“A fine cool autumn!”
Old man Zhao had occasionally heard Han Qian sigh this phrase and had never understood its beauty, but today he wished he could meet someone and exclaim it loudly with great feeling.
Whether Zhao Ting’er or Zhao Wuji, both had received considerable rewards over these two years. What old man Zhao had acquired in Qianyang City was a three-courtyard compound with east and west wings.
Today, old man Zhao had specifically changed into silk robes before going out. Walking toward Furong Garden, he even felt his feet were floating.
“Master Zhao, what good fortune has come your way? You’re even humming a tune as you walk?”
Tian Cheng emerged from the western hall of the prefectural office. He also had business at Furong Garden’s East Courtyard to speak with Han Qian. Seeing old man Zhao standing at Furong Garden’s gate with two young servants, his face full of spring joy, neither entering nor leaving, he asked with a smile and cupped hands.
“What good fortune do I have? I’m just happy in my heart seeing the young master return.” Old man Zhao thought he should be more composed and not let others look down on him. But then he thought that Tian Cheng was the Provincial Governor and Military Commander, Xuzhou’s second-in-command after the household head. No matter how courteous he’d been with him before, there was no need to use honorifics toward him.
Thinking that Tian Cheng probably knew about the young master’s marriage to Ting’er, old man Zhao’s face reddened and he became somewhat awkward.
Tian Cheng said, “Master Zhao, just remember to save a seat for me at the wedding banquet.” He laughed heartily. Seeing Han Laoshan emerge from inside, he bid farewell to old man Zhao and went first to the East Courtyard to discuss matters with Han Qian.
Han Daoxun was still at the front office handling official duties. Old man Zhao first followed Han Laoshan toward the study in the West Courtyard.
A maid brought tea. Old man Zhao habitually gathered his sleeves and stood in the study. Seeing Han Laoshan signal him to sit down, he couldn’t react for a moment and politely said, “Master Han, you sit. This old man isn’t tired.”
“Master Zhao is an honored guest today. From now on, Old Mountain won’t have the qualification to sit in Master Zhao’s presence.” Han Laoshan smiled.
“Hey, Master Han, what are you saying? You’re trying to embarrass this old man Zhao!” Old man Zhao pressed Han Laoshan into a chair to keep him company in conversation. He knew that with his daughter marrying into the Han household as a concubine, he still wasn’t truly the Han household’s in-law.
After waiting a while, Han Daoxun returned from the front office.
Han Daoxun maintained strict discipline and wielded great authority. Seeing Han Daoxun walk in with measured steps accompanied by Zhao Kuo and Fan Xicheng, old man Zhao inexplicably grew nervous. Following Han Laoshan, he stood and came forward to pay respects.
“Sit down and talk, don’t be constrained. You and I will be in-laws from now on.” Han Daoxun invited old man Zhao to sit and talk.
Han Daoxun was a man of deep emotion and principle. After marrying his wife, he had never taken a concubine, and even after his wife’s death, he hadn’t remarried.
Given his temperament and principles, he absolutely didn’t want to see Han Qian take a concubine before getting married. But the problem was that Han Qian had long passed the age for establishing a family and career, yet his marriage remained undecided, while Zhao Ting’er had been serving by Han Qian’s side for many years.
Han Daoxun even less wanted to see Zhao Ting’er conceive and bear children for his Han family without any status.
The Great Chu Code decreed by Emperor Tianyou had strict requirements for the marriages of officials and sons of noble families.
Having been Han Qian’s serving maid all these years, Zhao Ting’er could only be a concubine, not a wife.
Han Daoxun still seriously instructed Han Laoshan to carefully prepare the betrothal gifts and ceremony and select an auspicious date and time. But since Han Qian’s leave to remain in Qianyang couldn’t be too long, all formalities had to be simplified. The wedding day was set for six days later.
On the wedding day, Han Qian arranged several tables of private banquets within Furong Garden, inviting the family troops and retainers who had followed him and his father over these years, as well as Ji Xiyao, Ji Fu, Feng Yi, Kong Xirong, Tian Cheng, Zheng Tong, Yang Qin, Xi Chang, Feng Zhang, and others to drink.
People like Xue Ruogu and Li Tang who strictly observed propriety pretended not to have heard of this matter at all—there was no point expecting them to attend the banquet. Even those like Yang Zaili and Xiang Jianlong who were now eagerly currying favor with the Han father and son only sent generous gifts through their servants without appearing in person.
There was no talk of disturbing the bridal chamber either. After drinking, Feng Yi took Kong Xirong and pulled Guo Nu’er and other youths to bid farewell to Han Qian, saying, “We won’t delay your happy occasion. We’re going to the Zhao residence to ask Zhao Wuji for drinks!”
Han Qian walked toward the small courtyard. Du Jiuniang stood in the corridor with two serving maids. Red candles burned in the room, with Zhao Ting’er’s face covered by a veil, her graceful silhouette cast on the window lattice.
“Jiu’er congratulates and celebrates the young master!” The still-young sixteen-year-old Du Jiuniang curtsied as Han Qian entered, saying crisply.
Han Qian pushed open the door. With a creaking sound, he saw Zhao Ting’er tremble slightly.
To observe propriety, since returning to Qianyang City, Han Qian hadn’t let Zhao Ting’er attend him for six days.
Although in the past when passion stirred, Zhao Ting’er had half-reluctantly let him see her body, kiss her, thinking that today he could thoroughly and completely possess this perfect, flawless delicate body before him, thoroughly exploring and cherishing it—lifting the veil and seeing Zhao Ting’er’s face flushed with unbearable shyness in the candlelight, her eyes like rippling autumn waves, his heart and soul trembled lightly, recalling her rural innocence and pure beauty barely concealed when they first met at the manor.
These years of depending on each other, though their feelings weren’t intensely passionate, were deeply etched in bone and heart.
“What’s so interesting to look at, you fool?” Zhao Ting’er laughed softly.
These years, struggling to escape the entanglement of nightmares, Han Qian had deliberately suppressed his needs as a normal man, investing all his energy into tempering his body and various schemes and plans. Now it was like breaking a seal. He felt he could never look enough at the woman before him—long eyelashes trembling lightly, deep eyes full of shy affection, cherry lips ripe for plucking that made him want to suck on them fiercely. Her well-developed, prominent bosom and perfectly proportioned, enchanting figure all exuded alluring youthful vitality.
Of course, the woman before him also had her own cunning thoughts, her own efforts and persistence, sometimes with little schemes of her own. But this also made her more real.
“To marry me like this—I’ve truly wronged you.” Han Qian cupped Zhao Ting’er’s charming face and asked.
Two years ago, first his own reputation wasn’t good, and second his father’s remonstrance to expel refugees had damaged his reputation. After the betrothal to Wang Jun was broken off, no one mentioned forming marriage alliances with his family.
After the Jingxiang conflict, Han Qian hadn’t stayed long in Jinling, and with no elders by his side to arrange matches, this matter wasn’t mentioned. But after Tanzhou City fell, people constantly tested his intentions.
Although Han Qian didn’t want to use his marriage as a transaction, although he didn’t care at all about family status and nobility in his heart, the fact remained that he had no way to formally marry Zhao Ting’er as his wife.
“If husband asks this question, Ting’er doesn’t feel the least bit wronged.” Zhao Ting’er stared at Han Qian’s lean face that fascinated her, his deep eyes full of affection.
Although Han Qian had told her about the difficulties and dangers of childbirth for girls whose bodies hadn’t fully matured, she wholeheartedly wanted to become his true woman. Even these past two years being scolded by her father, she had secretly worried—worried that Han Qian had no feelings for her, worried about many, many things.
At this moment, all her worries transformed into tender affection. Even though her mother had instructed her before boarding the sedan chair that when truly becoming a woman she must endure the pain of physical tearing, she wasn’t worried at all, only looking forward to that moment’s arrival.
Seeing Han Qian about to kiss her, reeking of alcohol, Zhao Ting’er stood up coquettishly wanting to first blow out the candles, saying:
“You drank so much again—let’s put out the lights. Ting’er will attend husband’s rest!”
Han Qian grabbed her hand and said, “I haven’t thoroughly seen such a beautiful body of yours—how can I bear to blow out the candles?”
Han Qian was no novice. He naturally knew a woman was most beautiful when receiving rain and dew, her soul ascending to cloud peaks.
In the past when Zhao Ting’er nestled in his arms, even her neck would flush crimson. He had long wanted to see how alluring her snow-white body would be when completely flushed.
“You?” Zhao Ting’er bit her cherry-red lips. She hadn’t expected that on their wedding night, Han Qian would make such an unreasonable request. Refusing in every way, she struggled in Han Qian’s arms to blow out the candles, when suddenly a cat’s meow came from the roof, followed by the light tinkling of silver bells.
“Ah!” Zhao Ting’er hadn’t expected Xi Ren to be guarding nearby at this time. In Han Qian’s embrace, she forgot to struggle and looked up in surprise, asking, “What are you doing on the roof?”
“Someone always needs to stand guard in this courtyard. If you don’t want others eavesdropping at the wall, I can only work hard through the night—don’t worry, I’ve stuffed cotton in my ears. I can’t hear any sounds.” Xi Ren said lazily from the rooftop.
In Tanzhou City, more than once people had tried to spy on Han Qian’s residence, only to be startled away by guards. Security matters around Han Daoxun and after Han Qian came to Qianyang City could never be the slightest bit careless.
Who told father and son’s roles beside the Third Prince to become increasingly prominent?
Han Qian had deliberately wanted to let the great merit go to Marquis Xinchang Li Pu, but in the end, the Third Prince still insisted on designating father and son as the primary contributors.
“If she can’t hear anything, what use is she guarding outside?” Zhao Ting’er pouted coquettishly in complaint.
“If she wants to listen, let her listen.” Han Qian thought that with Xi Ren guarding on the roof, far from being affected, his desire only intensified. He reached out and embraced Zhao Ting’er.
Zhao Ting’er was already unbearably shy. Now knowing Xi Ren was guarding nearby, she was even more like a frightened little lamb. But no matter how she struggled, the dress on her body was almost forcibly stripped off by Han Qian.
Half-resisting, half-yielding, Zhao Ting’er was pushed down onto the bed. Arms around Han Qian’s neck, she couldn’t help asking softly, “Have you done that with her?”
“Why ask this now?” Han Qian asked curiously.
“Ting’er fears she’s not as beautiful as her, fears she’s not as good at attending husband, fears…” Zhao Ting’er bit her lip and said, “If Ting’er doesn’t do well enough, husband must teach me. Also, when will husband compose a poem for Ting’er?”
Han Qian hadn’t expected Zhao Ting’er to harbor competitive jealousy toward Xi Ren, and to have even discovered that poem he’d copied for Xi Ren. He thought he was truly wronged, yet also found the woman beneath him endearingly innocent. Seeing her muster her courage, he smiled and said, “Well then, first spread your legs…”