Chapter 25

Chapter 25

In the dim light, Ming Tang’s eyes fluttered open in astonishment, her gaze settling on Pei Yue, who was half-propped up, looking down at her. It was late, and his long hair, usually tied up during the day, now cascaded freely, lending him a relaxed air quite unlike his usual daytime demeanor.

From her position below, Ming Tang couldn't quite discern Pei Yue's expression, but she couldn't help but notice the remarkable length of his eyelashes. Perhaps due to his movements, the collar of his inner robe was slightly disheveled, revealing a small patch of smooth skin where the fabric overlapped, and the straight line of his collarbone disappeared beneath the cloth.

Ming Tang was momentarily stunned, her thoughts scattering, and she forgot what she had been pondering earlier. Unbeknownst to her, her own dark hair sprawled across the pillow, her gaze soft and yielding—an expression Pei Yue took as tacit consent. He leaned in, bending slightly closer.

As their garments were gradually shed, the temperature within the bed curtains seemed to rise. The sensation of skin against skin sent a slight shiver through Ming Tang, and everywhere she looked, temptation beckoned. She admitted to herself that she was susceptible to beauty's allure, and soon, she found herself equally engaged.

After all, desire was human nature, and this was her wedded husband—why overthink it?

Yet, in the midst of her distraction, she couldn’t help feeling a twinge of regret. Lifting her eyes to Pei Yue’s increasingly captivating face, she decided it wasn’t unbearable.

Once the passion had subsided and they had washed, Ming Tang couldn’t help but entertain a few new thoughts. Recalling the experience, she silently repeated to herself: *Form is emptiness, emptiness is form.*

Previously, she had lamented Pei Yue’s supposed incapacity, but now she hesitated due to the less than satisfying experience. Returning to the inner chamber, the two of them wordlessly settled under separate quilts, the boundary between them as clear as the divide between rival territories.

Beside her, Pei Yue turned his head slightly, gazing deeply at her peaceful sleeping face in the candlelight, silently suppressing the urges that had resurfaced during their ablutions.

They had both had a long day—he ought to be considerate of Ming Tang’s exhaustion.

Closing his eyes, Pei Yue had expected that sharing a bed might make it difficult for him, accustomed to sleeping alone, to drift off. Yet, to his surprise, he soon fell into a deep slumber, lulled by the faint, soothing fragrance in the room.

*

The next morning, Ming Tang woke as usual. When she opened her eyes, Pei Yue was already gone—his side of the bed neatly made, as if no one had slept there at all.

*Had she overslept?* That didn’t seem right.

Rising, she pushed open the window and glanced at the sky. The light was still weak, indicating it was early. Reassured, she moved leisurely, draping a robe over herself before heading to the side chamber to wash up.

Hot water was already prepared. After wiping her face with a cloth, Ming Tang returned to the inner chamber, catching sight of an unfamiliar maid entering through a small door in the side chamber. The maid bowed silently before beginning to tidy up.

Momentarily impressed by the impeccable service in the Duke’s residence, Ming Tang returned to find Zhe Liu and Wen He selecting her attire for the day.

Since it was still the early days of her marriage, her two maids had instinctively selected ceremonial red garments and matching jewelry without waiting for her input. Aware of the customs, Ming Tang let them decide without comment.

Once dressed, with her hair still loose, Ming Tang stepped into the outer chamber. Breakfast was already laid out. As she was about to sit down, she suddenly remembered the man who had shared her bed the night before and asked, “Do you know when the young master rose?”

“Around the third quarter of the Yin hour,” Zhe Liu replied. “When we came to the Duke’s residence for the wedding, a maid named Hong Ying mentioned that the young master rises at that time daily, has breakfast, then leaves for his duties, returning in the evening for supper.”

*Every day—even during his wedding leave?* Ming Tang couldn’t help but admire his discipline.

Even her father, Vice Minister Ming—a diligent official who had achieved the rank of vice minister before fifty and had hopes of joining the Grand Secretariat before sixty—allowed himself to sleep in a little on his days off, rising half an hour later than usual.

As for herself, though the lack of nightlife in ancient times forced her to keep early hours, she had never managed to rise so early.

Ming Tang had always respected those with self-discipline. Sitting at the table, she surveyed the array of breakfast dishes and decided to wait for Pei Yue—a small gesture of reverence for his habits.

Fortunately, Pei Yue didn’t keep her waiting long. Just as her waning patience was about to wear out, he entered from outside, bringing with him a cool morning breeze.

Noticing the slight dampness at his temples, as if he had just been sweating, Ming Tang asked curiously, “Did you go for a morning exercise?”

“Mm. Took the horse for a few laps around the rear training grounds.”

Still unaccustomed to returning to his quarters to find someone there, Pei Yue responded a beat slower than usual. Yet, recalling the reason for his early ride, his ears grew warm again.

His gaze drifted to Ming Tang’s face. Her expression was calm, her eyes clear—none of last night's occasional dazed fascination. His movements faltered imperceptibly before he took his seat opposite her.

As a new bride from an official’s family with little interaction with the nobility, Ming Tang was momentarily speechless upon hearing that the residence had its own training ground large enough for horseback riding.

*Just how grand is the Duke of Dingguo’s household?*

Her eyes flicked briefly to Pei Yue. Unsure if the Pei family had rules like “no talking during meals,” she remained silent. She sipped a bowl of delicious chicken congee and sampled the various pastries and side dishes until she was satisfied but not overfull, then set down her chopsticks.

Once done, her gaze inevitably returned to Pei Yue. Oblivious to her scrutiny, he ate swiftly yet gracefully, nearly clearing the table.

After the meal, noticing her still-loose hair, Pei Yue reminded her, “We must be at Dingyuan Hall by the hour of Mao.”

The first day after the wedding was reserved for the family recognition ceremony at Dingyuan Hall. As Ming Tang’s formal debut in the household, with many relatives present, tardiness would be inappropriate.

“I know.” Ming Tang nodded. Before the wedding, the Duke’s household had briefed her on the proceedings, including the approximate number of attendees. After all, if she, the future mistress, arrived unprepared without suitable gifts, it would reflect poorly on the Pei family.

Returning to the dressing table, Wen He swiftly arranged her hair and adorned it with the prepared ornaments, gradually transforming her into the image of a noble lady of the capital.

Adjusting the tassels of her hair ornaments at her temples and fastening the matching earrings, Ming Tang rose and turned to Pei Yue, who sat nearby. “Young master, we may leave now.”

Pei Yue’s gaze swept over her, confirming her impeccable appearance, then stood and led the way. After a few steps, he glanced back, slowing his pace to let Ming Tang catch up so they could walk side by side.

They proceeded in silence along the stone-paved path. Ming Tang was unbothered, but Pei Yue frowned slightly before breaking the quiet. “You didn’t eat much this morning. Was the food not to your liking? If it doesn’t suit you, we can set up a small private kitchen in Chengyi Hall—supplies can be procured through the main household.”

Ming Tang paused, recalling the meal. *This is the first time in my life someone’s called me a sparing eater.*

“The kitchen’s skills are excellent. I have no complaints,” she said honestly. “And I actually ate quite a bit.”

Silence fell again, but Dingyuan Hall soon came into view, providing a natural transition to new topics. By the time they crossed the threshold, Ming Tang had a rough understanding of the personalities she might encounter that day.

At Dingyuan Hall, the Duke and Duchess of Dingguo sat at the head, flanked by seats filled with the Duke’s extended family.

With no veil obstructing her view, Ming Tang finally got a clear look at her father-in-law, the Duke of Dingguo, as she knelt to serve tea.

A man in his fifties, his face bore the marks of time. Though traces of his youthful handsomeness lingered, his eyes lacked the Duchess’s vitality, appearing somewhat weary—just an ordinary old man.

Kneeling beside Pei Yue on the cushion, Ming Tang offered the ceremonial gifts and addressed him as “Father” while presenting tea. The Duke accepted the cup without delay, took a sip, and nodded in approval—but offered nothing more.

Custom dictated that after the address, elders should offer a few words of advice and gifts to signify their acceptance of the new couple.

The Duke’s silence drew a flicker of displeasure from Pei Yue, which he quickly suppressed. He glanced at Ming Tang, worried she might feel unsettled by his father’s indifference. To his surprise, she showed no hesitation, immediately presenting another cup of tea to the Duchess and addressing her as “Mother.”

The Duchess was perhaps the most purely delighted person present.

From the moment Pei Yue and Ming Tang entered, she had been observing them discreetly.

Pei Yue, clad in wedding crimson, was radiant in the elaborate attire. Ming Tang, also in red, wore ruby earrings that shimmered like fire—yet they didn’t overshadow her. Instead, they drew attention to her bright, serene eyes, like polished jade.

Side by side, they complemented each other like the sun and moon, embodying the phrase “a perfectly matched pair.”

When Pei Yue frowned at the Duke’s dismissiveness but Ming Tang remained unruffled, continuing the ceremony flawlessly, the Duchess’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

Her son clearly cared deeply for this wife, and the girl was worthy of him. Her efforts to secure this match against opposition had not been in vain.

Accepting the tea, the Duchess took a sip and had a maid receive Ming Tang’s gifts. Smiling warmly, she delivered the customary admonitions before signaling another maid to step forward with a tray.

Ming Tang looked up to see an exquisitely crafted hair ornament set and a pair of iridescent glass cups that seemed to shift colors with every movement—utterly dazzling.

With a smile, the Duchess said lightly, “These are from your father and myself,” smoothly covering for the Duke’s silence.

After the formal greetings, they both stood up. Ming Tang took the opportunity to glance swiftly at the Duke of Dingguo, noting his unchanged expression, though his fingers gripping the armrest betrayed a hint of tension, revealing some emotion.

She made a mental note of this detail. Ming Tang proceeded alongside Pei Yue to greet the other relatives in the hall.

The Duke's family tree was surprisingly straightforward. The previous Duke and his wife had passed away, leaving only two sons—the eldest being the current Duke, while the younger had been set up in his own household. The present Duke, in turn, had only two sons: the elder, Pei Jun, had died in battle at the frontier three years prior, leaving behind a posthumous son, Pei Ze, while the younger was Pei Yue.

However, as a long-established aristocratic family, the Dingguo household still had numerous branches. Though not particularly populous in these times, enough important relatives had come for the recognition ceremony to fill the Dingyuan Hall to capacity.

After paying respects to the more closely related or highly respected elders among the branches alongside Pei Yue, completing the exchange of gifts, it was finally time for the part where Ming Tang only gave gifts (without receiving any in return)—accepting the greetings of the younger generation.

First in line was little Pei Ze, whom she had met a few times before.

Led by Nanny Zhou, Pei Ze walked step by step to stand before Ming Tang. Following what he had been taught, he bowed and looked up, saying, "To..."

His cheeks puffed out as he struggled repeatedly but still couldn't utter the most crucial syllable of the phrase. Standing in the open space at the center of the hall under everyone's gaze, Pei Ze's face flushed red with effort. Finally giving up, he spoke slowly, word by word, "G-greetings... Mother!"