Zhao Sui stood over eight feet tall. Though he had grown thinner after the accident, even seated in a wheelchair, he appeared far more robust than some frail scholars.
His leg, resting near Yao Huang, was beyond his control, causing his upper body to lean heavily against her. To maintain balance, he had to brace his left elbow against her neck while freeing his right hand for other tasks.
A lifetime of martial training had given him broad shoulders, now pressed tightly against Yao Huang. His right shoulder towered slightly above hers, allowing him to easily glimpse her profile—her eyes shut tight, whether from nervousness or bashfulness.
His gaze drifted downward, taking in her smooth, rounded shoulders and the arms folded defensively over her chest.
In that fleeting glance, aside from the crimson silk undergarment, her skin resembled freshly fallen snow.
Returning to her face, he noted a beauty that would stand out even among a crowd of court ladies.
Zhao Sui’s expression darkened, the heat of their contact cooling into something heavier.
Had his legs been whole, he might have claimed such beauty without hesitation. But now? It felt like sullying a peony with mud.
He no longer wished to continue.
Yet the refusal should come from her. As Prince Hui, he couldn’t slight his new bride without cause.
His hand brushed her cheek.
Yao Huang instinctively shrank back. No amount of instruction from the court physician could prepare her for this—being held by a stranger, his eyes likely roaming freely over her. She burned as if trapped in a firestorm, every exhale scalding.
Her flushed face retreated slightly from his palm, yet her back pressed closer to his chest. Through the thin red silk of his undershirt, she felt the steady thud of his heartbeat.
Now, she was trapped between advance and retreat.
Zhao Sui spoke, his tone gentler than before: "If you’re unprepared, we may delay the consummation. I’m in no hurry."
He wanted her to act freely, not out of fear for his royal status.
Yao Huang’s mind raced.
Was "no hurry" genuine, or a cover for incapacity? If the latter, his swift removal of his trousers earlier might’ve been a ruse—one she must play along with, sparing his pride.
Yet when he’d pressed against her, she’d unmistakably felt something akin to the physician’s teaching aids...
In that case, his question was a test: did she disdain him?
Eyes still closed, she whispered, "To wed you is the honor of three lifetimes. I’m ready whenever you decree."
If you can, proceed. If not, I’ll pretend ignorance with you.
Her voice, though soft, held steady—a shy invitation in the intimacy of their wedding night.
After a pause, Zhao Sui touched her face again. This time, she didn’t pull away.
Embers rekindled. His lips traced a path along her shoulder.
Yao Huang trembled lightly.
His breath grew ragged. Shifting his left elbow back, he used his right hand to turn her fully toward him, baring her upper body entirely.
Only when Prince Hui bent his head did Yao Huang dare open her eyes.
Is this marriage?
After a moment’s hesitation, she tentatively embraced him—one palm against his ear, the other threading through his black hair. Oblivious, he worked busily until the undergarment she’d reserved for him was tugged away.
Mortified, Yao Huang barely registered his hand beginning new explorations. Panic surged. She wanted to push him off but didn’t dare. Near tears, she was abruptly rolled onto her side.
She knew: Prince Hui meant to claim her fully now.
The physician’s warning echoed—Don’t resist, lest frustration ignite his temper.
The first attempt was arduous. Both were slick with sweat by the time success came.
And because it was arduous, Prince Hui didn’t pause between waves.
Yao Huang had trained in martial arts alongside her brother since childhood, enduring hardship but never pain. This first time, she wept quietly, unable to stifle it. Let him rage—how dare he torment her so?
But now, his pace had changed. Her whimpers shifted in tone.
Embarrassed yet sensing his approval, she tried to cover her mouth—only for him to seize her wrist.
He was relentless. Even when her pleas cracked, he refused mercy.
By the end, Yao Huang could form no coherent thought. Half-sprawled on the pillows, all that remained were breathless cries of "Prince Hui..."
The bed curtains finally stilled. His full weight pressed against her, his labored breaths mingling with hers.
She realized: he’d exhausted himself too. She was heavier than most women, yet he’d driven her steadily inward with such force.
Just as she feared she might suffocate, his breathing steadied. He shifted back, drawing another shiver from her.
Zhao Sui paused, noting how she buried her face in the pillow. He withdrew his leg, adjusted to lie flat, and draped his undershirt over his waist.
The heat between them had long banished the quilt to a corner.
Yao Huang lingered in boneless languor, but—was he watching her now?
Her current state...
Flustered, she snatched her discarded undergarment and tugged the quilt over herself.
Stealing a glance, she found his eyes closed and relaxed.
Her gaze trailed over his broad shoulders and long legs before she murmured, "Are you cold? Should I cover you?"
Calm restored, Zhao Sui said without opening his eyes, "I’ll bathe. Summon two buckets of hot water—one for each of us."
Yao Huang nodded. "Of course. Let me dress first."
Once clothed, she limped to the bed’s edge, straightened the curtains, and called toward the outer chamber, "Aji?"
Next door, the maids had waited uncertainly—unsure if Prince Hui would need assistance.
As the last guests departed, the manor had fallen silent. Then, faint weeping from the bridal chamber.
Aji stepped forward instinctively.
Huamei yanked her back. "Dare you interrupt His Highness?"
Aji hesitated. Her lady had warned her of tonight’s affairs—unless Yao Huang sounded truly distressed, she mustn’t interfere.
Fortunately, the weeping lasted only minutes before melting into sounds that set their own cheeks aflame.
Aji shooed Huamei and the other three maids outside: "I'll stay here to keep watch. You all go wait in the courtyard."
She was the closest to the princess consort, and the princess consort surely wouldn’t mind her eavesdropping. Whether Huamei and the others could stay would depend on the princess consort’s permission.
Huamei shot her a glare but didn’t insist on staying.
Aji ended up standing guard for a full half-hour, and the princess consort’s voice grew increasingly hoarse!
"I’m here!"
Yao Huang could hear the urgency in Aji’s voice, though she couldn’t fathom what the girl was so anxious about. Had she forgotten to lower her voice? Would she disturb the prince at this late hour?
Glancing back and seeing no movement from the figure behind the bed curtains, Yao Huang instructed, "Have the water room send two buckets of hot water."
Footsteps sounded outside. With nothing else to do for the moment, Yao Huang tested whether her undergarments were still dry. Confirming no further leaks, she tossed them into the laundry basket.
Her legs still weak, Yao Huang sat at the small dressing table by the floor-length mirror. The reflection showed her with disheveled hair and flushed cheeks.
She attempted to mimic the pleading expressions she’d made earlier, but they looked odd now. At least it wasn’t outright ugly—otherwise, Prince Hui, who had watched her the entire time, might have been repelled.
Lost in thought, the water room’s serving matrons arrived with the buckets, which Aji and Huamei then carried into the inner chamber.
With Prince Hui present, Huamei kept her eyes down, strictly observing decorum. Aji, however, worried for her mistress, peeked toward the bed as soon as she entered.
Yao Huang shot her a warning glance about propriety. Watching the two place the buckets by the washstand, Yao Huang said, "Aji will keep watch tonight. The rest of you may retire."
Huamei left first.
Since Prince Hui had made it clear he preferred quiet, Yao Huang dismissed Aji as well.
Once the inner chamber’s door closed again, Prince Hui spoke from within: "Soak a towel, wring it until it stops dripping, and hand it to me."
Yao Huang obeyed, bringing the towel to the bed curtains. A hand reached out: "I’ll handle it myself. You go clean up."
Quick to react, Yao Huang handed over the towel. "Understood. I’ll be in the washroom. Call if you need me, Your Highness."
"Mm."
Yao Huang carried one bucket to the washroom at the far end.
The prince’s status was evident even in this—his washroom was more spacious and pristine than Yao Huang’s own bedchamber back home, lightly scented with elegant incense.
She half-closed the door, stripped, and thoroughly wiped herself down with the damp towel. The air chilled her as she dried, so she hurriedly dressed again.
Returning to the inner chamber, the bed curtains remained drawn, but the red silk trousers previously draped over the wheelchair were gone.
Yao Huang didn’t know how Prince Hui had managed to remove or put on his trousers, nor did he seem inclined to let her see.
After having Aji take away the used water, the night’s duties were finally over.
The bridal quilt was large enough that both prince and consort could lie beneath it with ample space to spare.
Once settled, Yao Huang lay still, listening to Prince Hui’s breathing while replaying the night’s intimacies in her mind.
Compared to their earlier fervor, the silence behind the curtains now unsettled her.
They were husband and wife—she ought to try bridging the distance. Since the prince’s mobility was limited, she should take the initiative.
Resolved, Yao Huang turned toward him with feigned nonchalance, shifting closer until her shoulder brushed his. She draped her left arm lightly over him, resting her cheek against his shoulder. "Your Highness, are you sleepy?"
Zhao Sui: "...Is something wrong?"
Yao Huang: "No, it’s just my first night here. I’m too excited to sleep. If you’re not tired, could we talk?"
Zhao Sui: "About what?"
Yao Huang thought for a moment, studying his profile. "You’re so handsome—that’s why I wanted to marry you. But why did you choose me as your princess consort? My father’s a rough military man, and my etiquette training was worse than the other candidates’. You probably didn’t know that, did you?"
She laid bare her shortcomings upfront, lest Prince Hui expect too much refinement from her.
Zhao Sui: "I told you—among all the candidates, you were the most pleasing to my eye."
Yao Huang smiled. "So we fancied each other at first sight. How lovely."
Zhao Sui’s attention, however, was entirely on his left arm, where an unsettling softness pressed against him.
Yao Huang: "Oh! Emperor Yongchang awarded my family a thousand taels of silver, but the two banknotes you sent weren’t needed. I brought them back—shall I return them to you tomorrow?"
Zhao Sui: "Keep them. I rarely leave the palace, but if you grow bored, you may visit the capital’s shops. Should your funds run low, draw more from the treasury without consulting me."
He wouldn’t force himself to entertain her, nor would he confine her to the palace. Lavishing her with luxuries was compensation enough.
Yao Huang sat bolt upright. "A thousand taels! How long would it take me to spend all that?"
Zhao Sui: "A single high-quality gemstone costs hundreds. If you find pieces you adore, a thousand taels might cover two."
Yao Huang: "...I could never be so wasteful. The hairpins and jewelry from the betrothal gifts are more than enough."
Zhao Sui: "A few sets at best. Worn at this year’s banquets, they’d invite ridicule if reused next year. And unless I misremember, the betrothal included no gemstone pieces."
Yao Huang murmured, "My pearl-and-kingfisher headdress and four-phoenix crown are studded with forty or fifty gemstones combined."
Zhao Sui: "...Those crowns are for formal ceremonies henceforth. They mustn’t be damaged."
Her hopes deflated. She’d assumed the crowns, like her wedding gown, would be stored as keepsakes—freeing her to pry out the gems for dozens of new jewels.
Zhao Sui: "Excluding income from estates and shops, a prince’s annual stipend is five thousand taels; his consort’s, five hundred. That should comfortably cover two gemstone pieces yearly. No need to fret over it."
Learning she’d receive five hundred taels annually atop her lavish dowry, Yao Huang’s eyes sparkled brighter than pearls, her grin irrepressible.
Zhao Sui suddenly understood: this girl might not care for him, but she certainly cherished the prince’s wealth.
Among the three princes, given her background, becoming his primary wife was her only viable path.
"Sleep," he said, closing his eyes. Were it not troublesome, he’d have turned away.
Oblivious to his shift in mood, Yao Huang assumed he was simply weary. Still brimming with joy, she clung to him a while longer before obediently settling down.
.
Bound to his wheelchair, Zhao Sui slept motionlessly—on his back when he drifted off, on his back when he woke.
Dawn had yet to break when consciousness returned.
Since his confinement, his limited mobility left him with little to exhaust him, shortening his sleep. Lying idle tortured both mind and body.
Alone, he’d have risen at will. But observing Yao Huang’s peaceful slumber, he neither wished to rouse her nor endure waiting in discomfort.
As he’d predicted, separate chambers would suit them both.
After a pause, he pushed upright with his arms and threw off the covers.
Yao Huang stirred awake, blinking at his seated figure.
Zhao Sui stated plainly, "Qingai should be here by now. If you’ve no objection, I’ll summon him in."
Yao Huang’s mind conjured the young eunuch’s handsome, unremarkably masculine face.
Yao Huang was not accustomed to letting an outsider see her lying in bed, so she quickly sat up.
Zhao Sui said, "You can go to the washroom first. Return to bed after I leave."
Yao Huang asked, "Do you not need me to attend to you?"
Zhao Sui replied, "No need."
So Yao Huang, wearing only her undergarments, retreated to the washroom.
When Qingai entered, she deftly helped Zhao Sui change his clothes and tied up his hair before assisting him into his wheelchair. Then she left to wash up in the front courtyard.
By then, Yao Huang was no longer sleepy. Glancing at the laundry basket holding Zhao Sui’s discarded clothes, she first put on a fresh underrobe before calling in the maids to assist her.
Today, they were to enter the palace to pay respects to Emperor Yongchang and the imperial consorts. Bailing helped Yao Huang dress in full ceremonial attire, and it wasn’t until they went to the front courtyard for breakfast that she saw Prince Hui again.
Zhao Sui had changed into a set of crimson formal robes, looking quite well, though the familiar lifelessness had returned to his expression.
Once the meal was laid out, Qingai led the maids out of the room.
Seeing him focused on eating, Yao Huang also began her meal unhurriedly.
After finishing, Zhao Sui outlined the day’s arrangements: "First, we’ll go to the palace. Upon returning to the residence, I will accompany you in receiving the household servants’ greetings."
Yao Huang nodded.
Zhao Sui shook a small bell attached to his wheelchair. The bell had a clever mechanism—it only rang when pressed and shaken, remaining silent otherwise no matter how much the wheelchair jostled.
Qingai returned with the maids, and after the couple rinsed their mouths, they set off.
The path from their quarters to the main gate of the princely residence was smooth. Outside, the prince’s grand carriage stood ready, its rear door open with a sturdy ramp securely placed against the edge.
Another attendant, Feiquan, stood inside the carriage wearing only white socks. Qingai positioned the wheelchair with its back to the door and steadily pushed it up the ramp. Once at the top, Feiquan took hold of the wheelchair. The spacious carriage had no main seat—that space was reserved for securing the wheelchair. Yao Huang, after boarding, could only sit on the left side bench, while the right side held a three-tiered rosewood cabinet.
Throughout the process, Prince Hui remained expressionless. Qingai and Feiquan moved in silent deference, while the guards on duty and those accompanying the carriage, like Zhang Yue, stood solemn and resolute.
Aji was so intimidated that she hardly dared to breathe or look around. Yao Huang, however, was more intrigued by the meticulous arrangements made for Prince Hui, mentally noting every detail for future reference.
Feiquan stepped down to let Yao Huang board.
Once seated, Yao Huang smiled at Prince Hui before examining the mechanism that secured the wheelchair inside the carriage.
Zhao Sui watched her.
Understanding his gaze, Yao Huang pointed to a button and asked, "When it’s time to disembark, pressing this will release the wheelchair, correct?"
Zhao Sui gave a faint hum of acknowledgment.
Yao Huang grinned. "Then when we arrive, there’s no need for Feiquan to come up. I’ll push you down myself."
Zhao Sui replied, "Better let Feiquan handle it."
The combined weight of the wheelchair and himself would be too much for her strength.
Knowing he underestimated her, Yao Huang decided she would prove him wrong when the time came.
