“What’s that sound?” Ming Tan paused, puzzled, and walked towards the antique shelf.
“A book fell.” Without much thought, she neatly rearranged the fallen military treatise and returned to her desk.
The secret room wasn’t particularly soundproof. Inside, several generals sat rigid, their scalps tingling as they exchanged meaningful glances, their expressions quite remarkable.
They all inwardly marveled: Who would have thought that the Prince and Princess were so affectionate in private…
They had attended the Prince’s wedding banquet at the mansion, but back then, it hadn’t seemed like the Prince valued this marriage much. After the wedding, he rarely mentioned the Princess, as if she didn’t exist. Naturally, everyone assumed their relationship was unremarkable.
Now, the men sat on pins and needles. Some even wondered if they’d be forced to stay in this secret room forever for overhearing things they shouldn’t have. They pondered if it was too late to feign deafness and blindness to save their lives.
Jiang Xu had no intention of letting those in the secret room continue eavesdropping, nor did he want Ming Tan to be so embarrassed by her impulse that she could dig out the Thirteen Ming Tombs with her toes.
He closed the book and stood up, taking Ming Tan’s hand with one hand and picking up the food box with the other. “The study isn’t well-ventilated. Let’s eat in our room.”
Ming Tan wanted to say that opening a window would solve the ventilation issue, but feeling his cool, broad palm holding hers, she swallowed her words and just nodded obediently, allowing him to lead her out.
Just as they were about to exit, a general in the secret room who had caught a cold couldn’t hold back any longer and suddenly sneezed, “Achoo!”
The door had just opened, letting in a gust of chilly early winter air.
Ming Tan froze, her mind blank. After what seemed like an eternity, she belatedly glanced at Jiang Xu.
Jiang Xu paused, realizing he couldn’t hide it anymore. He concisely explained, “There’s a secret room behind the antique shelf. Before you came, I was in a meeting.”
Ming Tan instinctively wanted to ask why he hadn’t said so earlier! But quickly replaying the recent events in her mind, as embarrassment surged, she couldn’t righteously question him any more. After all, she hadn’t given him a chance to explain earlier.
She let go of Jiang Xu’s hand, feeling as if her entire body was on fire. Covering her face, she hurried back to Qi’an Hall.
She was mortified! The fourth peak of embarrassment had appeared so unexpectedly! She shouldn’t have thought those three peaks were insurmountable; this one had been easily conquered! How could this happen? It was truly absurd!
As expected, when Jiang Xu returned to Qi’an Hall, the thin-skinned, easily embarrassed person had locked herself in the room, too ashamed to emerge from under the covers.
Jiang Xu sat on the edge of the bed and calmly lied to comfort her: “What are you doing? Intimacy between husband and wife is normal. They didn’t think much of it, so you shouldn’t be so concerned.”
Ming Tan didn’t believe a word.
“I’ve warned them. Don’t worry, they won’t mention tonight’s events to anyone, nor will it affect the Princess Consort’s virtuous reputation in any way.”
This was true, but Ming Tan only whimpered twice from under the covers, giving no further response.
After what seemed like an eternity of dry comfort, she finally poked her head out from under the covers. She didn’t seem to have come to terms with it but rather looked like she’d been stifled.
She said softly, “Husband, you don’t need to comfort me. Let me be alone for a while.”
With that, she turned to face the inner side of the bed, curling up like a small shrimp.
Jiang Xu had run out of comforting words. After a moment of silence, he extinguished the lights and got into bed, gently rubbing her head.
“Sleep now.”
Ming Tan gave a muffled “Mm.”
He embraced her from behind, and seeing no resistance, turned her around to hold her in his arms. After a moment’s hesitation, he tried to speak: “I, this Prince—”
“I said you don’t need to comfort me anymore. I’m fine.”
“I’m not comforting you. I just wanted to ask why fabric becomes outdated after three months. Does it go moldy?”
“…”
Ming Tan wriggled out of his embrace in an instant, turning back to face the inner side of the bed, too upset to respond.
Not getting an answer from her, Jiang Xu continued to ponder this question seriously, planning to ask the Princess Consort’s maids about it early the next morning.
After the winter solstice, the year was drawing to a close. With no major affairs in court, the palace was busy preparing for the New Year’s Eve banquet.
In the Imperial Study, Emperor Cheng Kang set aside his memorials for a rare casual game of Go with Jiang Xu.
“You really won’t come? This year’s palace fireworks have new designs, and the imperial kitchen has some new chefs. You won’t be disappointed.”
“I’ve already seen the best fireworks,” Jiang Xu replied.
“What?” Emperor Cheng Kang looked up reflexively.
“Nothing,” Jiang Xu said casually, looking down at the board. “The Princess Consort has been preparing at home for days. I won’t be coming.”
Emperor Cheng Kang thought for a moment and didn’t insist. After all, it was the young couple’s first New Year after marriage; wanting to spend it alone at home was understandable.
“Then I’ll have the palace send some dishes to your mansion.”
Jiang Xu didn’t refuse. After all, the gifted dishes weren’t just literal; they represented trust and closeness between emperor and subject.
After two rounds of Go, an eunuch presented the Empress’s draft list of New Year’s rewards for various households for the Emperor’s review.
Emperor Cheng Kang opened it and glanced casually, seeing the Prince of Ding Bei’s household at the top. He tossed the booklet over: “See if anything’s missing.”
A pair of gold hairpins with eight treasures and auspicious begonia patterns, a pair of jade ruyi scepters from the South Sea, a brocade quilt with gold-threaded cloud patterns…
Jiang Xu patiently read to the end, then suddenly asked, “Are these Jin Chun satin and Liu Yun satin the latest fabrics?”
Emperor Cheng Kang: “…?”
He had only politely asked him to check the list, not expecting him to actually take an interest and even comment on it.
The attending eunuch respectfully answered, “Your Highness, Jin Chun satin is a new fabric tribute from Suzhou. Only twenty bolts were offered in total, most exquisite for spring clothes. Though Liu Yun satin isn’t new, it’s an imperial tribute item that cannot be worn outside the palace without being bestowed.”
Jiang Xu nodded, closed the booklet, and returned it.
Emperor Cheng Kang couldn’t help but ask, “Why are you asking about fabrics?”
“Nothing much, just that I bought two bolts of brocade last time, and the Princess Consort said they were outdated.”
He had only known clothes could be new or old before, unaware that women in the capital also cared about the newness of fabrics. Though he found it absurd, he didn’t want his Princess Consort to suffer the embarrassment of wearing outdated fabrics.
“…”
“You buy brocade?”
Jiang Xu looked back with an expression that said “Why wouldn’t I?”
Emperor Cheng Kang was momentarily speechless, just staring at him in amazement, even as he took his leave.
Jiang Qizhi buying brocade for his Princess Consort—at this point, he’d believe it if someone reported Rong Province had fallen without a fight.
—
The year-end days passed in a flurry for every household. Auspicious snow heralded a bountiful year, and the New Year’s Eve of Cheng Kang’s seventh year arrived amidst fluttering snowflakes.
“It’s snowing!” Early in the morning, Ming Tan heard the sound of falling snow outside and got up barefoot to open the window.
Wearing only a thin nightgown, her black hair loosely draped over her shoulders, she excitedly stood on tiptoes to lean out, even reaching out to catch snowflakes, seemingly oblivious to the cold.
Soon, someone draped a thick crane-patterned cloak over her shoulders: “Be careful not to catch cold.”
The cloak wasn’t hers; it was thick and heavy as if a thick quilt had suddenly been placed on her.
Ming Tan paid no attention, carefully cupping the caught snowflakes and bringing them back to show Jiang Xu: “Look, husband, it’s snowing!”
“Is this your first time seeing snow?”
“No, but this year’s snow came late, didn’t it? I had promised Min Min we’d build a snow lion, but the snow just wouldn’t fall.”
Indeed, the first snow of this winter had only come on New Year’s Eve.
Outside, the world was covered in silver. The rooftops seemed blanketed in goose-down quilts, and tree branches bent under the weight of heavy snow. The icy wind, carrying the crisp scent of fresh snow, blew into the room, dispersing some of the lingering intimacy from the night before.
Last night’s activities had lasted until the third watch. She had complained that if she couldn’t get out of bed on New Year’s Eve, it would be all his fault. He had restrained himself somewhat, but now it seemed her complaints were exaggerated. She was in high spirits this early morning, even eager to admire the snow by the window.
Jiang Xu gathered her black hair and carried her back to sit on the soft couch, saying in a deep voice, “Running barefoot on the ground will make you catch cold.”
“How can I catch a cold with the floor heating on?”
Ming Tan retorted while sheepishly tucking her feet under the cloak.
Seeing this, Jiang Xu said nothing.
Ming Tan asked him again, “Husband, we don’t need to go to the palace today, right?”
“No need.”
Ming Tan finally relaxed. She had heard from the Princess of Yu Jun that in previous years when in the capital, the Emperor would summon close royal relatives to the palace for the New Year’s Eve banquet, to watch the New Year’s fireworks, and even stay overnight.
This was her first New Year with her husband, and she had no desire to enter the palace to meet that noisy group of imperial consorts.
Thinking of something, she added, “Husband, are you going to the training grounds later?”
“Yes.”
“Can we go together?”
“What for?” She could barely lift a bow; he had long given up hope of her condescending to exercise at the training grounds.
“I want to build a snow lion. Will you accompany me, husband?” Ming Tan looked at him with sparkling eyes.
“…”
Childish.
Jiang Xu was about to refuse, but Ming Tan tugged at his clothes. His words changed to a reluctant “Mm” at his lips.
Delighted by his agreement, Ming Tan stretched out from the soft couch to hug Jiang Xu’s neck and kissed his cheek, coaxing, “Husband is the best to A’Tan!”
The cloak slipped to her waist with her movement. Jiang Xu reached out to hold her, once again picking her up and carrying her to the bed.
“This Prince sees that you’re not as you claimed last night, too tired to speak or walk. You seem in very high spirits.”
His voice was slightly hoarse, carrying a dangerous tone that Ming Tan was now familiar with. But by the time she realized, it was too late to evade.
“I—mmph! Mmph mmph!”