He Yunqin stared at her, his voice lowering: “Are you hungry, then? I’ll have them send up some supper.”

Hongdou’s heart pounded wildly—perhaps it was only her imagination, but she kept feeling that He Yunqin’s gaze was more direct than usual. She hastily turned her face aside and shook her head: “I’m not hungry.”

At this movement, the two bright jade leaf earrings on her ears swayed unceasingly, their shimmering light flickering unsteadily across her cheeks. Her complexion, already fair and delicate, took on an even more tender, plum-blossom-in-snow charm.

There was no one else in the room but the two of them. It should have been a pleasantly cool autumn night, yet he found the air stiflingly warm and hard to bear. After a long moment, he glanced her over: “You’ve been wearing that heavy wedding gown all day—do you want to take a bath?”

It was actually a good suggestion—Hongdou’s body did feel sticky and uncomfortable, and she’d already been planning to bathe. But hearing it come out of his mouth, it suddenly felt oddly awkward.

He Yunqin had simply spoken to fill the silence, but once he’d said it, far from ignoring him, Hongdou found the air grow even more stiflingly warm. He could only laugh awkwardly: “There’s nothing left to attend to downstairs. If you’re tired, why not bathe and rest early.”

This time even Hongdou could tell that He Yunqin wasn’t nearly as composed as he appeared on the surface. The corner of her mouth couldn’t help curving up. Glancing at him, she saw his brows relaxed, looking more handsome and unmatched than usual, her heart pounding hard as she rose, feigning nonchalance: “All right then.”

Seeing her looking around the room, He Yunqin guessed she didn’t know where the servants had stored her dowry clothes, and went to open the door to let a servant in to attend her.

Once the servant had fetched the clothes, He Yunqin watched Hongdou go into the washroom. Once the door closed, he felt rather at loose ends, wandered around the room a bit, and finally sat down absently on the velvet sofa in the corner.

Before long, Hongdou opened the door and called to him from inside: “He Yunqin.”

Hearing no response, Hongdou looked out—He Yunqin was indeed sitting on the sofa, but his eyes were fixed on the floor, seemingly lost in thought about something.

She could only call again: “He Yunqin.”

He Yunqin looked up, only then coming back to himself: “What is it?”

She said softly: “I don’t know how to work this faucet. No hot water’s coming out no matter how long I wait.”

He froze for a moment, then rose, pushed open the door and went in. Sure enough, she stood by the bathtub, still in her qipao, a stretch of round, snow-white thigh visible now and then through the slit.

Ever since they’d set the wedding date, he had prepared himself for a slow, patient courtship, yet now that everything was actually right before him, it felt almost like torture—he had to exercise the utmost restraint just to keep his eyes from wandering. He grunted an acknowledgment and walked over to turn on the faucet for her.

Hot water gushed out, fine white steam gradually filling the room. He Yunqin stared blankly at the tub, knowing full well that staring a hole through it would do him no good—there was nothing useful for him to do here—yet he couldn’t make his feet move toward the door.

Hongdou waited a good while and still saw no sign of He Yunqin leaving. Her cheeks flushed, and she said with mock annoyance: “I need to bathe.”

He Yunqin asked her, perfectly serious: “Do you know how to use it now? Should I show you again?”

Hongdou glanced at him, and after a good long moment, went along with him: “All right, show me again.”

He Yunqin accordingly turned off the faucet with great ceremony, then turned it back on again right in front of her, before looking at her with dark, glossy eyes: “Understand it now?”

Hongdou turned her face away and hummed in assent: “I understand.”

He Yunqin nodded gravely: “Then I’ll go out.” He shut the door and left.

Hongdou dawdled in the bathroom for quite a while before finally finishing. When she came out, she’d changed into loose red silk pajamas with long sleeves and long pants, her raven-black hair loosely gathered to one side, her skin glowing with a faint dewy pink, her face full and radiant like a ripe peach.

She walked to the bed and hesitated, stopping short—getting into bed in front of He Yunqin still felt somewhat embarrassing—so she said, deliberately: “Aren’t you going to bathe?”

Only then did He Yunqin look up at her. Their eyes met, and he rose from the sofa: “I’ll go bathe, then.”

Once he’d gone into the washroom, Hongdou lifted the covers and climbed into bed. The moment she let down her hair and lay down, her whole body sank into the soft bedding. Staring at the ceiling, her mind wandered in a daze—she’d known He Yunqin for less than two months, and already they were married. Though there had been an element of necessity to it, if it had only been Qin Xuekai proposing to her at the start, she would sooner have fled to Tianjin or Beiping than ever agree to marry him.

Pulling the covers up an inch higher, she lay listening intently to the sounds from the washroom. He finished bathing much faster than she had—in less than ten minutes the door opened and he came out.

She’d meant to close her eyes and pretend to sleep, but it felt too deliberate, so she kept staring at the ceiling instead. She heard him lift the covers and get into bed on the other side, her gaze involuntarily sliding that way, catching only a hazy glimpse of the high, straight bridge of his nose before her face grew unbearably hot. She quickly looked away, her lashes trembling as she closed her eyes.

Once in bed, he seemed to watch her for a moment, and seeing her lie perfectly still, finally turned off the light and lay down.

The room fell silent, with only the occasional sound of insects chirping in the autumn night drifting in from the terrace. Their breathing sounded close, and listening carefully, his was not much steadier than hers.

In the darkness, the slightest movement from him sent her heart into a violent lurch—not from aversion or resistance, only that she wasn’t ready yet.

Fortunately, He Yunqin lay quietly for a while, and as if sensing her unease, did not move closer, only saying: “Hongdou.”

Hongdou turned her face slightly: “Mm.”

“Tomorrow there’s nothing to do—I’ll take you around the house.”

Feeling his thoughtfulness, warmth rose in Hongdou’s heart, and she answered: “All right.”

She wasn’t sure how much time passed before Hongdou fell asleep. Though there was someone lying beside her, she felt an inexplicable sense of trust toward him, and slept just as soundly as she would have at her own family’s home.

At dawn she woke, overheated—it felt as though there were a furnace behind her, warmth wrapping around her whole body from behind. At first she was still hazy with sleep, but upon noticing warm breath at the back of her neck, she realized He Yunqin had pulled her into his embrace.

Her body stiffened, uncertain and alarmed—but the next moment she discovered he wasn’t actually awake; he’d simply, for some reason, wrapped himself around her—one arm circling her waist, the other pillowed beneath her head. Judging by the steady breathing at the back of her neck, he was still deeply asleep.

She had always known she was a restless sleeper, but this situation was too strange—rack her brains as she might, she couldn’t figure out how the two of them had ended up tangled together like this. She had no idea how long she’d been resting against him; her arm must have gone numb long ago, but since he hadn’t woken, she didn’t dare move either. His breathing tickled her unbearably with every exhale against her neck, leaving her limp all over as if half her body’s strength had drained away.

Before long she softened completely, simply lying still and letting him hold her. But not long after, he seemed to stir, his breath suddenly shifting from the back of her neck up to the top of her head—it seemed he had woken. She quickly shut her eyes tight, continuing to feign sleep.

She could sense him freeze for a moment, then give a start, hesitate for a good while, and finally, reluctantly, withdraw the arm circling her waist, carefully cradling her head as he gently pulled the other arm out from beneath it as well.

Then the bedding shifted behind her—he seemed to roll over entirely, ending up flat on his back.

She couldn’t help letting out a quiet breath of relief, yet also felt a faint sense of loss she couldn’t quite explain, her heart pounding so loudly she feared he might discover she’d actually been awake the whole time, and didn’t dare move at all.

He Yunqin lay stiffly for a while, some part of him deeply uncomfortable, sorely tempted to simply act on his desires—lying there any longer felt like torment. Seeing dawn breaking, he simply got up and went to take a cold shower in the washroom.

Once he’d risen, Hongdou could no longer keep up the pretense of sleep either. By the time he came out, she had just sat up, pulling the covers with her. Their eyes met, and He Yunqin paused: “You’re awake.”

Hongdou’s face burned, but she nodded with feigned composure: “I’m awake.”

She lifted the covers and got out of bed, brushing past him on her way to wash up.

He stood by the door without moving, only frowning as he asked: “Do you know how to use this faucet?”

She looked at the golden basin—she truly had never seen anything like it before—but seeing him ask so gravely, she still felt like laughing, and merely shook her head: “I don’t know how.”

So he composed his expression and ran the water for her, then fetched her tooth powder as well. She watched him quietly as he busied himself, and only once she’d properly begun washing up did he leave.

When she came out of the washroom, she found the clothes she was to wear that day already neatly folded by the bedside, fetched by the servants.

He had changed his shirt, and sat on the sofa with a book, waiting for her. Morning light streamed through the glass, wrapping him entirely in a golden glow.

Her mood lifted inexplicably. Once dressed, she sat at the vanity and picked up a comb to do her hair.

He glanced at her, then rose and came over, taking the blue velvet jewelry box from the drawer, looking at her: “See if you like it.”

Hongdou put on the expression of someone seeing the box for the first time, hiding her heart full of sweetness as she solemnly accepted it. The moment she opened it, though she’d already seen it the night before, thinking of the note inside, she still broke into a genuinely sweet smile: “I love it.”

He Yunqin had been watching every subtle change on her face without blinking, and seeing her so pleased, his spirits lifted greatly: “It matches what you’re wearing perfectly. You can put it on right now.”

Hongdou didn’t stand on ceremony, taking out the necklace and looping it around her neck, fumbling with it for a moment before saying, since he only stood watching: “Well, help me, then.”

Only then did He Yunqin come back to himself, fastening the necklace for her. Just as she’d finished adorning herself, a servant spoke from outside: “Second Young Master, Second Young Mistress, the Master and Mistress are waiting downstairs for you to join them for breakfast.”

Now that they were married, the forms of address naturally had to change. The two of them looked at each other in the mirror, and He Yunqin pulled her up: “Let’s go.”

He took her hand as a matter of course, pulling her along as they left the room.

In the dining hall, He Mengmei, Mrs. He, and the others were already seated, quiet and unspeaking, yet an air of harmonious, understated joy hung in the room.

Seeing He Yunqin and Hongdou emerge together as a matched pair, He Lanzhi was the first to laugh: “Little Brother really does have good taste—the necklace is lovely, but the person is even lovelier.”