With the slightly more effortless rattan wheelchair to push, Zhao Sui changed to using the wheelchair when moving about the three rooms of the bamboo courtyard. The speed wasn’t faster than supporting himself along the railings, but it was more dignified than that clumsy, stiff posture, and he could also be more calm and composed.

The protective railings would remain. Zhao Sui would still persist in supporting himself around the back courtyard several circuits daily. Firstly, always sitting wasn’t comfortable. Secondly, he liked standing, even if relying entirely on both arms for support.

Previously after massage, Zhao Sui would go to the study to read or go to the back courtyard to view scenery. This morning, after wiping his legs and putting on trousers, Zhao Sui looked toward the high window on the south side propped open by Qing Ai, gazing at the patch of clear sky visible outside the window. He looked for half the morning.

The princess consort had been married over for forty days now. Zhao Sui had basically figured out her temperament—lively, active, acting on her nature, yet not lacking proper cleverness and caution.

What sort of place was the palace? Full of heavy rules. She had studied for a month at the Chuxiu Pavilion and could make the move of repeatedly stealing glances at him before the emperor and empress. This was neither her rashly forgetting the rules nor her truly being dazzled by his appearance, but rather her knowing that her beauty would likely be difficult to pass over while her lowly family background couldn’t catch the eyes of Consort Xian or Consort Rou. She simply worked on him, this disabled prince who could choose his own primary consort.

He truly wasn’t ugly, and she had obtained the freedom and dignity only a prince’s primary consort could have, so she seemed very satisfied. She also put her heart into treating him—the intimacy and care were all genuine feelings.

Only, she had grown up on Longevity Lane and wasn’t accustomed to the tedious dullness within the high walls of great houses and prince’s mansions. She liked going shopping and horseback riding, liked going to wine shops and teahouses. In summer she wanted to escape the heat at Spirit Mountain; in spring she might want to go to the outskirts to admire flowers and fly kites; in autumn to climb high and gaze far; in winter to walk through snow seeking plum blossoms.

Her husband was a prince, so she needn’t consider expenses for clothing, food, housing, and travel. In her eyes, as long as there was enough silver, going anywhere was fine.

But her husband was a disabled prince who required her reverence and care. Thus she couldn’t abandon him alone to go make merry. Best to bring him along to fulfill both propriety and reputation.

Zhao Sui thought, if there had been no selection process, she probably would rather marry a normal husband of similar family background who could accompany her playing everywhere, rather than choosing a disabled prince husband, even if the latter could bring her glory and wealth.

The princess consort loved money but wasn’t greedy for it. At home, her parents doted on her, and she was beautiful enough—marrying a young talent with his own official post and salary would be effortless. Her days would be good no matter what.

Pushing the wheelchair, Zhao Sui moved bit by bit to the study.

Buddhist sutras were obscure and difficult to understand. Prince Hui hadn’t turned a page in a very long time.

“My prince, the princess consort seeks an audience.”

Fei Quan’s announcement sounded under the corridor eaves. Zhao Sui tilted his head slightly, paused for a moment, then said: “Come in.”

After Fei Quan pushed open the south door of the main hall and entered, then closed it again, he came to the study. Fei Quan bowed at the waist. Because there was only one small green grape, Fei Quan could only abandon the rule of presenting things to his master with both hands. Holding up that grape with one hand, he relayed the princess consort’s meaning: “The princess consort asked this servant to first deliver this to the prince, then ask whether you still want to eat buns. The princess consort just personally went to the vegetable garden and picked a basket of baby bok choy. She is currently waiting outside the courtyard.”

Zhao Sui: “…”

Yesterday’s various events surfaced in his mind one by one. Zhao Sui couldn’t guess why she wanted to send this grape. Was she annoyed at his teasing then and wanted him to also eat a sour fruit in retaliation, or was she afraid he was angry about the Spirit Mountain Town matter and hoped he would think more of her good points?

For the former, the princess consort did have that kind of boldness. For the latter, she was indeed quite afraid of provoking his anger.

“Take the princess consort to the kitchen on this side. Imperial Chef Kong needn’t come over at noon.”

“Yes.”

Outside the bamboo courtyard, Yao Huang said in surprise: “The prince wants me to steam buns on this side?”

Fei Quan smiled: “Yes! This side has rice, flour, oil, and vegetables. When the princess consort finishes making them, they can be served to the prince immediately. Otherwise, they’d have to be sent back and forth.”

That was indeed more convenient to make them at the bamboo courtyard. Yao Huang carried the basket inside. Seeing the main hall door tightly closed with the prince not showing his face, Yao Huang lowered her voice and asked: “What about that grape?”

Fei Quan said softly: “The prince had this servant place it on the desk.”

Yao Huang thought to herself, accepting the grape and wanting to eat her buns—should count as having calmed down?

The first step of steaming buns was leavening the dough. The Mingan Hall side had already leavened it. Yao Huang had Fei Quan go fetch the dough, while she first familiarized herself with the kitchen that Imperial Chef Kong had tidied spotlessly. Turning her head to ask Qing Ai guarding the doorway: “Why isn’t there meat prepared?”

Qing Ai: “We have few people on this side. Fearing things would become stale after sitting too long, Imperial Chef Kong brings the freshest meat over each time. If the princess consort needs to use it, shall this servant go get some?”

Yao Huang: “Go ahead. If I’d known earlier, I would have had Fei Quan fetch the dough later—could have brought it from Mingan Hall together.”

Qing Ai: “No problem. This servant’s legs are quick too. Princess consort, please wait a moment.”

Finished speaking, Qing Ai went to greet the prince under the study eaves. After receiving permission, he hurried off.

Yao Huang scooped out a basin of water from the vat and sat on a small stool. First she twisted off the roots of the baby bok choy, then placed the remaining leaves in the basin to soak. After washing them once, she poured the water into the bucket specially for vegetable washing water, scooped more water to wash a second time. After draining the leaves, she had just prepared to mince the filling when suddenly came intermittent wheelchair rolling sounds from outside.

Yao Huang walked two steps toward the outside and peeked out. It was actually Prince Hui coming out from inside the house, already three or four steps away from the half-closed main hall door behind him.

He sat in that rattan wheelchair.

Their gazes met. Prince Hui’s hands gripped the large wheels on both sides, preparing to exert force.

Yao Huang’s heart skipped. Shaking the water off her hands, she ran outside: “Prince, don’t move! I’ll do it!”

The courtyard was paved with stone slabs. No matter how cleanly swept, there was still dust and grit. How could she let the prince’s precious hands get dirty or hurt?

She ran quickly. Zhao Sui released his hands. Once the princess consort stood behind him, he said: “I came to see how you do it.”

Yao Huang: “But the prince could have called me! It’s just the two of us here. If you called out from inside, I’d definitely hear.”

Zhao Sui fell silent.

Yao Huang pushed him into the kitchen, selected the most spacious and bright spot by the window to stop the wheelchair, then took a cloth from the rack hung with a row of clean cloths, dampened it, and walked over: “Let me help the prince wipe his hands.”

Zhao Sui: “I’ll do it myself. You go about your business.”

Yao Huang, seeing he truly didn’t need her service, walked back to the cutting board and began chopping the filling with a clatter.

Thinking she couldn’t just leave the prince sitting there, Yao Huang chopped the filling with one hand while turning to look over, explaining: “Some families like to blanch the baby bok choy first. Our family never blanches because this way the flavor is fresher.”

Zhao Sui nodded, avoiding her gaze.

Yao Huang: “The prince has never been in a kitchen before, right?”

Zhao Sui: “Correct.”

Yao Huang followed his line of sight, facing the neat and orderly cupboard racks on the north side: “Even the bamboo courtyard’s kitchen is so spacious—as big as my maiden chamber at my parents’ home plus one main hall.”

Zhao Sui glanced several times at the sharp cleaver in her hand: “Focus on cutting vegetables.”

Yao Huang couldn’t be happier not to have to find things to say to keep him company!

After cutting the vegetable filling, Fei Quan returned first, holding a dough basin in his arms. After entering and seeing the prince sitting inside, Fei Quan instinctively put away his smile and properly set down the basin before withdrawing outside.

The kitchen had a place specially for kneading dough. Yao Huang, finding standing tiring, set down a low table in front of Prince Hui, then moved the dough board over. She sat on a small stool demonstrating to Prince Hui her skill at kneading dough, cutting dough pieces, and rolling bun wrappers. Remembering old matters, Yao Huang laughed to herself: “Back then my mother still thought I was lazy, saying I only knew how to steam buns. If I married and encountered a difficult mother-in-law, the mother-in-law could seize on this shortcoming. Who knew my fate would be good—I married the prince and have a whole kitchen of servants attending to me!”

Zhao Sui only watched her.

Yao Huang was used to it. When she thought of interesting things, she’d say them. When there was nothing to say, she’d hum little tunes for Prince Hui.

Zhao Sui: “…Why is there so much dough?”

Yao Huang: “Buns are troublesome to make. Since I’m already at it, I might as well make more. Coincidentally, Imperial Chef Kong isn’t coming, so Fei Quan and Qing Ai are counting on my buns for lunch too.”

Qing Ai returned carrying two filling basins. One basin held pork belly filling that Head Chef Kong had temporarily wielded his dual cleavers to rapidly mince, and one basin held fresh pork belly chilled in ice water, looking to be twenty percent fat, eighty percent lean. If the princess consort wanted to do everything herself, she could chop it again. If the princess consort wanted to save effort, she could use the ready-made filling.

Yao Huang was simply craving buns and didn’t have that much of a hands-on itch. She directly used what Head Chef Kong had chopped.

After pinching together one bun, Yao Huang shamefacedly set it aside: “My hands are clumsy. The pleats aren’t as pretty as my mother’s. I hope the prince won’t mind.”

Zhao Sui looked at her palms and backs of hands covered in white flour and didn’t mind at all.

With abundant dough and ample filling, Yao Huang pinched together a total of ten baby bok choy mixed with meat filling buns, and nine pure meat filling buns. After counting and calculating, she said with satisfaction: “That’s enough!”

The buns were placed in the steamer. Yao Huang pushed Prince Hui out of the kitchen: “Burning firewood creates big smoke. Prince, go wait inside.”

Zhao Sui didn’t go back inside. He had Qing Ai and Fei Quan move the stone table and stools from outside the main gate to level ground inside the bamboo grove, and he went ahead to wait there.

The dense green bamboo grove blocked the blazing sun. Though there was no wind, the grove interior was exceptionally cool.

When Yao Huang came out carrying a tray, what she saw was Prince Hui sitting quietly in the grove. The bamboo tips’ thin leaves would still gently sway with imperceptible breezes, yet Prince Hui was so still he resembled a fake person carved from white jade.

Yao Huang again had the mistaken impression that her husband was a male demon from deep mountains. Yet she knew in her heart that Prince Hui had completely become this way because of his leg ailment.

On the tray were one plate, two bowls, and two pairs of chopsticks. Each bowl held two buns, one meat and one vegetable. Four more were arranged on the plate.

Setting down the tray, Yao Huang sat across from Prince Hui. While passing him chopsticks, she said: “Prince, try them quickly. Buns fresh from the steamer are the most fragrant.”

From start to finish, she hadn’t mentioned last night even once, as if she had never yearned to escape the heat at Spirit Mountain Town, nor suffered any coldness from him.

Zhao Sui: “If you travel in plain clothes to Spirit Mountain, you cannot stay at post stations along the way.”

The bun Yao Huang had just picked up immediately fell back into her bowl. She said tensely: “Why is the prince bringing this up again? I already said I don’t really want to go that much.”

Zhao Sui: “I don’t like staying at inns and don’t want to lodge at commoners’ homes. Camp in the wilderness—what do you think?”

Yao Huang stared blankly and put down her chopsticks: “Prince, the prince is prepared to accompany me to Spirit Mountain Town?”

Prince Hui nodded indifferently, as if this were merely an ordinary decision.

But Yao Huang, having received the affirmative reply, suddenly jumped up, staring at the prince across from her and asking: “Is the prince serious? You’re not tricking me?”

Zhao Sui: “Serious, but camping isn’t as simple as you think…”

Before he finished speaking, the princess consort across from him suddenly ran over, stood beside the wheelchair and bent down, cupped his head and kissed his left cheek once, his right cheek once—each time producing a clear smacking sound. Finally, she turned his wheelchair and sat leaning in his embrace, hugging his neck: “The prince treats me so well! You must be the very, very best husband in all the capital!”

Zhao Sui: “…It’s just escaping the heat. Let’s eat.”