The night before the wedding, Yao Huang had wildly speculated about many things, such as whether Prince Hui could still have children, and whether Prince Hui would kiss her on the mouth.
A man she’d only glimpsed once during the selection—hugging and embracing was one thing, but suddenly kissing on the mouth—at the time Yao Huang had found the thought quite repulsive.
After truly marrying, Yao Huang discovered Prince Hui was an extremely aloof person. Apart from doing at night what a newly married couple should do, during the day Prince Hui placed great importance on rules. Even kissing him once on the face would earn her a scolding of “don’t be rude.”
After the two became familiar and could be affectionate day and night, Prince Hui still didn’t kiss her on the mouth. Yao Huang truly understood—Prince Hui probably disdained her saliva, just as she would disdain others’. From then on, Yao Huang never again thought about kissing on the mouth. After all, not kissing wouldn’t interfere with true pleasure.
But today, Prince Hui had personally said he didn’t disdain her, had eaten the hawthorn fruit she’d left behind, and showed such a reserved, alluring appearance!
Thinking of this, Yao Huang turned over, lest Prince Hui notice her thinking about improper things.
Prince Hui, holding the storybook, glanced at the princess consort’s turned back, realizing the princess consort had no intentions—she was sleepy now and going to sleep.
The osmanthus sugar in his mouth had only melted around the edges. Since the princess consort was sleeping, Zhao Sui no longer needed to consider whether to eat it quickly or slowly. He continued holding it motionlessly, reading the storybook before him at ten lines per glance.
Yao Huang’s eyes were open. She could hear the slight sound of Prince Hui turning pages.
Yao Huang suddenly felt a bit angry. This morning in the carriage, especially before getting out, she had felt Prince Hui staring at her lips. His breathing had also become irregular. After lunch, her afternoon nap invitation had been full of hints. This person had agreed meaningfully, clearly understanding her meaning. Why was he now eating a piece of sugar so slowly?
Such a small sugar piece—wouldn’t chewing it twice and swallowing be enough?
First hot then restless, it made Yao Huang thirsty.
She sat up. When Prince Hui looked over, she glared at him and moved to the edge of the bed, lowering her head to put on her shoes.
Zhao Sui put down the book and asked: “Why aren’t you sleeping?”
Yao Huang was too lazy to pay him attention. She walked to the table, turning her back to Prince Hui and pouring herself a bowl of warm water. Her lips and tongue moistened by water lost the sweetness left by the osmanthus sugar, becoming fresh and clean, also slightly suppressing that restless stirring in her heart.
Yao Huang drank another mouthful.
After drinking, she looked at the osmanthus sugar on the table and smiled. Holding the dish, she returned to the bedside, deliberately placing the dish on Prince Hui’s wheelchair, saying gently and softly: “Your Highness, eat slowly. When you finish, there’s more here.”
Zhao Sui: “…”
As a prince who had been very good at reading expressions since age three or four, Zhao Sui could see very clearly—the princess consort was blaming him for wasting too much time on the osmanthus sugar.
So the princess consort did have designs.
Zhao Sui put down the storybook in his hands and stopped the princess consort’s body preparing to come up: “Pour me a bowl of water.”
The osmanthus sugar in Prince Hui’s mouth was still the size of a peanut, somewhat affecting his enunciation.
Yao Huang glared at him again, cooperatively going to pour water for Prince Hui whose legs were inconvenient.
Standing by the bed, she watched Prince Hui lower his head to drink water, watched his Adam’s apple roll obviously once. But drinking water was like this—Yao Huang didn’t pay much attention. She turned to place the tea bowl on the low cabinet by the floor screen, climbed onto the bed deliberately lying at the innermost part, then pulled the quilts in front and behind tightly over herself.
Just after covering herself, the quilt was pulled open and Prince Hui embraced her from behind.
Yao Huang turned her head, looking at him strangely: “Has Your Highness finished the sugar?”
Prince Hui simply hummed in acknowledgment.
Yao Huang’s gaze involuntarily fell on his lips.
The princess consort looking here further confirmed the guess that had surfaced in Zhao Sui’s mind when he saw the osmanthus sugar after entering the room. His heartbeat quickened, his gaze also sweeping over the princess consort’s lips.
So close—who wouldn’t notice whose gaze?
After all, it was an untried novel variation. Yao Huang’s whole body heated up accordingly. She lowered her eyelashes, expressing doubt in a small voice: “How come I didn’t hear you chew?”
Prince Hui didn’t want to explain.
Yao Huang thought of it herself. When she looked at Prince Hui again, her eyes were full of laughter: “When drinking water, Your Highness swallowed it?”
Prince Hui didn’t want to answer and closed his eyes.
Yao Huang completely turned around, moving up a bit. Looking at Prince Hui’s relapsed reserved appearance, she inserted her right hand between his neck and the pillow, her left hand wrapping around from above, pressing against his face and asking: “Since Your Highness doesn’t disdain my saliva, why did you never kiss me before?”
Zhao Sui couldn’t explain.
Yao Huang didn’t really care about the answer either. Her whole body pressed against him, her face nearly burning: “Then does Your Highness want to kiss me?”
Zhao Sui opened his eyes.
Yao Huang nervously closed hers, only continuing to hold his neck, her face still pressed against Prince Hui’s face.
Zhao Sui tightened his grip on her waist, his voice hoarse: “I’ve never tried this. I’m not certain whether you can accept it.”
Consummating a marriage was almost every man’s instinct, requiring no teaching. Kissing was different—it seemed to have no meaning, so there was no specific method to follow.
Yao Huang huffed: “You say it as if I’ve tried it before. I also only thought of this because Your Highness’s lips look good.”
Zhao Sui: “…I didn’t mean to doubt you.”
Yao Huang covered his mouth.
Zhao Sui then grasped her wrist, letting the princess consort’s slender fingers first become accustomed to his lips and tongue.
Yao Huang had already experienced this once—both shy and strange. When she couldn’t bear it and wanted to burrow into Prince Hui’s embrace, Prince Hui suddenly half-pressed down, kissing from her neck, forcing her to raise her chin, then kissing all the way to the corner of her lips.
They’d been married so long, yet Yao Huang felt today was the closest she’d been to Prince Hui. Even on those nights when Prince Hui supported himself with his elbows above her, even when she tightly hooked his neck and Prince Hui panted restrainedly at her ear or forehead, the two hadn’t been as close as this moment—like another kind of consummation.
Sleeping and sleeping, Yao Huang woke up thirsty. Turning over, she discovered no one beside her and the room was also completely dark.
For a moment, Yao Huang actually couldn’t distinguish whether it was evening or the next morning, until she saw the osmanthus sugar that had somehow been placed back on the table outside the bed curtains.
Her body felt soft and limp. Yao Huang was too lazy to move and called A’Ji to come pour her water.
A’Ji first lit a lamp, then walked into the bed curtains carrying a tea bowl. The warm interior enclosed by two layers of bed curtains floated with the faint sweet fragrance of osmanthus. Mixed into the sweet fragrance was another scent the four senior maids were not unfamiliar with.
The princess consort drank water. A’Ji nonchalantly lifted the two layers of curtains.
Her throat moistened, Yao Huang lay back on the pillow and asked: “When did Your Highness leave?”
A’Ji said: “Two quarter-hours ago? Today His Highness also slept a bit longer.”
Having worked continuously for over two months, with a rare holiday, the four senior maids could all understand Prince Hui’s occasional sleeping in. As for the princess consort, they were already accustomed to her sleeping until however late.
Yao Huang gritted her teeth. This person, Prince Hui—reserved as he was reserved, but once he started, Prince Hui seemed to become a different person. All reserve and consideration could be thrown to the back of his mind. He wouldn’t stop until he’d squeezed out her very last tear.
She touched her lips—they still seemed somewhat swollen, feeling strange even when the tea bowl pressed down.
A’Ji noticed the princess consort’s movement and leaned close to look, saying in shock: “Why are the princess consort’s lips so red? It’s like you just ate a spicy hot pot meal.”
Hearing this, Yao Huang’s stomach rumbled twice.
A’Ji quickly attended to the princess consort getting up and changing clothes.
Outside, cold wind whistled sharply. As Yao Huang prepared to put on her cloak, Prince Hui was pushed over by Qing Ai. Yao Huang stood in the inner chamber, hearing Prince Hui say to Qing Ai: “Tell the kitchen to send dinner here.”
A’Ji also heard and smiled quietly: “His Highness must know the princess consort just got up and fears she’ll catch cold going outside.”
Since His Highness had come, A’Ji put away the princess consort’s cloak and withdrew shoulder to shoulder with Chun Yan.
Yao Huang listened as they left the main hall, then walked out. In the main hall she saw Prince Hui sitting upright in the wheelchair facing north. Prince Hui had changed into a jade-white brocade robe. His handsome face was also reflected by lamplight into beautiful jade—truly the bearing of a transcendent, otherworldly immortal detached from the mortal realm.
Yao Huang stopped at the secondary room doorway. Thinking of the situation of Prince Hui gripping her chin and kissing her over and over, she belatedly understood why Prince Hui had been so reluctant to kiss her. Because if it was just consummation, most of the time she couldn’t see Prince Hui’s face clearly. No matter how forceful Prince Hui was, she couldn’t imagine Prince Hui’s expression. Prince Hui could continue maintaining his immortal appearance. But once they kissed, even though she always kept her eyes closed and still couldn’t see Prince Hui, Prince Hui kissed so fiercely—with lips and tongue moving, it would be absolutely impossible to maintain his gentlemanly indifference from daytime.
Yao Huang smiled, leaning against the doorway, waiting for Prince Hui to actively look over.
Prince Hui, who could see the princess consort’s movements from the corner of his eye: “…”
He poured himself a bowl of warm water. Tea was stimulating and unsuitable for evening drinking.
Yao Huang had no choice but to walk over, carrying a chair and placing it beside him, pouting her lips as she looked toward Prince Hui.
Zhao Sui set down the tea bowl he’d raised halfway: “…What’s wrong?”
Yao Huang pointed to her own lips.
Zhao Sui glanced quickly—they seemed more rosy than usual.
Yao Huang said resentfully: “They hurt. Next time I won’t allow Your Highness to kiss for so long.”
Zhao Sui: “…”
Yao Huang smiled and pulled away, calling the maids to bring dinner.
Full from eating and drinking, having also slept too long in the afternoon, Yao Huang wasn’t sleepy at all. She had Qing Ai bring the red paper bought during the day. She set up a small table on the heated platform in the secondary room. Prince Hui sat at one end grinding ink and writing blessing characters. Yao Huang sat at the other end holding scissors cutting window flowers. The red paper for window flowers was outlined with pattern lines. For hers and His Highness’s front and rear courtyards respectively, Yao Huang chose two designs of window flowers—”Five Grains Bountiful” and “Surplus Year after Year”—planning to cut them all in one go tonight.
Zhao Sui finished writing one blessing character and raised his eyes, seeing the princess consort sitting cross-legged opposite, wearing a bright red satin-faced jacket. The window flowers in her hands were red, her face was also rosy and plump, her eyes bright. Her whole body exuded the festive spirit of the approaching New Year.
By the time the princess consort finished cutting the window flowers, Zhao Sui’s blessing characters had also formed a thick stack.
On New Year’s Eve, after eating breakfast, Yao Huang pushed Prince Hui, bringing Qing Ai and Fei Quan to paste couplets throughout the prince’s residence.
Yao Huang still remembered Prince Hui had painted a picture of Qing Ai and Fei Quan pasting couplets. After finishing, she said to Prince Hui: “This afternoon when I’m making dumplings, Your Highness should also paint me a New Year picture.”
Zhao Sui naturally agreed.
Yao Huang: “The year I’m spending together with Your Highness—the painting shouldn’t only have me, it must also include Your Highness.”
Zhao Sui: “…I’ve never painted myself.”
Yao Huang smiled: “In any case, I want both of us in the painting. If Your Highness can’t paint it, don’t blame me for taking up the brush and painting you beside me.”
Prince Hui immediately thought of the snowman prince the princess consort had built, still frozen on the lake surface in the rear garden.
“…I’ll try.”