Chapter Eleven: “On the wedding night, it should be like this before…”
Night.
The red bridal curtains hung low, soft candlelight filling the chamber with a warm, wavering glow.
Ling Zhenli no longer wished to think about Xiao Chongheng. The most urgent matter now was to use the wedding night to strengthen her relationship with Pei Xuanlin.
She first poured herself several cups of wine. One reason was to steel her nerves to flirt with Pei Xuanlin; another was that if he saw she was a little tipsy, he would not think her improper.
Thus she leaned against the couch, her fingers hooked around a gilded wine cup, constantly shifting her posture as she tested which pose would be alluring yet still elegant.
The amber-colored wine swayed gently, reflecting her half-drunken brows and eyes.
She had already drunk three cups. A faint blush rose to her cheeks, moisture shimmering in her eyes, yet she still maintained the proper seated posture. Only her wedding robe was slightly loosened, revealing a stretch of snow-white neck.
Footsteps sounded outside the door. Her lashes trembled lightly. She tilted her head back and drained the cup in one go, deliberately letting a drop of wine slide down the corner of her lips.
When Pei Xuanlin pushed the door open, he happened to see her covering her lips with her sleeve, the corners of her eyes brimming with springlike allure as she looked over, her voice so soft it seemed it could be wrung into water.
“Your Highness… why have you come so late? I’ve been waiting so long.”
His steps halted.
The dignified, composed Crown Princess of the daytime now looked like a languid little cat, her fingers unconsciously twining around a lock of hair, red lips slightly parted.
“You’re drunk,” Pei Xuanlin said in a low voice, yet he could not help walking closer.
“Your Highness…” Ling Zhenli’s voice was light and soft. She poured two cups of wine and handed one to him. Her sleeve slipped down, revealing a slender, white wrist. “You haven’t yet drunk the nuptial wine with me.”
Pei Xuanlin took the cup. His fingertips brushed lightly over the back of her hand, feeling the smoothness of her skin.
“The ceremonial sharing of wine is proper,” he said in a deep voice. He looped his arm around hers, and the distance between them suddenly closed.
Ling Zhenli could smell the faint fragrance on him, inexplicably making her heart race.
She lowered her head slightly, her lips touching the rim of the cup as she drank with him.
The wine slid down her throat, spicy yet tinged with sweetness.
When the cups were set aside, Pei Xuanlin did not release her. Instead, maintaining the crossed-arm posture, his thumb gently rubbed over the bone of her wrist.
“Is the wine strong?” he asked, his gaze burning.
Ling Zhenli’s eyes flickered. She coughed lightly on purpose, a blush appearing just in time on her cheeks. “I drank a little too much earlier. I’m a bit lightheaded. I hope Your Highness won’t blame me.”
Pei Xuanlin chuckled softly and suddenly leaned in, whispering by her ear, “Since my beloved consort is tired, shall we retire?”
Warm breath brushed past her ear. Ling Zhenli’s fingers trembled slightly, yet she leaned into his embrace, her voice barely audible.
“Your Highness… are you sleepy?”
She laughed softly, reached out to tug at his collar, pulling him closer.
Tilting her face up, her breath grazed his jaw, carrying a faint scent of wine. Her voice was soft and gentle. “But the matrons said… on the wedding night, one should do this first before resting…”
The madam of the brothel counted as half a matron as well; she felt this was not really a lie.
Her fingers slid down along Pei Xuanlin’s collar. Pretending clumsiness, she undid one knotted button, but when her fingers brushed his Adam’s apple, she withdrew as if startled, lowering her lashes. “Ah… I’m so clumsy…”
Pei Xuanlin’s breathing grew heavier from her teasing. Suddenly, he grasped her wrist.
By candlelight, his brows and eyes were deep, tinged with a rare hint of hesitation. “You’re not clear-headed right now.”
Ling Zhenli pouted slightly and used the wine’s courage to act coy and seek favor. “I don’t care. Your Highness doesn’t know how hard I waited for you. Actually… I’ve admired you for a long time.”
The next moment, she gathered her courage and kissed his lips—very lightly, very gently.
Pei Xuanlin’s breath caught at the kiss. His palm cupped the back of her neck, deepening it.
His lips were warm and forceful, carrying an aggression long restrained, as if he wanted to devour her whole.
Ling Zhenli’s fingers trembled slightly, yet she remembered to feign innocence, responding awkwardly yet boldly to his kiss. Now and then she would “accidentally” bite his lower lip, then retreat in panic, a mist of tears rising in her eyes.
“Your Highness, I—I’m not very good at this…” she panted softly, her voice timid and yielding, like a startled bird.
Though her mouth said this, her body pressed closer, brushing against him through layers of fabric. Her fingers seemed to graze his waist unintentionally, sending a shiver through him.
Pei Xuanlin’s eyes darkened. His thumb brushed over her lips, his voice hoarse. “It’s all right. I’ll teach you.”
With that, he scooped Ling Zhenli up and carried her toward the bed.
She let out a soft cry, wrapping her arms around his neck, her cheek pressed to his chest, listening to his rapid heartbeat.
Was he nervous?
She was gently set down on the brocade bedding. The red gauze curtains fell, candlelight filtering through and casting ambiguous shadows across her skin.
Pei Xuanlin leaned over her, one hand braced above, the other undoing her ties, his movements restrained yet undeniable.
Ling Zhenli pretended fear, grabbing his hand in flustered panic. Her lashes trembled as if pleading. “Your Highness… I’m afraid it will hurt.”
Men loved hearing such words.
Sure enough, his breath hitched. A trace of tenderness flashed in his eyes. He lowered his head and kissed her forehead. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll be gentle. If it hurts, tell me and I’ll stop.”
The next moment, his kisses traced down along her neck, carrying searing heat, as if to brand her into his very bones.
Ling Zhenli bit her lip and hummed softly, her fingers digging into his shoulders, her breathing unsteady.
His palm covered her waist. His fingers brushed over an old injury there—the one Xue Haoting had left days earlier—startling Ling Zhenli into a sharp breath, her body going rigid.
Sensing the change in her, Pei Xuanlin gently kissed her forehead in reassurance.
Then he rose slightly and saw the scar at her waist. He did not ask. Instead, he bent down and pressed a kiss to it.
That kiss felt as though it were meant to smooth away all her past.
Ling Zhenli’s heart clenched violently, her mind going blank for an instant.
But she was soon pulled back to reality.
Because Pei Xuanlin’s movements grew forceful. His hand locked at her waist as he completely possessed her.
She felt the pain clearly, enough to make her knit her brows, tears spilling from the corners of her eyes.
Men loved the drama of conquering purity. Coupled with the fact that Ling Zhenli truly did suffer some pain, half real and half feigned, her panting carried a faint sob, tinged with grievance, so soft and sweet it could drip with water.
“Your Highness… it hurts…”
Hearing this, Pei Xuanlin softened his movements somewhat, soothing her with kisses before coaxing her again.
…
After it was over, Pei Xuanlin personally attended to her bath. By the time everything was settled, it was already deep into the night. Somewhat weary, he returned to bed and pulled Ling Zhenli into his arms, preparing to sleep together.
But with a soft, fragrant beauty in his embrace, and it being his first time holding a woman while sleeping, he struggled for quite a while and could not fall asleep.
“Your Highness, why aren’t you sleeping?” Ling Zhenli asked softly.
She truly was somewhat exhausted and needed rest, though she was not very sleepy. Sensing his slight movements, she asked out of instinctive concern.
After thinking for a moment, Pei Xuanlin answered politely, “It’s still early. I’m not very tired.”
“Then I’ll chat with Your Highness for a bit,” Ling Zhenli said gently, leaning against him.
Pei Xuanlin thought for a moment, then asked, “Do you have a childhood name, my consort?”
“My parents call me A-Li.”
This was also the only thing she shared with Xue Yingyue. Once, when Xue Haoting was drunk, he had called that name many times, and only then did she realize both she and Xue Yingyue shared the same childhood name.
“A-Li…”
Pei Xuanlin drew her closer, kissed her forehead again, took a strand of her long hair and entwined it with a strand of his own, idly playing with it between his fingers.
“When you married me, your father should have told you that I am not the current emperor’s biological son, but an adopted nephew.”
“I know,” Ling Zhenli nodded.
“My father was the current emperor’s elder brother, Emperor Ruizong. After my mother passed away, my father posthumously honored her as Empress. While alive, she was only a palace maid, of low birth, a war captive my father took during his campaigns. That is why people in the palace do not like me…”
“Your Highness…”
Seeing his low spirits, Ling Zhenli could not help reaching out to stroke his face. Her warm, soft hand did not just caress his face, but also soothed his heart.
Pei Xuanlin thought to himself that although Xue Wenmian was devious and scheming, and Xue Yingyue was Xue Wenmian’s daughter, she was also his, Pei Xuanlin’s, lawful wife. She would feel for him, love him, and stand on his side.
Ling Zhenli rested her head lightly on his shoulder and said, “Tomorrow morning, after paying respects to the Emperor and Empress, let us go burn incense for Your Highness’s imperial father and mother.”
“Would you despise me because my birth mother was of low status?” he asked.
“How could I?” She leaned closer, her nose almost touching his face, whispering as their breaths mingled, “Your Highness is my husband. Your Highness’s mother is naturally my mother as well. I would never disdain her.”
“That’s enough to hear. A-Li, sleep.”
Tonight, Ling Zhenli had undoubtedly pleased Pei Xuanlin. She could clearly feel that he had lowered his guard toward her a little.
But there was still a long road ahead. She could not afford to relax.
On the second day after the wedding, they had to rise early to dress and go to the palace to pay respects.
In the morning, as a show of care, Pei Xuanlin personally drew Ling Zhenli’s brows. She was very moved at first, but after a few strokes that did not quite turn out right, she had to wipe them off and let the court ladies do it.
The female officials of the Eastern Palace arranged her hair into a dignified palace coiffure. A golden phoenix hairpin swayed lightly at her temples, while the splendid layers of the Crown Princess’s ceremonial robes wrapped around her.
“Your Highness, it is time to depart,” a palace maid reminded softly.
Ling Zhenli was already becoming accustomed to these cumbersome rules. Calm and composed, she boarded the carriage together with Pei Xuanlin.
The carriage rolled slowly along the palace road. Pei Xuanlin sat opposite her, dressed in an equally elaborate python-patterned robe, making him look as refined as carved jade.
The warmth of his fingers from drawing her brows that morning still seemed to linger at her brow, yet he had returned to his usual aloof demeanor.
She could not help feeling afraid. Xiao Chongheng surely knew she would be paying respects today. She did not know what his status was, and feared encountering him in the palace. If that happened, her secret would surely be exposed, and she would die without a burial.
“Your Highness,” Ling Zhenli called softly, her expression anxious.
Pei Xuanlin looked at her. She seemed nervous, which was understandable—she had rarely left her home before. Feeling unsettled at such a moment was normal.
“There’s no need to be nervous,” he said calmly. “The Emperor is kind in his dealings, and the Empress will not treat you harshly. Follow the rules and nothing will happen.”
Ling Zhenli lowered her head in acknowledgment.
Pei Xuanlin did not know that her anxiety was not from fear of facing the throne, but from the terror of a secret that could be exposed at any moment.
With apprehension all the way, they finally arrived.
The shrill announcement of a eunuch pierced through the vermilion palace gates.
Ling Zhenli followed Pei Xuanlin into the inner hall. As she bowed with her head lowered, her peripheral vision caught sight of the Emperor and Empress seated above.
“Rise. Seeing you two so well matched brings great comfort to my heart,” the Emperor said gently, even with a hint of affection.
Ling Zhenli rose respectfully and finally saw the Emperor clearly. He smiled kindly, his expression benevolent, though dark circles under his eyes were evident, showing the toll of state affairs.
The Empress, meanwhile, was dignified and splendid, her phoenix eyes smiling as they assessed Ling Zhenli.
“Good child, come closer and let me have a good look at you,” Empress Chen Xiang beckoned. Ling Zhenli stepped forward slowly, and the Empress took her hand. “How pretty you are. Why don’t you go out more often?”
Ling Zhenli’s heart skipped, but her face remained calm. She answered obediently, “In reply to Your Majesty, I know my abilities are limited. In order to be worthy of the position of Crown Princess, I have spent these years studying the Four Books and Five Classics behind closed doors, diligently practicing music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, not daring to slacken.”
Hearing this, Chen Xiang’s eyes actually reddened. She patted the back of Ling Zhenli’s hand. “Poor child, so sensible at such a young age.” She turned to the Emperor. “Your Majesty, look—Zhen’er has truly married such a fine wife.”
Pei Lian nodded with a smile. Chen Xiang then turned and instructed a palace maid, “Go fetch my set of emerald head ornaments, and the South Sea pearls that were presented a few days ago. Reward them to the Crown Princess.”
Ling Zhenli knelt to give thanks. At the moment her forehead touched the ground, she sneered inwardly, feeling it all deeply ironic.
If the Empress knew she was nothing more than a lowly former government courtesan, would she feel pity or contempt?
“Zhen’er, take the Crown Princess to stroll through the Imperial Garden,” the Emperor said kindly. “The peonies are in full bloom. It will also give you two a chance to grow more familiar.”
Pei Xuanlin bowed and accepted. Ling Zhenli followed him out of the hall.
“Shall we go view the flowers?” Pei Xuanlin asked as soon as they stepped outside.
“Since we’re here, we should take a look, or it wouldn’t be worth the trip,” Ling Zhenli replied with a faint smile.
She was also curious to see what the imperial garden looked like.
“Come, I’ll take you to see it,” Pei Xuanlin said readily, pleased to comply.