"Madam, it's time to do your hair," Xia Zhu reminded softly.
He Siyu took a step back, casually making room for her before lazily turning away to change his clothes inside.
Only after watching him leave did Sang Ning sit stiffly in front of the dressing mirror.
As Xia Zhu combed her hair, she hesitated before asking, "Madam, should we use this hair ribbon...?"
Sang Ning snapped out of her thoughts, realizing she was still clutching the ribbon in her hand.
She absolutely refused to use his ribbon!
She immediately tossed it into the drawer. "No."
Half an hour later, Sang Ning finished dressing.
He Siyu was already waiting in the outer room, sipping tea. He glanced up as she stepped out.
Her hair was styled in a low, elegant bun, adorned with two rows of pearl-tasseled hairpins, exuding grace and refinement. She wore a flowing red gown with wide sleeves, simpler than yesterday’s wedding dress but still striking, her slender waist cinched delicately, the hem swaying lightly with each step.
His fingers tightened slightly around the teacup, his dark eyes deepening.
Once again, he regretted wasting time quarreling with her yesterday.
Her expression had returned to calm composure as she approached him, her voice steady. "Third Master, let’s go."
He snapped out of his thoughts and averted his gaze.
"Eat something first. There might not be time later—after paying respects with tea, we still have to enter the family registry."
She hesitated. "But it’s getting late..."
Today was the first day after the wedding, when the bride was expected to serve tea to the elders. The He Family’s seniors were surely waiting.
"It’s fine. Just say I overslept." His tone was indifferent, but his fingers curled slightly on the table, tapping twice. "We’ll eat first."
Since he insisted, she didn’t argue. Let him take the blame.
Her husband might be an unruly scoundrel, but scoundrels had their uses.
She sat at the round table, where a bowl of osmanthus and honey date porridge awaited her, along with a spread of jade-green sugar cakes, delicate silver-thread pastries, emerald dumplings, and sweet bean paste buns—all her favorites.
She hadn’t brought her own cook. How did the He Family’s kitchen know her tastes?
She glanced at He Siyu, who was sipping his porridge with a frown. Too sweet, too cloying.
Only she would enjoy such sickly-sweet things.
He set the bowl down and met her gaze. "What?"
She quickly looked away, focusing on her own bowl. "Nothing."
She took a spoonful and savored the sweetness, sighing in contentment.
When she looked up again, He Siyu had already set down his chopsticks.
She blinked. "Third Master, are you finished?"
He’d barely eaten two mouthfuls.
"Not hungry today," he said flatly.
"Is the food not to your liking?" she asked politely.
"Too sweet."
Sang Ning suppressed a frown. So fussy.
She took another spoonful. The He Family’s cook was skilled—she finished half the bowl and sampled the other dishes.
He Siyu sat beside her, not eating, just watching her enjoy each bite.
Suddenly, he felt a little hungry.
After a while, Sang Ning wiped her lips with a handkerchief.
"I’m done."
Just as she stood, he said, "I’m not."
Sang Ning: ???
"You said you weren’t hungry."
His tone was lazy. "I’m not. But my stomach is empty."
Was he trying to pick a fight?
She took a deep breath, forcing patience. "Then have the kitchen prepare something fresh after the tea ceremony—"
He picked up her half-finished bowl and took a sip. "This one’s fine. I’ll manage."
She stared. Wasn’t it the same porridge?
Confused, she glanced at Fusheng behind him, who quickly explained, "Perhaps the cook added too much sugar to the Third Master’s bowl by mistake."
Sang Ning didn’t bother arguing. "We really are running late—"
Before she finished, He Siyu tipped the bowl back, gulping it down in one go, then stood. "Let’s go."
Sang Ning: "..."
Such a brute...
He Siyu strode ahead, and Sang Ning hurried after him.
Xiangcao, waiting at the door, rushed forward and curtsied. "This servant greets the Master and Madam."
But He Siyu walked right past her without a glance.
Once outside, he realized Sang Ning wasn’t keeping up and slowed until her footsteps drew closer.
In the main hall, Old Madam sat at the head of the room, flanked by the marquis and his wife on the right, and He Xingzhou, his wife, He Jinxing, and his wife on the left.
A maid announced, "The Third Master and Third Madam have arrived."
Old Madam nodded. "Let them in."
He Siyu and Sang Ning entered side by side.
For once, He Siyu behaved, clasping his hands respectfully. "Grandmother, Father, Mother, I’ve brought my wife to pay respects."
Sang Ning followed half a step behind, bowing gracefully.
Old Madam studied her—a poised and dignified girl, just as reputed. Satisfied, she nodded slightly.
Lady Guo smiled. "Serve the tea."
A maid brought the tray forward. Sang Ning lifted a cup with both hands, presenting it first to Old Madam. Her posture was impeccable, her voice serene. "Grandmother, please have some tea."
Old Madam had heard of the Xie Family’s eldest daughter’s virtues, and now, seeing her in person, she was pleased. A true noble lady, flawless in etiquette.
She had worried most about He Siyu’s marriage—he had always been unruly, and his antics to secure this match had been outrageous. But now, seeing the bride, her fears eased.
After drinking, Old Madam set the cup down. "Now that you’re wed, support each other and live well."
Sang Ning answered softly, "Yes."
Old Madam studied her, inexplicably feeling a growing fondness.
With a warm smile, she slipped a jade bracelet onto Sang Ning’s wrist and patted her hand. "Good child, my third grandson is a troublemaker. If he ever bullies you, tell me."
Sang Ning’s lashes fluttered. Meeting Old Madam’s kind gaze, her eyes brightened with a hint of youthful delight. "Yes."
Next, Sang Ning served tea to the marquis and his wife.
Old Madam was satisfied, the bride was beyond reproach, and the marquis had no complaints either. He drank and handed her a red envelope.
Then came greetings to the elder brothers and their wives, who also presented gifts.
After the tea ceremony, they proceeded to the ancestral hall to enter the family registry.
Kneeling on the cushion, Sang Ning bowed three times, solemn and precise.
He Siyu knelt beside her, glancing sideways at her focused little face—porcelain skin lightly powdered, her slender neck exposed like a proud swan’s.
She did everything seriously.
Worshipping ancestors seriously. Eating seriously. Even watching those ridiculous dramas seriously.
Only in bed does he never seem focused.
His throat moved slightly, his eyes darkening with regret—he shouldn’t have wasted last night arguing with her.
