After a peaceful night's sleep, Sang Wu slowly opened her eyes to the sound of birdsong.
The light inside the bed curtains was hazy, and before she was fully awake, she caught the unfamiliar, cool scent of incense lingering by her pillow, causing a momentary daze.
Then, the events of the previous night replayed in her mind.
She blinked, her gaze clearing.
The men she had known before were, at most, not yet of age, which was why they were driven by beauty. She hadn’t understood it before, but Third Master was right—Pei Silang’s temperament was actually like this.
Firm and upright, pure and refined.①
The faint light filtered through the bed curtains, illuminating a thoughtful smile at the corner of her lips.
Everything else was unimportant; Chang’an was a place she absolutely had to go.
Pushing aside the bed curtains, she saw that the bamboo couch on the other side was already empty.
The bedding was neatly arranged, with no lingering warmth.
Judging by the sky, it was just past mao hour.
Sang Wu raised an eyebrow slightly—how many hours had she slept?
The maidservant outside, hearing movement, looked up and was startled to see Sang Wu stepping out of the room in only her sleeping robe and socks.
"You…"
Sang Wu smiled gently. "Where is your Young Master?"
The early morning air was cool and damp with dew.
In the bamboo grove, cold light shimmered like a sheet, leaves falling like rain. Li Yan, standing nearby, felt an inexplicable sense of unease.
The Young Master was a scholar.
For his morning practice, the Young Master usually used an unsharpened sword.
He had said that if a sword were sharpened, it would draw blood and carry a fierce aura. A civil official should cultivate virtue and restraint, practicing self-discipline and propriety, and should not be tainted by such things.
But today…
Even an outsider like Li Yan could sense the sharpness in the Young Master’s swordplay.
Li Yan felt slightly apprehensive.
"Young Master, it’s mao hour!" Seizing the moment, he quickly reminded him. "You have an appointment with Adjutant Shu at si hour in the official hall today, and we still need to stop by the Prefect’s residence first."
If he kept practicing like this, the entire bamboo grove would be stripped bare by the Young Master, leaving him nowhere to hide and slack off.
Fortunately, though the stern gentleman was in a poor mood, his self-discipline was ingrained. His morning practice was set for two ke, and he never exceeded the time by more than the duration of a cup of tea.
Li Yan watched as the Young Master flicked his wrist, the sword gleaming like a rainbow, before smoothly sheathing it and tossing it to him. Without a word, his expression calm, he turned and headed back toward the sleeping quarters.
Li Yan breathed a sigh of relief.
But as soon as they stepped out of the bamboo grove, they ran into the Young Madam from the third branch.
Why was she here?
Before Li Yan could think further, he noticed the Young Master’s expression shift slightly.
It wasn’t exactly displeasure, but… it reminded him of how he felt when he was caught slacking off by Sister Linqin.
Of course, the Young Master, with his noble bearing, was nothing like a child like him. This slight unease only showed for a moment before it was quickly concealed.
Among all the maidservants, Li Yan feared Sister Linqin the most.
But the Young Madam was beautiful and gentle—how could the Young Master possibly be afraid of her?
Li Yan’s eyes darted around.
Could it be that the Young Master disliked his presence here?
Hehe, if he weren’t a clever and observant lad, how could he have earned his place serving the Young Master?
Since the Young Master didn’t seem displeased, he deliberately slowed his pace, falling behind.
When Pei Xu saw Sang Wu at the edge of the bamboo grove, his steps faltered involuntarily.
Sang Wu also saw him and called out first, "Husband!"
Her soft robes fluttered in the morning breeze. Under the gradually brightening sky, her face was as radiant as the morning glow, and her voice was clear and melodious.
As if the awkwardness of the previous night had never existed.
Pei Xu's gaze fell upon the cloud-water colored hem of her skirt, and the knot of melancholy that had been lodged in his heart began to stir faintly once more.
She had always been so proper. Clearly, this brief night had been enough for her to decide how she would interact with him from now on.
Yet he could not face her with a clear and undisturbed mind.
That absurd and abrupt dream.
Startled awake from it, he had lain in the darkness for long hours, lost in thought.
He had, unprecedentedly, remained sleepless until dawn.
Just yesterday, he had resolved to fulfill the responsibilities of a proper husband.
Pei Xu pressed his lips together, suppressing the discomfort in his heart, and asked, "Why are you standing here?"
His expression was visibly indifferent, his tone carrying a sense of distance.
Sang Wu simply smiled at him.
She took two light steps forward, pulled out an embroidered handkerchief, and rose onto her toes. "Husband… when did you rise? I didn't hear a thing."
Pei Xu's body stiffened slightly.
The sensation of silk brushing against his jaw was light, smooth, and carried a faint warmth.
The handkerchief was imbued with the fragrance from her sleeves—a sweet, fresh scent of osmanthus, which he had once caught in the courtyard of Third Madam's residence.
But beyond that, there was another, subtler, almost imperceptible aroma.
Light and lingering, it felt strangely familiar.
Pei Xu naturally knew it was the "Snowy Spring" incense he habitually used.
He flinched as if scalded by the cool fragrance, abruptly stepping half a pace back.
Caught off guard, Sang Wu widened her eyes slightly in surprise.
She remained poised on her toes.
Due to their height difference, her effort to reach up to him seemed somewhat strained. In the morning light, her cheeks were tinged with a faint blush, like a trace of red plum blossoms in the snow.
"Did… did I hurt you?" she asked nervously.
Seeing the confusion on her face and the momentary flash of caution, Pei Xu felt a faint throb at his temple.
Why must it be like this? he asked himself.
It was just wiping sweat—why such an exaggerated reaction?
Composing himself, his gaze swept over the maid beside them, who could not hide her surprise. He lowered his eyes, took the handkerchief from her hand, and said calmly, "Thank you… I can manage on my own."
His voice sounded as gentle as a spring breeze, but Pei Xu's usual impression was so aloof that the maid beside them shivered involuntarily.
She couldn't help but recall how, earlier that morning, Young Madam had emerged from her room in simple sleeping attire, looking languid and delicate. It wasn't just men who would be moved—even she had felt a flutter in her heart.
Unable to resist, she stole a discreet glance at Sang Wu.
Sang Wu breathed a sigh of relief and smiled softly. "Husband, you haven't had breakfast yet, have you? I had some prepared, though I'm not sure if it suits your taste."
Pei Xu gave a faint acknowledgment.
In truth, he was not particularly particular about food. He could dine on the exquisite delicacies of palace banquets as easily as the plain porridge and simple soups of the official quarters. On ordinary days, he prioritized health and nourishment.
Yet when he sat down at the dining table and the maids gracefully arranged the bowls and dishes, he still felt a slight surprise.
There were willow-leaf chives, artemisia fish soup, seasonal bamboo shoot and fern dumplings, a clear broth sprinkled with finely chopped fresh mushrooms and coriander, and a plate of soft, fluffy white steamed cakes with a subtle sweetness.
It was a well-balanced meal, but compared to Third Madam's lavish spread, it was rather simple—hardly different from what a well-off household in the city might serve.
Sang Wu noticed his slightly raised brow and explained with a smile, "When my mother was ill a few years ago, I heard an old physician say that breakfast should not be too varied, as it can harm the spleen and stomach."
Most people of the time likely still believed that the finer the food, the better. However, on this point, Pei Xu had once received guidance from an elder.
That elder was widely recognized as an old sage, already over eighty years old yet still in robust health. His methods of health preservation and nourishment were worth listening to.
But speaking of nourishment… he glanced subtly at Sang Wu.
Through his acquaintance with this elder, Pei Xu had learned some medical principles. Though he had not reached the level of curing illnesses, he was well-versed in the basics of medicinal cuisine and nourishment.
During the latter half of the night, lying awake with eyes open, he had likely figured it out.
He had never been a restless person—how could he lose control and indulge in improper thoughts simply from being alone in a room?
Upon careful reflection, it was probably due to that bowl of sweet pear soup.
The food and drink he usually consumed were extremely clean, except for that bowl of beverage delivered by Sang Wu, which had been prepared in Third Uncle's small kitchen.
Third Uncle had been ill for a long time, so the people in his household were somewhat knowledgeable about medicinal cuisine and nourishment recipes. Naturally, they knew that Peganum harmala seeds, mild in nature, were often used to relieve melancholy and nourish the brain, as well as having aphrodisiac effects.
Pei Xu sat upright at the low dining table. Sang Wu did not sit down at first but stood beside him, elegantly holding her shawl and wide sleeves as she ladled out a bowl of wonton soup.
The dining table was very low, requiring her to lean forward slightly.
From this angle, their heads were close. If they made eye contact, their gazes would be level.
Just as the bowl and spoon were placed before him, Pei Xu lifted his eyelashes and met her gaze.
"Last night's pear drink," he asked, "did you prepare it?"