Yao Huang’s elm wood wheelchair was not only shabby compared to Prince Hui’s purple sandalwood wheelchair, it was actually even shorter. When she sat in it and looked at Prince Hui, the various disparities actually made Yao Huang think of the story of the ugly woman trying to imitate a beauty.
She patted the armrests and instructed Fei Quan, “Let’s walk faster.”
Fei Quan didn’t dare move at all. Mustering all his courage to look toward Prince Hui—what if the Prince thought the Princess Consort was deliberately mocking him? Not only could Fei Quan not push, he’d have to hurry and persuade the Princess Consort to get down.
Zhao Sui said, “…Let’s go.”
With his emotions fluctuating wildly, Fei Quan suddenly exerted force with both arms, and the elm wood wheelchair slid forward a great distance.
Fei Quan thought, “…” What a light wheelchair!
One small and one large wheelchair turned out of the bamboo grove one after the other.
Yao Huang couldn’t see behind her, but Qing Ai could see Fei Quan’s relaxed steps and the Princess Consort’s sleeves and hem showing from the wheelchair. Even the sound of the small wheelchair’s four wheels rolling on the stone path carried a kind of lightheartedness, like a young colt that had just grown up, carefree as it walked ahead of an old horse plodding forward under a heavy load.
Qing Ai didn’t know what the Prince was thinking, but he felt that if he, Qing Ai, really were an old horse, being able to see such a spirited young colt would make him comfortable too. Just like how he’d been pushing the Prince’s purple sandalwood grand wheelchair for most of the past six months, yet at this moment pushing it felt the easiest it had ever been, as if he too had been inspired with more energy by the young colt ahead.
Arriving at Mingan Hall, Zhao Sui stayed directly in the front courtyard while Yao Huang first went to the back to wash her hands and face before coming to accompany him for dinner.
The Yao family didn’t have rules about not speaking during meals. Yao Huang wasn’t accustomed to sitting together without talking either—it made it seem like neither person wanted to acknowledge the other.
“Does Your Highness really not mind that the wooden chair seat is too hard?”
Yao Huang asked while serving dishes to Prince Hui.
Zhao Sui understood. “You found that wheelchair uncomfortable to sit in?”
Yao Huang said, “It was fine when I first sat down, but after sitting for a while it felt hard. If Your Highness is also uncomfortable, I’ll weave a rush cushion for you to use only within the manor.”
Zhao Sui asked, “You know how to weave?”
Yao Huang replied, “Yes, I learned from my maternal grandmother. In previous years, the summer rush cushions our family used were all made by ourselves. Buying one outside costs ten wen, and they’re not even as good as the ones we weave ourselves. How about this—I’ll weave one first, and after it’s done Your Highness can try it?”
After a while, Zhao Sui said, “Alright. Weave it in the bamboo grove—I’ll watch your technique.”
Yao Huang said, “Good. Once I’ve prepared the rush grass, I’ll come find you there.”
After the meal, the two bathed separately. By the time Yao Huang had changed into her nightgown, dried her hair, and leaned against the headboard reading a few pages of a proper story book, Prince Hui finally arrived fashionably late.
Yao Huang sat inside the canopied step-up bed. Seeing Qing Ai stop the wheelchair beside the luohan bed and leave, only then did Yao Huang put down her book.
Zhao Sui was looking at the ivory mat and gold ingots on the luohan bed. Hearing footsteps, he casually glanced over, and his gaze was immediately stuck on the Princess Consort’s brand new nightgown he’d never seen before. Looking up and down once, his eyes finally settled on the chest-high upper skirt edge of the nightgown. It looked very similar to the waist of the chest-high long skirts worn outside, but wasn’t cinched tight. The smooth, delicate gauze naturally conformed to the Princess Consort’s fair skin.
The entire nightgown was made of gauze—thin, breathable, and like a curtain, making what was inside dimly visible.
Seeing him staring straight at her, Yao Huang felt rather embarrassed. She had never worn such clothing at her parents’ home. Who could blame them for being poor? Now that the embroidery room had delivered such a cool nightgown into her hands, not using it would be wasteful.
Whether she wore it sooner or later, she’d have to go through this. Of course Yao Huang wanted to enjoy it early. The only thing she hadn’t anticipated was that Prince Hui would be so undisguised about it.
Yao Huang stopped walking, looked at him, and asked while suppressing her shyness, “Why hasn’t Your Highness changed into summer underclothes?”
Zhao Sui said, “I have changed.”
In winter, underclothes were made of cotton; in spring and autumn, of silk; in summer, of damask.
Yao Huang made an “ah” sound, quickly walked to the wheelchair, pinched his collar and felt it, saying puzzledly, “This is damask, right? Didn’t the embroidery room make you any gauze ones?”
Zhao Sui looked straight ahead and explained, “They made some in earlier years. I’m not used to wearing them.”
Gauze was too transparent. He had no inclination to expose too much of his body before Qing Ai and Fei Quan.
Perhaps his gaze hinted too obviously, because Yao Huang instantly comprehended Prince Hui’s meaning. So even the noble Prince minded this fabric’s transparency and would rather forgo comfort—yet she, a newly wealthy person who was still an unmarried girl, dared to swagger about wearing it!
Yao Huang covered her chest and was about to run change into a set of damask underclothes.
But Prince Hui tightly gripped her wrist, forcibly pulling her onto his spacious purple sandalwood grand wheelchair.
Yao Huang burrowed embarrassedly into his shoulder. “I thought you imperial family people all dressed like this!”
Zhao Sui said, “I just don’t wear it. There must be others who like wearing it.”
Yao Huang said, “I don’t care about others. I’m your Princess Consort. If you don’t wear it, I won’t wear it either. And you shouldn’t look. I’m going to change back.”
She still wanted to run, but Zhao Sui directly lifted her up, forcing Yao Huang to sit on him.
Yao Huang raised her head in alarm.
Zhao Sui pressed her back to lean against the wheelchair. Frightened, Yao Huang hurriedly braced one hand on his shoulder and one hand on the wheelchair’s armrest nearby to avoid colliding with His Highness Prince Hui in front of her.
However, rather than having her press against him, Prince Hui took the initiative to lean forward.
Yao Huang looked down and finally understood Prince Hui’s meaning. She said in embarrassed annoyance, “I still have things to tell you!”
“No rush.”
The wheelchair Master Deng had painstakingly crafted could support His Highness Prince Hui’s lower back better than the luohan bed’s enclosure and bolster combined. The thick, wide chair back also served to conceal them. Even if Chun Yan, who was keeping watch tonight, pressed close to the gap in the inner chamber door, she wouldn’t be able to see the slightest bit of Prince Hui—at most seeing the Princess Consort’s face as she knelt facing the chair back, occasionally a bit more of her shoulders.
Prince Hui’s passion arose urgently, making things difficult only for Yao Huang. Trapped in the wheelchair, she had nowhere to hide and could only stare fixedly at the door crack facing her a few steps away, firmly covering her mouth while simultaneously preparing to immediately drive away anyone who approached if she detected them.
When Qing Ai left, he hadn’t secured the wheelchair because he knew the Princess Consort would soon push the Prince to the bedside.
This heavy wheelchair that required Yao Huang to exert some effort to push, this purple sandalwood grand wheelchair that by rights the Prince’s arm strength alone could never move independently, was now, without anyone pushing it, actually exhibiting slight movement.
The people in the wheelchair didn’t notice. Chun Yan, who had closed the main hall door and lifted the curtain to step into the side room, suddenly heard some sounds.
She looked incredulously toward the inner chamber door.
The distance was far enough, the door crack narrow, and there was also a layer of thin silk curtain hanging outside the door. Chun Yan couldn’t see anything, but she knew the Prince and Princess Consort were right by the door.
Chun Yan quietly retreated.
Inside, Prince Hui sat up straight, held his Princess Consort tightly, brushed aside the hair she’d flung to her cheek that had been dampened by tears, and asked into her ear, “Thrilling?”
Yao Huang said, “…”
Yao Huang really wanted to throw a tantrum—keep a stern face and just clean up by herself, leaving the bad husband who deliberately bullied her alone in the wheelchair where he couldn’t go anywhere. See if he’d dare ask her again if it was thrilling.
But the husband who had just pulled up his underpants immediately changed back—back into that His Highness Prince Hui who, just by sitting expressionlessly in the wheelchair and glancing over, inspired awe.
Whether revering his princely status or unable to bear leaving her disabled husband behind, ultimately Yao Huang, under his silent gaze, haphazardly wrapped herself in that nightgown that could no longer be worn, walked to the wardrobe, pulled out a set of underclothes and hid behind the step-up bed to put them on, grabbed a comb to casually tidy her disheveled long hair, then came back out to push him to the bedside and called Chun Yan to prepare water.
Chun Yan was both surprised and delighted. Tonight the Prince and Princess Consort had already finished “their business” so quickly? Finishing quickly was good—she could also go to sleep earlier.
The water arrived. Yao Huang wrung out a cloth and handed it to Prince Hui. Just as she turned to leave, Prince Hui gave an instruction he’d never given before: “After washing, wipe down the wheelchair too.”
Yao Huang’s body stiffened.
Zhao Sui lowered his voice. “Or call a maidservant from outside to come in…”
Yao Huang finally couldn’t hold back and turned to glare at him.
Zhao Sui lowered his eyes to remove his underclothes. Hearing her footsteps walk away in a huff, only then did he look toward the purple sandalwood wheelchair by the bed.
When Yao Huang came out, His Highness Prince Hui had long since changed into fresh underclothes and was nonchalantly leaning against the headboard flipping through her story book.
Yao Huang placed the water bucket beside the wheelchair, snatched away the book from Prince Hui’s hand and tossed it onto the dressing table. Without looking at his expression, she dampened a cloth and looked at the wheelchair seat that could accommodate two people sitting side by side.
As she looked, Yao Huang smiled. She handed the no-longer-dripping cloth to the Prince at the headboard. “You made this mess, and they’re all your things. You clean it.”
His legs couldn’t move but couldn’t his hands? The wheelchair was right by the bed. With Prince Hui’s arm strength, bracing himself on the bed with one hand while wiping the chair seat with the other was completely doable.
Zhao Sui said, “…”
Yao Huang’s face was fierce, but actually she was watching this person closely. Once Prince Hui showed any sign of changing expression, Yao Huang would immediately withdraw and obediently do the work.
One breath, two breaths—just as Yao Huang prepared to yield, Prince Hui took the cloth from her hand, shifted to the edge of the bed, and bent down to wipe the wheelchair.
Yao Huang’s heart pounded violently. Looking at herself standing there like a supervisor, then looking at Prince Hui sitting there with downcast eyes in a rather submissive posture, Yao Huang actually panicked. “I, I was just saying it casually. Your Highness, quickly put it down—let me do it.”
She tried to snatch the cloth, but Zhao Sui avoided her. Glancing at the luohan bed, he continued wiping while asking, “Why are they all piled outside?”
Since he insisted on doing the work, Yao Huang had no choice but to dampen another cloth to wipe the armrest positions he couldn’t reach. Although nothing had gotten on these spots, her sweaty hands had gripped them.
“For no reason, why is Your Highness giving me so many gold ingots?” Yao Huang said quietly. “I do like them, but I always feel undeserving.”
Zhao Sui said, “They’re useless to me keeping them.”
Yao Huang replied, “I can’t use them either. The Princess Consort’s monthly allowance is enough for me each month.”
Zhao Sui said, “Then put them away and use them when you need to.”
Yao Huang said, “…Alright then. I’ll keep them at my place first. Whenever Your Highness needs them, just come take them.”
Prince Hui made no sound. Yao Huang sneaked a glance and caught a trace of a smile at Prince Hui’s lips that disappeared instantly.
Yao Huang hummed. “And what about the ivory mat? Has Your Highness used one before?”
Zhao Sui told her about the ivory mat’s rarity. “After Father Emperor ascended the throne, he only obtained three total—one was presented to the Empress Dowager… From what Father Emperor said today, he seems to have obtained two new ones. One was bestowed on you, and the other he probably kept for himself.”
Yao Huang was so shocked she forgot to work. “Just five? Good heavens, no wonder the Consort and Princess Imperial glared at me!”
Zhao Sui finished wiping, placed the cloth in the bucket and swished it around, fished it out and wrung it dry with one hand, then wiped a second time.
There was other water in the room. Yao Huang wiped a third time before they finally finished.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, Yao Huang offered modestly, “Such a fine treasure should be used by Your Highness. I think Father Emperor originally intended to bestow it on you.”
Zhao Sui said, “The Bamboo Courtyard is already cool enough. Laying this on top would easily cause one to catch cold.”
Yao Huang lowered her head, nearly unable to hide her smile.