The red candle had burned past midnight, its wick accumulating a thick layer of spent wax, yet Lu Jin still had not returned.
Shen Fenghuo was so hungry she felt her stomach pressed against her spine. The wedding rituals had been elaborate, and she hadn’t eaten a single grain of rice since noon. Her belly was utterly empty.
Was this how he intended to assert dominance over her on their wedding night?
She set down the Happiness-Union Fan herself, pushed open the door, and a gust of night air, crisp with the chill of snow, rushed in.
The two maids guarding the doorway saw her emerge and immediately bowed in greeting, replying nervously, “Young Mistress, why have you come out?”
Shen Fenghuo smiled. “I wanted to ask where the kitchen is.”
Though the master was absent, she seemed utterly unbothered, her smile radiant.
The maids stared at her, momentarily stunned, before hurriedly replying, “Is Young Mistress hungry? This servant will fetch some pastries for you at once. Please return to your room and wait.”
“No need to trouble yourselves. I’ll go myself.”
The charcoal fire inside the room had dwindled considerably, and Shen Fenghuo felt a chill all over. She wasn’t keen on eating pastries that lacked warmth.
Besides, she had no idea when her husband would return. Going to bed hungry would only make it hard to sleep.
After asking for directions, she didn’t ask the maids to accompany her and went alone to the kitchen.
Lu Jin’s residence had its own small kitchen, separate from the main one used for the wedding banquet. Naturally, the maids wouldn’t let her leave the courtyard.
Even within the Lu estate, the so-called small kitchen looked spacious—larger than her entire home.
Winter nights were cold. Back at home, she often shared a bowl of hot botuo with Wanniang to sleep well.
Shen Fenghuo lit the candle on the counter and found the flour.
Skillfully rolling up her wide sleeves, she boiled some water, kneaded a dough, pinched off pieces, and dropped them into the pot.
As the fire under the stove flared, she took two eggs and slid them into hot oil.
With a sizzle, the eggs fried until both sides were lightly browned and crisp, the runny yolks set but not overflowing. One egg went into the soup base, while the other was placed on a small plate, its rich aroma alone enough to whet the appetite.
She took a section of glossy, smoked sausage, sliced it thinly, and scattered it into the pot to stir-fry until fragrant.
Shen Fenghuo took the dough pieces, pressing and stretching them with practiced ease, shaping them into botuo.
Once the water boiled with rolling white bubbles, she slid the botuo in one by one, watching them bob up and down in the bubbling broth. Steam rose, and the soup simmered noisily. She then tossed in a few washed fresh cabbage leaves and seasoned it with a pinch of salt.
Shen Fenghuo contentedly ladled herself a large bowl.
The broth, flavored with egg and sausage, was rich and savory. The botuo, coated in the fragrant soup, paired perfectly with the sweet, crisp cabbage. A gentle poke into the egg on top released the runny yolk, slowly seeping into the broth and making it even more decadent.
In the front courtyard of the Lu residence, Mother Lu was hurrying toward the bridal chamber in a flurry.
She had been entertaining guests earlier, imagining her son’s wedding night as a scene of sweet intimacy. In her joy, she had drunk a few extra cups of celebratory wine and dozed off, slightly intoxicated.
But then, a servant had rushed in, flustered, to report that the master had not returned after apprehending a suspect, leaving his new bride alone in the bridal chamber.
She jolted awake—this son of hers was beyond saving!
Mother Lu, both angry and anxious, quickened her pace toward the bridal chamber, wondering how to console her newly arrived daughter-in-law.
Ever since returning from that banquet hosted by the Emperor and Empress last year, she had sensed something off about Lu Jin. Though he remained respectful toward her, she often found his moods unpredictable.
Especially when it came to her efforts to arrange a marriage for him, he always said he feared mistreating the young lady.
His father had passed away early, and he had been filial since childhood, diligent in his studies, and of excellent character. How could he possibly mistreat anyone?
Yet every time she made arrangements, he refused. It wasn’t until her friends, with whom she played leaf cards, asked her—
"Auntie Yi, look at your son—his official career is flourishing, yet he delays marriage, always using 'neglect' as an excuse."
They winked and nudged her, asking, "This… neglect, what kind of neglect does it refer to?"
How absurd!
Marriage!
This time, he must marry!
In the bridal chamber, the red candles still burned, but the bed was empty and desolate. The mandarin duck brocade quilt was neatly folded, and the room was eerily quiet, with not a trace of anyone.
"Where are they?"
Mother Lu was utterly bewildered. "On their wedding night, how could both of them be missing?"
The maid guarding the door stammered, "Madam, the young mistress said she was hungry and went to the small kitchen to find something to eat… but, but the young master hasn't returned yet."
Mother Lu grew angrier the more she thought about it.
What a scoundrel!
Using a severed head to intimidate others, forcing the Shen family to send a different daughter—she hadn't even settled that score with him yet!
On his wedding night, leaving his bride unattended, letting her go hungry and search for food in the kitchen herself—if word got out, people would think the Lu family was neglecting their daughter-in-law. What a disgrace!
Suppressing her anger, she hurried to the small kitchen with her maids and servants.
As soon as she reached the kitchen door, a rich, savory aroma wafted out.
Her new daughter-in-law was sitting on a wooden stool in front of a small table, her cheeks flushed from the stove's fire.
Adorned with pearl hairpins and wearing a green silk robe with wide sleeves, she held a steaming bowl of Botuo. The noodles were soaked in a thick, flavorful broth, with wisps of steam rising and the rich aroma filling the air.
Shen Fenghuo was eating intently, picking up a strand of Botuo along with a crispy, golden-edged fried egg and putting it into her mouth.
The Botuo, soaked in the broth, was so hot that she exhaled lightly, but she still ate heartily.
Upon seeing Mother Lu, Shen Fenghuo immediately stood up, wiped her mouth, placed the bowl of Botuo on the table, and bowed respectfully. "Mother."
Mother Lu's gaze first fell on Shen Fenghuo in surprise, then shifted to the bowl of Botuo.
Shen Fenghuo tentatively asked, "Mother, would you like a bowl?"
Mother Lu cleared her throat softly.
It was just the time when the effects of the wine were wearing off.
She really was.
A little hungry.
The broth was savory but not greasy, the Botuo was chewy and well-kneaded, and the cabbage was crisp and refreshing.
At that moment, with the wine wearing off, the Botuo tasted delicious.
Mother Lu couldn't sleep after returning to her room.
The snow had stopped at night, and the new bride sat with her on a wooden stool, asking, "Will my husband return tonight?"
The moonlight reflected off the snow like a glow, and she saw that the floral adornment on her forehead had become blurred, her eyes teary and hazy.
Unacceptable, utterly unacceptable.
Tossing and turning all night, she skipped breakfast the next morning and sent a servant to the Dali Temple to inquire. Unexpectedly, the servant returned in a hurry shortly after, saying the young master had come back.
Mother Lu's anger and her pity for Shen Fenghuo surged together as she strode toward the main hall.
Lu Jin was still wearing the crimson wedding robes from the previous day. Having stayed up all night, his gentle demeanor carried a hint of weariness.
"Lu Shiji!"
Mother Lu approached him, nearly shouting, "Do you want to drive your mother to her grave? The marriage with the Shen family was already called off—wasn't it you who suddenly agreed to it again two days ago?"
Lu Jin shook off his weariness and replied respectfully, "Mother, please calm your anger. It is my fault for causing you to worry all night and… for wronging the bride."
"Wronged?"
Mother Lu fumed. "Last night was such an important occasion. Did the Dali Temple's arrest have to be handled by you personally? The Imperial Guards have their duties, and the constables in the suburbs could have been dispatched. Yet you had to abandon your bride on your wedding night…"
She grew more agitated as she spoke, "Yet she bears no resentment. She only said with reddened eyes that her husband was attending to official duties."
Last night, she had also taken the opportunity to inquire about her background, speaking with her for half an hour. Her story was truly more tragic than those in the storybooks.
Lu Jin did not say much, only lowering his eyes and responding, "It is my fault. I will go see her."
"See what!" Mother Lu snapped angrily. "She is sleeping now. Last night, she must have stayed awake until dawn, just like me. Do not disturb her peaceful rest."
"I understand. I will not disturb her."
Mother Lu glared at him fiercely before finally waving her sleeve. "Forget it. Go on your way, but do not upset her."
Lu Jin nodded and turned to walk toward the bridal chamber.
The Lu residence was still adorned with red silk decorations, filled with an air of celebration. He pushed the door open and entered. Red bed curtains hung low, and a brocade quilt embroidered with mandarin ducks was spread across the bed. A green wide-sleeved wedding gown was casually draped over a brocade stool, with a few hairpins scattered nearby.
Shen Fenghuo lay curled up deep in the bed, the quilt pulled up to her shoulders, revealing only a section of her arm.
She was sleeping soundly, her long eyelashes resting beneath her eyes, her sleeping face serene and peaceful.
Lu Jin raised his hand and placed a plum blossom hairpin from his sleeve in the center of the dressing table.
This was an apology gift he had bought on his way back to the residence.
The sudden illness that struck last year made him unable to control his whereabouts and actions after dusk. He still did not know how to explain it to her and feared hurting her.
Lu Jin’s gaze lingered on her face for a moment before sweeping over her exposed arm. After a brief hesitation, he gently tucked the quilt corner higher.
He turned silently and walked out of the bridal chamber, where he saw a maid standing guard outside, her head bowed.
Lu Jin instructed, "The charcoal in the young mistress’s room is nearly burnt out. Go in and add some more, but do so quietly. Do not wake her."
Shen Fenghuo slept exceptionally deeply. Mother Lu had excused her from morning greetings, so it was not until the sun was high in the sky that she slowly opened her eyes.
The room was warm, and the fire in the charcoal brazier was still burning brightly.
Using charcoal throughout the night was something she had never experienced in the countryside. In the past, winter warmth relied solely on the residual heat from the stove. Sometimes, Wanniang would even come over to share a bed with her, warming each other’s hands and feet.
They did not like winter—not only did they need to prepare more firewood and charcoal, but they also could not earn money by dancing, and few people held banquets during this season.
The wedding rituals were tedious. Shen Fenghuo had been exhausted all day, and after eating a bowl of hot Botuo, it was the perfect time for deep sleep. However, Mother Lu had kept her engaged in conversation for quite some time.
When speaking of her father, she recalled his repeated admonitions. As a scholar-official of integrity, reputation naturally mattered.
She did not mention how he had abandoned his wife and daughter, only recounting the deep affection he had displayed—how, heartbroken, he wept before the grave and finally found his long-lost beloved daughter.
Later, she was simply too tired. Shen Fenghuo forced herself to stay awake, yawning repeatedly, her eyes brimming with tears of exhaustion.
But shortly after wiping her tears, she heard Mother Lu scolding her son vehemently beside her.
Shen Fenghuo stretched lazily and sat up. Not long after, the maid waiting outside the door stepped in quietly and bowed. "Young mistress, you are awake? Allow me to assist you with washing."
She brought a basin of warm water, then turned to open the clothing chest in front of the dressing table. Inside, neatly folded were elegant new garments in refined patterns.
"So many clothes?"
Shen Fenghuo looked at the chest full of clothing and asked in surprise.
The maid smiled and replied, "These were all specially chosen for you by the old madam. She said the winter is cold, so she selected fabrics that are warm and of good quality. Please take a look and see which one you like. I will fetch it for you."
Shen Fenghuo's gaze finally settled on a red-and-white ruqun. "This one, please."
After washing up, the maid combed her long hair. Shen Fenghuo glanced at the dressing table and was suddenly drawn to a plum blossom hairpin.
The pin was carved into plum branches, inlaid with red jade, and from its end dangled a silver chain strung with pearls.
"This hairpin is truly beautiful. Did Mother choose this as well?"