Qing Zhuo wasn’t prepared and was struck so hard that tears burst from his eyes. While rubbing his head, he protested indignantly: “But Daoist priests from our Longhu Mountain can marry too! If Master and Master’s Wife didn’t marry, where would the new young master come from?! Besides, Master and Master’s Wife are both worried about His Highness, so what’s wrong with me worrying about His Highness too? His Highness doesn’t even know if he’s looked at that booklet or not. What if he gets drunk and forgets?!”

Han Feng felt both annoyed and amused, and somewhat curious: “What booklet?”

Qing Zhuo lowered his head somewhat bashfully, wringing the hem of his clothes as his face flushed red, stammering: “It’s… it’s that booklet…”

This earned him another knock on the head from Han Feng.

Zhou Weizhao, who Qing Zhuo was so worried about, showed no signs of concern at all. He leisurely entered the bathing chamber to wash, his wedding robe draped over the clothes rack by the door, and went in alone.

Nanny Xu felt somewhat hesitant and surprised. She called Qing Tao out to ask the palace maids who had earlier set out the meal and arranged the bathing chamber for Song Chuyi. When she returned, she told Song Chuyi with great emotion: “His Highness has always bathed and dressed himself, never relying on others.”

Song Chuyi still remembered the four voluptuous chamber maids in Shen Qingrang’s household from her previous life. Her butterfly-wing-like eyelashes covered her eyes, making it impossible for anyone to discern her current state of mind.

Nanny Xu took the opportunity to grasp her hand and admonish her: “Later, you mustn’t be willful, but if His Highness is too unrestrained, you also cannot be too indulgent with him. Be careful not to harm your own body.”

Song Chuyi finally blushed deeply. Usually so quick-witted and eloquent, at this moment she seemed to have lost her ability to speak, and could only respond with a voice as faint as a mosquito’s buzz.

The pair of dragon and phoenix candles on the table, thick as a child’s arm, flickered a few times, and Zhou Weizhao had already emerged. He naturally picked up a cloth to dry her hair.

Nanny Xu and Qing Tao exchanged glances, both showing surprise on their faces, but immediately understood and left with smiles on their faces.

Song Chuyi was like a startled rabbit, almost jumping up. She forced herself to remain calm, sitting rigidly as Zhou Weizhao dried her hair.

The room was completely quiet. Zhou Weizhao suddenly laughed softly: “Usually fearing neither heaven nor earth, but now you finally know fear?”

Song Chuyi’s nerves were already taut, and hearing his laugh, she couldn’t help but tremble. She rolled over in one motion to distance herself from him, curling her feet as she retreated to the corner of the bed. Only after hiding did she realize this was her wedding night, and her heart trembled again.

She had been afraid in her previous life too. Although filled with joy, no one had ever taught her how to express love to the one she loved, so she had wishfully treated Shen Qingrang well in her own way.

When Shen Qingrang lifted her veil, she had flinched—truly because there were too many people, and she had just been scolded by Shen Huiyi, so she instinctively flinched. What she received in return was not Shen Qingrang’s comfort and smile, but his eyes showing slight impatience and disgust. Whether a person truly cared for you could be known from their eyes; eyes don’t lie. She had felt somewhat panicked and embarrassed, but immediately forced a faint smile back on. At that time, she had no way out—Grandmother and Father were both extremely disappointed in her and no longer cared about her. Shen Qingrang was already her only support. It seemed that from that moment she began continuously lowering herself, until finally she was humbled into the dust.

Thinking of this, she subconsciously looked at Zhou Weizhao’s eyes. Zhou Weizhao lowered his head and laughed again, this laugh full of indulgence and tolerance, without the slightest impatience or disgust at being kept at a distance.

Song Chuyi felt slightly reassured, yet also somewhat heartbroken. She looked up at Zhou Weizhao standing before the bed, so handsome he seemed unworldly, feeling somewhat lost and apprehensive, her voice trembling: “I’m sorry, I’m a bit… scared…”

She bit down hard on the word “scared.” The short sentence was extremely difficult to say. As soon as she finished speaking, tears were already streaming down her face. She had never been one who loved to cry, and since her rebirth, the number of times she had cried could be counted on one hand. But she didn’t know why—every time she saw Zhou Weizhao, she involuntarily felt wronged, felt that she could cry.

In front of others, she had to hold back, but before Zhou Weizhao, she simply couldn’t hold back at all. She lowered her head, clutching at her clothes hem, crying until her voice changed: “I—”

She remembered Old Madam Song’s instructions before she left home, saying she could cry as much as she wanted before leaving, but crying in the bridal chamber was inauspicious and no crying should be heard. So she forced herself to hold back again, her nose twitching, her face flushed red.

Zhou Weizhao stared at her silently. The next moment, he suddenly moved onto the bed and pulled her into his arms.

She was like a small cat, burying her head in the crook of his arm, nestled in his embrace in an unguarded, completely trusting posture. He felt something inside his heart suddenly collapse, his heart softening completely. He gently placed a kiss in her hair, with infinite patience soothing her: “Don’t be afraid… Xiao Yi, don’t be afraid…”

Song Chuyi’s sobbing finally gradually stopped. All the countless worries and fears in her heart before leaving home seemed to dissipate into nothing with Zhou Weizhao’s single sentence. She looked up at Zhou Weizhao’s eyes full of heartache, pressed her lips together awkwardly, and sat up, hurriedly wiping away her tears.

Black hair, red robes, eyes still wet from crying like the finest crystal, clear and transparent, making one’s mouth water. Zhou Weizhao reached out to cup her face, slowly covering her eyes with his lips.

Song Chuyi’s tear-dampened lashes were still trembling lightly when Zhou Weizhao had already reached out to pull her fiercely into his arms, holding her tightly. His lips fell on her hair, her brow, her delicate nose, and finally her lips.

Song Chuyi clutched at his lapels, so nervous she could barely breathe, only feeling thick goosebumps rising all over her body, involuntarily wanting to retreat.

But Zhou Weizhao slowed his advance again, pressing her into his embrace to hear his heartbeat, laughing softly: “Xiao Yi, you never need to worry about my feelings. As long as you need me, I will never leave.”

Song Chuyi thought Zhou Weizhao really knew how to talk—no wonder even Song Yan and Song Jue were coaxed into complete obedience by him. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, trying hard to curve her lips, responding as if joking: “You must remember what you said today. If one day you no longer like me, no longer want me… you must tell me. I definitely won’t make things difficult for you.”

The smile on Zhou Weizhao’s face disappeared bit by bit. For a moment, his expression was as calm as when she first met him. He stared at her fixedly, as if wanting to be angry, but finally pulled her into his embrace: “That day will never come. Since I said I only want you, I truly only want you.”

As for whether you believe it or not—it doesn’t matter. I will use the rest of my life to prove it.