Chapter 20 (2/2): Skin White as Snow, Flesh and Bone Lustrous and Smooth

This time Sima Jing said nothing, but she kept talking:

“Longan incense isn’t cheap; ordinary households can’t afford it. Unlike mint— just sow the seeds and water the fertilizer, it grows lush quickly.”

“Our Daoguan had a patch of mint behind the vegetable garden. Every early summer I’d pick some to make mint balm; it kept mosquitoes away and cleared the mind. Such a wonderful thing. But no matter how good mint is, it can’t compare to Longan incense.”

“…”

“Your Highness probably knows that both Buddhism and Daoism burn incense during worship, right? Like their Buddhist Yufujie, and our Daoist grand ceremonies, they all burn Longan incense. Besides Longan incense, there’s frankincense, clove, agarwood, and turmeric… these are expensive, only large Daoguans can afford to burn them pound by pound. The small Daoguan I stayed at would only burn two pieces on the birthdays of Yuanshi Tianzun, Taishang Laojun, and a few other ancestors…”

“…”

Nose catching the man’s deep, pleasant scent again, Yun Ran couldn’t help sighing: “It’s nice to have money— buy whatever incense you want. The day after I arrived in Chang’an, my sisters-in-law took me to a West Market incense shop. There were so many varieties. I sniffed them all and my nose went numb…”

She suddenly recalled a scoundrel claiming to serve at the Jing Prince’s Manor that day.

Just as she prepared to ask if he was really from there, the man said: “Shut up and sleep.”

Yun Ran: “…?”

She turned her face to look outside.

Outside, the bright candlelight glowed through the scarlet bed curtain, leaving only a dim red haze.

The man’s features were blurred, only his deep brows and straight, high nose visible.

Fine, maybe she was being too sensitive, but…

“Your Highness, why must you speak so harshly?”

Yun Ran furrowed her brows, her expression serious: “I didn’t provoke you, nor offend you.”

“Remember when we met in the bamboo forest, I found your little snake. That was helping you, wasn’t it? I don’t expect anything in return, but at least be a little friendlier.”

“For example, just now, if you were tired and wanted to rest, you could have told me—”

Clearing her throat, she deliberately lowered her voice to imitate Sima Jing:

“Ranran, it’s late, I want to rest now, can we talk tomorrow?”

“I’m not unreasonable. If you said that, I’d stop talking and sleep peacefully. But why must you say things so coldly?”

Had no one taught him to speak kindly and politely when he was a child?

Her torrent of heartfelt words suddenly filled the dark canopy, plunging them into a long silence.

So silent they could only hear each other’s breathing.

One tense and restrained, the other heavy and slow.

After her outburst, Yun Ran immediately regretted it.

Maybe it was because he had pulled her up when she almost fell, or because now they were lying peacefully chatting in bed, that she let down her guard and forgot he was known as the ruthless “Living Yama King,” cold and cruel, with thousands of venomous snakes, scorpions, and centipedes in the backyard.

She was overconfident.

Daring to lecture him.

What if he lost his temper and released the snakes?

The thought made her spine tingle. She softened her tone:

“Y-Your Highness, I didn’t mean it like that, I…”

“It’s late. I want to rest now. Can we talk tomorrow?”

The man’s cold voice rang suddenly in the canopy, this time with an uncharacteristic stiffness: “Is that acceptable?”

Yun Ran froze.

Then hurriedly replied: “Y-yes, of course!”

“Hmm, then shut up.”

“…”

Silence fell again.

Yun Ran stared at the dark canopy, emotions tangled.

This man was truly… truly…

She thought long and hard but found no words to describe her feelings.

Finally, she stopped worrying about whether the scoundrel in West Market belonged to Jing Prince’s Manor or whether tonight’s consummation ceremony would happen.

She shut her eyes tightly, pulled the covers close, and rolled inward—

Her wedding night!

Sleep!

**

The next morning, faint sunlight filtered in.

The dragon-phoenix wedding candles still burned, their holders piled high with thick melted wax.

Sima Jing slowly opened his eyes. The canopy’s dim light was unclear, but the air was filled with a strange, sweet fragrance.

He paused for a moment, then his gaze fell onto the bed.

There was another person.

A young lady.

His formally wedded bride according to the six rites.

Though they shared the bed last night, each had their own quilt and didn’t disturb the other.

Now looking over, the chattering young lady from last night had wrapped herself tightly in the quilt, only her disheveled black hair showing— like a scarlet butterfly half-emerged from its cocoon, too tired to fly, lying flat to rest.

Sima Jing stared at the “cocoon” and recalled her frustrated grunts before sleep.

She must have been a little upset.

But soon those grunts turned into light snoring.

Her speed of falling asleep exceeded his expectations.

Perhaps this was what his mother meant by broad-mindedness?

After silently watching for a while, Sima Jing rose and slipped out from under the covers.

As he left, his gaze caught a white handkerchief on the side table.

Though inexperienced in romance, he knew exactly what the pure white silk handkerchief signified—

After the newlyweds leave the room, the bed linens are gathered and the handkerchief is given to a senior female relative to prove the bride’s chastity and the completion of the wedding rites.

Sima Jing frowned at the item.

But…

He raised his eyelids, looked back at the sleeping cocoon inside the canopy.

In the hazy morning light, her face buried in black hair looked pale with a faint blush, as if dreaming something beautiful.

Her arched brows relaxed, revealing an innocent youth.

Enough.

Sima Jing exhaled deeply, turned, picked up the plain handkerchief.

He bit his finger and let a few drops of blood fall onto the cloth.

The bright red quickly spread across the pristine silk, forming small red patches.

Judging it done, he lightly sucked his finger, tossed the handkerchief back onto the sandalwood tray, and left.

–

Not long after Sima Jing left, Yun Ran woke.

She called Qingling over. It was already the hour of Chen (辰时).

Yun Ran exclaimed: “I actually slept until Chen hour!”

No wonder her breath had stayed so steady all night. Apart from the cold winter, she rarely overslept.

Qingling comforted her: “Mistress, don’t worry. When Your Highness left, he specifically instructed to wake you before Si hour.”

“You must have been too tired yesterday, that’s why you overslept today.”

Yun Ran scratched her head, still a little annoyed but knowing there were many tasks ahead, she didn’t waste more time on what couldn’t be undone.

She threw back the covers and climbed out of bed.

Qingling gasped and hurried to support her: “Mistress, please go slowly. This is your first time; you must take it easy.”

“I’m fine. I slept well last night.”

Yun Ran pushed Qingling’s hand away, refusing help. She dressed and put on her shoes, then went straight to the table to pour a large cup of tea.

Qingling watched the light and nimble manner of her young mistress with a stunned look.

In the residence, Madame Zhou, who had married in with her, had warned Qingling the day before: women usually suffer pain their first time, some unable to walk properly the next day, so she must take extra care and support the young mistress while walking.

But Yun Ran…

After gulping down the tea, she realized she must have really overdone it last night, explaining her thirst so early.

Satisfied, she set down the cup and caught Qingling’s hesitant expression.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, walking over.

“Mistress, do you… feel any pain?”

“Pain? Where? My neck?”

Yun Ran pressed her fingers to her neck and smiled: “It hurt a little last night, but you massaged it and I slept again. It doesn’t hurt now.”

Qingling: “…”

It was like nothing at all.

Before Qingling could ask more, Yun Ran was already heading out: “I overslept today. I have to practice quickly, or I’ll be late for the palace audience. That would be terrible.”

Yun Ran hadn’t forgotten the main event.

Langui Mama had told her that on the second day after the wedding, according to custom, she and Prince Jing would go to the palace to pay respects to Empress Dowager Zhao, the emperor, and the empress.

In the afternoon, they’d visit the imperial ancestral temple to offer incense to the Sima family ancestors.

Only then would she officially become a member of the Sima household.

Seeing the young lady now focused, firmly practicing her martial arts with a stable horse stance, Qingling glanced at the neatly stacked wedding handkerchiefs on the tray, brow furrowed.

Could it be that daily practice and boxing meant she was unaffected?

If so, Taiji boxing really was a good thing.

It was a bright, clear autumn day.

Before Yun Ran met her Taihou mother-in-law, the wedding handkerchief was delivered to Empress Dowager Zhao.

After waiting a night for such a clumsy token, the Empress Dowager laughed in exasperation.

Langui Mama’s face darkened, fearing the Empress Dowager would blame the young lady, she quietly advised: “Your Highness, please don’t be angry. It’s only the first night. As long as the Princess Consort is safe and healthy, the prince and she are both in their prime, the time will come.”

“I’m not angry; I’m not angry at all.”

Empress Dowager Zhao picked up the spotless white handkerchief and looked closely at the clear bloodstains on the edge, chuckling:

“Langui, tell me, whose blood is this?”

Langui Mama glanced and stammered, afraid to answer.

“You’re getting more cautious with age.”

The Empress Dowager smiled and tossed the handkerchief aside, slowly smoothing her emerald sleeves: “How about a wager?”

“Hm? Let’s bet on whose idea this was— the prince’s, or the bride’s?”

“…”

Involving their masters’ private matters, Langui Mama dared not bet.

But having served Empress Dowager Zhao for many years, she noticed the Taihou was clearly not angry but rather pleased.

Just then, a young eunuch reported outside the flower hall: “Taihou, Prince Jing and the Princess Consort have come to pay respects.”

“Good. Let them in.”

Empress Dowager Zhao straightened up, touched the red-gold hairpin in her hair, and exchanged a glance with Langui Mama.

Langui Mama understood and quickly took the tray with the wedding handkerchief out of the back hall.

Soon, Sima Jing and Yun Ran arrived.

Seeing the newlywed couple enter side by side, the Empress Dowager’s smile deepened.

The prince was majestic and handsome; the bride radiant and graceful.

Indeed a perfect match made in heaven.

As they bowed to pay respects, the bride raised her delicate sleeves, showing flawless white hands.

The groom, however, held one fist, covering it with the other palm.

The Empress Dowager’s smile grew deeper.

See? A mother knows her son well.

She had said he would like her.