would transform into such a frivolous creature?As she was lost in thought, Lu Zhuo glanced her way, and their eyes met in the mirror.
Wei Rao averted her gaze as if scalded by fire.
A faint smile touched Lu Zhuo’s lips as his eyes drifted to the meticulously arranged canopy bed, his throat tightening with a swallow. Last night’s Wei Rao had been like a flower spirit born of tender white peonies, enchanting enough to make a man willingly die beneath her skirt. Yet, that version of Wei Rao would only ever be witnessed by him in this lifetime.
As if guided by some unseen force, Lu Zhuo suddenly recalled the line Consort Yang had insisted Emperor Yuanjia add to the imperial decree.
A pity—he would never give Wei Rao the chance to divorce him.
On their way to Zhongyi Hall to offer tea, Lu Zhuo dismissed Wei Rao’s maid, leaving just the two of them to proceed alone.
Wei Rao stared straight ahead, acting as though Lu Zhuo were invisible.
“Is the Princess angry about last night?” Lu Zhuo leaned closer and asked in a low voice.
His warm breath brushed her earlobe—the very spot he had ravaged countless times the night before. The shiver buried deep in her skin reawakened, sending heat coursing through her body. Yet her willow-leaf eyebrows arched in fury as she glared at him. “If you so much as mention last night again, don’t even think about stepping into my room tonight.”
Lu Zhuo adopted a serious tone. “This subject meant no disrespect. It’s just that last night, I said I would willingly accept punishment for any offense caused to the Princess.”
No matter how earnest he appeared, it was all teasing in the end. Furious, Wei Rao lunged forward, reaching to pinch his ear and expose his pretense!
But before her hand could reach him, Lu Zhuo seized her slender waist and lifted her abruptly. Startled, Wei Rao gripped his shoulders as the world spun around her. In an instant, he had pinned her against a nearby willow tree.
The willow branches, newly adorned with tender leaves, swayed gently behind Lu Zhuo, his handsome face now inches from hers.
Wei Rao gritted her teeth. “Aren’t you afraid someone might see?”
Lu Zhuo chuckled. “I’ve already checked—there’s no one around.”
“Even so, it’s not allowed. Let go of me now,” Wei Rao insisted anxiously. The Duke of Yingguo’s Manor had so many servants—what if someone happened to pass by? If they were seen, others wouldn’t blame Lu Zhuo; they’d only laugh at her for being seductive. Wei Rao didn’t mind being called unconventional, but she wanted no part of a reputation as a temptress.
Lu Zhuo simply enjoyed her fiery outbursts. Having teased her enough, he set her down.
Wei Rao smoothed her skirts, glanced around, shot him a sharp glare, and hurried ahead.
Lu Zhuo followed with a smile.
By the time they reached Zhongyi Hall, Wei Rao’s complexion had returned to normal. Yet, recalling that she had already served tea to the elders once before, she felt a wave of embarrassment. Her previous separation from Lu Zhuo had been due to unresolved conflicts between them—issues that made it impossible to continue—but she held no grievances toward the Lu family elders.
Lu Zhuo observed how Wei Rao, who usually carried herself with haughty pride in his presence, transformed into a demure, blushing, and shy young woman before the elders—a charm entirely her own.
“Your granddaughter-in-law offers tea to Grandfather and Grandmother,” Wei Rao said, her cheeks flushed as she presented the tea tray.
The Duke of Yingguo nodded and drank directly.
The Duchess of Yingguo studied the young couple for a moment before smiling. “My dear Raorao, I always knew that no matter what, you would remain my eldest grandson’s wife.”
Despite her words, given past experiences, after breakfast the Duchess took Wei Rao aside privately and asked softly, “Raorao, last night, did Shoucheng and you…”Wei Rao's face flushed so deeply it seemed about to drip blood. Before the Old Madam could finish speaking, she covered her ears and ran to stand by the doorway. She couldn't actually leave—she had to wait for the fire in her cheeks to subside first.
The Duchess of Yingguo watched her daughter-in-law's bashful display with a beaming smile, finally feeling reassured.
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