What kind of process should a wedding follow?
Among the three people present, none had ever been married before, so they decided to keep things as simple as possible. After bowing to heaven and earth, and then to Fang Songhe, who acted as the "elder," the ceremony was considered complete.
There were no guests, no red candles, and not much liveliness, yet Chu'he felt that at this moment, everything was perfectly arranged.
When the young man lifted the red veil, their eyes met, and both felt an inexplicable thunderous heartbeat.
Chu'he sat on the bed, touching her face as she asked, "Why are you staring at me like that?"
Ninth's ears turned red—perhaps from the effects of the wine—as he murmured, "Chu'he, you're beautiful."
"Am I?" She lowered her head, fiddling with the hem of her clothes, her fingers twisting nervously. "I look the same as always. The conditions were limited, so I couldn’t even properly dress up."
Ninth's gaze flickered, and unconsciously, he also gripped his own clothes. He whispered again, "Chu'he is beautiful."
He couldn’t quite pinpoint what was different about Chu'he now compared to before, only that she seemed exceptionally lovely.
Her hair was beautiful, her eyes were beautiful, her lips were beautiful—even the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed seemed delicately outlined, utterly captivating.
In the flickering candlelight, every inch of her skin was bathed in a soft glow, as if something had quietly ignited. The faint fragrance drifting in the air made his heart itch with longing.
Under his gaze, Chu'he's face inexplicably grew warm. She turned away. "Stop looking at me like that."
"Okay."
Ninth responded slowly, but his eyes didn’t budge an inch. He had learned to feign obedience—agreeing with his words while doing the opposite.
Chu'he couldn’t take it anymore and pulled him down to sit beside her.
Ninth quickly seized her retreating hand, turning to face her with bright, eager eyes. His fingertips lightly traced the back of her hand, as if confirming the reality of her touch.
Chu'he felt a tickling sensation and tried to pull her hand free, but failed. For some reason, her nervousness only intensified.
Ninth, however, remained oblivious to her tension. To him, now that they were married, Chu'he was his wife. They could lie in bed together as they always had, sleep as they always had—and if they wanted intimacy, then they could have intimacy.
Suddenly, Chu'he muttered, "I found a book under the bed."
Ninth’s expression shifted.
Chu'he pulled out a blue-covered book from beneath the pillow and flung it in front of him. "Is this the Three Character Classic you told me you were studying?"
"I… I…" Ninth’s eyes darted around, but he couldn’t muster a coherent response.
The book’s cover read, The Dashing Swordsman and the Seven-Day Passion with Widow Li from the Village—clearly not a respectable read.
Chu'he frowned sternly. "Where did you even get this book?"
After a long pause, Ninth admitted, "Back at the House of Tender Delights, when you were dividing the silver notes and gems… I picked it up."
"So it was back then!" Chu'he turned to face him fully, grabbing a lock of his white hair. "Ninth, you’ve learned to hide things from me!"
Ninth felt guilty but couldn’t help muttering, "You stuffed all that money into your own purse. Can’t I hide just one book?"
Then, he got kicked.
Seeing the fire in her eyes, he shrank back. "Fine, fine. I’ll throw it away."
Chu'he yanked the book out of reach. "Since you found it, it must be fate. No need to rush to discard it."
Ninth was confused.
Chu'he cleared her throat, putting on a serious tone. "This book is a rare edition—very valuable!"
"Rare edition?"
She pinched her fingers together. "Look, this version is this thick, but the ones sold outside are this thin. Do you know what that means?"
Ninth shook his head. "No."
"It means this is the uncensored version!" Chu'he’s voice brimmed with excitement. "When this story was first published, it became wildly popular. There were rumors that the author’s original manuscript was the most… spirited and complete. I searched everywhere for it but never found it—who knew Master Jin had it, and now it’s ended up in your hands!"
Ninth listened, only half-understanding, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "So… Chu'he reads indecent things too?"
Her smile vanished. "This is scholarship. It’s different from your mind, which is full of impure thoughts."
She had always been stubborn, taking advantage of his naivety to twist logic and turn black into white.
For Chu'he, fooling Ninth was often as easy as pie.
But today, Ninth seemed different.
His fingers entwined with hers, tentative and lingering, his rosy eyes stealing glances at her again and again.
"Chu'he."
She hummed in response. "Hmm?"
"I want to do the things in the book with you… Can I?"
The illustrations, in Chu'he’s eyes, were crude and unrefined—hardly interesting. But to the young man, the tangled figures on the page seemed to burn with a strange fire, leaving him restless.
Chu'he looked up at him.
His lashes fluttered, casting delicate shadows. "Like it says in the book… I want to sway with you, to lose ourselves together."
Chu'he’s heartbeat lost its usual rhythm.
Back when he was learning to read, she had thought he was cultivating a studious spirit—only to realize now that he had been waiting for this moment.
But Ninth’s literacy was still patchy. He only vaguely sensed there was something even more delightful they could share, yet he didn’t know exactly how.
The more people they encountered on their journey, the harder it became for him to admit to Chu'he that whenever she kissed him, held him, or even just looked at him, that urgent, tingling sensation grew stronger.
He had tried relieving it himself in secret, but every time, the emptiness afterward only deepened.
This was Chu'he’s first time facing such a moment. She felt shy too, but then she thought—she was the one who had decided to marry him. Now that they’d come this far, what reason was there to hesitate?
Were they just going to have a wedding without a wedding night?
Such dawdling wasn’t her style.
So, gritting her teeth, she pushed him onto the bed and climbed over him.
Ninth lay there obediently, offering no resistance, his glistening eyes fixed on her. For once, he was utterly pliant—as if silently inviting her to "toy" with him to her heart’s content.
