The cool early autumn breeze brushed against the window as a withered yellow leaf spiraled down from the phoenix tree in the courtyard, landing beside a pair of pink embroidered shoes.
Tao Zhu and Tao Bi stood quietly by the moon gate of the eastern courtyard, a fair distance from the main chamber, where no sound could be heard. Tao Bi twisted the handkerchief in her hands, her gaze drifting yet again toward the closed doors.
“It’s been two hours since Young Master Huo went in. How is he not out yet? He drank all day and barely ate anything—he must be starving by now.”
Tao Zhu shot her a sidelong glance, her tone sharp. “Madam sent us here to serve the young mistress. Why are you so concerned about Young Master Huo? Whether he’s eaten or not is none of your business.”
The two had originally been maidservants in the Duke’s residence before being assigned to Wushuang Courtyard to serve Madam Wei. After moving to Ruyi Garden, they were transferred to the eastern courtyard to attend to Huo Jue. Now that Jiang Li had entered the household, they had been reassigned to serve her under Nanny Tong’s orders.
Back then, the Duke had made it clear—once they entered Wushuang Courtyard, their sole mistress was Madam Wei, and they were to obey only her. Now that Madam Wei had instructed them to serve the young mistress, she was their sole priority. Everyone else came second.
Tao Bi flushed at Tao Zhu’s bluntness and glared. “We served Young Master Huo for some time—is it so wrong to care for an old master? Must you always speak with hidden daggers? You’re insufferable!”
Tao Zhu smirked coldly. “Don’t take me for a fool. I know exactly what’s on your mind. Remember your place—a servant should know her limits. Don’t let ambition blind you. Our families’ contracts are in Madam Wei’s hands. If you drag me down with you, I’ll tear your mouth apart myself.”
Tao Bi’s face paled, then reddened. She opened her mouth to retort when the doors of the main chamber suddenly swung open.
Both maids stiffened, their eyes darting upward to see Huo Jue standing there, clad in red robes, his hair loose and his expression cold.
“Prepare the bath.”
---
Inside the bridal chamber, the flickering glow of the dragon-and-phoenix candles cast a hazy light.
As the door opened, the night breeze slipped in, lifting a corner of the bed curtains to reveal a slender, snow-white arm resting on the mattress.
Jewelry lay scattered across the floor—red agate, warm white jade, golden hairpins, and the dazzling phoenix crown. The evidence of what had transpired in this room was unmistakable.
Tao Bi and Tao Zhu carried in the bathwater, their eyes respectfully lowered as they set down the tub. Normally, if the master did not explicitly request their assistance, they were to bow and withdraw.
But Tao Bi, emboldened, lifted her gaze. “Young Master, Young Mistress, would you like this servant to—”
Before she could finish, Huo Jue cut her off without so much as a glance. “Out.”
Reluctantly, Tao Bi bowed and retreated with Tao Zhu. As she closed the door, she stole one last glance inside—only to see the usually aloof young master part the bed curtains, his jade-like profile softening with a tenderness she had never witnessed before.
Her heart fluttered wildly.
Though a servant, she was no common maid—she had been raised in the Duke’s household, her status no less than the young mistress’s. So why was she the one carried in a grand procession as Huo Jue’s wife, while Tao Bi couldn’t even dream of becoming his concubine?
---
The door clicked shut.
The red silk bed curtains enclosed an intimate warmth, the air thick with lingering traces of passion.
Jiang Li lay beneath the covers, her fair skin flushed and marked. When the maids had entered earlier, she had frozen like a quail, too embarrassed to move or make a sound. If not for the sticky discomfort clinging to her body, she would have postponed bathing until morning.
Sensing the curtains being drawn aside, she lifted her lashes to find Huo Jue gazing down at her.
Seeing her finally meet his eyes, he smiled faintly.
His bride’s eyes were rimmed red, her nose and lips slightly swollen—clear signs of having been thoroughly loved.
And Huo Jue knew he had been rough.
At first, he had held back, wanting to be gentle, but control had slipped away—for both of them.
Leaning down, he gathered her into his arms. “Let me carry you.”
Jiang Li wanted to insist she could manage, but her limbs felt like melted wax. Resigned, she buried her face against his chest as he carried her to the bathing chamber.
The warm water soothed her instantly, and she sighed in relief as she sank in.
Huo Jue took up a cloth, his movements practiced and gentle as he washed her.
Jiang Li blinked in surprise. He didn’t seem the least bit unfamiliar with this—as if he had done it countless times before.
She opened her mouth to ask, but the intensity in his darkened gaze and the faint redness at the corners of his eyes made her promptly shut it again.
All she wanted now was to return to bed and sleep for an eternity.
Once dried and dressed in fresh undergarments, Huo Jue asked, “Are you hungry? Should I call for food?”
Jiang Li was hungry, but even the thought of lifting chopsticks exhausted her. She shook her head. “No need.”
Nodding, he carried her back to bed before retreating to the bath for his own wash.
Jiang Li closed her eyes, drifting until a strong arm pulled her close. Calloused fingers tangled in her hair, stroking the silken strands with quiet reverence.
Huo Jue seemed to adore her hair—its inky darkness, smooth as satin.
Half-asleep, she made a mental note to brew Polygonum multiflorum wine tomorrow. It was good for keeping hair dark and lustrous.
“A Li.”
His voice, soft yet weighted, roused her slightly. Expecting him to say more, she forced her eyes open, but he remained silent. With a quiet sigh, she nestled deeper into his embrace and slept.
Huo Jue watched her peaceful face for a long moment before closing his own eyes.
But his dreams were restless.
He found himself back in that grim mansion outside the palace, its main hall converted into an icehouse. At its center lay a crystal coffin.
Clad in a heavy black cloak, a dark horsetail whisk draped over his arm, he stood before the coffin, staring at the girl who had slept there for far too long.
“A Li,” he murmured. “Wake up.”
But she did not stir.
The scene shifted.
This time, he was the one lying feverish and unconscious. Yet somehow, a sweet, stubborn voice pierced through the haze, tugging him relentlessly from the darkness—chirping like the magpie that used to perch outside his study, chattering ceaselessly.
He hadn’t wanted to wake up. But that voice refused to let him go.
“What’s your name? How did you get so hurt?”
“Don’t worry—even if your face is ruined, I’ll have A Ling teach you to read. Once you’re literate, finding a wife won’t be hard. The girls in Tong’an care more about talent than looks.”
“Oh! Your wounds look much better now!”
“...Actually, you’re quite handsome! I think you’ll find a wife even if you stay illiterate.”
The magpie had prattled on without pause.
Even in his coma, her words had seeped into his consciousness.
The day he finally woke, his gaze had instinctively sought the chair beside the bed—where a little girl with twin buns sat.
Spotting his open eyes, she had blinked before declaring imperiously, “Hey! I’m Su Yao. I saved your life, so you owe me. From now on, you’re my child groom!”
Huo Jue had frowned.
That wasn’t the magpie’s voice.
Just as he dismissed it as a hallucination, the familiar tones floated in again—from the tavern next door.
By then, he could walk. Drawn by that voice, he pushed open the wooden gate to the courtyard—
And saw a jade-carved girl hugging a giant watermelon, her back to him as she called out, “A Ling, open the door! This melon’s too heavy—I can’t hold it much longer!”
Hearing his footsteps, she turned—and the watermelon slipped from her arms, splitting open on the ground.
The door across the yard swung open just then, and the girl hastily gathered her stained skirts and darted inside.
Huo Jue had stared after her until the door closed, her wide, dewy eyes lingering in his mind.
Not just a magpie, he had mused. A skittish little deer, too.
---
Jiang Li stirred in Huo Jue’s tight embrace. Though the night was cool, she felt flushed, her skin damp with sweat. Somewhere in the darkness, she thought she heard him murmur her name again—hoarse, half-lost in dreams.
With a sleepy hum, she nuzzled closer and whispered, “Mm.”
When she next opened her eyes, the sun was high.
For a dazed moment, she forgot where she was—then jolted upright at the realization. I’m a bride now!
Except she couldn’t move.
Huo Jue had her locked against him, his breath warm against her ear, his lips brushing her lobe.
Memories of the previous night flooded back, and her face burned. Carefully, she tried to pry his arm from her waist—
Only for a sigh to rumble above her, followed by his low, strained voice.
“A Li. Don’t move. Let me... calm down.”
No comments:
Post a Comment