At the mention of their wedding night, A Mei’s thoughts drifted far away. As she carefully recalled it, comparing it to the present made it all feel strangely unreal.
From An Sheng’s perspective, he saw A Mei suddenly curl up in his arms, her lips pursed as she sulked in silence.
An Sheng froze for a moment. Naturally, he too remembered what he had done to A Mei on the day they were wed.
A flicker of pain and tenderness crossed his face. Yet he felt no regret, because he knew that even if time were turned back, with his temperament, he would never choose differently. He would still be the same cold-blooded, selfish, wretched An Sheng.
But now, seeing the aggrieved little expression on A Mei’s face in his arms, An Sheng’s heart clenched. He immediately held her tighter and asked carefully, “Do you still blame me for treating you that way back then, A Mei?”
His question caught A Mei off guard. She thought about it, then decisively shook her head. After a while, she spoke in a soft, sweet voice. “Back then, you were fierce with me even when we drank the nuptial wine. You even took out that box to bully me. If I hadn’t understood nothing at the time, I surely would have been terrified. And it hurt so much—I even bled.”
In fact, when their feelings had begun to deepen, A Mei had once brought this up while they were talking about marital intimacy, accusing An Sheng of it.
At the time, An Sheng had answered, “A Mei, the first time always hurts. It won’t hurt after that. I truly was rough with you the first time, and I apologize. But it won’t happen again. I cherish you too much to ever bear letting you suffer pain again.”
And over all this time, that was indeed how he had treated her.
Yet hearing those words again now made An Sheng’s heart tighten. Eager to comfort her and apologize, afraid that she might brood over it and feel wronged, he hurriedly began, “A Mei, listen to me—”
“But!” A Mei interrupted him.
Then, with complete seriousness, she said, “Husband, although those things are true, when I think about them now, I truly don’t feel wronged. I was meant to marry you, after all. Those things were only natural and proper. Besides, we had only just begun living together then, and we didn’t love each other yet. Neither of us enjoyed it at the time. You did it that way more because you wanted to consummate our marriage and make A Mei truly your woman. So, thinking it over carefully, there really was nothing wrong with it. A Mei truly doesn’t feel wronged anymore.”
“Husband, don’t you think I’m right?”
An Sheng was silent for a long while.
Just as A Mei began to wonder why he still had not answered her—
An Sheng moved. A Mei only felt him pull her close and press a fierce kiss to her forehead. The kiss was possessive and wild, but his voice was soft and gentle as he said, “Yes. My wife is absolutely right.”
“But, my lady… whenever I think of how pitiful, innocent, and helpless you were back then, and how poorly I treated you, I cannot help but feel an indescribable regret—a heartbreak,” An Sheng said slowly.
His dark eyes held endless depth as he gazed intently at A Mei. Then he lifted a hand, his fingertips brushing her cheek so lightly they were almost imperceptible, making her shiver. His fingers drifted down to her chin, caressing her smooth skin with deliberate tenderness. A gentle curve touched his lips as he spoke in a low, seductive voice that stirred the soul.
“My lady, I remember that red wedding dress is still there. Will you wear it for me again tonight? Let me make up for the regret in my heart. When I return, I’ll have the servants decorate our bedchamber with red silk. It will surely have a charm of its own. My treasure, will you?”
The moment his words fell, A Mei blushed as red as the silk he had described, from head to toe.
Still, A Mei did not agree to An Sheng’s insistence on recreating their wedding night for her.
This was what she said: “Oh, husband, we’re already an old married couple. Why would we need a wedding night? People would laugh at us if they heard. No, no—I don’t want to.”
Yet after bathing, she fetched the bright-red bridal gown her godfather had prepared for her from the bottom of a chest and put it on. Then she sat obediently by the bed, waiting for An Sheng.
An Sheng had some official business to attend to and had not bathed with A Mei. When he finally returned to their room after bathing later that evening, he looked up and saw a flash of vivid red beside the bed.
His eyes widened, and he froze where he stood.
Only after a long while did he begin walking toward A Mei again. At last, he stopped before the bed and stared at her without moving.
His gaze roamed freely over her, his eyes filled with undisguised desire and passion, like a blazing fire that meant to consume her whole.
A Mei shyly lifted her eyes to meet his, only to tremble all over beneath the brilliance of those dark eyes, so full of possessiveness and hunger. Suddenly overcome with embarrassment, she averted her gaze and turned her face to one side, saying bashfully, “Since you wish to see it, husband, then I’ll wear it for you.”
The candlelight flickered in the room. As An Sheng looked upon his sweet, obedient little wife—the only person in the world who unconditionally allowed him to receive and claim such tenderness—his love, pity, and contentment swelled to an unprecedented height.
His hand trembled as he slowly reached for A Mei, easing her down onto the bed. Then, little by little, he loosened the skirt of her gown.
The scarlet bridal dress fell carelessly across the bed.
For a moment, the vivid red and delicate white set off the graceful curves of her lovely figure.
An Sheng’s eyes reddened at the sight.
When he spoke again, his voice was naturally hoarse beyond recognition.
“A Mei, having married you in this life, I could die without a single regret.”
A Mei grew even more embarrassed beneath his burning gaze. She could not help reaching for the quilt to cover herself, but An Sheng firmly pulled it away in one swift motion.
She was so shy and overwhelmed that her delicate, lovely face flushed crimson. Unable to resist, she cast An Sheng a sidelong glance and let out a soft, coquettish hum.
“Everything my husband says about A Mei is so embarrassing. A Mei is only an ordinary woman—how could I possibly be worthy of such solemn praise from my husband?”
But An Sheng was utterly serious.
“No, A Mei. From the moment you married into our family, you became worthy of all the goodness we could give you—and of every good thing in this world.”
“Here and now, I, An Sheng, swear to Heaven that I will devote everything I have to protecting you for the rest of my life.”
A Mei’s eyes shimmered, her resolve just as firm.
“A Mei and my husband will follow each other through life and death. We will never part.”
With that, An Sheng leaned over her and kissed her fiercely.
When the kiss finally ended, the two clasped their fingers together. Just as they were lost in passion, An Sheng suddenly spoke:
“I, An Sheng, have spent my whole life dwelling in the mud and mire. This world was never meant to bring me joy.”
An Sheng gazed deeply into her eyes.
Then, slowly, he said:
“But, A Mei, you came into my life.”
……
