The unusual sensation in her body woke Hua Zhi a little earlier than usual. The habits she had cultivated over these two years drew her thoughts back into focus within an instant.

The arm pillowing the back of her neck held her in an embrace — not too tight, not too loose. The warmth of that closeness was something one could not bear to leave. To wake in the arms of the one she loved — she had realized the dream of so many girls.

She snuggled closer and wrapped her arms around him. She heard his chest vibrate, then his low laugh. “You’re awake?”

“Mm.” Hua Zhi still did not open her eyes. After last night’s intimacy, even with two lifetimes behind her, she felt a little shy. “Have you been awake long?”

Gu Yanxi murmured in assent, but did not say that he had not slept a single moment through the night — that he had simply watched her the whole time. “Sleep a little longer. It’s still early.”

Hua Zhi snuggled against him again. While the Prince’s residence had no in-laws for her to serve tea, there was still the elderly grandmother — a presence weightier than in-laws. And by custom, the two of them were required to enter the palace today to pay their respects to the Emperor, who was her student — yet the Emperor’s station superseded all else.

Clearly, Gu Yanxi had thought of this as well. He shifted to sit up slightly and drew her upward, paying absolutely no mind to the arm that had gone nearly numb, the corners of his mouth lifting — no, every line of his entire face lifted upward, carrying with it the deep satisfaction of a long-held wish finally fulfilled.

“His Majesty has granted me five days of leave. Shall we go out somewhere?”

Five days for a wedding holiday — how stingy, Hua Zhi grumbled to herself under her breath. “Is there somewhere you would like to go?”

Gu Yanxi stroked her hair. “How would it be to spend a day or two at Dazhuosi?”

The mention of Dazhuosi made Hua Zhi think of Master Boruo, and then of the string of wrist beads that had snapped during her severe illness. It was time to go. Whether there was truly a Buddha’s protection or it had simply been a coincidence, the fact remained that she had survived.

“Bring Xiaohan along. I got married and he’s been unsettled ever since — this place is still unfamiliar to him. I’m afraid he won’t be at ease in his heart.”

Gu Yanxi let out a low laugh. He was not remotely surprised — not even on the very first day of their marriage was there anything to stop Ah Zhi from worrying about others.

Hua Zhi raised her head, and at last opened her eyes. Looking at this smiling face so close to hers, she suddenly realized that mentioning anyone at this moment was rather a dampener on the mood — any addition to the world of two people was superfluous, even if that addition was a child.

“I was already planning to bring him.” Covering her eyes, which were too bright and clear, Gu Yanxi smiled and said: “These two years, though he has improved greatly under your guidance, an upbringing like his so early in life has surely taken root somewhere deep within. Spending a few days at Dazhuosi will do him good.”

“Yanxi, I…”

“Foolish.” Gu Yanxi smiled all the more warmly, leaning down over her until their foreheads touched. “You don’t need to change anything for my sake, and you don’t need to feel guilty toward me for thinking too much of others. If there ever came a day when you stopped caring about those people, that is when I would truly be worried — because that person would surely no longer be my Ah Zhi.”

Hua Zhi felt her nose sting, but her lips curved upward. To have earned a man who understood her, cherished her, and affirmed her so completely — it must be the heavens’ reward for her two years of hard toil.

“From now on, I will think of you the most.”

Gu Yanxi pressed a kiss to her lips, and the single sound of assent he gave was full of deep and winding feeling. He knew this, of course — and it was precisely because he knew it that he looked forward to their future together with such anticipation.

A future shared with Ah Zhi — he could hardly wait.

The two of them lingered and nestled together in bed, pressing close and nuzzling like a pair of kissing fish, and this quiet tenderness felt even more satisfying to them both than the passion of the night before.

Outside, sounds gradually stirred. The maids, who ordinarily walked without a sound, today deliberately let their footsteps fall heavier than usual. Hua Zhi buried herself in the covers and laughed — every one of those maids’ nerves was audible right through their footfalls.

But they truly did need to rise. There was still a visit to the Grand Empress Dowager to make!

She sat up with the coverlet gathered around her, her bare shoulders exposed, smoothed her hair a little, and gave a soft cough. “Let’s get up.”

“As you command, Madam.”

At those words, Hua Zhi instinctively turned her head. Their gazes met, and like two complete fools, they burst out laughing at exactly the same moment.

The maids filed in one after another. Seeing that their young miss had a healthy complexion and a smile on her face, they finally let the hearts they had been holding through the whole night settle back into place — and their steps grew light, their movements all the more nimble and brisk.

Having her hair dressed for the first time in a married woman’s style, Hua Zhi touched it as she looked in the mirror, gazing at her own reflection in a momentary daze. She was married now. People were, perhaps, inherently inclined to ease — and now that she had taken a husband’s family name, the burdens that had pressed down upon her seemed to have vanished overnight.

She recognized so clearly that she was no longer the eldest miss of the Hua Family, with no further need to uphold the reputation and prestige of the sprawling Hua household, no need to scheme and plan so that every move was without flaw. Because from this day forward, there would be a strong man at her side to hold up a sky for her — and beneath that sky, she could live without worry. This realization came from somewhere deep in her bones, reaching her entire body faster than any conscious thought, and even the sense of reliance that surged forth felt entirely right and natural.

This was her love.

Hua Zhi smiled at her reflection. Her love might not have been passionate and fierce, might not have shaken the world, and was perhaps even overly rational — yet she held nothing back.

Another figure appeared in the mirror. Hua Zhi leaned back, and their gazes intertwined in the bronze mirror. The maids looked upon these two and felt their cheeks grow inexplicably warm, one by one lowering their heads.

Nanny Su walked in, gave a light cough, and reminded them gently, “My Lady, it is getting late.”

The unfamiliar form of address gave Hua Zhi a moment of quiet surprise. Yes — from today onward, her identity was different.

To take a husband’s name, to become another’s wife… Hua Zhi bowed her head and smiled softly. She stood and looked at the impeccably dressed man before her. “We should go pay our respects to Grandmother.”

Gu Yanxi’s smile was warm and full. He gave a soft murmur of assent, and with a light arm around her shoulders, guided her out.

Over these two years of moving through the world, Hua Zhi had seen the deep, secluded courtyards of many households — but none could compare to what had once been the Heir Apparent’s residence and was now the Regent Prince’s estate. Pavilions and towers rose among green, shading trees, and long covered walkways connected all corners of the grounds, winding and turning, each courtyard offering its own distinct vista.

“The estate is large. You may use the palanquin when coming and going — do not leave it idle.”

Hua Zhi glanced at him with the faintest of smiles. She considered herself well-adapted to this era and not one to forgo any comfort that was rightfully hers — what was he saying to make her sound as though she felt reluctant to use servants? If that were truly the case, how would she have so many people waiting on her?

Gu Yanxi smiled too. “How many times have you actually ridden in the Hua Family’s palanquin?”

“The two situations are entirely different.”

Gu Yanxi did not argue with her. Had he not known she disliked riding in a carried palanquin, he would never have arranged a wheel-borne palanquin for her instead. Ah Zhi had always been willing to make herself appear just like everyone else — yet at the core of her being, how could she ever truly be like everyone else?

“The household staff has gaps. You brought a large dowry retinue — arrange them as you see fit, without any reservations.”

“In my own home, I will naturally have no reservations whatsoever.” Hua Zhi made no mention of knowing that, before the wedding, a great many members of the Prince’s household staff had been sent away to other positions. Yanxi wanted her to feel at ease — and so of course she would be at ease. Even more at ease than she had ever been in the Hua Family home.

PS: Every reader who has waited this long for the extra chapters is a true devotee.