Nothing more than an ordinary wine stain soaking through their clothes — it became the pretext for loosening robes and undoing sashes. Back and forth they went, and this time, it ended in a draw.

“Third time’s the charm,” said Pei Shaohuai. This time, he finally managed to bring the nuptial wine cups over without mishap.

The young couple drank from the cups, their breath growing warmer with each sip. They gazed at each other in silence, eyes entwined in wordless tenderness.

Clunk, clunk — the two wooden wine cups bound together by a red cord were tossed to the floor, landing perfectly: one face-up, one face-down.

The wine burned warm in their chests; the autumn chill was powerless against it.

“What did my husband mean, ‘third time’s the charm’?”

Behind the screen in the side chamber, wisps of steam drifted and curled. Pei Shaohuai lifted the phoenix crown from his wife’s head and said, “I lost to you twice — third time’s the charm. It was my turn to win.”

In the next instant, Pei Shaohuai bent slightly and gathered Yang Shiyue into his arms, carrying her steadily toward the screen — not a trace of the stumbling uncertainty from earlier. Beneath the crimson wide sleeves, his hands were pale and clean, veins faintly raised, strength that needed no borrowed wind.

The screen caught the candlelight; flower shadows danced delicately, mountain shapes stirred, a small pool lay wreathed in misty, hidden fragrance.

Within the warm crimson bed-curtains, unfamiliarity gradually gave way to harmony — like a boat finding harbor in the night, waves ebbing into a deep port. “One pluck of flowing water, one pluck of the moon; half carried into the river wind, half into the clouds.”

……

The next morning, when the sky had barely begun to lighten, the young couple had slept barely an hour or two — yet both woke at their usual time.

The night before, they had lain in each other’s arms, whispering softly into each other’s ears, speaking of this and that, on and on without end, until their murmuring voices faded unknowingly into sleep.

In just one night, much of the restraint between them had dissolved.

The clothes for the day had been prepared and laid out in a wicker chest. Pei Shaohuai deftly took them out and dressed himself. Seeing this, Yang Shiyue hurried over to help her husband straighten his inner white garments.

Yang Shiyue was tall and slender, but she stood a full head shorter than Pei Shaohuai. When she helped him into his outer robe, she rose onto her tiptoes just enough to reach — and the thought of those shoulder-broad mountain-like silhouettes from the night before brought an unbidden flush of bridal shyness to her cheeks.

“Does my husband always dress himself like this?” Yang Shiyue asked.

Pei Shaohuai nodded. “I don’t like others getting close.”

“And what about me?”

Pei Shaohuai smiled. “How could my wife be counted as ‘others’?” As he spoke, he casually reached into the chest and pulled out a jade pendant to fasten to his sash.

“Husband, wait.” Yang Shiyue took the jade pendant from his hand and carefully looked through the chest, at last selecting one with an auspicious meaning. She fastened it to his sash herself and said, “Today is the first day. We’ll be paying our respects to the elders shortly — this one is better.”

After tidying up simply, the two of them opened the door and instructed the servants to bring hot water for washing.

Yang Shiyue’s grooming took a little longer; Pei Shaohuai found a scroll to read, just as he did every morning. The autumn dawn was cool with a light frost — one reading, one dressing.

Yang Shiyue had not brought many attendants with her from her family home. For personal care, she had only two middle-aged nannies. As one of them combed Yang Shiyue’s hair, she stole glances at the young master reading across the room, smiling warmly as she whispered, “The Earl’s household truly has fine family ways. I’ve heard that even the little maidservants are never permitted into the two young masters’ courtyards.”

Not the sort of household that is all show and no substance.

Though they had already inquired into all of this beforehand, seeing it with her own eyes still made the nanny glad on her mistress’s behalf.

At daybreak, husband and wife went together to the main hall to serve tea to the elders and share the morning meal. Beyond the formal tea ceremony, everything else was as ordinary as any other day. Lin Shi had Yang Shiyue serve a few dishes of food to the old grandmother — a token gesture — and then invited her to sit beside her and eat properly.

Afterward, the old grandmother and Lin Shi presented Yang Shiyue with an abundance of jewelry, pearls, and silks of every color — Shu brocades, Hangzhou satins, and more.

The old grandmother said, “Now that you are husband and wife sharing a life together, you must understand and support one another. Shaohuai has just entered officialdom and embarked on his career — and he holds two posts at that. You must manage affairs at home well, so that he need not burden his mind with worries here. Let him tend to his own work.”

“Grandmother’s guidance is most wise. Your granddaughter-in-law understands,” Yang Shiyue replied.

In Zhaolu Courtyard, Lin Shi held Yang Shiyue’s hand, looking at her with more fondness the longer she looked. She said, “Huai speaks little but does much — what he does, he does earnestly. Spend time with him and you’ll come to understand his nature. He is a man who knows warmth and cold.” Then she added, “He keeps in his heart everything you do for him. That quilt cover you sent before the metropolitan examination — he still keeps it carefully in his chest. Go look for it in his study sometime; you’ll certainly find it.”

Hearing these words, Yang Shiyue felt a quiet stirring in her heart. She had first glimpsed Pei Shaohuai’s profile, then been won over by his talents, and through their time together had come to know his character piece by piece — and felt herself fortunate.

Listening to her mother-in-law speak, she thought to herself: no wonder her own mother had said the mistress of the Earl’s household was a woman of remarkable insight.

When the conversation turned to the return-visit to her family home three days hence, Lin Shi said she would take Yang Shiyue to the storerooms to choose gifts properly.

The Pei family did not have many elders, but meeting with each of them individually and exchanging words with each took considerable time. By the time they had gone through everyone, it was already the noon meal. After the family ate together, the young couple finally returned to their own courtyard.

They had slept little the night before, and the traces of wine had not entirely faded; drowsiness came for them at last.

“My dear wife, shall we…” Pei Shaohuai was about to suggest a proper nap.

Before he could finish, he heard: “Husband, take off your outer robe first.”

Before his imagination could wander, he saw that Yang Shiyue had fetched her sewing basket. Thread in hand, she was preparing to take his measurements. Seeing her husband standing there in a daze, Yang Shiyue said, “I can’t get an accurate measurement with the outer robe on. Husband, please take it off.”

He then noticed a half-finished blue satin robe tucked beneath the sewing basket — many of the embroidered patterns already completed, needing only to be cut and adjusted for length and fit, then carefully sewn together. It was easy to guess: Yang Shiyue had begun making this garment before they were even wed.

Both the fabric and the style, as well as the embroidered motifs, showed that care had been taken.

“Why did my wife rush to start making clothes already?” Pei Shaohuai asked. After all, this was only the first day of their marriage.

“The return visit to my family is in a couple of days,” Yang Shiyue said.

Needlework held a special meaning for a woman — every stitch, every thread was an expression of feeling. From the return visit onward, Pei Shaohuai would wear the first set of clothes his wife had ever made for him.

Pei Shaohuai removed his outer robe and stood before Yang Shiyue in his thin white undergarment, patient and still, letting her fingertips guide the measuring cord — sliding over his shoulders, sliding past his waist. He tried to reason with her gently: “You slept late last night. You must be tired too, my wife. Why not rest for a bit first? There’s no harm in sewing after a nap.”

Yang Shiyue shook her head. As she marked the cord, she replied, “Once I finish tomorrow, you’ll need to try it on. There may still be adjustments to make.”

And so she began to cut and sew.

The fine needle moved up and down, the stitches firm and close.

Pei Shaohuai retrieved the half-read scroll from the morning and sat down on the other side of the low table on the couch, the occasional sound of turning pages drifting through the air.

“Didn’t my husband say he was sleepy?”

“If my wife doesn’t sleep, how could I sleep alone?”

The needle in her hand paused. Yang Shiyue said, “As it happens, I’m drowsy too.”

The two of them lay down to rest, and slept soundly until the shen hour before rising.

……

……

When the day of the return visit arrived, Pei Shaohuai changed into the blue satin round-collared robe Yang Shiyue had made for him. It fit perfectly.

Before the vanity mirror, Yang Shiyue had already arranged her hair. Her nanny took two small boxes from the chest, opened them, and set them on the dressing table. “Young Mistress, see which pieces you’d like to wear today.”

They were all ornaments she had long been fond of, and each suited her hairstyle beautifully.

Yang Shiyue began to choose — then picked up a pearl hairpin, and put it back. “Bring out the jewelry the old grandmother and mother-in-law gave me,” she said. “I’ll choose from those.”

“It was this servant’s oversight.” The nanny apologized repeatedly. “I’ll go fetch them right away.”

Meanwhile, Lin Shi and Shaohuai had already prepared the return-visit gifts. A double-hitched carriage was waiting outside the main gate.

The young couple returned to the Yang family home together.

In the main hall, Pei Shaohuai sat with his father-in-law over tea, while Yang Shiyue was taken away by Lady Yang into the inner courtyard — no doubt for some private words between mother and daughter.

“These past few months at the Hanlin Academy — have you settled in well?” Lord Yang asked.

“Very well,” Pei Shaohuai replied. He described in detail his duties at the Hanlin Academy, but made no mention of the tiresome infighting led by the Hexi faction within the institution.

But Pei Shaohuai’s silence on that matter did not mean his father-in-law couldn’t work it out for himself. When Lord Yang heard that Pei Shaohuai was already participating in the compilation of the Veritable Records and had already entered the palace to serve as duty recorder, he nodded, a glimmer of approval in his eyes. “Very good. You haven’t been in the Academy half a year, and yet you’ve made such progress. That is no small thing.”

He, too, had walked this path through the Hanlin Academy once before.

Lord Yang then asked, “When does my son-in-law plan to enter the Six Bureaus to begin observation duty?” Pei Shaohuai still held the concurrent post of Supervising Secretary of the Bureau of Works. When the time came to report for that duty, it would likely be no different from his early days in the Hanlin Academy — another round of scheming and undercurrents.

Pei Shaohuai had already thought this through. “The Veritable Records will be complete by year’s end. I plan to enter the Six Bureaus at that time.” Knowing that his father-in-law had specifically asked this, there must be guidance behind it. Pei Shaohuai added, “I ask for your instruction, Father-in-law.”

A Supervising Secretary’s role was to submit memorials based on what he observed and heard, remonstrating the throne directly on matters of personnel and state affairs. To master such a position and make full use of it would be far more demanding than serving as a Hanlin compiler.

Though both involved writing, the compiler’s brush set down history and records, while the Supervising Secretary’s brush wrote remonstrations — memorials placed directly before the Emperor’s eyes.

Lord Yang served at the Court of Judicial Review, itself a link in the chain of oversight. Having served at court for many years, he naturally had his own well-formed views. “Many words are not valued,” he said. “For one who holds the position of Supervising Secretary, this is especially true.”

Just four brief words — yet Pei Shaohuai quickly grasped the depth of meaning within them.

He listened as Lord Yang continued: “The remonstrations of a Supervising Secretary must be prized for their truth and precision, ideally striking at the very root of a matter, so that the Emperor reads them and finds them worthy of consideration. If one becomes like those who make no real progress — following factions, submitting whatever memorial advances a faction’s interests — then one has lost sight of what matters. And if one merely drifts with the current, following others in submitting memorials simply because they do, then one has become nothing more than someone adding to another’s tally.” He paused, then continued: “My son-in-law must always remember: to have a brush in court that can speak with authority is exceedingly rare. Do not let the brush in your hand write another man’s words.”

After a brief pause, he added, “After you enter office, people will seek to ingratiate themselves with you at every turn. Son-in-law, remember: you are nothing more than a junior official who has just entered the court. There is no shortage of capable and extraordinary men in this government. However great your talents, you are still young — what reason would they have to court your favor? Only one: they want the brush you hold. The moment the memorials you submit lose their worth, you will no longer be able to hold that brush — and all the flattery will vanish like smoke.”

In his father-in-law’s words, one could see both the upright traditions of the Yang family and the genuine care he bore for his son-in-law.

Lord Yang had helped Pei Shaohuai identify the crux of the Supervising Secretary’s position — though it was a minor post, it wielded considerable power — and that power was a trust granted by the Emperor himself.

“Your son-in-law will take your teachings to heart,” Pei Shaohuai replied. “I will remonstrate with care, and write only what is true.”

“Your first remonstration will be the most important of all. After you enter office at year’s end, observe and take in much before you speak. We can discuss the specifics then.” The first memorial was like a first impression — it set everything that followed.

“Your son-in-law understands.”

The two men spoke at length, and when the time came to prepare for the midday banquet, Lord Yang said quietly, “You must treat Shiyue well.” Simple words, yet carrying the full weight of a father’s authority.

Pei Shaohuai straightened himself and replied with sincerity, “Your son-in-law will treat her with a true heart.”