After the incident on the street, Chu Ruoyan was somewhat distracted during the subsequent rituals—stepping out of the sedan chair, crossing the fire basin, passing over the saddle, and bowing to heaven and earth.
It wasn’t until the officiant’s declaration of “the ceremony is complete” and the lively clamor around her urging the “removal of the fan” that she snapped back to reality.
Yan Zheng ignored the teasing voices, bypassing the red silk ribbon to directly take his bride’s hand.
Step by step, he led her steadily to the meticulously prepared bridal chamber.
“Come on, let us see the bride’s face!”
“Yes, it’s time to remove the fan!”
“Remove the fan! Remove the fan!”
The noise outside the chamber hadn’t faded when Yan Zheng gently grasped her wrist holding the fan and said softly, “Lower it now.”
Chu Ruoyan’s heart raced as she withdrew the fan, the sudden light stinging her eyes.
But in the next moment, the man shifted to shield her from the glare.
She lifted her gaze. His crimson robes were edged in gold, a sash cinched at his waist, accentuating his broad shoulders and slender frame. His ink-black eyes and finely sculpted lips seemed even more striking today.
“Handsome!”
The words slipped out before she could think, pure and unfiltered.
Yan Zheng, gazing at the woman he had longed for day and night, could only think of four words: peerless beauty.
Unable to resist, he pulled her slender waist closer and whispered in her ear, “Wait for me to return.”
The woman nodded obediently. As the footsteps outside faded, the chamber fell into silence.
She retrieved two pills from her sleeve, recalling the old healer’s stern warning with a quiet laugh. “This is the first and last wedding of my life. Surely I’m allowed a little recklessness…”
She swallowed the pills, and suddenly, faint footsteps approached.
Before she could react, a pair of small, soft hands covered her eyes. “Guess who?”
Chu Ruoyan smiled. “It must be our little gentleman, Yan Wenjing, right?”
The boy behind her broke into a wide grin, scrambling in front of her. “Auntie, you’re the smartest person in the world!”
Staring at his beaming face, she was inexplicably reminded of her first wedding into the Yan Family.
Back then, this child had also sneaked into her chamber at night, demanding to know if she liked his uncle.
Who would have thought that after all this time, she’d return here, and fate would bring him back to her bridal chamber once more?
Yan Wenjing blinked. “Auntie, I bet you’re thinking about the first time we met!”
Chu Ruoyan froze. The little one grinned, revealing a row of white teeth. “I’m right! So, Auntie, I’ll ask you again—‘Do you like my uncle?’ And no lying this time!”
He clasped his hands behind his back, mimicking an adult’s stern tone.
Her heart ached inexplicably. “I do… very much…”
“This time it’s real! I can tell! That’s wonderful, Auntie! I like you too! You have to stay with Uncle and me forever, never leave!”
The mischievous little boy shed his playful facade, revealing pure, earnest joy.
Yan Wenjing planted a loud kiss on her cheek before darting away.
Chu Ruoyan sat quietly for a long time before murmuring, “I want to stay with you too… forever…”
But no sooner had she spoken than a knock came at the window.
She hurried over to find Young Master Lang passing her a paper packet. “The finest sedative. Remember to take the antidote first.”
She nodded, accepting it. “Were you seen?”
He scoffed. “Do you take me for a fool? His shadow isn’t here. Nothing will go wrong.”
Relieved—knowing the shadow was still watching Rong Su at the Rong residence—she pressed her lips together. “Thank you.”
After a pause, he muttered, “Don’t regret this.”
She tucked the packet away. “Go prepare.”
As Young Master Lang left, footsteps echoed in the courtyard. Yan Zheng was back!
Unlike their first wedding, he hadn’t spent the night drinking. In fact, he’d barely touched a drop.
Meng Yang trailed behind, chuckling. “To avoid the toasts, the young master summoned all the heavy drinkers from the barracks. They’re keeping Lord Gu and the others happily occupied…”
Chu Ruoyan laughed, only to see Yan Zheng shoo everyone out and shut the door.
He strode to the bed and sat down stiffly, uncharacteristically nervous.
“You—”
“You—”
They spoke at the same time. Yan Zheng yielded. “You first.”
She steadied herself. “You’ve worked hard.”
Preparing such a grand wedding feast.
His lips quirked. “It was my duty.” Under the lamplight, her almond eyes, delicate nose, and rosy lips left him breathless. He felt drunk without a single sip.
When her soft arms reached for him, he flinched back.
“?”
Her questioning look made the usually composed chief counselor stumble over his words. “I—I should bathe first. I reek of wine. Don’t want to bother you.”
She smiled. “Alright. I’ll wait.”
Yan Zheng shook his head, as if to clear it, before retreating to wash.
By the time he returned, her phoenix crown and bridal robes were neatly placed by the bed.
Never in his life—not even on the battlefield—had he felt this tense.
Chu Ruoyan bit back a laugh.
Before their reunion, this man had seized every chance to tease her.
Yet now that they were wed, he was oddly restrained.
Not bothering to point out that he’d climbed into bed still dressed, she simply said, “Wenjing came earlier…”
“Oh? What did he want?”
“He asked if I liked you.”
Yan Zheng stilled, his expression grave. She smiled. “I told him… I like you very much.”
Joy eclipsed his nerves, igniting like wildfire. He pulled her into his arms.
“Your clothes—” she protested.
But he was beyond caring. With a tug, he used his inner strength to send the garments flying.
The scars covering his body were laid bare again. Yan Zheng stiffened, reaching to snuff out the candles.
Her gentle hand stopped him. “It’s alright. I want to see.”
He frowned. “They’re ugly…”
She laughed. “Ugly or not, you’re my husband. Every part of you is mine.”
His gaze burned. Crushing her to his chest, he buried his face in her hair, inhaling the sweet osmanthus fragrance. “Ruoyan…” His voice was rough. “To have you as my wife… I am blessed beyond measure.”
Her body trembled as she traced a finger over his heart.
“My heart is the same…”
Those words shattered his last shred of control. He pushed aside the pillow, laying her down with care before leaning in—starting from her brows, her eyes, then lower…
Chu Ruoyan felt dizzy, as if intoxicated or seasick.
The light blurred, her body melting under his touch.
Until his voice, thick with emotion, washed over her like a gentle tide:
“Ruoyan… may I?”
She could no longer see anything clearly. In her blurred vision, only his eyes remained vivid—dark as ink, profound as the night, fixed unwaveringly on her, and her alone...
"Alright..."
She pushed herself up and pressed her lips to the corner of his mouth, sealing this promise into his very breath.
In that fleeting moment, their meeting was like the golden wind embracing the jade dew—a bliss beyond all mortal joys.
