Yao Huang leaned against Prince Hui’s shoulder, her thin eyelids fluttering closed, yet she could still feel the soft glow emanating from the lotus candle stand across from the arhat bed.
In the heavy silence of the night, her uneven breathing mingled with the rustle of Prince Hui’s hand moving against the kossu silk fabric. Yao Huang knew he was watching her, his gaze as focused as when he painted her portrait.
She hoped she still looked beautiful at this moment, but she was losing control of her voice. Clasping his hand, she pleaded in a low whisper, "Your Highness, let us go to the bed."
Zhao Sui did not respond, nor did he release his hold.
In a daze, Yao Huang recalled that he had once suggested doing it here, but she had refused. Now that this man had gone through the effort of moving to the arhat bed, how could he possibly give up so easily?
Realizing there was no escaping it tonight, Yao Huang turned her head to look toward the inner chamber door. It was left slightly ajar; with the light inside and the darkness outside, if Bailing were to approach the door...
Yao Huang managed to squeeze out a strained voice, "Fine, we shall stay here. But will Your Highness let me go hang a garment to block the view?"
Zhao Sui stopped his movements and looked into her darting eyes. "You are not allowed to blow out the lamp," he said.
Yao Huang almost cursed him as a "rogue."
With trembling limbs, she stepped onto the floor and took a long skirt from the wardrobe. Treading softly to the door, she found she could hang it on the brackets on either side of the door bolt, but the space was too narrow. The skirt could only cover the bottom half of the door gap; anything from the waist up remained exposed, and the upper door panels were bare with nothing to hang things on.
Yao Huang tilted her head, measuring the distance from the arhat bed to the door. Realizing that the sound would travel straight through, she steeled her heart and pulled the door open.
A single lamp remained lit in the side room. A bedroll was spread on the floor, and Bailing was slumped over the table, dozing pitifully.
Yao Huang cleared her throat.
Bailing sat bolt upright. Seeing the Princess Consort and remembering the instructions from before bed, she stood up and asked, "Has the Prince finished the painting? Do you require water?"
There was a basin of fresh water in the room and a pot of warm water. Yao Huang didn't have the heart to bother Bailing and the kitchen maids in the middle of the night. She said, "No need. You... move your bedding to the main hall."
Bailing realized what was happening, her face flushing crimson. She gave a quick "Understood" and hurriedly gathered her bedding to leave, leaving the Princess Consort standing there with eyes full of complicated emotions.
With no eavesdropping ears behind the wall, Yao Huang dropped the door bolt. She turned to see Prince Hui on the arhat bed, actually picking up the novel she had tossed aside and leaning against the bolster, pretending to read. Seeing this, Yao Huang felt less rushed and walked over to the easel to look at her portrait.
With one look, Yao Huang was actually captivated by her own image in the painting. What was painted with pigments was certainly different from what was reflected in a mirror, but the woman sleeping on the bed under Prince Hui’s brush was instantly recognizable as the Princess Consort. Ink lines traced two delicate brows, cinnabar marked the curves of her red lips, and a faint wash of rouge bloomed upon her cheeks.
The entire painting, from the person to the hem of her skirt, exuded a sense of languid beauty.
"Do you like it?"
Yao Huang looked up and met Prince Hui’s gaze. She pointed to the corners of her mouth, which she couldn't stop from curling upward, letting him see for himself.
Zhao Sui said, "Take it down and place it on the table. Let it dry flat; I will have someone mount and frame it tomorrow."
Yao Huang carefully removed the paper from the easel. Before placing it on the table, she meticulously checked the surface to ensure there were no traces of water.
Once it was laid out, Yao Huang gazed at it once more before returning to the arhat bed. Lowering her head, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and whispered shyly, "For the sake of that painting, I will obey you in everything tonight."
Embraced face-to-face, it was the first time Yao Huang had been so close to Zhao Sui’s face—so close that a slight tilt of her head would send her falling into his eyes.
Zhao Sui had the bolster and the bed railing behind him, but he did not want to lean back. He braced one hand against the cool bamboo mat to maintain his balance while the other reached for her lapel.
Yao Huang turned her face away.
Zhao Sui reminded her, "You must handle your inner trousers yourself."
Yao Huang’s eyelashes fluttered even more violently as he added, "Including mine."
Imagining that scene, Yao Huang immediately shrank back. She used the reason that had been weighing on her heart: "It is better to lie down. I am afraid of hurting Your Highness’s legs."
She always felt that the Prince’s legs were more fragile than a normal person's and needed to be treated with care—they could not be pressed or struck.
At any other time, Zhao Sui might have overthought the Princess Consort’s words. At this moment, he didn't care, though it was just as well to let her be a little afraid; a timid Princess Consort was more willing to cooperate with him.
And so, Yao Huang heard the Prince’s voice turn dull and lifeless: "They won't get any worse than they are now."
Yao Huang was speechless.
She was wrong. She shouldn't have mentioned his legs or them being "bad." The Prince must have been stung by her careless words, causing him to turn cold.
Yao Huang looked at him apprehensively. "Your Highness, I didn't mean it."
Zhao Sui replied, "I know."
After a brief silence, Zhao Sui continued what he was doing, and Yao Huang simply closed her eyes, not daring to utter another word.
As it turned out, Prince Hui’s legs were indeed not made any worse by her, but Yao Huang’s knees had turned red from prolonged contact with the bamboo mat.
While she was busy, Yao Huang hadn't noticed any discomfort, but once it was over and she could finally move away, the shift caused her to cry out in pain.
Zhao Sui was leaning back against the bolster, his upper body supported by the bed frame. Hearing her voice, he looked down and caught sight of her raised left knee; it was a vivid red, startling against the surrounding snow-white skin.
Zhao Sui immediately sat up and pulled her to his side, carefully inspecting both her lower legs. Fortunately, the manor’s bamboo mats were finely woven and smooth, so the Princess Consort’s skin hadn't been broken.
Even so, Yao Huang felt aggrieved. As she grabbed her inner robe and trousers to cover herself, she grumbled softly, "I said we should go to the bed, but Your Highness insisted on being here. You are comfortable, but I am the one suffering."
During those final fifteen minutes, Zhao Sui had indeed only thought of himself. Avoiding her gaze, he said, "In the future, I will listen to you. There is ointment in the manor; have a maid fetch it."
Yao Huang was both shy and annoyed. "And let everyone know exactly what we were doing?"
Zhao Sui had no answer to that.
Yao Huang pressed on the reddest part of her knee. After a few moments, the pain began to subside. She let out a sigh of relief. "If I sleep quietly for the rest of the night, it should be fine by morning."
Having said that, she stole a glance at the still-exposed Prince Hui. When things were intense, she hadn't dared to look, but now...
Zhao Sui promptly pulled up his inner trousers.
Yao Huang felt both envious and annoyed. It was so simple for the Prince to just pull them down and up, unlike her, who had to find all her clothes and put them back on piece by piece every time.
"I am going down now. Your Highness, turn away."
Zhao Sui cooperatively turned his head.
Yao Huang shakily dressed herself, then picked up the water pot to prepare two basins of warm water. She carried one to the arhat bed for the Prince and took the other to the washroom for herself.
By the time she came out, Zhao Sui had finished cleaning up and was already seated in his wheelchair. Yao Huang pushed him back to the large canopy bed, where the husband and wife lay at opposite ends, a clear boundary between them.
The lamp had been extinguished, but the scenes from the arhat bed still flickered in Yao Huang’s mind. Although it wasn't exactly what the lady official had taught her, it wasn't far off—it was just that the Prince had leaned against a bolster instead of lying flat, and ninety-nine percent of the effort had been his.
Pulling the quilt over her head, Yao Huang turned over beneath the covers. It was too embarrassing; the Prince had seen everything so clearly.
"Don't smother yourself," Zhao Sui said, pulling the quilt away from the top of her head.
Yao Huang intentionally pulled back.
Suddenly, Zhao Sui shifted over, tossed the quilt aside, and pulled her into a tight embrace from behind.
Yao Huang panicked for a moment, but once she was certain he had no other intentions, she settled down and let him hold her. Her fingertips traced gently along his powerful arm. "Isn't it magical? We've only known each other for half a month, and yet... we've already reached that stage. Ever since I grew up, even my mother hasn't really helped me wash; A-Ji did everything."
Zhao Sui remained silent, as was his habit.
Yao Huang continued, "What's even more magical is that you're a Prince. Seeing that cold, aloof 'keep away' look you wear during the day, who would have thought that at night, the Prince would also..."
Zhao Sui covered her mouth.
Yao Huang brushed his hand away and turned around to stare at him, insisting on speaking. "What, is the Prince brave enough to do it but not brave enough to admit it?"
Zhao Sui replied, "Keep talking, and you'll be crying again in a moment."
Yao Huang: "..."
She stealthily increased the distance between them.
Zhao Sui lay back in his original spot. "Go to sleep. We'll check the situation early tomorrow morning. If it affects your walking, we'll have to find an excuse to skip the palace banquet."
Yao Huang immediately settled down to sleep obediently.
With things on her mind, Yao Huang woke up the moment Zhao Sui sat up at dawn. Ignoring him, she first pulled back the quilt and rolled up her inner trouser legs.
Zhao Sui was also concerned about this, and his gaze fell upon two fair, well-proportioned calves and ten toenails painted a brilliant crimson.
A fair palm suddenly blocked his eyes. "You aren't allowed to look."
Thinking of the palace banquet, Zhao Sui silently moved himself into his wheelchair.
After having breakfast at Mingan Hall, Zhao Sui said, "We depart at the end of the Hour of the Dragon. Take your time getting ready."
Yao Huang nodded. She watched Qingai wheel Prince Hui away, wondering what was so great about the Bamboo Courtyard that he insisted on returning there when they had less than an hour left.
Yao Huang first took her four head maids to see the portrait.
A-Ji exclaimed, "It's too beautiful. It's like a fairy has descended to earth."
Bailing agreed, "Yes, it really is lovely."
Chunyan said, "I can just imagine the look in the Prince's eyes when he was painting the Princess Consort. Only someone who truly likes her from the bottom of his heart could paint her so accurately and beautifully."
Qiuchan added, "An entire afternoon plus the evening... by the way, how long did the Prince paint last night?"
Bailing said, "Two hours."
Hearing this, Yao Huang remarked casually, "It wasn't that long. He finished right at the start of the second watch."
Bailing replied, "But I saw the lights in your room were on until nearly the third watch..."
Mid-sentence, Bailing suddenly realized. Although the lights in the inner chamber stayed on from the second watch to the third, that final hour didn't necessarily mean the Prince was still painting the Princess Consort.
In an instant, all four head maids turned beet red.
Yao Huang wanted to slap her own mouth—why did she have to add that extra comment?
Having become familiar with Eunuch Cao, Yao Huang sent for him to arrange the mounting of the painting. After all, it was a portrait for her private chambers, and it wasn't appropriate to give it to the Chief Steward, Guo Shu.
When Eunuch Cao saw the painting, he showered both the Prince and the Princess Consort with extravagant praise.
When it was almost time, a fully dressed and adorned Yao Huang went to the front courtyard. Before long, Qingai indeed wheeled the Prince over. Prince Hui sat in his red sandalwood wheelchair, wearing a crimson silk robe with a black collar. As long as one didn't look at his face, he looked quite festive for the holiday.
The couple boarded the carriage, and Yao Huang could hardly hide her excitement. "Your Highness, besides the feast, are there other celebrations for the Dragon Boat Festival in the palace?"
Zhao Sui replied, "In previous years, there would be dragon boat races. After the feast, we watch the willow shooting and polo."
Yao Huang said, "I've seen dragon boats and polo among the commoners, but what is willow shooting?"
Zhao Sui explained, "Pigeons are placed inside gourds, which are then tied to willow branches. If you hit the gourd, it breaks, and the pigeon flies out. The one whose pigeon flies the highest wins."
Yao Huang said, "Oh, but what if someone is too strong and shoots the pigeon dead with one arrow..."
Zhao Sui said, "The gourds are very light. They sway the moment they are hit, which dissipates the force of the arrow."
Sway...
Yao Huang shot him a glare and turned her head away.
It was only when Prince Hui saw the Princess Consort's cheeks rapidly turning red that he understood why he had been glared at.
