Auntie Fangchun was overjoyed. She hurriedly bowed and accepted the order. “This servant will immediately have the bedchamber rearranged. Will Your Highness come to accompany the Princess for dinner tonight?”

Yan Xuecuī heard the person beside him hold her breath for a distinct second. He couldn’t help but purse his lips. “Mm.”

He wanted to see exactly what this Princess—who had proclaimed she would “rather die than marry” and had hidden for over half a month—was truly up to.

* * * 

Chi Ying felt as though she had heard wrong. She stood dazed for a long while before realizing Prince Zhao had actually agreed.

He actually wants to share a room with me?

She returned to Shuyu Pavilion with a heavy head and unsteady steps.

Though she had mentioned the lack of consummation when sending Xiangqin back to the estate, that was merely a tactic to pressure Madam Yin into a decision. She never imagined she would actually have to go through with it.

Her marriage into the Prince’s estate was a transaction. She handled the wedding for Chi Yingyue, and Madam Yin provided medicine for her mother. It was supposed to be simple: Prince Zhao was on the verge of death; she likely wouldn’t even see his face before he passed away.

How did things reach this point?

She had already used the cold as an excuse. She couldn’t keep falling ill. But she had to leave eventually; she couldn’t maintain the mask of Chi Yingyue forever. Deception was never foolproof. Furthermore, the Yin mother and daughter would never allow her to enjoy a lifetime of luxury in their place.

She had a gut feeling she wouldn’t stay here long.

Being an invisible person in the estate was fine. Managing the occasional greeting or conversation was manageable. But to consummate the marriage meant sharing a bed, a true intimacy of husband and wife.

She recalled the drawings in the manual Auntie Fangchun had shown her—the entwined bodies, the fact that Prince Zhao was blind and required her to be “proactive.”

Just thinking about it made her blood surge. Her mind buzzed, and her breathing became shallow.

By the time she reached Shuyu Pavilion, Qingzhi, Yinqiao, and the others were already busy decorating.

Dragon and phoenix wedding candles. Gold-threaded curtains. Mandarin duck quilts. They even laid out a mattress cover embroidered with the “Hundred Children and Thousand Grandchildren” pattern. Within half a day, the bedroom had been transformed into a festive chamber as if it were the actual wedding night.

Chi Ying sat in the side room, mindlessly working on her needlework. Xiangqin and Baoshan came over from the main room, both looking worried.

“Does the Third Lady truly intend to consummate the marriage with Prince Zhao?”

“This servant heard that Prince Zhao is ruthless. No woman ever leaves his bed alive… Should you, perhaps, think of another way?”

Xiangqin had Madam Yin’s orders to prevent Chi Ying from seducing the Prince, but the Prince proposing the move himself was not something they could stop.

Chi Ying felt helpless. “Do I have any other choice? I can delay for a moment, but not forever.”

Having interacted with him for several days, her view of his temperament had shifted slightly, but she had never seen his “bedroom side.” A faint terror lingered in her heart.

In the worst-case scenario, Prince Zhao would use those legendary, cruel methods to torment her. At this thought, Chi Ying turned pale and clenched her fingers.

If it comes to that, I’ll fight to escape. He torments women for pleasure, but surely he won’t slaughter a Princess Consort wed by imperial decree.

At this stage, she was like a person trapped in an invisible vortex, pushed forward by circumstances beyond her control. She could only take it one step at a time.

* * * 

Afternoon, the estate’s kitchen became a whirlwind of activity. This was the first time the Prince and Princess would dine together; no one dared to be negligent. As the sun dipped toward the west, the meticulously prepared dishes were plated and brought to the table.

Prince Zhao indeed arrived.

Standing on the porch, Chi Ying saw him in a white robe with ink-wash patterns. He walked steadily with his bamboo cane, his figure tall and his aura composed. She was suddenly reminded of the ancient verse: Like jade at the base of a mountain, like the green of a standing pine.

As he drew near, she curtsied. Yan Xuecuī heard the clear, cold tinkling of the carnelian tassels at her ears as she moved. It was an exceptionally pleasant sound.

There were stone steps leading up to the porch. Chi Ying hesitated for a moment but did not step forward to help. Yuan De was at his side; he shouldn’t need her.

Yuan De, however, had expected the Princess to be proactive. Seeing her stillness, he moved to take the Prince’s arm, but the Prince blocked his hand and stepped up the stairs on his own.

Yuan De’s spine went cold. The air around him seemed to freeze into ice.

Stealing a glance, he saw that the Prince’s expression was… displeased.

Having served the Prince for years, Yuan De had developed a knack for reading moods. He actually felt this displeasure stemmed from the fact that the Princess hadn’t stepped forward to assist him.

Has the Prince truly developed an interest in her? Dressing wounds, sending earrings, and now moving back from Yangui Tower to share a bed.

Yet the Prince had seen the secret reports. His fingers had even lingered on the words “arrogant and domineering” and “rather die than marry.”

Is tonight’s consummation meant to test her depth?

Or did he truly listen to Consort Zhuang and want an heir?

Yuan De didn’t dare let his thoughts wander further. Suppressing his confusion, he followed them inside to serve.

The round Huanghuali wood table was laden with dishes. Though Yan Xuecuī could not see, the rich aromas filling the air had already reached his nose. He could tell that many of the dishes were arranged according to his former preferences.

However, over the years, his appetite for fine food had faded. Whether it was delicacies from land and sea or simple tea and rice, it was all just food to him.

Blindness affected his hearing and smell, but his sense of taste as well. He could distinguish flavors more clearly than before, but that was all. Sour, sweet, bitter, or spicy brought him no pleasure. In fact, the loss of control—the unknown of what the next bite would be or taste like—filled him with an intense, restless anxiety.

Naturally, he didn’t show this on his face, but Yuan De could still sense the underlying chill in the atmosphere.

Remembering the lesson from the porch, Yuan De handed the serving dishes and silver chopsticks to Chi Ying. He spoke with a forced smile, “I must trouble the Princess to serve the dishes for His Highness.”

Chi Ying was startled, then reached out to take them.

Fortunately, she had done some homework this afternoon. She had asked the kitchen about Prince Zhao’s likes and memorized the menu so she wouldn’t be caught ignorant if he asked.

She knew he used to love fish. Even now, the kitchen didn’t provide only soft, easy-to-chew foods just because he was blind. They still followed his old habits, which meant bones and scales were still a factor.

She first served him a bowl of soup. “Your Highness, this Tofu Broth uses a chicken stock base, simmered with silver bait, ham, and dried scallops. The tofu is tender and flavorful, and the broth is rich but not greasy. Please try it, but be careful of the heat.”

Yan Xuecuī nodded and took the bowl. He smiled. “Thank you.”

The hand holding the chopsticks was pale and long, looking as if it were carved from fine white jade. His dining posture was elegant and slow—a refined grace bred into his very bones as royalty.

Chi Ying hurriedly looked away from his moving Adam’s apple. While he drank the soup, she picked up a piece of fish and placed it on his plate. “This dish is the Jinji Yukuai. The sea bass is sliced thin and translucent, white as jade, while the orange-gold sauce is soft, waxy, and exceptionally fresh.”

Yan Xuecuī set down the soup bowl and took a slice of the fish. He tasted it slowly. Finally, the corners of his lips turned up. “Not bad.”

Chi Ying continued to serve him several more dishes, providing a detailed description for each.

Beside them, Yuan De was secretly breaking into a sweat. The Prince usually followed the rule of “no speaking while eating or sleeping.” They were used to remaining silent while serving, fearing even the sound of a silver chopstick hitting a plate would annoy him. Yet the Princess spoke continuously. Fortunately, the Prince suppressed his temperament and responded quite gently, not losing his temper on the spot. He was giving her plenty of “face.”

By the end of the meal, Yan Xuecuī felt that dining was perhaps not such a tedious affair after all.

That soft, tender voice brushed against his ears, telling him the name of every dish, the ingredients used, and reminding him if it was sweet, spicy, hot, or cold. As he chewed slowly, these dishes that usually held no interest for him seemed to possess a myriad of flavors.

Yan Xuecuī finished half a bowl of broth, set down the lotus-shaped bowl, and asked, “How is the food of the estate? Are you used to it, Princess?”

Chi Ying replied, “I am. This concubine has no particular dislikes.”

She wasn’t picky about food or clothes. In fact, the preferences she had reported to the kitchen were Chi Yingyue’s favorites, just in case the sisters switched back later and things didn’t match up.

She ate slowly as she served him, thinking that feeding him more might buy her more time. If they ate until late, perhaps there would be no time for the consummation tonight.

But every dinner must come to an end.

By the end of the You hour (around 7:00 PM), Yan Xuecuī had rinsed his mouth with clear tea. Qing Ze had moved over the bamboo slips he usually read.

Shuyu Pavilion had once been Yan Xuecuī’s own bedroom. But after he went blind, he had grown used to recovering at Yangui Tower, especially since the dungeon he frequented was located beneath it. He had eventually just stayed there.

Today, Shuyu Pavilion had been rearranged. Chi Ying saw that the display cabinets, moon tables, bookshelves, and scroll jars were now filled with the Prince’s items. Her heart pounded with unease.

Does he intend to live here permanently?

Qingzhi came forward, saying the hot water in the bathing room was ready and inviting her to bathe.

As for what would happen after the bath, it went without saying.

Chi Ying looked at Prince Zhao, who was sitting leisurely on the daybed, drinking tea. He clearly had no intention of leaving. Her heart sank, and she went to bathe first.

In honor of the masters’ first night together, Auntie Fangchun and the others had prepared everything according to the standards of a wedding night.

Looking at the baskets of fresh flower petals and the fragrant oils and lotions, Chi Ying thought for a moment before instructing Qingzhi, “We won’t use the petals or the oils today. I’ve just recovered from a cold; these scents make me feel a bit unwell.”

Being covered in fragrance would only make Prince Zhao think she was eager to please him. She needed to minimize her presence as much as possible. She wanted him to not only be unable to see her face but also be unable to smell her…

Right, I should wear thicker sleepwear too. She would make herself feel bulky and unappealing. She could simply say she was afraid of catching another chill.

In that state, how could he possibly maintain any interest?

NOTES

Tofu Broth (豆腐羹): A delicate, thick soup.

Jinji Yukuai (金齑玉脍): A famous historical dish of thinly sliced fish served with a bright orange sauce (often made with citrus or crab roe).

You Hour (酉时): 5:00 PM – 7:00 PM.

Huanghuali (黄花梨): A precious, high-quality wood used for furniture.

Hundred Children and Thousand Grandchildren (百子千孙): A common auspicious motif for wedding bedding, symbolizing a wish for many heirs.

Footnotes:

Jinji Yukuai (金齑玉脍): Literally “Golden Minced Meat and Jade Slices.” It is one of the most famous dishes in Chinese history, praised for its visual beauty and refined flavor.

No speaking while eating or sleeping (食不言寝不语): A classic Confucian rule of etiquette followed by the nobility.

Hundred Children and Thousand Grandchildren (百子千孙): This pattern usually depicts many small boys playing, reflecting the traditional value placed on a large family.

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