Tonight the wheelchair remained empty once again.

Yao Huang didn’t know how other newlywed couples spent their nights, much less what it was like with a husband who had leg problems. Perhaps this matter should be restrained by nature, or perhaps the prince with his inconvenient legs wasn’t enthusiastic about it.

Yao Huang only felt relieved of a burden. She and the prince had only known each other a few days. Each time the prince’s hand reached over in the darkness and silence, Yao Huang’s heart hung suspended. It was difficult to reconcile that prince with the silent, naturally imposing prince of daylight, let alone those sounds she made that even she was embarrassed to hear.

If two people lost composure together, it would probably be easier to accept. However, only she was tormented to near madness. The prince at most breathed more heavily—even the way he looked at her seemed no different from daytime.

Yao Huang was very glad she’d deliberately mussed her hair to imitate that state and looked in the mirror. The her in the mirror wasn’t actually ugly. Otherwise, with her long hair disheveled, crying and calling out, she would truly seem like a madwoman in the prince’s eyes, adding frost to an already water-thin marital relationship.

Yao Huang had learned to treasure this small opportunity to share a bed. After burrowing into the quilt, she skillfully embraced him.

The person in her arms didn’t move a muscle, only his chest rising and falling with regular breathing.

Inside the bed curtains was complete darkness. Yao Huang could barely make out Prince Hui’s profile from chin to collarbone. Occasionally his Adam’s apple would roll up and down.

Smelling the faint fragrance coming from him, Yao Huang praised: “The names of those four horses sound so lovely. Did Your Highness name them yourself?”

Zhao Sui: “Mm.”

Yao Huang: “Then please help name my horse too. I chose the dark red one.”

Zhao Sui thought for a moment and said: “Ni Guang.”

Yao Huang was very pleased and also admiring: “Is Your Highness’s scholarship especially excellent?”

Complete silence.

Yao Huang laughed: “That was a pointless question. Your Highness isn’t one to boast about himself.”

Still silence.

Yao Huang bit her lip and gently shook his shoulder: “Does Your Highness dislike chatting with me? If so, I’ll honestly sleep from now on and never disturb you again.”

Zhao Sui: “…That’s not it.”

Yao Huang: “Then why are you completely silent?”

Zhao Sui: “I’m not good at chatting. I can only answer your questions.”

Yao Huang propped herself halfway up, looking down at his hazy face from above, smiling: “Will Your Highness answer whatever I ask?”

Zhao Sui: “What I can answer, I’ll answer.”

Yao Huang: “Then I actually have a pile of things I want to ask, just afraid some sentence will be wrong and make you unhappy.”

Zhao Sui: “I won’t answer questions that would make me unhappy. As long as you don’t deliberately provoke me next time, I won’t get angry.”

Yao Huang’s right arm supported her body while her left hand twirled a strand of hair, humming softly: “If you weren’t a prince, I wouldn’t be so cautious around my own husband. But you are a prince, and I’m very afraid you’ll throw around your princely authority at the drop of a hat. At best you’d punish me to kneel in the ancestral hall where even the servants would dare look down on me. At worst you’d divorce me, making me the laughingstock of the entire capital.”

Zhao Sui smiled briefly—a soundless, shallow smile undetected by the princess beside him.

“Then you can stop treating me as a prince. I also won’t use my princely status to pressure you.”

Yao Huang: “Truly?”

Zhao Sui: “Truly. From now on, you needn’t use honorifics with me either.”

Yao Huang smiled and leaned close to his ear, deliberately drawing out her voice: “Your Highness, you—are—truly—good.”

Zhao Sui tilted his head to the other side.

Yao Huang guessed he probably found it ticklish. Mischievously pursuing him, she blew gently into his ear.

Zhao Sui closed his eyes.

Since he wouldn’t dodge, the game lost its fun. Yao Huang leaned back against his shoulder, hugging him and asking: “Your Highness sits in the wheelchair all day—doesn’t your bottom get sore?”

Zhao Sui: “…”

Yao Huang’s body stiffened: “I didn’t offend you with the very first question, did I? Your Highness, don’t misunderstand. What I meant to say was, the wheelchair is so hard. If you get uncomfortable sitting for long periods, I can sew you a cushion.”

Yao Huang had long wondered—the imperial family was so good at enjoying comforts, even the carriage interior contained so many exquisite items. How had no one thought to add padding to the prince’s wheelchair?

Zhao Sui: “…No need. I don’t spend more time daily in the wheelchair than an ordinary civil official.”

Yao Huang: “I see. Do you lie down the rest of the time?”

Zhao Sui: “Reading. When tired of reading, I’ll prop myself up on something and stand for a while.”

Hearing this, Yao Huang found his left hand. Her fingertips rubbed the thick calluses on his palm, understanding how they’d formed.

Thinking too much about it, Yao Huang’s face heated. She buried herself in his shoulder, saying: “No wonder Your Highness’s arms are so strong.”

He only completely pressed down on her afterward to rest briefly. Throughout the process, he relied entirely on his arms for support.

Zhao Sui: “…Want some?”

Yao Huang was feeling shy about the images in her head. Her voice came out thin and soft: “Want what?” Arms as strong as the prince’s?

Zhao Sui: “Nothing.”

Now Yao Huang understood. Extreme embarrassment made her release his body as if scalded, rolling to the inner part of the bed, pulling the quilt over her head and protesting indignantly: “I don’t! Was purely praising you—did I praise wrong?”

That tone of urgent denial was exactly like a child who clearly craved candy but was too thin-skinned to admit it and had to deny and cover up.

Zhao Sui looked toward the bed curtains: “Mm, then let’s sleep.”

As silence spread, Yao Huang under the covers grew less hot. Once her chaotic mind calmed down, her heart lurched—could it be the prince himself wanted it, which was why he asked her?

The prince said such nice things—how she needn’t treat him as a prince. But if she truly didn’t take him seriously, the prince might actually get angry.

Coming around, Yao Huang remained under the covers but gradually shifted back to the prince’s side, hugging his waist from within, her emerging voice sticky as honey: “Does Your Highness want some? If you want, then I want.”

Zhao Sui suddenly gripped her hand, voice low: “Sleep. Tomorrow is the twenty-fifth—I’ll still be sleeping on this side.”

If they did it tonight and again tomorrow night, she might resent a disabled prince for being so greedy.

In the morning Zhao Sui woke first. Yao Huang, embarrassed about last night’s “seductive words” under the covers, lay inside pretending to sleep. After all, her quilt was pulled up tightly—Qing Ai would at most see her head.

Zhao Sui had already sat up. Seeing her stubbornly unmoving, he looked at his own legs before finally shaking the bell.

Qing Ai pushed the door open and entered. Lowering his eyes, he lifted both layers of the canopy bed’s curtains and suddenly caught sight of a pair of red-soled sleeping shoes.

Never mind that Yao Huang wasn’t accustomed to having eunuchs attend her—this was also Qing Ai’s first time facing the princess in the bedchamber. He secretly steadied his composure and focused single-mindedly on helping the prince dress.

He was too practiced at this routine. In no time he was pushing the wheelchair with the prince out.

Yao Huang came back to life.

But when going to the front courtyard for breakfast, Yao Huang still didn’t dare look at the prince beside her. Her face felt hot, her heart held a ball of resentment. The prince had clearly started it. When she asked to please him, he just needed to cooperate and do it once—that would have been the end of it. But he’d properly refused her, making her seem even more thick-skinned.

Since the wedding, this was the first time Yao Huang hadn’t proactively sought conversation.

Zhao Sui could see her flushed face—not her usual natural healthy color, but more like the shy appearance when she first frankly faced him on their wedding night.

Zhao Sui silently served her a pan-fried dumpling.

The dumpling’s skin was slightly golden brown. Each was only thumb-length. A plate held them arranged in a circle with a sprig of bright green cilantro in the center, purely for viewing.

“Thank you.” Yao Huang thanked him while glancing at his chest, picking up the dumpling to dip in the vinegar dish before eating it in two bites.

She’d only scooped half a spoonful of red date and yam porridge when another dumpling arrived from the side.

Yao Huang finally properly looked at Prince Hui. Seeing him calmly eating his own meal with a composed expression, Yao Huang understood—the prince hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with what she’d said last night.

But Yao Huang still felt wronged. She wanted to tell him she absolutely wasn’t such a frivolous girl. Her father’s rank was low and her mother wasn’t a refined lady from a great house, but the upbringing at home was thorough—both she and her brother were good children who knew propriety, righteousness, integrity, and shame!

Staring at that dumpling, Yao Huang slowly set down her chopsticks and said with lowered head: “It’s all your fault. You clearly said it first. I hadn’t thought of it at all—I only said it because I feared you’d get angry.”

Zhao Sui: “…I know. I haven’t misunderstood you.”

Yao Huang looked over.

Zhao Sui saw resentment within, yet even so, what floated through his mind was still the princess at another time.

He lowered his eyes: “Eat. We still have horseback riding after.”

Thinking of riding horses—that a prince with crippled legs was willing to accompany her riding—Yao Huang’s heart softened. Reciprocating the courtesy, she also served him a dumpling.

Zhao Sui didn’t dip it in vinegar.

Yao Huang, forgetting about last night’s matters, asked: “Does Your Highness not like vinegar?”

Zhao Sui: “I can take it or leave it.”

Yao Huang decided to slowly observe his dietary preferences. Over time, they would surely reveal themselves.

After rinsing their mouths, Yao Huang pushed the wheelchair outside. Qing Ai and Fei Quan both followed behind.

Zhao Sui looked at the two people’s shadows on the ground beside him. That she was willing to help push the wheelchair meant this morning’s little unhappiness had finally passed.

At the rear garden entrance, Steward Guo and guard Zhang Yue each led a horse—Startling Mist and Yao Huang’s newly named Ni Guang.

Handing the wheelchair to Qing Ai, Yao Huang first went to be affectionate with her own steed, stroking its face with a smile: “I asked His Highness to name you. Ni Guang—brilliant and beautiful as a rainbow. Do you like it?”

Ni Guang nuzzled her hand—either showing approval or not understanding.

Yao Huang decided for it. Turning back to look, Startling Mist had actually walked to the wheelchair on its own and knelt down, so obedient it inspired envy.

Zhao Sui looked at the mount that had once shared life and death with him. At the edge of his vision was the princess’s red skirt hem.

Unrelated commoners and guests had witnessed him mounting and dismounting horses before, but she had not.

Yao Huang suddenly noticed that Steward Guo, Zhang Yue, Fei Quan, and Qing Ai—all four wore nearly identical expressions of lowered eyes and solemnity, as if they were about to complete an extremely important task that tolerated no error. The prince maintained his usual deathly calm state. Only A’Ji, who twisted around to examine the four, seemed like a living person.

Actually not just now—every time the prince mounted or dismounted the carriage, these several people wore expressions as if they’d died along with the prince.

But if the prince truly minded them watching, would he have agreed to go out, agreed to ride horses?

Yao Huang released Ni Guang, walked over with a smile, and instructed the four: “Step aside and watch.”

This tone was too relaxed and familiar. All four looked simultaneously toward the prince.

Zhao Sui made a subtle gesture. Only then did the four retreat several steps to the side.

Yao Huang measured the distance between the wheelchair’s front section and Startling Mist’s back. Confirming the wheelchair was secured and wouldn’t move around on its own, she knelt on one knee with her back to Prince Hui on the platform before the wheelchair, saying: “Your Highness, lean onto my back and steady yourself by holding my shoulders.”

The prince’s legs simply couldn’t move—his upper body wasn’t useless. This movement wasn’t difficult for him.

Zhao Sui was very clear that if he refused, she would lose face before Steward Guo and the other three.

So he straightened his waist and leaned onto her shoulders.

Yao Huang wrapped her arms back around his waist and slowly straightened her legs.

Zhao Sui’s legs couldn’t exert force, but his hands steadily grasped Yao Huang’s shoulders, maintaining balance.

When Yao Huang was younger, she often played rock-paper-scissors with her brother. The loser had to carry the other person for twenty steps.

As the siblings grew older, the weight difference increased. But even when her brother reached one hundred seventy or eighty jin, Yao Huang could still complete those twenty steps.

The prince who’d been ill for a year was lighter than her brother. Yao Huang completed these three or four steps fairly easily.

Standing sideways by Startling Mist, Yao Huang instructed A’Ji: “Lift His Highness’s right leg onto Startling Mist’s back.”

A’Ji ultimately hadn’t done this before and didn’t know how to assist someone mounting a horse. In her brief moment of hesitation, Qing Ai swiftly circled around and skillfully completed this step.

Once Prince Hui was on the horse’s back, the rest was simple. Yao Huang and Qing Ai, one on each side, fitted Prince Hui’s feet into the stirrups. Prince Hui would naturally grasp the reins to maintain balance, and Startling Mist was an exceptionally intelligent divine steed that knew how to care for the master on its back.

Finishing the task, Yao Huang looked at Prince Hui sitting high on horseback and said to Qing Ai and Fei Quan: “From now on, just carry His Highness onto the horse this way. Isn’t it quite simple?”

Both Qing Ai and Fei Quan acknowledged, their hearts holding unspeakable bitterness. They were accustomed to lifting the wheelchair and accustomed to following their habits of moving the prince unless he made requests. If the prince didn’t ask them to carry him, how would they dare take initiative?

Yao Huang went to mount Ni Guang herself, ordering all five people to remain here. She would ride into the garden alone with Prince Hui.

Some sections of the garden paths were wide—at these times the couple rode side by side. Encountering narrow sections, they changed to single file.

However, when riding side by side, Yao Huang found herself somewhat unaccustomed to tilting her head in non-meal circumstances and meeting Prince Hui’s handsome face. Moreover, even though it was the same face, with the prince on horseback appearing no different from an ordinary person, that face became even more handsome and extraordinary—clearly a noble personage beyond the reach of common women.

Yao Huang once again realized she’d truly picked up a great bargain. Without the leg issue, Prince Hui would have long become Princess Fucheng’s son-in-law, only half a step away from the Eastern Palace.

But then, which person who picked up a bargain wouldn’t be happy about it?

That she, Yao Huang, could end up with such a handsome prince meant she was born with this good fortune.

Zhao Sui: “…What are you smiling about?”

Every so often the princess would tilt her head to stare at him and steal glances. It was difficult for Zhao Sui not to notice.

Yao Huang acted mysterious: “Guess?”

Zhao Sui couldn’t guess, only knowing it should be related to him.

Yao Huang thought for a moment, pointing at her own face and asking: “What does Your Highness think of my appearance?”

Zhao Sui: “…You’re aptly named.”

Just ahead was a peony flower bed, and the manor’s flower beds naturally included famous varieties like Yao Huang and Wei Zi.

Newly opened Yao Huang peony petals were goose yellow, turning golden yellow when fully bloomed. The flower heads were full, wealthy, and graceful, dazzlingly bright in the sunlight, earning the title “King of Flowers.”

Yao Huang’s heart felt sweet. She said quietly: “Worthy of being His Highness—even praising people, you do it better than others.”

Zhao Sui silently watched the road ahead.

Yao Huang: “Then with my appearance, does Your Highness like it?”

Zhao Sui gave a simple affirmative sound.

Yao Huang smiled again: “Your Highness likes it, but Your Highness doesn’t show emotions on your face. I’m different—my husband is handsome, so I definitely can’t help smiling.”

These words were somewhat bold. Having said them, Yao Huang blushed. Not wanting the prince to see, she urged her horse ahead.

Zhao Sui could only watch the princess’s back—watching the red jade pendants swaying by her ears, watching her fair, luminous nape, watching her waist subtly twisting with the horse’s gait, watching her legs positioned on either side of the horse’s belly.

Zhao Sui stopped his horse.

Missing one set of hoofbeats, Yao Huang looked back in puzzlement.

Zhao Sui: “Come here.”

Yao Huang couldn’t read his pleasure or displeasure. She turned her horse around. The closer she got, facing his focused, unwavering gaze, the more nervous Yao Huang became.

Zhao Sui: “Dismount.”

The more commanding his tone, the less Yao Huang dared disobey. Standing on the ground, just as she was reflecting on which sentence she’d said wrong, the person above said: “Come up.”

Yao Huang was shocked. Even more shocking—Startling Mist actually knelt down!

As Startling Mist knelt steadily, Zhao Sui grasped Yao Huang’s wrist and directly pulled her onto the horse’s back.

Yao Huang frantically spread her legs and proactively sat in front of the prince to avoid both of them tumbling down from the pulling and tugging.

Startling Mist stood up again and slowly walked forward.

Zhao Sui placed the reins in Yao Huang’s hands. He embraced her waist and asked above her head: “Why did you flee after speaking?”

Yao Huang blushed without answering.

Zhao Sui: “Afraid I wouldn’t like such words from you?”

Yao Huang first explained: “I wouldn’t say such things to just anyone. Your Highness is my husband, so I dared to speak. Besides, I was telling the truth. Just now I smiled precisely because Your Highness is handsome.”

Zhao Sui: “Mm, I also won’t dislike it for that reason.”

Yao Huang relaxed.

Zhao Sui: “Including what you said last night—I didn’t dislike that either.”

Yao Huang’s heart burned hot, her whole body erupting in flames.

The bamboo grove lay ahead. At this moment, the bamboo courtyard was empty of people.

Zhao Sui looked twice, but ultimately still led her forward.