After nightfall, the servants, having received their instructions, gradually left one by one, and the torches lit successively for the fire’s aftermath were soon extinguished as well. Of the courtyard’s original two small buildings, only one now remained, its lamps lit, seeming warmer and brighter than usual tonight.

After dinner, up until around the Hour of the Pig, visiting relatives kept trickling in one after another, asking after the fire, offering their concerns—and along with them came maids and attendants who had no standing to sit inside but who gathered nearby all the same, making for a lively enough scene.

During the day, with everyone gathered to watch the great cleanup effort at the fire site, there had been something of a mournful, post-disaster air about it all. But by evening, once it was confirmed that no one had been hurt in the fire, everyone had settled into something closer to a party mood amid their relief. They chatted about this and that, some remarking that Ning Yi and Su Tan’er had probably been due for a change of residence anyway. After the fire, the mood among the gathered crowd had turned almost festive.

And indeed—the Su family was hardly short of money for the cost of one building; burned was burned, and so long as no one had been hurt, it was really nothing more than a small mishap. Since the household head herself didn’t seem to mind much, no one else felt the need to dwell on it either, and so the stream of visitors turned the sitting room into little more than a small social gathering.

In truth, the reason Su Tan’er had originally chosen to live in this particular courtyard was simply a passing preference from her girlhood. In principle, now that she managed the main branch’s business, and with the various enterprises taken over from the Wu family absorbed into her portfolio, the businesses under her management were expected to amount to roughly half of the entire Su family’s holdings—which made this courtyard rather unsuitable as a residence going forward.

The courtyard had, from the start, been laid out with a somewhat personal, self-indulgent design—perfectly comfortable to live in, but not quite grand enough for entertaining guests. Everyone assumed Su Tan’er would take this opportunity to choose a different courtyard to live in, and they chattered on about it, each offering their own opinions.

There was an atmosphere in the air that only a certain few people could sense.

Su Tan’er chatted happily with the relatives who came and went, full of laughter, but in truth her mind was elsewhere; her responses were little more than rote formalities. Of course, few people in the Su household were likely to notice this.

Ning Yi behaved as he always did—when relatives came calling, he never failed to observe every courtesy. He and Su Tan’er entertained the guests together, chatting at length about matters of architectural style for the new building, as though nothing at all had happened, occasionally even bringing out brush, ink, and paper to sketch out some design or other.

With so many visitors coming and going, Chan’er, Juan’er, and Xing’er were kept busy in and out, fetching fruit, serving tea, attending to the guests, and also seeing to the arrangement of the attendants and maids who’d come along with them, housing them in the neighboring courtyard. Within the household, the three of them were, in effect, no different from stewards themselves, and they naturally handled it all smoothly and efficiently.

On the surface, everything seemed perfectly normal. As though nothing at all were the matter.

Just as during the past year’s end, when the weather turned cold, everyone would gather in the sitting room. Su Tan’er would look over the account books, or do needlework with the maids, listen to Ning Yi tell stories, and everyone would play chess and chat together; when guests arrived, the three maids would serve tea and attend to them. Everything today was really no different—perfectly ordinary. Except, of course, that today a fire had broken out.

When everything seems too perfectly normal, it can sometimes create an inexplicable sense of wrongness. Others might not sense it, but as time wore on, at least in the hearts of Chan’er, Juan’er, and Xing’er, certain strange questions and thoughts began to take shape.

No one voiced any opinion about what came next.

This wasn’t a matter of the cleanup itself—the Su family wasn’t short of money, nor was Su Tan’er; burning down one building was no great matter, and no one found that particularly odd. But regardless, the small building had burned down—Ning Yi and Chan’er’s living quarters had burned, the little kitchen and bathing room had been affected too. In principle, even if no one much minded, there ought to have been some kind of arrangement discussed. And yet, no one brought the matter up at all.

Some of Chan’er’s belongings had already been moved into the room next to Juan’er’s, but whether she would actually live there going forward was something Su Tan’er hadn’t expressed an opinion on. Of course, this was something she herself had some authority over—she could have quietly had the servants bring things over directly, given that so many of the room’s contents had been destroyed. And going forward, what would become of the little kitchen and bathing room? Most importantly of all—where would Ning Yi sleep tonight? No one brought this up either.

Su Tan’er, who had always been a meticulous, take-charge presence in the past, showed no clear stance whatsoever tonight on anything relating to the fire’s aftermath; she simply attended to the visiting relatives. Ning Yi himself asked no questions either, maintaining his usual demeanor as always—when he needed to fetch brush, ink, and paper, he still went and found them in Su Tan’er’s room, which by now had been cluttered with his belongings; he even called Xing’er over to help. “Where did they put my brush, ink, paper, and inkstone when they moved everything in…” he muttered, rummaging through cabinets and chests.

Su Tan’er’s room, as it now stood, was the greatest source of that sense of wrongness. No one had said where the things should be moved to; as night fell and the hour grew late, Su Tan’er would, after all, have to sleep somewhere tonight too—with all these things piled up in here, what was she supposed to do? She herself seemed to have forgotten about it entirely. Chan’er, Juan’er, and Xing’er had all, at various points, thought about asking—yet each time, a strange, unspoken suspicion would surface in their minds, and in the end, none of them managed to actually voice the question. They simply went about their tasks in silence, papering over the awkwardness.

Past the midpoint of the Hour of the Pig, the visiting relatives gradually took their leave one by one. Once things had quieted down around them, the three maids tidied up the room and did some cleaning. By the time they’d finished and had nothing left to do, they returned to find Su Tan’er and Ning Yi playing a game of gobang to pass the time. The three maids seemed a bit at a loss, sitting idle to the side for a while; eventually Xing’er drank tea, Juan’er took up some needlework, Chan’er idly counted the stitches on a shoe insole Juan’er had made, and then the three of them dug out a set of bamboo tile cards to play with.

Su Tan’er kept her head lowered, saying little to Ning Yi, only occasionally recalling something to ask the three maids whether such-and-such relative had been properly attended to earlier; Xing’er and Juan’er would answer softly. At the gaming board, the married couple, in a manner they hadn’t shown in quite a while, patiently blocked each other’s pieces with evident relish, while over on the other side, the three girls played their bamboo cards half-heartedly, calling out numbers as each card was played—which sounded rather charming, all things considered. Something might happen tonight, and given the possibility and the complexity of it all, the three maids couldn’t help feeling a little uneasy.

The only moment the mood warmed noticeably was when Ning Yi asked Chan’er whether much of hers had burned. Chan’er answered that nothing valuable had been lost. Ning Yi had assumed she might have lost some jewelry, or clothes she was especially fond of. Su Tan’er said she’d buy Chan’er new ones later.

The atmosphere remained strange, and time began to drag on uncomfortably. Chan’er, Juan’er, and Xing’er occasionally stepped out to fetch hot water, brew tea, this and that, with the occasional bit of conversation in the room. Time slowly crept toward midnight. No one knew what would happen next; the master and mistress of the house hadn’t gone to sleep, hadn’t told them to leave, so there was no way for the three of them to go either. Yet it looked as though Su Tan’er and Ning Yi could quite happily keep playing gobang clear through until the next morning.

In truth, Su Tan’er, at this point, could hardly bring herself to wave a hand and say, “You all go on and sleep.” The longer time dragged on, the more anxious she grew inside.

Then midnight passed, the bell tolled, and the surrounding courtyards grew ever more still. The day had, after all, been quite exhausting, and Xing’er, in the middle of her card game, couldn’t help yawning. Ning Yi glanced at her, and Su Tan’er looked over too, finally speaking up. “Ah, Xing’er, you all must be tired. Go on to bed.” Having said this, she picked up a chess piece and lowered her head again, pretending to be deeply absorbed in the game. The three maids rose, exchanging a few words, preparing to leave, tidying up the tea things as they went. Ning Yi tilted his head and smiled, bidding each of them goodnight in turn. Amid all this bustle, Su Tan’er’s nerves settled somewhat.

Chan’er, Juan’er, and Xing’er all filed out of the room, their figures moving down the corridor as though attending to some final task before bed. Another game was played. Ning Yi got up to use the washroom in the neighboring courtyard, and on his way back, ran into Chan’er walking along the path, carrying a copper wash basin, somewhat quiet. But this wasn’t the silence of dejection or gloom—the girl’s expression carried something more complicated, perhaps some feeling she still couldn’t quite process herself. Seeing Ning Yi, she let out a soft “Ah” of surprise.

“Weren’t you supposed to be going to sleep?”

“The wash basin was missing, so I went to get another one,” Chan’er said, head lowered.

The two of them walked together toward the courtyard gate. After a moment, something occurred to Ning Yi, and he let out a quiet laugh. Chan’er glanced at him; he was still laughing, apparently finding the day’s events amusing, and before long, Chan’er couldn’t help laughing softly along with him. As they reached the courtyard gate, she called out quietly, “Young master…”

“Mm?”

Chan’er looked at him. “Young master, is… um, are you going to…” She seemed unsure what exactly she wanted to say, but after thinking about it a moment, the little maid smiled and shook her head. “Never mind.” She hugged the basin to her chest and hurried off toward her own room.

…

Su Tan’er’s mood had been anxious the entire time, and the more the hours passed, the more anxious she grew. It was much like the feeling of waiting for a major business deal to finally close—except that in business, she was an old hand, whereas in matters like this, she was utterly, purely a novice.

She’d felt shy the whole day, but as for what had happened when she’d been caught setting the fire, she didn’t dare even think about it now. No matter how she looked at it, she had no way of predicting what would happen next. She didn’t know whether her husband would be equally unable to make sense of these feelings, didn’t know how things would unfold from here, what sort of conversation might follow, and didn’t know whether he might suddenly say, “Where am I sleeping tonight?” If he really did ask that, how would she even answer?

All sorts of jumbled feelings swirled through her, but for now there was nothing to do but take things one step at a time. Once Ning Yi had stepped out briefly, she sat there restless, then got up and paced back and forth a few steps, unsure what to do with herself. She picked up her teacup and took a sip, then noticed a potted plant behind the screen in the dining hall looking a little dry, and impulsively went over and poured the entire cup of tea into it—only to realize afterward that the tea had been hot, and hurried to find cold water to dilute it. By the time she’d finished, she heard Ning Yi’s footsteps returning.

She took a breath and carried her teacup back, wondering how much longer they’d keep playing gobang, only to find that Ning Yi’s figure had already walked over toward the bedroom, apparently frowning at the mountain of furniture crammed haphazardly inside. Su Tan’er set down her teacup and walked over as well. “Husband.”

“Tch.” Ning Yi laughed. “This place is a total mess. Let’s tidy it up a bit.”

Various tables, chairs, and other items had crammed the room into total chaos, largely because a number of small items, bundles, and boxes had ended up piled onto Su Tan’er’s desk and stools during the move, and no one had bothered to sort them out since. Su Tan’er nodded. “All right, sure.”

She stepped past a cabinet that was partially blocking the way and moved a chair aside. Ning Yi had already gone in and begun sorting through his personal belongings; Su Tan’er opened up some of the bundles as well, pulling out Ning Yi’s clothes to fold and put away, occasionally handing him items within reach.

“The Analects, Mencius…”

“Lecture drafts…”

“The jade pendant from Guangyuan Studio—huh, this thing’s still here…”

“These diagrams… probably useless now.”

“Er, there should be another volume of this somewhere, where would it be…”

“Whose fan is this? Mine?”

Though Ning Yi wasn’t particularly attached to material possessions, there still turned out to be quite a lot of his things. When the two of them had married, even though Su Tan’er had fled the wedding, the old patriarch had still had all sorts of things prepared under his own instruction, and there had been further gifts from various people since, as well as things Ning Yi had collected himself. The two of them spent a fair amount of time sorting through everything bit by bit in the small space, putting things away in their proper places. Su Tan’er sat back down at the edge of her bed and looked around at what no longer much resembled a maiden’s chamber—half the room’s space had already been taken over by Ning Yi’s things.

“These bigger pieces can’t be arranged tonight,” Ning Yi said, pushing a chair up against the desk. “We’ll have someone come sort it out properly tomorrow.”

“Mm.” Su Tan’er nodded. A moment later, she felt the edge of the bed shift beside her and gave a sudden start. Ning Yi had sat down next to her.

Ning Yi had rarely spent much time in her room; the most had been during the stretch when she’d been ill, but even then, whenever he’d sat beside her, he’d always pulled up a stool to sit on. This was her own embroidered bed—until now, it had only ever carried her own presence, or perhaps that of Cousin Danhong on the few nights they’d shared it. But now, a man’s presence had suddenly drawn close.

Ning Yi’s manner was calm, as though he’d simply sat down for a moment after finishing the tidying. Su Tan’er’s heart began racing; she hunched her shoulders slightly, unable to bring herself to look his way. Outside, the sound of the night watchman’s clapper rang out—midnight had already passed. Ning Yi glanced around and laughed.

“This bridal chamber’s really quite the mess.”

Su Tan’er turned her head, and in her field of view, Ning Yi had already leaned in close, reaching out to cup her cheek with his hand.

“It’s getting late.” Their lips nearly touching. “Leave the rest to me from here…”

“Mm…”

There was no double-happiness character on the wall, no red candles lit, only the glow of the oil lamp as the two figures merged into one. Their lips met; Su Tan’er’s gaze grew slightly hazy. She raised both hands, unsure whether she meant to embrace the husband before her or push him away for lack of breath, but after wavering a few times, she managed neither, leaving her hands simply hanging in midair. Before long, her body was gently pressed down onto the bed by Ning Yi.

“Ah… the door, the door’s not closed…”

A few seconds after their lips parted, her mind cleared just enough for Su Tan’er to blurt this out in a fluster. Ning Yi, leaning over her, turned to look back—the main bedroom connected to the sitting room, and they’d just been playing gobang out there; not only was the bedroom door open, but the outer door was open too, and the lamp was still lit. He scratched his head and laughed softly. “I’ll go close it, then.” He walked out to the sitting room, closed the door, and blew out the lamp.

Su Tan’er lay there, breathing quickly, her chest rising and falling, eyes fixed on the top of the mosquito net, both hands lightly clenched and folded over her heart. She had no idea what to do with herself in this moment, too afraid to move at all. She listened as Ning Yi went and closed the door, put out the lamp outside, and by the time he came back, she was still in exactly the same position, her face flushed to who knew what degree. Ning Yi sat down at the edge of the bed and took hold of one of her hands; she simply let him.

In any case, since Ning Yi had already said he’d take care of everything, that settled it—she’d resolved to let herself be led however he wished for the rest of the night.

Ning Yi leaned down, feeling something faintly odd about the whole thing—mostly, probably, because Su Tan’er’s nerves at this moment were rather excessively tense. He glanced around once more at the layout of this “bridal chamber,” then kissed her a few times on the lips and cheeks. Su Tan’er only blushed, not daring to move at all, which made him laugh despite himself. “Oh, right—shouldn’t there be some kind of ritual? Like drinking a bit of wine… or tea would do too, I suppose, or whatever it is people usually do at weddings…”

Before he’d even finished speaking, something occurred to Su Tan’er, and she let out a soft “Ah!” of realization. “The—the white cloth…” She scrambled up at once and ran to rummage through her cabinet, pulling a small folded bolt of white cloth from the very bottom, her face flushing even redder. She walked back to the bed. “H-husband…”

“I feel like this whole situation is really strange,” Ning Yi said with a laugh, pulling back the blanket on the bed and spreading the white cloth out flat in the center. Su Tan’er lowered her head. “This concubine… this concubine finds it pretty strange too.” She couldn’t help laughing as she said it, though the blush on her face remained impossible to suppress.

“Well, it’s about time we consummated things anyway.”

Su Tan’er didn’t dare respond to that remark of his. She sat at the edge of the bed for a moment, then slipped off her moon-white embroidered shoes and shifted onto the bed. She was wearing a white-and-green outfit that day; once her shoes were off, her feet remained tucked beneath her skirts. She sat there now, curled up, looking with some dismay at the white cloth. According to her plan, she was supposed to lie down on the cloth, shut her eyes, grit her teeth, and let her husband have his way with her all night, and the consummation would be done. But having just spread the cloth out herself, she now felt that actively lying down on it and gritting her teeth would look far too brazen, and she hesitated, reluctant to lie down. After a moment, she bit her lower lip. “Husband, let’s… put out the lamp…”

Ning Yi nodded and blew out the oil lamp; the room went dark. With the light gone, Su Tan’er finally felt somewhat less tense. She let down the mosquito net; once Ning Yi climbed up beside her, he let down the other side as well. Before long, faint rustling sounds began to stir within.

“H-husband… how… how do I…”

“I’d say just relax, but it looks like relaxing isn’t really an option for you right now…”

“It’s… it’s so strange…”

“Think of it this way—from now on, we’ll always be living together, and this will happen every day… whose fault is it that you married me, after all?”

“Mm, this concubine… is actually very happy… mm…”

A moment passed.

“Do… do I need to take off my clothes?”

“Generally speaking, yes, there’s no way around that…” A rustle, and the sash of her robe came undone.

“Mm… so strange…” She closed her eyes and endured it.

The sash was tossed outside the mosquito net onto the floor, followed by the outer robe, slipped off and drawn out from beneath her body. Ning Yi lifted the blanket and covered them both.

“Er… ah…” A sound rose up like something close to weeping. Ning Yi’s hand brushed against the skin of Su Tan’er’s back, and his wife arched her body slightly, but a moment later let out another soft cry. “W-wrong side…” Ning Yi paused, stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing as he held her close. Feeling the warmth of their bodies pressed together, Su Tan’er found herself, oddly, less embarrassed than before, and she laughed a little herself, abashed. “What do we do now…”

One of the ties on her stomacher, which she’d originally fastened in a simple bow, had been pulled the wrong way by Ning Yi and turned into a stubborn knot. Su Tan’er, her face burning, imagined the embarrassing scene of lying there in a moment while Ning Yi worked to untie the knot—they might even need to relight the lamp for it. But Ning Yi, ever easygoing, simply set the stomacher issue aside for now and moved on to the next step. Su Tan’er gripped the bedsheet with both hands, eyes shut, too mortified to even breathe properly, letting him do as he pleased. Her white long skirt was tossed outside the netting, and before long her innermost undergarment followed; she’d meant to at least reach out and hold onto that last piece, but her husband went ahead regardless, pressing her long legs together, and for a moment she very nearly burst into tears.

The stomacher, last of all, was simply pulled apart by his hands. Once that garment too had left the netting, Su Tan’er’s whole body burned scorching hot; her hands only gripped the sheets, and even feeling the white cloth beneath her shift slightly askew, she didn’t dare reach down to straighten it, her eyes squeezed tightly shut. Ning Yi undressed as well, deliberately drawing the process out to give her time to grow at least somewhat used to the sensation. This time, with everything unfolding in such an almost comically clumsy, step-by-step fashion, he found it rather entertaining.

Before long, their two bodies pressed together…

“Let’s figure out what comes next together, shall we…”

It was a casual joke, the kind spoken between husband and wife, but unexpectedly, eyes still shut, Su Tan’er gave a small nod. “Mm…” Her voice was faint as a mosquito’s hum, but audible all the same.

The night deepened, no moonlight in the sky outside, and even the stars seemed to blush at the sight, covering their eyes and slipping behind the clouds. The night was still young, and there was still a great deal more waiting to be explored together in the time ahead. In the distance, amid the hazy scattered lights, one lamp flickered briefly across the view, blinking gently…