Qing Ai and Fei Quan went to tidy things up, while Yao Huang pushed Prince Hui back to Ming’an Hall.
Yao Huang’s clothes and skirt had been splashed with lake water and brushed against that escaped fish. She could faintly smell a light fishy odor. Yao Huang decided to take her bath before dinner while she had time.
Zhao Sui had her push the wheelchair to the arhat bed by the window in the inner chamber.
The arhat bed and the canopy bed had bed boards of equal height. A woven reed summer mat was spread on it, with a matching small rosewood table placed in the middle, upon which a book lay face down.
Yao Huang had been pushing the wheelchair too intently. Only when Prince Hui looked toward the small table did she react, somewhat embarrassedly grabbing the book and hiding it behind her back.
Zhao Sui asked, “What book?”
Yao Huang stood opposite him with her hands behind her back, answering honestly, “A storybook bought from a bookshop—the kind that’s beneath refined taste. Does the Prince want to rest here? Then I’ll go bathe in the west room first. Shall I have the maids bring you tea in a moment?”
Zhao Sui said, “Not thirsty. Give me the book.”
Yao Huang’s face reddened. “It’s for common folk to read. The Prince had better not look at it. I’ll go to the study and fetch you a classic text instead.”
Zhao Sui said nothing more, only extended his hand toward her.
He was a prince after all, with an imposing presence. Yao Huang hadn’t yet figured out this husband’s temperament and feared he might truly grow angry at her disobedience. She had no choice but to obediently hand over the book, saying awkwardly, “I picked a new storybook randomly. Who knew it would have such improper content written in it? When I encounter such passages, I always skip over them. The Prince must not misunderstand.”
The bookshop’s storybooks were divided into several categories. Some were suitable for people of all ages, while others were specifically placed in one area. The bookshop didn’t erect a sign with explicit warnings, but whenever an unmarried young lady walked over there, the clerks would hint at it. Over time, among female customers, only somewhat older married women would go pick books from that section.
Yao Huang observed the bookshop’s “rules,” but she had secretly flipped through storybooks her mother brought home. She knew they would describe intimate matters between men and women in some detail. Back then, Yao Huang wasn’t interested in such things—after satisfying her curiosity, she stopped reading them.
Now when she went out, she wore a married woman’s hairstyle. Plus, having tasted the pleasures between husband and wife, that day Yao Huang had righteously picked several such books.
Zhao Sui commented indifferently, “Storybooks originate from common folk. Because their content is easy to understand and full of twists and turns, they’ve spread widely. Some crude and vulgar language is normal.”
Yao Huang said, “…Fine, the Prince will understand after reading it.”
She went to the wardrobe to fetch a set of clothes, closed the door from outside, and went to the west inner chamber to wait for water.
Outside, maids came and went. Without the Prince’s summons, not one person dared approach the east inner chamber. Zhao Sui moved to the side of the arhat bed with his back to the setting sun and began flipping through the pages one by one in the quiet.
As a prince who from youth had been accustomed to reading until the third watch of night and rising at cockcrow the next day to continue reading or practicing martial arts, Zhao Sui had read enough books to fill three large rooms. However, among them was not a single folk storybook.
The content was straightforward. He read ten lines at a glance and flipped through quickly. By the time the women from the bathhouse carried water into the west room, Zhao Sui had already read more than half. The storybook’s protagonist “Pan Xuniang” had also changed lovers three times. With each lover there had to be two or three bedroom scenes, courtyard scenes, or even outdoor scenes. The male partners included a farmer who tilled fields, a blacksmith who forged iron, and a constable from the county yamen—each with their own “dragon vigor and tiger ferocity.”
Knowing what the Prince was reading, Yao Huang bathed very uneasily and simply. She thought that if she finished washing early and returned early, perhaps the Prince wouldn’t have reached the first improper passage yet!
Hastily changing clothes, Yao Huang walked out with her long hair wrung out so it no longer dripped water.
Bai Ling chased after her. “Princess Consort, comb your hair first!”
Yao Huang turned back, snatched the comb from Bai Ling’s hand, and continued rushing toward the east room. She absolutely couldn’t let Bai Ling attend to her, otherwise by the time combing was finished, the day lilies would be cold!
Pushing open the door to the inner chamber, Yao Huang looked toward the window and saw the Prince sitting with his back to her, facing outside. Outside the window at an angle was a osmanthus tree covered in the setting sun.
Yao Huang looked again at the small table. The storybook lay there flat and steady.
At this moment, the Prince looked toward the door. His gaze clearly lingered on her loose hair for several moments.
Yao Huang feigned composure. “The maids comb too slowly. I was afraid the Prince would wait too long, so I simply came here to comb it. I can catch the setting sun perfectly here.”
Zhao Sui turned back around.
Yao Huang sat opposite him. The warm yellow setting sun made her cheeks feel toasty. She grasped a handful of hair and combed slowly, while tilting her chin toward the storybook and asking, “The Prince finished reading so quickly?”
Zhao Sui replied, “Not yet. I only read the beginning—the part where Li Dashi died of illness in prison.”
Yao Huang asked, “Then why did the Prince stop reading?” The exciting parts were all later on. Once Li Dashi died, Pan Xuniang became a widow, and the robust farmer who had been her childhood sweetheart came looking for her.
Zhao Sui said, “I was thinking whether such injustices truly exist among common folk.”
Yao Huang: “…”
A prince was indeed a prince! Even reading a storybook, he worried about the common people. Unlike her, who only looked at the improper parts!
Grabbing the storybook and stuffing it under the summer mat, Yao Huang consoled him, “Prince, don’t worry. Storybooks are all made up by writers. His Imperial Majesty your father is brilliant and mighty. The court administration is clear and bright. At least the common people in the capital region are all living well. We haven’t heard of any injustices occurring anywhere.”
Zhao Sui nodded, his gaze falling on her other shoulder that was being dampened by her long hair.
Seeing this, Yao Huang leaned back against the bed enclosure behind her, tilting her head back slightly. Except for the hair she held in her hand, all the rest hung down, no longer touching her clothes.
In this position, her fair neck was completely presented before Zhao Sui. Her crossed-collar jacket was restrained by the chest-high skirt waist, covering the spring scenery within yet unable to conceal the shape of the snowy mounds inside.
There were only two people in the room, and they could only look at each other. Yao Huang immediately noticed the movement of the Prince’s gaze. Her face burning, she scolded lightly, “Where is the Prince looking?”
The lifeless Prince’s face showed no change in color as he pointed to the right side of her bodice. “That spot seems wet.”
Yao Huang touched it—it was just dampened by her hair. “No matter, it’ll dry soon.”
When she raised her head, she found the Prince was already looking at the osmanthus tree outside the window.
Still feeling a bit awkward, Yao Huang moved aside the small table and sat before him with her back turned. “Prince, help me comb it. This way my hair can catch more sunlight too.”
Zhao Sui didn’t answer but took the jade comb from her hand.
Her waterfall of long hair was black as satin, reflecting a layer of pale golden light in the setting sun. A faint osmanthus fragrance filled Zhao Sui’s nostrils. She seemed to have finally found a floral water among those prepared by the Prince’s residence that suited her taste.
Yao Huang watched the shadows of the two of them cast on the yellow pear wood floor. The shadow belonging to the Prince’s head remained motionless—he should be looking at her hair the whole time, behaving properly.
Suddenly, that shadow raised its left hand and pressed on her shoulder.
Both her eyes and shoulder felt this touch simultaneously. Yao Huang didn’t know what was happening but shivered.
Zhao Sui asked, “Are you very nervous?”
Yao Huang’s face grew hot. How could she not be nervous? They were so close, and while bathing she had thought of scene after scene of embarrassing scenarios from the book.
Zhao Sui said, “Are you still remembering that night and afraid I’ll stay over tonight?”
Yao Huang hadn’t been thinking of that at all. She denied it. “No. I—this is the first time in my life being attended to by a prince. Of course I’m nervous.”
Zhao Sui said, “I haven’t forgotten what I promised you. It’s just that I’ve already come over tonight. If I leave right after eating, those below might think you did something wrong and received my cold treatment.”
Yao Huang nodded in agreement.
Zhao Sui continued, “But rest assured, as long as you’re unwilling, I won’t force you.”
Yao Huang lowered her head to look at her hands, saying with a red face, “What is the Prince saying? How could I be unwilling?”
Even if she truly were unwilling, she couldn’t be foolish enough to admit it. Moreover, she was indeed willing—at least during the first time, she hadn’t been unwilling in the slightest.
Zhao Sui continued combing through her hair.
When her hair dried, Yao Huang wanted to call Bai Ling in to help her arrange it into a bun. Zhao Sui said, “Don’t bother. Have the kitchen send dinner to the back courtyard.”
In the kitchen, Master Kong, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, vied to stew a three-pound grass carp for the Prince and Princess Consort, provoking a round of nagging from Gao Niangzi. “We agreed you’d manage the bamboo courtyard and I’d manage Ming’an Hall. Why are you stealing work again!”
Master Kong stared at the sizzling fish in the pot, smiling. “I’m doing this for your own good. If the Prince doesn’t like your fish, will you be able to sleep soundly tonight?”
Gao Niangzi retorted, “Perhaps the Prince is just tired of your cooking and came to the Princess Consort’s side to eat something fresh.”
Master Kong: “…”
He thought of the meat skewers he had specially grilled for the Prince last night. The Prince was so heartless—he hadn’t eaten a single bite, unwilling even to try!
However, Yao Huang praised tonight’s braised fish effusively. The Prince’s residence’s cooks were truly skilled. Not only was the fish meat cooked delicately with delicious soup, but even the small bones had been removed in advance, leaving only the main bone supporting the fish body.
“Prince, eat more. This is what we caught ourselves.” Yao Huang urged while eating. After urging twice, Zhao Sui proactively used his chopsticks.
A Princess Consort with a full figure who liked running and moving about, and a Prince whose legs were disabled but whose upper body remained strong—temporarily abandoning other dishes, they first concentrated on eating the fish and actually finished all the fish meat that could be picked up.
When a junior maid carried the plate with only fish bones remaining back to the kitchen, Master Kong’s eyes reddened and he nearly shed tears. “See, the Prince just loves my cooking!”
Gao Niangzi said leisurely, “Perhaps the Princess Consort ate it all by herself. The Princess Consort has a good appetite—she often finishes all the dishes I make.”
Master Kong: “…”
Having eaten very fully, the Princess Consort slowly walked circles in the back courtyard to aid digestion. The Prince was pushed back to the front courtyard by Qing Ai. He read for two quarter hours, had Physician Liao massage his legs for two quarter hours, and finally bathed and cleansed himself, taking nearly two more quarter hours.
When Qing Ai pushed the Prince back to the back courtyard again, the sky had already darkened.
Yao Huang came out to receive him with her hair loose. After becoming familiar, she had become increasingly relaxed in front of Qing Ai and Fei Quan.
Qing Ai didn’t dare look much and withdrew with lowered head.
Entering the inner chamber, Zhao Sui glanced at the arhat bed by the window and pointed at it.
Yao Huang didn’t understand. “What does the Prince mean?”
Zhao Sui said, “Over here—no need to worry about wetting the bedding.”
Yao Huang: “…”
Her body burning like fire, Yao Huang only felt grateful this person couldn’t see her face. After a long while she finally said, “It’s too narrow, and it’s not hot enough to sleep on a summer mat yet.”
Narrow or not, cool or not—the arhat bed was too close to the window. It wasn’t a proper place for a married couple to sleep. Moreover, if a night-watch maid was bold enough to peer through the crack of the inner chamber door, she wouldn’t be able to see the canopy bed inside but could see the arhat bed clearly.
Yao Huang knew A’Ji and the others weren’t that kind of people, but what if? Especially since A’Ji had always worried about her being bullied by the Prince—she might really want to see what was actually happening.
Thinking this way, Yao Huang directly pushed him toward the canopy bed, saying with steeled resolve, “I had someone sew cloths—one to spread underneath and one to keep beside us. That’s enough.”
Prince Hui, unable to move his legs, could only remain silent.