Chapter 11

Chapter 11

As the waning moon hung obliquely at the eaves, the lingering warmth of the banquet had dissipated into the chill of the night.

Xie Zhiyan returned home through the night. The lantern light from the corridor slanted through the window lattice, casting its glow upon him. His features were sharp as if chiseled, stately and elegant, yet his lips were thin and pale, glistening with traces of wine, adding a layer of aloof reserve to his deep-set eyes.

He walked through the corridor, his silhouette under the lamplight looming like a mountain, each step appearing tall and broad-shouldered.

Xie Zhiyan frowned. He had intended to return directly to the Hall of Hidden Jade, but as he approached the three-way path near the moon gate, his gaze inadvertently fell upon a wine stain on his sleeve, accidentally splashed by someone earlier.

He abruptly halted his steps and turned toward the study.

"Sir, weren't you returning to the Hall of Hidden Jade?" Bannu was eating the *touhua ci* (translucent flower cakes) that Cang Guan had brought back for him from the Apricot Blossom Tower. Startled by Xie Zhiyan's sudden return, he nearly choked on a mouthful.

Xie Zhiyan lifted his eyes coldly, staring indifferently at the cake in Bannu's hand. "Don't talk with your mouth full."

Bannu hastily stuffed the remaining pastries into his mouth and swallowed them whole. "Sir, I've finished."

"Prepare water for my bath," Xie Zhiyan finally spoke to him.

"Yes, I'll go prepare it right away."

Seeing his master's displeased expression, Bannu swallowed the pastry while silently speculating to himself: Could it be that he returned late from drinking, had a quarrel, and so his wife banished him to the study?

The more he thought about it, the more plausible it seemed. Bannu quickly hurried off.

Xie Zhiyan walked to the desk and sat down. His icy eyes, hazy with drink, resembled scattered stars in the sky veiled by a thin gauze, making it impossible to discern the emotions within.

He pressed his pale fingertips to his brow, his gaze deepening as if recalling something.

"Qing Shi."

"Sir." Qing Shi was waiting just outside the study.

"On the day before my wedding, my father personally delivered a small sandalwood box. Do you remember where it was stored?" Xie Zhiyan lowered his eyes, his long lashes casting a shadow beneath them, concealing the quiet agitation stirring in his calm gaze.

"The box?" Qing Shi paused for a long moment before replying, "I remember you stored the box together with the betrothal document. It should be..."

"I see." Xie Zhiyan stood up and walked toward the inner room.

The room was enveloped in silence, and he did not light a lamp.

Moonlight spilled through the window, spreading a faint layer across the floor. The room was sparsely furnished, containing only a small couch and a desk near the window, equipped with writing brushes, ink, paper, and an inkstone.

Xie Zhiyan retrieved a key from the inkstone box on the desk, walked to the curio shelf opposite the bed, and unlocked one of the secured chests.

He stood quietly for a moment before reaching inside and taking out a small sandalwood box, no larger than his palm. On top of the box lay a bright red betrothal document.

His gaze shifted briefly, quickly scanning it.

The document read—Marquis Mingde's household, Sheng Puzhu... Seventh Year of Taichu, First Day of the First Month.

This was her name and birthdate. The thought flashed through Xie Zhiyan's mind before he silently put away the document.

As for the contents of the sandalwood box, though he had his suspicions, he was not entirely certain.

Closing his eyes, he slowly opened the box. As his sleeve slipped back, he withdrew a thin booklet.

The cold moonlight illuminated his deeply set features.

The moment he opened the booklet, his eyes met with exquisitely drawn, completely unclothed figures. In the blank spaces where the figures intertwined, lines of meticulously detailed annotations were written...

The winter wind was bone-chilling.

Yet he felt as though the wind carried a scorching heat, reminiscent only of midsummer.

His palm trembled slightly. With well-defined fingers, he pinched the first page of the cover and slammed it shut again.

The three characters "Bi Huo Tu" (Avoid-Fire Chart) abruptly pierced his vision.

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, a coldness instantly spreading. The hand holding the booklet revealed prominent veins, as if with the slightest exertion, the thin paper could be crushed.

So this was it.

Xie Zhiyan lowered his gaze, his eyes resting on the three characters "Bi Huo Tu." The corners of his lips lifted ever so slightly.

The harmony of marital relations—he had been arrogant. He sighed deeply within his heart.

On the night before his wedding, when his father had sought him out, he should have guessed it then.

But he had not taken it to heart at the time. Moreover, from the beginning of his education, he had studied the Six Arts of a Gentleman. The texts said, "Let emotions arise, but restrain them within the bounds of propriety." Upholding integrity and adhering to rules, he had assumed that the act of marital intimacy required only entry.

Fortunately, it was not too late to make amends.

Having made a mistake, he would naturally do his best to rectify it.

...

Just after the fifth watch, the sky had not yet brightened. Within the gauze curtains lingered a delicate, fresh scent.

Sheng Puzhu was deep in a dream, her fair fingers unconsciously clutching a corner of the brocade quilt. Her rosy lips parted slightly, and a light sweat dotted her neck. Seemingly feeling too warm, she had extended a pair of long legs from under the quilt, her bare feet pale pink and delicate without stockings.

Whatever she was dreaming, she let out two unconscious muffled groans from her throat. Her steady breathing suddenly hitched, her eyelashes fluttering as if she were about to wake.

"Who... are you?" Startled awake from a nightmare, Sheng Puzhu opened her eyes to see a figure standing outside the curtain. She nearly gasped in surprise and was about to call for help.

Fortunately, Xie Zhiyan was quick to react. Before she could utter a sound, he covered her mouth.

But Sheng Puzhu moved even faster. The moment his hand touched her, she opened her mouth wide and bit down fiercely on his palm, using all her strength.

The chilly morning air, mixed with the scent of frost and snow, seeped through the man's broad palm, pressing against the tip of her nose.

"Madam, it's me." Xie Zhiyan's voice was low, carrying a hoarseness unlike his usual tone in the darkness.

Sheng Puzhu paused for a moment, then quickly released her bite.

But she had bitten down so hard that as her tongue brushed against her teeth, she could taste a faint tang of blood.

"Lord Xie..." Sheng Puzhu, aware she was in the wrong, looked up at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep. "What are you doing in the middle of the night, sir?"

Xie Zhiyan calmly moved his hand behind his back. The moment her soft lips had touched his palm, a rush of heat rushed through his blood, an uncontrolled fire stirring within him. The heat of youth revealed his raw desires.

His composure could not suppress the instincts his body revealed.

"Madam, I must attend morning court today." Xie Zhiyan lit the lamp again and stood backlit, his tall shadow falling over her, nearly enveloping her completely.

"Morning court?" Sheng Puzhu leaned out to glance at the water clock. Though the sky was still dark, it was almost the *mao* hour.

She finally realized belatedly that after his return home, almost all the clothes he usually wore had been sent to the Hall of Hidden Jade. Since he had to attend court, he would naturally need to change into his official robes.

"Husband, would you like me to help you dress?" Sheng Puzhu had never risen before dawn. As a properly raised young woman, she naturally had to keep up formalities by asking her husband if he required assistance, to demonstrate her virtue and decorum.

Before marriage, Xie Zhiyan had only been attended by his pageboys and attendants, and a few personal guards arranged by his father. Matters like dressing and bathing were things he never relied on others for.

Yet now...

Xie Zhiyan cast down his gaze, his cool, thin lips pursed slightly.

He looked toward Sheng Puzhu, his hand behind his back clenching gently. A fresh crescent-shaped bite mark on the web of his thumb was still oozing droplets of blood against his pale skin. Putting on clothes wasn't feasible at the moment.

In a deep voice, he said, "Then I'll trouble you, my lady."

This time, it was Sheng Puzhu’s turn to be stunned. She had only asked out of politeness and never expected him to agree.

The court attire was intricate—she had no idea how to put it on.

With some guilt, Sheng Puzhu rose from the bed. Xie Zhiyan had already gotten the clothes from the wardrobe.

Only when he stood under the lamp did she notice him unfastening his buttons with one hand, while a bright, stark bite mark on the web of his left hand was still bleeding!

Did she bite him earlier?

…She must have bitten too hard.

Sheng Puzhu felt an inexplicable tightness in her chest, her mind blank. She could only lower her head and walked quietly up to him.

Picking up the folded inner robe beside her, she said in a soft voice, "Husband, allow me to assist you."

Xie Zhiyan watched her slim figure approach and replied indifferently, "No matter. Just help me."

Sheng Puzhu nodded uneasily and whispered, "I’m sorry. I was startled earlier, which is why I bit you so hard."

Xie Zhiyan gave a soft hum and reached out to take the garment she offered. "It's just a small wound. It was my fault for startling you by not lighting the lamp."

"My lady, there’s no need to dwell on it."

Sheng Puzhu grew even more guilt-ridden, not daring to lift her head. She obediently moved behind him, rising on her toes to adjust his collar. The crimson official robe made her hands appear especially tender and pale. She couldn’t imagine how long she would secretly cry if such a deep wound were on her own hand.

The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she felt. When buckling his belt, he struggled with one hand, so she had to loosely encircle his waist with her arms, careful not to press too close. Her slender arms hovered slightly until the golden buckle clicked into place. Only then did she quietly sigh in relief and step back, her head still lowered.

"Husband, how does it look?"

Xie Zhiyan stood before her usual vanity mirror and glanced briefly. She had been very meticulous; there was nothing amiss.

As if remembering something, Sheng Puzhu turned and walked into the inner chamber, soon returning with a small pearwood medicine box. "Husband, you should dress the wound on your hand."

"Very well," Xie Zhiyan said, watching her.

Relieved that he agreed, Sheng Puzhu quickly opened the medicine box without further thought.

Inside were various bottles and jars, usually organized by Nanny Du and her assistants. Sheng Puzhu had no idea what was stored inside.

"The injury on your body, my lady," his voice paused, "has it healed?"

Sheng Puzhu abruptly looked up, meeting Xie Zhiyan’s deep gaze.

Then her eyes drifted downward, finally noticing the most prominent item in the box—a small celadon porcelain jar. And not just one; there were at least six or seven. She had no idea when Nanny Du had placed them there.

"It’s healed..." Sheng Puzhu opened her mouth, her heart thumping wildly, her voice so faint she could barely hear herself.

Xie Zhiyan remained silent, his deep eyes fixed on her. After a long moment, he asked, "Is that the truth?"

"Only slightly uncomfortable," Sheng Puzhu replied, meeting his penetrating gaze and losing the courage to lie.

"My hand can wait," Xie Zhiyan stood up and walked calmly toward the bathroom. Soon, the sound of water could be heard from within, suggesting he was washing his hands thoroughly, multiple times.

Sheng Puzhu had already guessed his intention. Even though he was always disciplined and restrained, still...

How could she let him assist her again, especially in such an intimate matter?

"Husband, no... there’s no need to trouble yourself. I can do it myself," Sheng Puzhu called out toward the bathroom.

Xie Zhiyan emerged, his sleeves rolled up, droplets of water clinging to his frost-pale wrists.

His tone remained calm. "Marital duties are natural."

"Since I injured you, tending to your injury is equally natural."

"But what about the wound on your hand?" Sheng Puzhu attempted to protest.

Xie Zhiyan had already approached her, his sharp eyes leaving no room for argument. "The injury is on my left hand. It does not hinder my right."

...

When Sheng Puzhu opened her eyes again, the sun was shining brightly outside.

Her eyelids still felt heavy, her body soft as silk soaked in water for too long. A lingering dampness remained between her legs. She lazily turned over and slowly opened her eyes.

"Has the young mistress awakened?" Nanny Du entered with a smile.

Sheng Puzhu pouted, "Nanny, I’m so tired."

Nanny Du gave her a suggestive look and said cheerfully, "The old madam knew you must have had a tiring night and had Nanny Jiang prepare a nourishing tonic soup early this morning. It can be warmed up and served now."

Sheng Puzhu realized that the commotion from the previous night must have been misunderstood by the servants. She rubbed her eyes in frustration. "I’m fine. I don’t need any tonic soup."

But Nanny Du smiled and said, "Before the young master left this morning, knowing the old madam rises early, he specifically went to her courtyard to pay his respects."

"The old madam explicitly instructed the young master, and the tonic soup for the young mistress was personally brought back by him."

"Before leaving, the young master mentioned that he would return to reside in the Jade Hall tonight."

At that moment,

Sheng Puzhu felt as if the sky were falling!

What should she do?

She was terrified that Xie Zhiyan would misunderstand. Once gossip spreads, it gets twisted.

After all, their marital relations were not frequent. If he were to misinterpret the tonic soup and the old madam’s instructions, would he think she was dissatisfied and complaining about the lack of intimacy?

The situation was utterly absurd.

If the misunderstanding grew, she would surely be mortified to death in bed. She had to clarify things.

Sheng Puzhu hurriedly turned over and got up. "Nanny, please help me change quickly. I need to pay my respects to the old madam."

Author's note: