After sunning themselves, Prince Hui went to the study to read. Yao Huang came to the back courtyard and received Zhang Yue’s brief response from A’Ji: Done.

Yao Huang rubbed Jinbao’s head, in quite a good mood.

In the afternoon, Yao Huang changed into her inner garments and lay on the bed. Just as she was drowsily about to fall asleep, thinking Prince Hui had forgotten last night’s words, Prince Hui came to keep her company for her “afternoon rest.”

The princess consort didn’t come out to greet him—she might already be asleep, or perhaps because summer sleeping garments were thin and not appropriate for appearing before others. Seeing the wicker chair completely enter the east room, Zhao Sui signaled for Fei Quan to withdraw.

Fei Quan maintained a bowed posture and closed the door from outside.

Zhao Sui was just about to push the wicker chair’s large wheels when there was movement from the canopy bed. The princess consort, wearing a set of light blue-green silk garments embroidered with lotus flowers, walked out with downcast eyes and flushed cheeks.

Zhao Sui withdrew his gaze, looking at his own legs.

Last night, in the heat of the moment on impulse, he’d deliberately misinterpreted her meaning and established the new rule of coming to keep her company every day at noon. But it was ultimately broad daylight—acting this way, was the princess consort truly willing? Just yesterday the princess consort had praised him as a gentleman. How could a true gentleman be so greedy for pleasure?

The princess consort drew near and pushed him toward the bed canopy.

After parking the wheelchair properly, the princess consort climbed up herself and lay on her side with her back to him.

Having already reached this position, Zhao Sui couldn’t very well call Fei Quan in to wheel him away. He silently supported himself onto the bed and lay flat with closed eyes.

Actually, keeping the princess consort company six nights a month, only once or twice each night—it wasn’t that hard to endure, was it?

In broad daylight, Yao Huang’s heart thundered for quite a while, yet Prince Hui beside her made no movement at all, as if he’d truly come just to keep her company for a pure afternoon rest.

But Yao Huang wasn’t the naive new bride she’d been when first married—how could she believe that?

Prince Hui was just being reserved. Even if he wanted to, he needed to find a pretext first, or have her speak or make the first move.

Did all princes and sons of noble families act this way, or was it only Prince Hui who was thin-skinned? Or had Prince Hui become this way because his legs were crippled?

If his legs were fine, he wouldn’t need to sleep in separate rooms from her at all, and naturally wouldn’t need to suppress his desires for several days.

She was the one who’d first proposed sleeping together every night. Prince Hui, concerned about the inconveniences of his legs and unable to agree, thought of using the afternoon rest to distribute his passion.

Forget it—distributing it was good for both her and the prince. They were a proper married couple—what was there to be embarrassed about?

Turning over, Yao Huang rolled right into Prince Hui’s arms.

Zhao Sui still kept his eyes closed. He patted the hand the princess consort draped over him and said in a low voice: “Sleep.”

Yao Huang, thinking he couldn’t let go, asked in his ear: “This evening let’s go to the cloth shop and buy a bolt of black silk to make into a canopy and hang it up. Wouldn’t it be just like nighttime then?”

Zhao Sui: “…No need for such unnecessary measures. I came to keep you company for your rest, not necessarily to tire you out.”

Yao Huang smiled: “What is Second Master thinking? I meant that with a black canopy hung up, we could sleep as soundly as at night. What does that have to do with tiring me out?”

Zhao Sui: “…”

Yao Huang: “Besides, if Second Master doesn’t tire me out now, are you planning to arrange things next time so they’ll tire me to death?”

Zhao Sui flipped the princess consort over in one motion.

In the west room by the window on the narrow couch, A’Ji, who’d been lying down for a while, suddenly lifted her head like Jinbao being startled. She looked toward the east room in disbelief—sounds more deliberately suppressed than at night were coming from there.

After her initial shock, A’Ji skillfully pulled out the cotton balls hidden on this side, hugged her quilt and continued sleeping.

After resting through a fake afternoon nap and then a real one, an hour later Prince Hui finally returned to the front courtyard.

When going out to sun themselves at dusk, Yao Huang really did push Prince Hui to the cloth shop on Main Street, smiling as usual as she asked the female vendor for a bolt of black silk.

The female vendor went to fetch the silk. Yao Huang looked down and saw Prince Hui with lowered eyelids—though not deathly pale, he still seemed as if his soul had left his body.

The female vendor came out holding the black silk and casually asked: “What is the young mistress buying black silk for?”

Yao Huang: “To make my husband a black robe.”

The female vendor didn’t understand why a scholar would want to wear black in the height of summer. She simply handed the black silk to Yao Huang and waited for the scholar to settle the account.

Only then did Prince Hui’s soul return. He took out his purse.

That evening Prince Hui stayed in the front courtyard. Having slept so much in the afternoon, Yao Huang was energetic. Before the sky turned completely dark, she sat in the courtyard cutting the black silk and sewing a canopy. This was simple, and since it was something the couple would use in their room, there was no need to be too particular about the needlework.

A’Ji sat beside her, both feeling sorry for the black silk bought with six qian of silver and questioning the princess consort’s taste: “Who uses black canopies?”

Yao Huang said without changing expression: “It’s not that I like black. The windows are too bright at noon and Second Master can’t fall asleep.”

A’Ji, upon hearing this, suddenly understood—Second Master had trouble with afternoon naps. If the person was awake, naturally he would…

The next day Yao Huang didn’t rush to change into sleeping garments. She sat on the bed waiting for Prince Hui to come. Beside her, the black canopy she’d sewn herself was already hung, just waiting for Prince Hui to appreciate it.

However, Yao Huang waited and waited but no one came. Recalling Prince Hui’s expression when buying the black silk yesterday, Yao Huang smiled and went alone to the front courtyard.

The main hall door was closed. Yao Huang peeked through the door crack and saw Fei Quan dozing with his head on the long table.

Yao Huang knocked lightly on the door.

Fei Quan immediately raised his head and tiptoed over to open the door.

Yao Huang glanced at the east room and asked: “Is Second Master asleep?”

Fei Quan said quietly: “He’s been resting for a while. Don’t know if he’s fallen asleep.”

Two quarters of an hour had passed since Physician Liao finished the massage. From the sounds, the prince had also wiped down his legs himself. It was so quiet inside—what else could the prince be doing besides resting?

Yao Huang thought for a moment, had him keep the door open, then went to the back courtyard to take down the black canopy and brought it to the front courtyard.

Telling Fei Quan to wait outside, Yao Huang walked into the east room. Regardless of whether Prince Hui on the bed was truly or falsely asleep, she first gathered the white canopy hanging here to both sides, then turned around the wicker wheelchair placed beside it, secured it, and stepped on the chair seat to hang the black canopy from her arms. After hanging the top, Yao Huang glanced at Prince Hui, who had opened his eyes at some point, jumped down barefoot from the wicker chair, spread out both panels of the black canopy, and standing outside the canopy said with a smile: “I sewed this with my own hands. What does Second Master think?”

Zhao Sui felt that with a layer of black silk between them, the princess consort seemed even whiter.

“Come in.”

Prince Hui said in a low voice.

Yao Huang didn’t move: “Come in for what?”

Prince Hui fell silent.

Yao Huang stepped back onto the wheelchair, taking down what she’d hung just as she’d put it up. Then holding a bundle of black silk, while putting on her shoes she said without raising her eyes: “Second Master said it himself—you’d come keep me company for my rest every day. You made me wait in vain just now, while you’re already resting comfortably. Since that’s the case, Second Master continue your rest. I’ll sleep by myself.”

Finished speaking, the princess consort glared at him once, then strutted away at length.

Zhao Sui was helpless and had no choice but to call Fei Quan in to wheel him to find the princess consort.

Every day keeping the princess consort company to enjoy the meals and tonic soups prepared by Gao Niangzi, persistently sunning themselves for half an hour each morning and afternoon for several consecutive days, on the twenty-sixth even being pushed by the princess consort to wander the market all morning—by the twenty-ninth when their western neighbor Steward Qi was celebrating his birthday, Prince Hui in his wheelchair had successfully shed his former pallor and truly achieved a face like jade.

Yao Huang accompanied Prince Hui every day and didn’t feel the change very distinctly. After breakfast, she deliberately called over Gao Niangzi, who though she’d come to town had almost no opportunity to see Prince Hui’s face, and said with a smile: “Auntie, take a look at our Second Master.”

Gao Niangzi’s heart trembled—was this something she was allowed to look at?

But the princess consort had commanded it, so Gao Niangzi nervously and slowly raised her head, finally looking directly at Prince Hui. She saw the prince holding a book, sitting upright in the wicker chair, as if he hadn’t heard the princess consort’s playful words at all.

The next moment, Gao Niangzi understood why the princess consort wanted her to look at the prince.

Yao Huang saw Gao Niangzi’s face show amazement and joy, confirming that Prince Hui’s complexion had indeed improved—it wasn’t her wishful thinking or misconception.

Considering Prince Hui’s dignity, Yao Huang didn’t tease further. She had A’Ji give Gao Niangzi a pouch of reward silver: “This half month, Auntie, every dish has been delicious. Second Master and I are both very satisfied. We’ll continue to trouble you going forward.”

Gao Niangzi was very clear about her own abilities. Master Kong’s culinary skills were comparable to hers, even somewhat superior. Despite racking his brains, he couldn’t improve the prince’s appetite. She’d only arrived at the prince’s manor a bit earlier than the princess consort—what ability did she have to satisfy the prince? Now that the prince could have an appetite, it was entirely because he had a beautiful and caring princess consort by his side!

After Gao Niangzi left, at the fifth quarter of the hour of the Dragon, Yao Huang pushed Prince Hui out again.

Over at the Qi family, people came and went—all relatives and friends who’d come to help manage the birthday banquet. After half an hour, Yao Huang pushed Prince Hui back and saw that outside the Qi family gate on the river embankment, a stage decorated with lanterns and festoons had been set up. A troupe of about seven or eight people was applying eyebrow paint and face makeup under the neighbors’ observation.

Yao Huang said in surprise: “They even hired a theater troupe?”

Though it was a folk troupe with ordinary or even mediocre singing ability that could be hired for just a few taels of silver to perform for half a day, in such a small town it was already quite respectable and glorious, worthy of being talked about by all the town’s residents for quite a while.

An endless stream of common people was rushing over. The adults were relatively composed, but the children all ran over. No one paid attention to the man in a wheelchair nearby.

Zhao Sui had already grown accustomed to this small town and such lively occasions.

Yao Huang stayed at the edge of the crowd, walking a few steps and stopping a few steps, finally pushing the wheelchair back to the east courtyard.

Once the main gate closed, the crowded throng couldn’t be seen, but the buzzing clamor continuously transmitted inside.

Zhao Sui didn’t much care. He said to the princess consort: “I’ll read for a bit. You go watch the opera. Come get me when they’re about to serve the banquet.”

Yao Huang: “There are too many people. In this heat I’m too lazy to squeeze in. Besides, I can hear it from home anyway.”

Leaving Prince Hui in the study to read, Yao Huang set up a small table with Gao Niangzi and A’Ji at the front of the west courtyard. The three of them cracked melon seeds while listening to the opera.

Approaching noon, the Qi family’s guests gradually arrived. Steward Qi even specially sent a grandson to notify the Liao family members. So everyone tidied up briefly and went out.

Yao Huang and the other two women were led to the Qi family’s back courtyard. Because of his scholar status and that painting, Zhao Sui was honored by Steward Qi as a distinguished guest. Along with him, Physician Liao, his three sons, and his two adopted son apprentices were all invited to the main hall. Seated at the same table were two other people of some standing in this town: Scholar He and his provincial graduate son, He Wenbin.

Zhang Yue and Wang Dong sat in positions next to the He family father and son respectively.

In He Wenbin’s mind, these were two criminal prospects who could kill at any moment. He wanted to rebuke them but was powerless to resist, so he could only sit rigidly.

Scholar He was even more timid than his son, not even daring to move his eyeballs.

This father and son pair were excessively abnormal. Zhao Sui looked toward Fei Quan.

Fei Quan leaned over and explained in a low voice: “On the morning of the twentieth, Madam Zhu loudly chattered and disturbed Second Sister-in-law’s sleep. I had them go over and issue a warning.”

Zhao Sui had an impression of Madam Zhu’s voice—it was indeed very noisy. Zhang Yue and the other’s methods might have been somewhat excessive, but they were understandable given the circumstances.