At Ming’an Hall, after sharing a sumptuous lunch of eight dishes and two soups, Zhao Sui was about to return to Bamboo Garden. Before leaving, he informed Yao Huang he would come over again in the evening.

Yao Huang rose: “I’ll see Your Highness off.”

Zhao Sui: “No need for excessive courtesy.”

The words were quite polite, but the expression was indisputably cold.

Yao Huang understood this emotion. Sometimes when she visited others’ homes, elders wanted to give her certain foods. If Yao Huang didn’t want to eat them but the elders thought she was being shy and insisted on giving them to her, Yao Huang would thank them outwardly while feeling extremely annoyed inwardly. If she were a princess, she could simply say with indifference “Don’t want it, don’t force it” to dismiss the matter.

Since His Highness didn’t want her to see him off, Yao Huang could only stop at the hall entrance, watching as Qing Ai pushed the wheelchair away.

Once master and servant’s figures completely disappeared, Yao Huang relaxed, and the five people including A’Ji in the courtyard also became much more at ease.

Yao Huang returned to the table. Of the eight meat and vegetable dishes, Prince Hui had only touched the two before him. Yao Huang had tasted all the other six dishes, but even with her appetite, she’d only eaten about a plate and a half in total. Of the two soups, she’d drunk one bowl while Prince Hui had only tasted half a bowl.

Yao Huang asked Hua Mei: “What does Consort Du usually do with dishes she can’t finish?”

The Yao family had few members—at most they’d leave a tiny bit each meal, rarely wasting anything.

Hua Mei silently scoffed inwardly while maintaining a respectful appearance: “The consort rewards palace servants with them.”

The vegetables and meat sent to Yikun Palace were all the freshest. How much could the consort eat alone? Many dishes would basically be carried away untouched, heated in a pot, and become delicacies on the palace maids and eunuchs’ tables.

Yao Huang looked toward Bai Ling. Seeing Bai Ling nod to confirm Hua Mei’s words were true, Yao Huang said: “Fine, take these down for yourselves to eat. While you’re at it, have the head chef from the kitchen come see me.”

A’Ji: “I’m not hungry. I’ll stay here to attend the Princess Consort.”

Yao Huang waved her hand: “Go eat first. Come back after you’re full. I’m resting now—don’t need you all.”

There were still second-class maids arranged by the manor in the courtyard. Yao Huang would use this chance to get familiar with them.

Soon, the kitchen’s head chefs arrived—surprisingly, there were two.

The head chef Prince Hui was accustomed to was Chef Kong, who normally worked in Bamboo Garden’s small kitchen. With His Highness changing to eat at Ming’an Hall these three days, Chef Kong had followed back. Gao Niangzi was specifically selected by the manor to serve the princess consort and would remain permanently at Ming’an Hall.

Yao Huang asked Chef Kong: “Are there requirements for how many dishes His Highness has for each of three daily meals?”

Chef Kong: “Yes. Without special instructions, His Highness eats two main foods and two small dishes for breakfast, four dishes and one soup for lunch, two dishes and one soup for dinner.”

Yao Huang: “How is His Highness’s appetite?”

Chef Kong sighed: “This past year His Highness’s appetite has been poor. If he eats thirty percent of the food brought to the table, that’s already a lot.”

Yao Huang had her answer and instructed both: “His Highness dislikes extravagance, and I don’t have such a large appetite either. Continue following His Highness’s habits from now on. Change breakfast to four small dishes, dinner to three dishes and one soup. If I want to eat specific dishes, I’ll tell you in advance.”

The two head chefs nodded. Gao Niangzi took the opportunity to ask about the princess consort’s dish preferences.

Having resolved this matter, Yao Huang went to rest on the daybed in the side room. With strong sunlight outside the window, now wasn’t a good time for touring the garden.

After the five senior maids returned, Yao Huang had Hua Mei and Bai Ling keep watch while A’Ji and the other two went to rest their afternoon nap in the rear building.

Hua Mei was still bold enough to speak. Seeing Yao Huang’s eyelids growing heavier, she probed: “Princess Consort, why didn’t His Highness accompany you for the afternoon rest?”

Yao Huang glanced at her: “His Highness personally said he prefers quiet. From now on, His Highness will have even more time alone. You all should get used to it early and stop prying needlessly.”

Bai Ling nodded repeatedly.

Yao Huang turned over, her back to them both: “Go keep watch outside. Wake me in half an hour.”

Hua Mei: “…”

Bai Ling pulled her outside.

After waking, Yao Huang washed up again, then took all five senior maids in a grand procession to the rear garden to familiarize them with the paths.

This time, Yao Huang started touring from the west side. Whether garden paths or stone-paved walkways leading to pavilions and towers, wherever there was a path, Yao Huang wanted to explore.

This was her second visit. For A’Ji, coming for the first time, it was like arriving in a dreamland from fairy tales. Wherever the princess consort ran, she followed, making Hua Mei alternately scoff and mock inwardly until finally becoming numb to it. When Yao Huang led A’Ji in one breath up Cuiping Mountain, the low hill on the north side, Hua Mei was left only gasping for breath with aching waist and weak legs.

Standing in the pavilion atop the mountain, Yao Huang removed her shoes and stood on a beauty couch, supporting herself against the bright red lacquered pavilion pillar while looking south over the entire garden. She exclaimed in delight: “This place is wonderful—can see everywhere.”

A’Ji’s mouth hung open, too shocked for words.

Even Hua Mei, accustomed to the Imperial Garden, was astonished. Everyone said Prince Hui’s Manor’s garden was larger than Prince Kang’s Manor because Emperor Yongchang was biased, but Emperor Yongchang’s own Imperial Garden appeared only half this size!

Cuiping Mountain spanned almost the entire northern side of the garden. Various places on the mountain also featured common mountain scenery like rock walls, flying waterfalls, springs, and secluded pools.

Yao Huang followed the scenery, going up and down the mountain, walking from west to east—touring for over half a shichen.

Descending the mountain, Yao Huang retraced part of her path and turned to tour the garden’s central area.

When the red sun inclined westward, Yao Huang finally circled back to Cuiping Mountain’s base, following the eastern stone-paved path southward.

First she passed that abandoned vegetable plot.

Yao Huang toured a circle through the vegetable plot, getting both shoe soles covered in yellow earth, and emerged satisfied.

Further south was the bamboo grove.

Though Yao Huang was very curious what Prince Hui did alone inside, she didn’t crane her neck to peer in and quickly left the bamboo grove behind.

On Bamboo Garden’s side were three main rooms, one kitchen, one medical hall, and one servants’ room. The front and rear courtyard stone walls were all about ten chi high. Tightly against the walls’ exterior, another circle of verdant bamboo had been planted, enclosing Bamboo Garden so tightly not even wind could penetrate—only the southern main gate provided entry.

Just as Yao Huang’s party entered the garden, in the east room’s kang bed of the main building, Physician Liao was massaging Zhao Sui’s legs after his afternoon nap.

For those with disabled legs, without massage, leg muscles would gradually atrophy. Ordinary commoners who became disabled might not have conditions for daily massage, but Zhao Sui was an imperial prince and grandson. Ever since he’d been willing to accept physicians’ close attendance, except for yesterday’s wedding when there was no time, Zhao Sui’s three daily massage sessions had never been missed. This was what made his legs appear no different from ordinary people’s.

The two-ke-period massage continued with Zhao Sui’s eyes closed throughout while Physician Liao cooperatively maintained silence until the end.

Lowering His Highness’s legs, Physician Liao skillfully packed his things and bowed to take his leave.

At this moment, Zhao Sui wore only his inner garment and a pair of short pants sewn specifically to facilitate massage that basically only covered his private areas.

It wasn’t that Physician Liao was insensitive, abandoning His Highness and leaving. Rather, on the very first day Prince Hui took residence in Bamboo Garden, he’d established a rule: when he gave instructions, everyone needed to comply; when he gave no instructions, even if he fell to the ground, no one was permitted to step forward to help.

Only five people could enter Bamboo Garden to serve—Qing Ai, Fei Quan, two physicians, and Head Chef Kong. Chef Kong didn’t need to meet Prince Hui face-to-face. After the first four had each violated the rules a few times, they’d long since learned their lesson. As long as Prince Hui didn’t speak, they wouldn’t say an extra word or do extra tasks.

When Physician Liao stepped out of the hall, he even pulled the door closed behind him from outside, leaving it ajar.

Qing Ai continued keeping watch in the courtyard. Fei Quan saw Physician Liao out the gate, then entered the small gatehouse to rest.

In an instant, all of Bamboo Garden fell silent.

In the east room, Zhao Sui sat up supporting himself on the bed.

After massage, a layer of medicinal oil still remained on his legs requiring washing.

The room had a washing stand. Two rows of wooden support rails that Zhao Sui’s arms could grip extended from the bed all the way to the washing stand. Here, Zhao Sui could sit in a chair to complete washing his entire body. Water buckets and basins had already been positioned by Qing Ai and Fei Quan.

Two other rows of railings extended out from the east room, passing through the main hall to respectively reach the west room and rear courtyard.

The west room was Zhao Sui’s study. When tired of reading or wanting to relax, he would support himself on the railings, relying solely on his arms’ strength to slowly move to the rear courtyard to look at the sky or the bamboo sea outside the walls. After looking enough, he’d return inside.

Initially, Zhao Sui had no need for reading or relaxing. He’d rather just keep lying in Ming’an Hall’s bed, seeing no one and doing nothing.

However, leg disability wasn’t just a leg problem, nor could he lie in bed all day just because he wanted to. Having a heart like stagnant water was simple—the body remained alive.

If he didn’t want skin ulcers, didn’t want arms too weak to lift a bowl, didn’t want to need help getting in and out of bed, didn’t want others to completely assist him with washing or relieving himself, didn’t want to utterly lose face—he had to cooperate with the physicians’ exhortations. Either completely entrust his body to physicians’ care or find ways to exercise himself, so ultimately only his legs would be disabled.

After Yao Huang returned to Ming’an Hall, she entered her study.

Several cabinet shelves held only some books the manor had selected as decoration, requiring Yao Huang to gradually fill them according to her interests. But writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones were all abundant, each item the quality only wealthy officials’ families could afford.

Yao Zhenhu and his son were military men. When Yao Huang studied with her female teacher, she hadn’t been too dedicated either. What the teacher taught, she tried to learn; what the teacher didn’t teach, she didn’t study independently. At most she’d read story books she and her mother picked from bookshops.

As a complete philistine, even the finest writing implements before Yao Huang only had practical value. She wouldn’t treasure Xuan paper just because it was precious and elegant.

“Hua Mei, grind the ink.”

Having given instructions, Yao Huang signaled A’Ji with her eyes, telling her own philistine maid to carefully watch how Hua Mei ground it—might be useful in the future.

A’Ji blinked and deliberately stood at Hua Mei’s right rear, convenient for secretly learning.

Hua Mei hadn’t thought that far yet. She was more curious what Yao Huang would do.

With ink ready, Yao Huang selected a fine brush from the brush stand. After thinking, she boldly began drawing straight lines on the jade-smooth Xuan paper, then drew vertical lines after straight lines. When she drew wrong, she’d smear it and redraw beside it, making several spots on the paper pitch black.

Hua Mei: “…”

A’Ji understood: “Princess Consort is dividing the vegetable plot?”

Hua Mei: “…”

Yao Huang smiled: “Right! Once it’s properly divided, tomorrow I’ll have people turn the soil and start planting.”

This sheet was the rough draft. After thoroughly revising it, Yao Huang redrew two clean copies—one for herself to keep, one for Chief Steward Guo Shu.

Just finished, with ink not yet dry, Bai Ling announced from outside: “Princess Consort, His Highness has arrived at the front courtyard.”

Yao Huang: “Understood.”

Time for dinner. Yao Huang prepared to go directly, but Bai Ling pressed her lips together and gathered courage to remind: “Princess Consort, shall this servant fetch you a new pair of shoes?”

Yao Huang looked down and only then discovered her begonia-red silk embroidered shoes had a ring of dirt—must have been left when entering the vegetable plot.

Looking at Bai Ling’s nervous face, Yao Huang smiled: “Your attention to detail saved me from embarrassing myself before His Highness. Go quickly.”

Actually at home, dirt on shoes wasn’t a big deal at all. But her husband was a prince who’d enjoyed fine clothes and food since childhood—probably couldn’t tolerate an improperly dressed princess consort.

Bai Ling immediately went to the inner chamber.

A’Ji glanced at the princess consort’s shoes, silently noting she must be more attentive in the future, considering every aspect for the princess consort.

Hua Mei lowered her eyelids. She’d noticed early on the princess consort’s dirty shoes but deliberately said nothing. Unexpectedly Bai Ling would speak up—now instead it made her look incompetent.

Having changed shoes, Yao Huang looked at the five people beside her and said to Bai Ling: “Come with me to the front courtyard.”

Though at the front courtyard Bai Ling could only stand in the courtyard, following the princess consort out was a sign of a maid’s favor.

Hua Mei glared at Bai Ling. Could this girl be trying to steal her position as first senior maid?

Bai Ling received her knife-like stare but had no time to respond, turning to follow beside the princess consort.

Hua Mei’s gaze shifted, looking with seeming amusement at A’Ji, who was also left behind: “Look at that—with this achievement, Bai Ling has surpassed you.”

A’Ji: “…It’s just going to the front courtyard. You really think too much.”

Hua Mei: “…”

At the front courtyard, the dining table was already set, just waiting for His Highness and the Princess Consort to gather before serving.

Yao Huang was beginning to get used to Prince Hui’s lifeless air. After greeting him, she sat herself down at His Highness’s lower right.

Just seated, Zhao Sui said: “Serve the meal.”

Qing Ai went out to arrange it, staying outside in the process.

Yao Huang smiled at Prince Hui: “Your Highness, I’ve decided what to plant in the vegetable plot. I just drew diagrams—shall I show you later?”

Zhao Sui nodded.

Yao Huang: “Also, at noon we simply can’t finish so many dishes. It’s a shame to waste them, so I told the kitchen to make fewer dishes. Does that work for you?”

Zhao Sui: “Yes.”

Yao Huang was just privately complaining this person was stingy with words when the kitchen first delivered a plate of cold dressed pork liver and a dish of golden yellow fruit slices.

Yao Huang smelled the sweet and sour fruit fragrance. Glancing at the little maid delivering the food, she remained quiet. After the little maid left, she asked Prince Hui softly: “Your Highness, what fruit is this?”

Zhao Sui glanced at the fruit plate: “Mango, a tribute sent from Jiaozhou.”

Yao Huang knew Jiaozhou—it was this dynasty’s southernmost province. The climate was reportedly hot, with winters as warm as Beijing’s spring days.

“Is it good?”

“Mm.”

Yao Huang used the fruit fork to spear a slice. Just as she was about to bring it toward herself, inspiration struck. She smiled and held it before Prince Hui: “Your Highness, you eat first.”

Zhao Sui leaned back to avoid it: “I’ll do it myself.”

Seeing he had the intention to frown, Yao Huang ate it herself. When the ninety-percent-sweet, ten-percent-sour delicious flavor burst on her tongue, Yao Huang looked at Prince Hui with surprise, satisfaction and fondness overflowing in her expression.

After swallowing the fruit slice, Yao Huang said excitedly: “It’s so delicious! Truly sweet as honey.”

Zhao Sui recalled Fei Quan’s report from days ago and reminded: “Father Emperor bestowed two baskets. This fruit doesn’t keep well. If you like it, eat more. What you can’t finish can be rewarded to the servants.”

While continuing to spear pieces, Yao Huang asked curiously: “Your Highness doesn’t like eating it?”

Zhao Sui: “Can take it or leave it. Can’t say I like it.”

Yao Huang: “Then what fruits does Your Highness like?”

Zhao Sui: “…All about the same.”

Yao Huang guessed his leg disability had dulled his appetite for food. She’d have to ask Head Chef Kong later.

After eating three slices, Yao Huang used another fork to spear one for him: “You try some too. Otherwise just me eating alone feels quite awkward.”

Only then did Zhao Sui accept it. Later, seeing Yao Huang look over again and not wanting her to help further, Zhao Sui slowly ate two more slices himself.

Having whetted their appetites, two hot dishes were also delivered, along with a cup of enticingly fragrant chicken soup.

Afraid of annoying Prince Hui, Yao Huang didn’t dare talk too much, yet couldn’t help glancing over every little while. Eating was something everyone had to feel relaxed about to eat heartily. Otherwise with one person expressionless, occasionally moving chopsticks, while the other ate with gusto—it would show lack of care for the other. Following along eating little would wrong one’s stomach.

Yao Huang had large eyes like black grapes. Zhao Sui understood her difficulty the first time their eyes met. The seventeen-year-old princess consort shouldn’t be prevented from enjoying her meals. Anyway, the number of times he’d accompany her each month was limited—might as well accompany her in eating more.

Thus Zhao Sui also increased the frequency of picking up dishes.

After finishing the dishes, Yao Huang ladled him a bowl of chicken soup filled eighty percent. Chicken soup was wonderful—nourishing qi, supplementing blood, strengthening body and health, perfectly suited for His Highness.

Under Yao Huang’s occasional stolen glances, Zhao Sui finished this bowl of soup.

After rinsing his mouth, he said to Yao Huang: “You go back first. After I bathe here, I’ll come see you. From now on it will be the same.”

Yao Huang left well-fed and satisfied.

Half a ke period later, with sky thoroughly dark, Zhao Sui, having changed into a set of everyday clothes, was pushed by Qing Ai to the rear courtyard.

Yao Huang had already washed earlier, wearing a set of water-red inner garment and sleeping pants. She first hid in the washing room. After Qing Ai left, she emerged.

Seeing Prince Hui leaning against the headboard, Yao Huang grabbed the drawing paper from the dressing table, sat at the bedside, and displayed it: “Look—I divided the vegetable plot into two sections, south and north. The south side from outside inward will plant sweet potatoes, wheat, and corn. The north side from outside inward will be vegetable beds, melon fields, and grape trellises. The tall ones are all inside so they won’t block the view.”

Zhao Sui first noticed her characters that could only be praised as neat.

Yao Huang continued explaining: “It’s half a mu! If we plant all vegetables we simply can’t eat them all. Planting several varieties means trying several fresh things. Don’t you think so?”

Zhao Sui was noncommittal.

Yao Huang pointed at five vegetable beds: “These are five vegetable types I randomly listed. Does Your Highness have any you want to eat? Also the melon field and grapes—do you want to change anything?”

Zhao Sui: “No need. Just follow your arrangement.”

Yao Huang was also confident in her layout. Smiling, she placed the drawing paper on the table.

Zhao Sui: “Sleep.”

Tonight there were no wedding candles. Yao Huang extinguished lamps in several places, leaving only one dim yellow lamp beside the washing room door.

The alcove bed area was very, very dark. Yao Huang approached closely before seeing the heavy wheelchair positioned at the bedside, its back completely empty with nothing on it.

His Highness hadn’t removed his pants!

Realizing His Highness had no interest in that aspect tonight, Yao Huang instinctively breathed a sigh of relief. Though last night she’d found pleasure, she better remembered the initial pain, fearing each time would have to hurt first.

Climbing onto the bed and burrowing into the quilt, Yao Huang also learned from His Highness to lie flat.

When her breathing returned to steady, Yao Huang smelled a faint, pleasant fragrance.

She gently sniffed and asked in surprise: “What bathing fragrance does Your Highness use? It smells so good.”

Zhao Sui: “…”

He’d used nothing. That was the lingering scent of massage medicinal oil, which even bathing couldn’t completely eliminate.

“Qing Ai prepared it. I don’t know the specific ingredients either.”

Yao Huang moved closer, embracing him as she had last night, deeply inhaling: “Wonderful. More refreshing than the flower dew I use.”

The flower dew the manor prepared was fragrant but also somewhat cloying.

Zhao Sui’s whole body tensed, not knowing whether she was simply praising the medicinal oil’s scent or borrowing pretense to curry favor.

Though Zhao Sui didn’t think she would genuinely like consummating with him, if there was no reason, why would she embrace him like this?

“Don’t like the flower dew you’re using now?”

“It’s okay. Would be better if the fragrance were a bit lighter.”

Zhao Sui: “Tell Nanny Liu tomorrow. The manor should have other flower dews. If not, have the fragrance shop send a batch over.”

Yao Huang demurred: “I just married in. Let’s wait a while before talking about it.”

Her heart felt shy, and unconsciously her person also squirmed along. The left arm Zhao Sui was being pressed against felt as if rolling in cotton.

After stiffening momentarily, Zhao Sui grasped the hand resting at his waist.

He simply didn’t want the princess consort moving around and touching what shouldn’t be touched. But Yao Huang didn’t know that—she thought His Highness just wanted to hold her hand.

Yao Zhenhu was a crude man, and Luo Jinhua was also a village girl from a small town. When Yao Huang was small, she often caught the couple embracing or kissing in small gestures.

Prince Hui was so cold. During the day, Yao Huang had no opportunity to cultivate feelings with him. Now that His Highness finally took initiative, Yao Huang’s heart softened. She embraced Prince Hui even tighter, calling out “Your Highness” with both shyness and joy.

Intimacy between husband and wife was good—it would make the manor feel more like her home.

And having been called “Your Highness” for five years, Zhao Sui learned for the first time that the word “Highness” could be drawn out with several bends.

The princess consort’s intention to curry favor was already quite obvious. Zhao Sui didn’t want to humiliate her, so he said with closed eyes: “I’m thirsty. Go pour me a bowl of water.”

Yao Huang: “…”

So holding her hand was just to order her around?

She pouted, not daring to complain, and resignedly got off the bed to pour water.

Unexpectedly, when she returned, a pair of inner trousers had appeared on the wheelchair!

Yao Huang’s hand trembled, her heart trembling along—again?