Huo Jue lingered in bed with Jiang Li for nearly half an hour longer than intended.
When Jiang Li finally rose from the bed, her face was flushed crimson. As a newlywed, sleeping in so late—past the height of the morning sun—would have drawn criticism even among common folk, let alone noble families. Though Huo Jue had no living parents, only an elder sister, propriety still demanded she pay her respects early.
Just as she reached to draw back the bed curtains, Huo Jue pulled her back into his arms, her back pressed firmly against his chest. She lowered her head, nudging his encircling arm, and murmured, "It's already late. We should go greet Sister Wei in the west courtyard."
Huo Jue rested his chin on her slender shoulder, inhaling the scent of her hair. "A-Jie said we shouldn’t visit before noon. She also told us not to fuss over formalities—to live as we please in this household."
Jiang Li fell silent, letting him hold her, feeling the faint brush of his nose against her earlobe as he breathed her in.
After a long, quiet moment, Huo Jue suddenly whispered, "A-Li, do you want to know about my past?"
Jiang Li paused, then shook her head.
Over the past few months, neither Huo Jue, Wei Huan, nor Nanny Tong had hidden much from her. Wei Huan had even spoken openly about her and Huo Jue’s childhood. Though Jiang Li was innocent, she was far from foolish.
From Wei Huan’s words, she could guess their family had once been illustrious. But why such a prominent family had vanished overnight, why siblings born of the same parents bore different surnames—one "Wei," one "Huo"—and why Wei Huan publicly went by "Madam Wei" instead, Jiang Li surmised it was a past too painful to revisit.
"If remembering hurts you, then don’t speak of it," Jiang Li said softly, turning her head to smile at him. "Knowing or not, I will always care for you—and for Sister Wei and Nanny Tong."
Huo Jue had lived through his vengeance in a past life. The massacre of the Huo and Wei clans no longer stirred his heart. But if Jiang Li didn’t wish to hear it, he wouldn’t bring it up.
After breakfast, Jiang Li styled her hair into a married woman’s chignon, adorned with the blue jade hairpiece Wei Huan had gifted her, and accompanied Huo Jue to the west courtyard.
Unable to attend the wedding in person, Wei Huan had risen early to prepare red envelopes for the newlyweds—a tradition from the Wei family, where elders inscribed blessings and tucked gold inside.
Once the envelopes were ready, Wei Huan retreated to the ancestral shrine in a converted side hall, guarded by Xue Wu’s trusted shadow guards.
Kneeling before the dark wooden memorial tablets, she lit three sticks of incense and smiled.
"Grandfather, Grandmother, Granduncle, Grandaunt, Father, Mother… A-Jue is married now, to a kind-hearted girl who once saved his life. Had you met her, you would have loved her."
She spoke at length before bowing deeply and planting the incense in the burner.
Meanwhile, Nanny Tong waited in the corridor with a lavender cloak. As Wei Huan emerged, she draped it over her shoulders. "The young master and A-Li have arrived. They’re waiting inside."
---
Jiang Li and Huo Jue had been seated properly for some time when Wei Huan finally returned.
Her complexion was brighter than usual today, even her typically pale lips tinged with color.
Settling into an armchair, she accepted their tea with a smile. "Why so early? I told you to come after noon."
Jiang Li knew Wei Huan was being considerate. "I couldn’t sleep, so I thought I’d visit sooner. It’s been two months since I last saw you and Nanny Tong."
Wei Huan lifted the teacup lid, amused. "Still calling me 'Sister Wei'?"
Blushing, Jiang Li corrected herself, echoing Huo Jue’s address: "A-Jie."
Wei Huan laughed, handing her the red envelope. "I won’t wish for early heirs—you’re still young. There’s time for children later. For now, I wish you and A-Jue a lifetime of harmony."
The envelope reminded Jiang Li of last night’s puzzle.
Twice, Huo Jue had withdrawn before completion.
New to marital intimacies, she had wondered if it was discomfort or inexperience. Now, Wei Huan’s words hinted at deliberate caution.
Back in their chambers, Jiang Li studied Huo Jue. "Last night… was it because you also think I’m too young for children?"
Huo Jue stilled, meeting her gaze. Her cheeks were pink—a rare boldness for someone so shy.
He led her to the heated daybed. "Partly. But also because I don’t want anyone between us. Not for years yet."
Jiang Li blinked. "Our child wouldn’t be 'anyone.'"
Rather than argue, Huo Jue said gently, "If we had a child, you’d divide your heart. I want all of it—every thought, every glance."
Jiang Li nearly laughed. The idea of the aloof, disciplined scholar—the pride of Zhu Fu Street—jealous of his own unborn child was absurd.
But his expression was deadly serious.
"Goodness," she teased, "I never knew you were so possessive!"
Huo Jue didn’t deny it. Had she not always adored children, he might have refused them altogether. The thought of sharing her affection was intolerable.
Suppressing the intensity in his eyes, he changed the subject. "Would you like to visit your mother and A-Ling this afternoon?"
Jiang Li hesitated. "But returning home on the first day breaks custom."
Tradition dictated newlyweds wait three days.
Huo Jue dismissed it. "It’s fine. We’ll visit again then."
As he left to arrange gifts, Jiang Li watched his retreating figure, smiling.
He loved her more than she’d ever imagined.
---
After a nap, they arrived at the tavern to find Huo Jue had also invited Zhang Yingying and Liu Yan.
Yesterday’s tearful bridesmaids were now brimming with curiosity.
No sooner had Jiang Li exchanged pleasantries with her mother than the girls dragged her to the kitchen for secrets.
Yingying elbowed her. "On behalf of Zhu Fu Street’s maidens—is Huo Jue as cold in private as he seems?"
Jiang Li’s face burned. "A-Yan! Scold her! She’s unwed!"
Liu Yan, the most proper of the three, averted her eyes. "I… may also be curious."
Jiang Li was speechless.
"Come on," Yingying wheedled. "Joy shared is joy doubled. We won’t tell."
Finally, in a whisper, Jiang Li admitted, "H-he’s not cold."
She refused further details, despite relentless pestering.
While the girls chattered, Huo Jue browsed Jiang Li’s old calligraphy practice in her childhood room.
Amidst stacks of diligent penmanship, one yellowed sheet caught his eye—two names, marked with circles and crosses.
Under Jiang Li’s name, nearly every mark was a cross, save one lonely circle. At the bottom, she had written:
"If Huo Jue stops loving me, I don’t think I could blame him."
Huo Jue exhaled. "Silly A-Li."
---
Author's Note:
Baby Huo: "I knew it. My greatest obstacle in this world would be my own father."
---
Cultural Nuances:
- Red envelopes (红封): Traditional gifts of money in celebratory contexts, symbolizing blessings.
- Three-day return (三朝回门): Custom where brides visit their natal home three days post-wedding.
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