Cheng Chi smiled and asked Zhou Shaojin, “Is it beautiful?”
“Beautiful!” Zhou Shaojin nodded eagerly, unable to resist squatting down to touch the frost flowers beneath her feet.
Her warm fingers suddenly encountered the icy frost and nearly stuck to it.
“These are real frost flowers!” Zhou Shaojin was utterly astonished. “But it hasn’t even snowed… Even if it had, don’t frost flowers form on glass windows?”
And they didn’t always crystallize into such beautiful patterns.
Cheng Chi laughed softly, pulling Zhou Shaojin to her feet and smoothly embracing her as he explained, “I discovered this stone years ago when I traveled to the Tianshan Mountains. Under moonlight, it displays patterns like frost flowers forming on ice. Later, I wanted you to see it too, so I had someone bring this stone back. The journey was quite distant, and it only arrived after I took up my post in Jining…”
So she hadn’t had the opportunity to see it before.
Perhaps because she now shared an even more intimate relationship with Cheng Chi, Zhou Shaojin very naturally wrapped her arms around his waist, nestled against him, rubbed her face against the chestnut-colored sable fur trimming his collar, and asked softly with a smile, “It’s truly beautiful! So during the day it’s just an ordinary large bluestone?”
Cheng Chi nodded and smiled, “During the day, you can’t tell at all. That time I went to Tianshan, it was actually because I got lost.”
“What were you doing at Tianshan?” Zhou Shaojin asked curiously.
“Gathering Tianshan snow lotus,” Cheng Chi smiled. “I had just completed my apprenticeship then, and felt that the world was so vast there was nowhere I couldn’t go. I happened to read in a book about how Tianshan snow lotus grew on cliff faces, with petals like snow and frost, crystal clear and translucent—a sacred flower that could preserve a woman’s beauty forever. But when I saw it in the medicine shop, it was just a withered chrysanthemum. The shopkeeper told me that was what dried Tianshan snow lotus looked like, so I decided to go see for myself.”
Zhou Shaojin smiled with pursed lips.
The young Cheng Chi must have been quite mischievous.
She asked, “So did you end up gathering the Tianshan snow lotus?”
“I did,” Cheng Chi laughed heartily. “Turns out it was just something like a chrysanthemum after all. People greatly exaggerate. Later I went to Changbai Mountain to gather lingzhi mushrooms, which were just things like wood ear fungus. After that, I rarely did such things anymore.”
“Was it because people exaggerate so much?” Zhou Shaojin looked up at Cheng Chi, her eyes shining like stars.
“Mm!” Cheng Chi felt as if he was awakening within those stars, murmuring, “Later I realized that some things you really must see with your own eyes. Only after experiencing them yourself do you truly know…” His lips gently descended upon her eyelids.
Zhou Shaojin closed her eyes.
The howling wind, the cold air, the rustling sound of swaying branches… all disappeared. All she could feel was Cheng Chi’s burning lips and warm embrace.
They were truly together now!
They could embrace each other so properly and openly.
She could be in his arms so legitimately and honorably.
Only now did Zhou Shaojin feel the reality of it all.
Tears quietly slid from the corners of her eyes.
Cheng Chi was startled and quickly asked, “What’s wrong?” He released his arms, wanting to see her expression.
But Zhou Shaojin buried her face in his chest, refusing to let him see no matter what, and said in a muffled voice, “I… I’m very happy… We’ll be together for a lifetime, won’t we?”
People were just this greedy.
She had originally only wanted to quietly think of him, then later just wanted to watch him from afar, but now she wanted to possess him for her entire life.
So that was it!
Cheng Chi chuckled and said, “Of course! We’ll definitely be together for a lifetime.”
Zhou Shaojin nodded in his embrace.
In her previous life, she had only lived to twenty-five.
If in this life she could live to eighty and remain by Cheng Chi’s side the whole time, how wonderful would that be?
With this thought in mind, when Cheng Chi removed her inner garment that evening and held her in his arms with only her undergarment on, though she felt very shy and her body still ached somewhat, she still obediently closed her eyes.
Something cool encircled her arm.
She couldn’t help but open her eyes.
It was an arm bracelet as green as rippling water.
Thinner than ordinary arm bracelets, at first glance it looked like a flat bangle.
Perhaps because her arms were slender?
If she grew plumper later, it could still be worn as a wrist bracelet.
“It’s truly beautiful!” Zhou Shaojin praised. “Is this for me?”
Cheng Chi nodded.
Back then he had tossed this bracelet aside, but when he turned around, some inexplicable force made him search it out again and instruct Langyue to store it in the treasury.
Good thing he hadn’t discarded it.
It suited her perfectly.
Cheng Chi couldn’t help but say, “Let me see.”
Though the room was warm as spring, and the bed curtains hanging on the lacquered bed made it even warmer inside, wearing only an undergarment was still somewhat cold.
But Zhou Shaojin still obediently crawled out from under the covers, her face flushed with rosy color, half-lowering her eyelids as she knelt there allowing Cheng Chi to admire her.
The bright red undergarment, snow-white skin, raven-black hair, and that touch of green on her arm composed the most beautiful colors in the world.
Cheng Chi couldn’t help but lower his head and, through that smooth silk, took that full, water-droplet-like abundance into his mouth.
Zhou Shaojin let out a soft cry and frantically embraced his head.
His thick, coarse hair in her palms made her acutely aware of the difference between men and women, and her face flushed even deeper.
He bit her.
It hurt considerably, but there was also a tingling, aching numbness that shot up her spine, making her shiver and instinctively push against the person at her chest.
Cheng Chi raised his head and asked softly, “Did I hurt you?”
Zhou Shaojin’s face burned like fire. Unable to speak a word, she lowered her face only to see the wet spot on her chest.
Her face flushed even hotter, the burning sensation becoming so intense she didn’t know where to direct her awareness.
But Cheng Chi was thinking of that tender pink tip, small and delicate, like a newly blooming bud that had never weathered wind or frost… His breathing began to grow irregular. He lowered his head again and took that small spot into his mouth through the undergarment, while his hand moved of its own accord from her waist upward, cupping that soft pink mound. He thought hazily that actually all the colors on her body were quite light, all pinkish like the color of cherry blossoms, as if she hadn’t fully matured yet… But because her skin was so fair, it made her seem especially delicate and tender, particularly soft and feminine…
Those enchanting sights flashed through his mind.
He wondered what she would feel like in time?
He suddenly had the feeling of nurturing a flower to maturity.
Cheng Chi laughed softly, his hand following those exquisite curves, slowly exploring toward that pristine valley…
Zhou Shaojin of course knew what Cheng Chi intended to do.
She was terrified, yet couldn’t move at all.
Not only because of Cheng Chi’s intentions toward her, but because of what he was doing to her… It was as if her body concealed some treasure that he needed to examine thoroughly and explore completely…
Was this how it should be between men and women?
She suddenly felt great regret.
If she had known it would be like this, she should have properly studied those spring palace paintings… At least then she would know what she should do next, instead of being in such a panic now. The luminous pearl’s radiance, the patterns on the bed curtains, the coldness of the air—all disappeared. Her gaze grew hazy; she could only feel that warm hand, and wherever it touched, it burned hot as flame…
Gasping for breath, she suddenly grasped that hand and called out softly, “Don’t.”
He paused, biting her ear and asking, “Does it hurt?”
She shook her head, unable to speak a word.
“Then what is it?” he asked patiently, coaxing her.
She trembled and said, “I’m afraid!”
Her voice was fragmented and broken.
It didn’t sound like fear so much as evasion.
Cheng Chi’s heart surged like ten thousand galloping horses.
He struggled to suppress his roiling desire, tenderly cupping her face and guiding her gaze to his own face. “Are you still afraid?”
A handsome face, warm eyes, gentle expression.
It was Cheng Chi.
Her doting Uncle Chi.
Her loving husband.
Zhou Shaojin’s heart settled.
She shyly shook her head.
Under her gaze, Cheng Chi slowly entered her body.
Zhou Shaojin became as soft as a cloud.
Letting him take what he would.
Letting him command her joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness.
Was it because he was Cheng Chi?
He thought of last night when she had also looked at him this way.
Continuously watching him.
As if as long as it was him, he could do anything to her without restraint.
Cheng Chi’s heart trembled violently.
His palm pressed against her chest.
There was a heart there, beating rapidly.
Beating for him.
Beating only for him.
He asked her, “Who am I?”
The heat evaporated the tears from Zhou Shaojin’s eyes.
She choked out, “Fourth Master!”
Cheng Chi shook his head.
She said, “Zichuan!”
“No.” Cheng Chi kissed her blood-red lips, mumbling indistinctly, “I’m Silang! Be good, call me Silang…”
That was the childhood name his mother had given him.
He wanted to give it to her too.
Zhou Shaojin trembled and called out, “Silang.”
Cheng Chi lost control of his emotions and began frolicking freely in that flower valley…
***
When people grow old, their sleep becomes shorter, not to mention that with the recent wedding celebrations at home, the constant comings and goings of guests and the noise made it even harder to sleep.
Before dawn had broken, Old Madam Guo had already awakened.
She lay against the large welcoming pillow at the head of the bed, fingering the sandalwood prayer beads in her hands one by one, lost in thought.
Nanny Lü walked in with a smile and quietly told Old Madam Guo, “From Fourth Master’s side, they say he didn’t retire until the third watch of the night.”
“Really?” Old Madam Guo was both surprised and delighted, stopped her hands, and sat up.
Nanny Lü nodded and smiled, “There’s no mistake—I asked Fourth Madam’s wet nurse, Fan Liushi.”
“That’s good, that’s good!” Old Madam Guo couldn’t help but press her palms together and chant toward the west, “Amitabha.”
She knew her own son—unless he was extremely fond of someone, he wouldn’t be so unrestrained.
All three of her sons had found people they truly liked. Although she didn’t care for Yuan Shi, she still thought it was good.
Nanny Lü smiled and said, “Congratulations! You’ll be able to hold a grandchild next year!”
Old Madam Guo laughed happily and said, “We must nourish Shaojin well. She’s already young, and her constitution is weak—we can’t have any complications during childbirth, or it would be terrible.”
“How could that happen?” Nanny Lü quickly smiled and said, “Good people have their own heavenly protection. Fourth Madam clearly has good fortune.”
Old Madam Guo laughed a few times and said, “Still, we must be careful. Starting tomorrow, have her walk a circuit with me in the morning and another in the evening.”
Nanny Lü covered her mouth and laughed.
Old Madam Guo paused, then also laughed, saying, “Look at my memory! Even if she walks circuits morning and evening, that will have to wait until after they’ve returned from the bride’s family visit.”
“Exactly!” Nanny Lü smiled as she tested the temperature of the garments on the clothes warmer, asking, “Would you like to lie down a bit longer, or shall I call the young maids in to help you dress?”
Before Old Madam Guo could speak, Zhenzhu rushed in looking somewhat flustered and said, “Old Madam, Fourth Young Mistress has fainted for some reason. Madam has already sent someone to fetch a physician. Should I go over there?”