“My lord, you have had too much to drink!” Though he had bathed, the scent of wine still clung to him heavily.

Shiyiniang lay in his embrace in her outer robe, feeling deeply uncomfortable. She struggled to sit up.

“It is not the wine that intoxicates, but the one who wishes to be intoxicated.” Xu Lingyi laughed and reached to loosen her robe.

From the corner of her eye, Shiyiniang caught the teasing gleam in his gaze. Thinking of his repeated jibes, she simply decided to let things be — yet her face burned beyond all control, and she buried it in the large pillow.

Xu Lingyi, seeing that her ears had gone quite crimson, yet that she lay pliant and unresisting, found it enormously amusing. He leaned close to her ear and murmured all manner of nonsense, while his hands never paused — stripping her down to nothing but her undergarments.

Shiyiniang was deeply ill at ease.

Those previous times had been clouded with anxiety, and she had not paid much attention. Yet she had not expected Xu Lingyi to carry on in quite this manner. It reminded her of walking to school as a child and having boys whistle at her or call out from the roadside. By the time she grew up she understood it to be a boy’s way of showing admiration, but in the moment it had been acutely mortifying.

She could not help but raise her head and shoot him a reproachful glare. “My lord…” she said, pulling the quilt around herself.

To Xu Lingyi’s eyes, the woman before him was as radiant as morning clouds, her bright eyes flashing sidelong like the glistening ripples of spring water. She was beautiful to the utmost, tender to the utmost, and something stirred in his heart. The teasing in his hands gave way to something gentler, something tinged with warmth and intimacy, as he carefully drew away her undergarment, baring a pair of shoulders as pure as the first snowfall, and the delicate fine lines of her collarbone.

The sight before him made his heart skip — he could not quite catch his breath.

“Shiyiniang…” he murmured indistinctly, and pressed his lips to her shoulder.

Whether she had sensed Xu Lingyi’s intention, or whether it was simply the coolness in the air, Shiyiniang gave a slight shiver, and her body went rigid.

This could not go on.

She knew that whatever the consideration, she had no grounds to refuse Xu Lingyi’s rights in this matter. Since that was so, the only way forward was to find a way to come to terms with it. Retreating from problems whenever they arose was not how she handled things. Besides — she was Shiyiniang now, and ought to live as Shiyiniang… She had managed needlework and sewing perfectly well before… And in this world, girls married at thirteen or fourteen — surely not every one of them felt as she did. When it came down to it, she had simply spent more of her time as Moyan…

She drew in a deep breath, and her hands closed involuntarily around the corner of the quilt.

But Xu Lingyi, his attention quite elsewhere, had noticed none of this.

The faint, elusive scent of roses that drifted about him made his pulse restless, while the skin beneath his lips, smooth as finest cream, made him unwilling to pull away. He followed the scent greedily, pressing his lips along its trail…

Each kiss was a little firmer than the last. The pressure stung faintly, and Shiyiniang instinctively pushed him away.

Xu Lingyi came to himself with a start.

A scattering of vivid marks had bloomed across her shoulder, like flowers fallen upon snow, unfurling with reckless beauty.

And all he had done was kiss her gently a few times…

The thought flitted through his mind, followed swiftly by the image of how fragile and yielding she had looked. She seemed particularly delicate…

He could not help but gather her in his arms, and pressed a soft kiss to her cheek. “Did I hurt you?” Yet his arms, as if acting of their own accord, drew her tighter against him.

The warm breath, heavy with wine, washed over her face. It was rather unpleasant.

On any other occasion she would have simply endured it, placated him with a few words, and coaxed him into letting go. But since she had resolved to address this, communication was now quite necessary.

She considered for a moment, lowered her gaze, and murmured quietly, “My lord, you are so strongly scented of wine… It is making your concubine feel unwell…” Then, uncertain whether Xu Lingyi, generous as he was, could accept even so private a complaint between husband and wife, she glanced up at him cautiously.

Xu Lingyi was taken aback.

He had not expected this reason. And seeing her unable to meet his eyes, a trace of timidity in her expression — she looked like a small girl afraid of being scolded… He suddenly thought of Xu Lingkuan. As a child, Xu Lingkuan had always worn precisely this expression in his presence. When the brothers had later sat up together by candlelight and spoken of their younger years, Xu Lingkuan had confessed that he had always hemmed and hawed in his presence and could not speak plainly — like a little girl, he had thought, and it had made him frown every time he saw him. Yet Xu Lingkuan had said that from childhood he had only ever wanted to be close to him, but seeing that frown, he never knew how to go about it. Perhaps Shiyiniang was the same?

She wished to be close to him, yet feared his recklessness.

He thought of those days when he had simply held her in his arms while they slept, and how docile she had been; and of that time he had been teasing her and ended up ensnaring himself, and how compliant she had been then too…

Xu Lingyi could not help but laugh quietly.

Shiyiniang looked up in surprise, and saw his brow arch. “Just because of that?”

Of course it was not only because of that.

But one could not swallow an entire meal in a single bite. Some things had to be said one step at a time.

“Mm.” She gave a small nod.

Xu Lingyi, gazing at the soft curve of her lips, was suddenly seized with the desire to taste them. He smiled and bent down to kiss her.

Only lovers kiss…

On instinct, Shiyiniang turned her face aside and evaded him.

“Shiyiniang…” Xu Lingyi stared at her, startled.

Shiyiniang groaned inwardly.

She had only just made up her mind — and already…

She had no choice but to make amends.

Pouting, she pushed at him. “So much wine on your breath.”

Xu Lingyi, seeing her play the part of a sulking child, felt that faint flicker of displeasure melt away in an instant, like ice meeting the sun.

“All right, all right.” He ruffled her hair vigorously, then pulled her into a firm embrace. “Now sleep.”

The gesture was a little rough, yet pressed so close to him, Shiyiniang could feel the change in his body quite unmistakably.

He is truly just going to sleep…

Shiyiniang could scarcely believe it.

Then she felt Xu Lingyi’s large, warm hand roaming slowly at her waist, occasionally kneading, until the tension in his body gradually eased.

And a strange heaviness settled in her own chest.

If she did not carry that fragment of Moyan’s memories, she thought she would have found him a good husband.

Even with those memories — he was a good man to be close to…

She turned her head.

Outside the saffron-yellow fine gauze bed curtain, a sapphire-blue brocade hanging embroidered with a cluster of five bats encircling the character for longevity gleamed in the pale lamp light, flickering with a glow that shifted between bright and dim, like dancing rosy clouds.

Shiyiniang bit her lip, turned over, and nestled against Xu Lingyi’s chest. Then her hand fell lightly at his waist.

“My lord…” Her clear voice carried a hint of hesitation. Her fingertip traced an ambiguous line along the smooth silk, and slowly came to rest against the warmth of his skin.

Her hand was caught.

“Go to sleep.” His low, rich voice carried a faint hoarseness. “There is an early rising tomorrow.”

Shiyiniang froze.

Then she felt the heat rise to her face until it burned.

She had actually been refused…

“I have been drinking…” His voice sounded a touch subdued.

Was it because of the refusal just now?

Shiyiniang was too mortified to bear it. She turned her back to him.

Xu Lingyi was puzzled.

Then he understood.

A low laugh escaped him.

“I have no wish to stop halfway again like last time…”

He pressed light kisses along the smooth expanse of her back.

Shiyiniang went rigid.

Xu Lingyi felt her reaction, and laughed openly — a sound full of unmistakable delight.

This was truly… too embarrassing…

Shiyiniang pulled the quilt over her head, only to be hauled back out by Xu Lingyi.

“Moyan…” He kissed her cheek, his voice brimming with unconcealed amusement. “Grow up a little faster.”

—

Nan Yong’s wife cast a careful glance at Shiyiniang, who sat composed before the dressing table, then let her gaze dart sideways for a brief moment toward Xu Lingyi, who was half-reclining on the bed. She pressed the red gold hairpin set with southern pearls into the hair at Shiyiniang’s temple, then asked softly, “Madam, does this look all right?”

Shiyiniang looked at the reflection in the mirror.

It was indeed true that fine clothes make the man.

A tall peony chignon wreathed in pearls and jade ornaments, a vivid red satin robe with pomegranate-diamond pattern and floral-medallion cut-silk sleeves, gorgeous and resplendent, with the lightest powder and artfully arched brows — all of it combined gave her an air of dignified magnificence well beyond the everyday.

She smiled and gave Nan Yong’s wife a small nod, then took two pouches from the dressing case and pressed them into her hands. “One is yours; the other is a New Year’s gift for your little daughter.”

Nan Yong’s wife quickly dipped a curtsy in thanks, bowed her head, and crept out with exaggerated care. Only once she reached the inner corridor did she straighten up and let out a long breath.

Whatever had come over things today.

The Madam who was usually all smiles sat stiff-faced; the Marquis who was usually stiff-faced sat smiling brightly… and was lying in bed watching the Madam dress and put on her hair… It all felt distinctly odd.

She was still turning it over in her mind when she heard someone call to her: “Nan Jiejie, when did you start working in Fifth Young Master’s room?”

Nan Yong’s wife stopped short and turned to find ten-year-old Shuangyu standing beneath the eaves holding a basin of hot water.

Shuangyu was smiling. “Nanny Tao said that after the New Year, Nan Jiejie will be assigned to Fifth Young Master’s room. I have been given to Fifth Young Master by Madam too — we shall be sharing a room!”

Nan Yong’s wife was surprised.

When Shiyiniang had asked whether she would be willing to serve in Fifth Young Master’s room, she had gone home to discuss it with Nan Yong, only to be scolded by him: “When Madam asks you, that is giving you face. And you actually came home to consult me? Who do you think you are? Go and kowtow your thanks to Madam at once.” She had panicked then: “Is it not because I am afraid I cannot look after him properly? Fifth Young Master is not from an ordinary background, and was only returned to the household at the age of three. There are so many pairs of eyes watching from above and below — if I am too strict with him, Fifth Young Master may resent it; if I am too lenient, the rules will slip and I will have failed Madam’s trust. How could I dare take on such a responsibility?” “Fool. Talking such nonsense.” Nan Yong had flown into a rage, then pushed and pulled her out the door, insisting on going with her to apologize to Shiyiniang in person.

Fortunately, Steward Zhao’s wife next door had stopped Nan Yong: “What do you think you are doing? Madam likes your wife precisely because she is honest and steady. You stay out of it. Just let your wife go to Miss Hupo and give a word of reply — that is all that is needed.”

Steward Zhao carried standing in the household, and his wife’s word was not something Nan Yong dared ignore. He urged his wife to go and answer at once.

Nan Yong’s wife had gone without delay to give Hupo her answer.

She had not expected that in just a few days, everyone already seemed to know.

She smiled at Shuangyu: “That will be as Madam decides.” Then she changed the subject: “Whose water is that? Mind it does not go cold.”

“It is fine — this is for Lvyun Jiejie.” Shuangyu smiled. “Today Hupo Jiejie and the others are going with Madam to Bowstring Lane to visit relatives. Hongxiu Jiejie is on duty; Lvyun Jiejie has the day off.”

“Even so, do not let the water cool.” Nan Yong’s wife said a few words of reminder, and they each went their separate ways.

Back in the room, Shiyiniang turned to Xu Lingyi with a reproachful air: “My lord, are you not going to get up? We shall be late to Bowstring Lane.”

—