Ling’ai was carried all the way to the bedside, where he reached out and let down the bed curtains. The red curtains fell in layered folds, and the red candles still burning cast a warm, intimate flush of color over the small room.

He looked down at her from above. Her face too was bathed in that warm glow — and yet in his eyes, every delicate feature radiated a quiet allure, stirring in him an irresistible urge to draw close and savor her.

“Zheng Yun.”

Just as he lowered his head, Ling’ai’s lips parted gently, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Hmm?” His lips paused an inch from hers as he struggled to keep his burning gaze in check.

Ling’ai turned her eyes away, a little self-conscious, and murmured something under her breath: “Be gentle.”

Zheng Yun was momentarily taken aback — then he smiled. His smiling lips touched hers lightly, his voice dissolving into the space between them: “I will.”

The red candles flickered. The light was dim. The night was deep. All tenderness and sweetness gathered within the folds of that red bridal curtain.

Time passed — how much, neither could say — before unsteady breathing at last grew calm.

Ling’ai lay with her eyes half-closed, utterly unwilling to move. Then Zheng Yun suddenly rolled over and propped himself up beside her.

Sensing a warm gaze resting on her, Ling’ai made the effort to open her eyes.

“What are you looking at?” Ling’ai met his gaze. Thinking of what had just passed between them, her cheeks flushed a little deeper.

She wanted to bury her face in the blanket and hide from his eyes — but he cupped her face in his hands, his thumb gently tracing the curve of her lips, his voice carrying a note of surprise and disbelief.

“Ai Zi.”

It was the first time she had heard him call her by that pet name. Something inside her trembled.

His voice was beautiful to begin with — and murmuring her name like this, it seemed to carry an otherworldly pull, drawing her toward him with an irresistible force.

“Ai Zi.” Zheng Yun called her name again softly. “Were you… a first-timer?”

He had sensed it clearly — and when his eyes fell on the sheets beneath her, she happened to shift position, revealing a small patch of red.

Ling’ai pressed her face shyly against his and gave a small nod.

Zheng Yun gently turned her face back toward him, making her look at him. “How is that possible?”

“Shi Guang never touched me.” Ling’ai said quietly. “The night I married him, he came to my room — only to say a few words to warn me. After that, he never crossed the threshold of my courtyard again.”

Zheng Yun had always known that Shi Guang was not a man of lustful character — but he hadn’t imagined he wouldn’t even touch his newly wedded wife.

“Shi Guang… he had always been in love with Yan Qing.” Ling’ai thought of Shi Guang — though bitterness lingered in her heart, it was not the gnashing, burning kind. His conduct had been reprehensible, yet in the end, he had never directly hurt her. “He had one concubine, a woman called Qiu Cao, who was also pregnant. When Shi Guang went to her, they still slept in separate rooms.”

“I knew something of Shi Guang’s feelings for Sister-in-Law.” Zheng Yun now felt a flicker of gratitude toward him — not because he gained anything from it, but because Ling’ai had been spared some degree of suffering during that time.

He didn’t care that Ling’ai had been married before. No matter what, she was pure in his eyes — it had nothing to do with whether she had been married.

Zheng Yun pulled her close with force, his heart filled to the brim with tender protectiveness.

“You’ve suffered.”

“That’s all in the past.” Ling’ai pressed against his chest, smiling as she spoke. “Before, I always thought I’d spend the rest of my life as a hollow shell — going through the motions day after day. I never imagined I could come back to life, or that I could still find happiness.”

“Silly girl — Heaven does not treat the kind-hearted poorly.” Zheng Yun said with feeling. “Good people will always be rewarded.”

“You never resented me for it?”

“How could I?” Zheng Yun brushed her cheek lightly. “I’m the one who should resent myself for not being able to protect you. What right would I have to resent you?”

“I’m not as wonderful as you think.”

“No — you truly are.” Zheng Yun tightened his arms around her. “You deserve it.”

The curve of Ling’ai’s lips rippled with happiness. “Thank you, Shu Shi.”

“What did you call me?”

“Shu Shi.” Ling’ai looked up at him and blinked. “Is that not right?”

“No good.” Zheng Yun shook his head. “That’s not what you should call me.”

Ling’ai assumed there was some custom in Taohua Village about this, so she humbly sought guidance. “Then what should I call you?”

“Silly — call me husband.” Zheng Yun smiled.

Ling’ai gave a gentle sound of agreement, soft as a kitten’s purr: “Husband.”

“My darling wife.” Zheng Yun pressed a light kiss to her forehead, feeling completely content.

The two held each other for a while before Zheng Yun asked softly: “My darling wife, may I come to you again? Does it still hurt?”

“It hurts.” Ling’ai declined without ceremony. “It’s sore.”

Zheng Yun immediately relented. “Then we sleep.”

In the countryside, conditions were modest — a hot bath in the dead of night was out of the question, and there was no one to wait on them. So the two simply fell asleep in each other’s arms. And they slept until just before dawn.

A rooster crowed in the courtyard, and Zheng Yun opened his eyes. He glanced first at the person beside him — Ling’ai was curled up like a little cat against his chest, both hands clutching his lapels, sleeping soundly.

The sky had not yet fully brightened. The red candles that had burned through the night were now nothing but pools of wax. In the faint light, her face looked especially rosy — like a perfectly ripened honey peach from the mountain, tender and sweet.

He couldn’t help but lower his head and place a light kiss on her cheek.

She didn’t wake — she only burrowed a little deeper into his arms, that greedy little motion making his heart stir. What had started as a gentle kiss grew, with his deepening breath, gradually more fervent.

Ling’ai was woken by his kiss. When she opened her bleary eyes and saw that familiar face before her, she felt for a moment as though she were in another world entirely.

She was used to waking to an empty room. But now — he was truly there, real and present in her sight. And in every morning that followed, when she opened her eyes, she would be able to look at him just like this.

A feeling of happiness rose inside her, layer upon layer, slowly winding around her until it filled her limbs entirely. She felt herself floating on a warm sea, bathed in sunlight.

“Good morning.” His low, deep voice opened this extraordinary morning — and in the countless mornings to come, that voice would accompany her always.

“Good morning.” Ling’ai’s eyes curved into a smile that she couldn’t suppress.

Zheng Yun suddenly rolled over and pinned her beneath him.

Ling’ai had been about to say something, but every word was sealed away.

“Hey, you still haven’t…”

By the time the sky was fully light, Ling’ai nudged him impatiently. “Are you going to get up or not?”

In the days she had stayed here, she had come to understand the Zheng family’s daily rhythms — they rose at the rooster’s crow without fail, then lit the stove and prepared breakfast. After eating, they went up the mountain to work.

If they got up now, breakfast would already be done.

Ling’ai didn’t want to earn the reputation of a lazy new daughter-in-law on her very first day — but just as she moved to rise, Zheng Yun pulled her back.

“Hey — what are you doing? It doesn’t look good to just lie here. I really should go help.”

“Here, newlyweds are allowed to sleep in — no one will laugh at you,” Zheng Yun soothed her. “Last night, Mother quietly told me: don’t rush her to get up. There’s no custom of serving tea to the in-laws here — she can sleep as long as she likes.”

“I’m not as shameless as you — sleeping a little more or a little less makes no difference.”

“You’re not tired?”

Ling’ai sat up straight — and immediately felt her back and waist aching. She shot him a fierce glare. “You have the nerve to ask? I told you to be gentle. Keep this up and you can sleep elsewhere.”

A martial man with trained endurance — truly boundless energy.

Zheng Yun laughed and quickly apologized: “My darling wife, please don’t be angry — I’ll be careful next time.”

“One more time like that, and there is no next time.”

“Understood, I will absolutely be more careful.” To secure his supply of nightly comfort, Zheng Yun had no choice but to hold her close and coax her, again and again.

Seeing that his attitude in admitting the mistake was good, Ling’ai flicked him on the head. “Good that you know. Now get up.”

After the two had washed and dressed, they made their way to Zheng’s parents’ room, where Eldest Sister-in-Law was just carrying in a pot of porridge. Seeing the two of them, she exclaimed at once: “Up so early!”

Ling’ai stepped forward at once to help take the bowls and chopsticks. Just then Mother Zheng also emerged, and quickly waved Ling’ai away. “Don’t bother yourself — let Eldest Sister-in-Law and Second Sister-in-Law handle it.”

“I got up late and wasn’t able to help — I’ll wash the dishes afterward,” Ling’ai said, embarrassed.

“Mother, look at this new daughter-in-law of yours — beautiful, virtuous, sensible. Not at all like a pampered young miss from a wealthy family.”

In everyone’s eyes, a girl like Ling’ai who had grown up holding a golden spoon would naturally be a delicate creature, with soft hands that had never done a day’s work.

Yet in Ling’ai, they saw none of those traits associated with wealthy young ladies. She was willing to endure hardship and was perceptive to the needs of others — without a trace of the airs of high society.

That kind of person was far easier to accept and grow fond of, and without realizing it, she had drawn herself much closer to the Zheng family.

“As if you know what wealthy young ladies are like.” Mother Zheng shot her eldest daughter-in-law a reproachful look, then said to Ling’ai: “Don’t listen to her nonsense — she talks endlessly every day without ever getting tired of it.”

“I’m complimenting your daughter-in-law — saying you raised her well.”

“Hurry up and eat. All that talking — don’t you ever get worn out?”

Though Mother Zheng’s face was stern, her eyes held a smile. Though she spoke words of reproach, she truly liked this eldest daughter-in-law of hers.

The whole family sat down together for a warm, joyful breakfast.

“Third Son, don’t go up the mountain today — take Ling’ai around to see the sights,” Elder Brother said. “You’ve only come back for a few days. Stop spending every day up on that mountain — we don’t need the little bit of work you contribute.”

“That’s right. Ling’ai came to Taohua Village to take a look around — don’t let her leave disappointed,” Second Brother chimed in.

Zheng Yun looked at Ling’ai beside him and raised an eyebrow. “Then I’ll take you to see the waterfall.”

Ling’ai eagerly nodded. “Alright!”

Seeing the young couple exchange a look filled with tender, flowing affection, everyone at the table suppressed smiles.

“By the way — when are you two planning to head back?” Elder Brother asked.