The bathing chamber adjoining the bridal room was wreathed in mist. The large pool inside was scattered with a layer of flower petals, their faint fragrance drifting pleasantly around the room.

Hua Zhi shed her robes and stepped into the water, lying back. Ying Chun and Bao Xia stepped in with her, while Nian Qiu knelt at the edge of the pool to tend to the young Miss’s hair, and Liu Xiang moved lightly back and forth on her toes, preparing one thing and then another.

Lying there with her eyes closed, enjoying the attentive care of her maids, Hua Zhi felt herself drifting back to those fifteen calm years that had once been hers. In those days, she too had needed only to accept what was given her. The sky was held up by someone else, affairs were managed by someone else, and nothing required her to worry. That had been a true ease of living. Her state of mind now was altogether different — that earlier tranquility was beyond recapturing.

And yet — it had been worth it.

She had Yan Xi now.

Thinking on this, Hua Zhi’s brows curved gently upward into a smile. Once far within those difficulties, she had not thought them bitter. Looking back now that they had passed, she felt all the more that those things had amounted to nothing. Everything she now possessed was what was most real.

Ying Chun kneaded the young Miss’s arm softly and reported in a quiet voice: “Steward Chen told this servant that no attendants have been assigned to serve on the side of you and the young master’s private quarters, and asked this servant to arrange the staff brought from the Hua Family into their positions.”

“Arrange it as you see fit. Give the staff below a good talking-to — no one is to get above themselves. I will not tolerate it.”

“Yes, this servant understands.”

Hua Zhi sat up slightly, the water lapping gently at her. A beautiful sight.

“I will be a mistress who lets you all hold your heads up with pride. You in turn will know how to conduct yourselves in a way that does credit to me. A mistress and her attendants in mutual accord — that too can become a bond worth speaking of.”

All four replied with quiet assent.

Reaching out for Ying Chun and Bao Xia, who were nearest, and glancing back at the other two, Hua Zhi lay back down once more. “I will not say that I have held you back. Even as you are now, a little older in years, none of you will have any difficulty finding a match. When some time has passed, I will look into prospects for you.”

“Miss…”

“Do not say anything about not wishing to marry. Life has a hundred flavors, and marriage is the most significant of them. It must be tasted before one can know whether it is bitter or sweet. I do not need you to sacrifice your entire lives for my sake.”

Such was their Miss that none of them dared to refuse, and all replied in low, quiet voices.

“I will always see to things for you, no matter when.”

“Yes.”

Fu Dong carried in a bowl of broth and, hearing these words, paused mid-step. She wanted to say that she truly wished to remain at the young Miss’s side for her entire life, and to spend a lifetime preparing delicious things for her. But she did not dare say it. They all knew: the young Miss felt guilty over having, because of herself, delayed them in their own lives — even though none of them had ever once thought of it that way.

The groom did not keep his bride waiting long. Not long after Hua Zhi had finished dressing, he returned, carrying with him a faint trace of wine. His gaze fell on Hua Zhi — soft and warm all over from her bath — and would not move away.

Hua Zhi pressed her lips together and smoothed her hair, then held out a set of robes to him. “Go and wash up.”

Gu Yanxi went at once to the bathing chamber, his compliance so complete that it set the maids to secretly smiling.

“You may all retire for the night.”

“Yes.”

The maids knelt together at the foot of the bed. “We wish the young Miss a lifetime of happiness, peace, and smooth sailing.”

Hua Zhi smiled. “You will all see it for yourselves.”

The maids smiled as well. Of course they would — they would remain at the young Miss’s side always. Even when the time came to marry, they would marry within this estate, so they could watch the young Miss’s happiness with their own eyes.

When Gu Yanxi came out, no one remained in the room — only his new bride, sitting on the edge of the bed with eyes curved in a smile, waiting for him.

He walked over and knelt at the foot of the low bed, pressing his face against Hua Zhi’s lap with a long, exhaled sigh. “At last, I have brought you home.”

“You have kept your promise.” Hua Zhi used her fingers as a comb, drawing them through his hair one pass at a time. The man’s hair was very soft — just as the man himself was nothing like the hardness he presented to the world. Had his life not been marked by such upheaval, he would surely have been a gentle and yielding person — filially devoted to his elders, warmly affectionate with his younger siblings, taking a consort when the time came, fathering children, moving quietly from Shizi to Prince as the years unfolded, living a peaceful and settled life.

But then they would never have met. Though the Hua Family had never stated any explicit prohibition against ties to the imperial family, no previous generation had formed such a union — until now, with her, the first exception.

With a heart full of reflection, Hua Zhi said, “And I have kept mine. From now on, your life will surely have me in it.”

Gu Yanxi smiled. So it was — neither of them had broken faith with the other. Not even the gates of the underworld had been enough to sever this bond between them.

He raised his head. Gu Yanxi cupped Hua Zhi’s face in his hands, slid his hand to the back of her neck, and leaned in to press his lips to hers in a kiss — light, and unhurried, and full of tender care.

Hua Zhi unclenched her teeth and deepened the kiss — gentle, lingering, the most intimately devoted of embraces.

After a moment, Gu Yanxi released her. He looked at her — the faint flush on her face, the vivid crimson of her lips, the ripple of warmth in her eyes, and the touch of shyness in her expression that was not usually visible, mingled with a trust that was wholehearted and absolute.

All at once Gu Yanxi thought back to that rain-soaked night when they had first met. Though already at the very end of her strength, she had been stubbornly braced at the front, sheltering those who should have been protecting her behind her own body. Every last scrap of energy she had left was directed to precisely where it was most needed. The Hua Zhi of that night had been sharp and keen as an arrow loosed from a bow. In that moment, he had found himself wondering what it would feel like to be protected by someone like her.

Later, he finally became the one she protected. He had tasted something of that feeling — and had grown greedy for more. And now at last he had his wish: he had become the person closest to her, the most intimate with her, second to none. No one could compare.

The life he had once known — nothing but shades of black and white — had at last found color.

Looking at the man who had been still for a long while, Hua Zhi wrapped both hands around his neck and rubbed against him lightly. Her voice was low. “Is this your way of asking me to take the lead?”

“How could I dare let my Princess Consort tire herself?” Gu Yanxi pressed close to her and braced himself up, bearing his weight down as he pressed her back against the bed. He then gathered her in his arms and gave a rolling turn, reversing their positions so that Hua Zhi lay over him.

The loosely draped robe Hua Zhi had put on did not survive these few movements with its ties intact. Beneath it, there was nothing else — and against bare skin, the red silk only made it appear whiter than snow.

Gu Yanxi leaned up and stole a gentle graze against her. He watched as a patch of pale skin slowly bloomed with color, and smiled with satisfaction. This person was his. From this day forth, he need no longer keep his feelings bound within the restraints of propriety.

“Hua Zhi…” The low murmur seemed to rise from the very depths of his heart. Gu Yanxi turned and pressed her beneath him. One long arm reached out; the other pulled at the tie of his own robes. The soft silk slipped down to the edge of the bed. The gauze curtain fell. Within the quilt embroidered with paired birds, warmth rose like a tide.

When the wind died and the rain stilled, neither of them slept. Gu Yanxi stroked Hua Zhi’s smooth back with a slow and steady hand, satisfaction and a quiet smile settled in his eyes and at the corners of his mouth. Hua Zhi lay against the man’s chest, eyes half-closed, thinking of something or nothing in particular.

“Yan Xi.”

“Mm.”

“Do you think — is it Zhuangzi dreaming he is a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming it is Zhuangzi?”

“Whichever one gave you what you wanted — that is the answer.” Gu Yanxi replied without a moment’s pause. “Even if it is a butterfly dreaming it is Zhuangzi, as long as the one who married me is you, as long as the one beside me is you — what does it matter if we are living in a butterfly’s world?”

Hua Zhi’s lips curved upward. And was that not so — as long as the happiness she held in her hands was real, as long as this man was hers, as long as the love her family had for her was genuine, as long as everything she possessed truly existed, that was enough. Whether it was Zhuangzi dreaming of a butterfly or a butterfly dreaming of Zhuangzi.

“Do you still remember the symbols on the lantern we made on the night of the Lantern Festival?”

“Of course. You said you would tell me their meaning when we were wed.”

“Those words meant: my heart is drawn to you, Yan Xi. My heart is drawn to you. It has been yours for a very long time.”

Gu Yanxi could not contain the light that flooded his face. He bowed his head and pressed a kiss to the top of her hair. “And mine as well, Hua Zhi. My heart is drawn to you.”