Pei Huaiche could yield to her in all other matters, but when it came to restraint between the bed curtains, he truly "as a husband, could not do it."
At the thought, he felt somewhat fortunate that he had never taught her to read—after all, this sort of advice concerning intimate marital matters was not something Doctor Qu could readily state face to face, and so he had merely scribbled it hastily in the corner of the prescription.
Had it been otherwise, he would not have failed to notice when she casually handed the prescription to the kitchen. Fortunately, whether it was the kitchen staff or Baodian who delivered the medicine, all tacitly refrained from pointing out the specific meaning of those four characters.
A flicker of guilt passed through his heart. As Pei Huaiche drew Cuihua into his embrace, his fingertips inconspicuously pushed the prescription deeper beneath the pillow.
Candle shadows swayed, casting the silhouettes of two figures within the bed curtains. He then raised himself once more and kissed her lustrous lips.
The lingering taste of medicine remained on his tongue and lips—a bitter, astringent flavor that made Cuihua let out a soft moan: "Why is this medicine more bitter than what you drank before?"
As she spoke, her arms, which had been looped around his neck, loosened their hold, yet her voluptuous body grew ever softer as it pressed against him, separated only by a thin layer of undergarment, her warmth seeping into his fingertips like water soaking through.
Pei Huaiche's eyes darkened. His hand, which had been resting on her waist, slowly traveled upward, and wherever his fingertips passed, it seemed sparks spread—before long, she had melted into a pool of rippling spring water.
Two years had passed since their marriage, and he knew every sensitive spot on her body by heart. A gentle touch here, a slow caress there, was enough to send her into a daze of passion, with no thought for anything else but the pleasure he gave her.
The candlewick crackled, and the warmth within the bed curtains deepened. The medicine bowl was set aside on the small table by the bed with a soft clink, but no one paid it any mind.
The foreplay was in full swing when Pei Huaiche imperceptibly shifted their positions, turning to press her beneath him. His lips and tongue wandered from her snow-white neck down to her full bosom, tracing over every inch of skin with meticulous patience, like a spring breeze brushing across newly bloomed petals, leaving behind alluring red marks.
Cuihua tilted her head back with soft gasps, her slender fingers unconsciously clutching the brocade quilt beneath her. Her eyes were drunk with desire, her cheeks flushed, and in her languor there was an unconscious seductiveness.
About the time it takes an incense stick to burn, as their passion was drawing to a close, she reached out a soft hand in her haze and gently tugged at the man who was habitually preparing to withdraw from her.
Her voice was still husky and honeyed with the tide of passion, her lashes trembling: "Husband… do we still need to be as cautious as before? I am a princess now—whether it's one child or three or five, with the allowance Mother Empress has granted me, we can certainly afford to raise them…"
The further she spoke, the lower her voice became, until it was barely a whisper. Her face turned to the inner side of the bed, her cheeks flushed crimson—clearly a look of shyness tinged with anticipation.
But when Pei Huaiche heard this, the surging desire in his eyes receded by seven or eight parts in an instant. His shock lasted only a moment, yet he still decisively pulled away, as if he hadn't heard her clearly. He took the silk handkerchief from the side and, avoiding her gaze, silently cleaned them both.
Cuihua was bewildered—both because having a child now that circumstances permitted was something they had agreed upon long ago, and because she knew his habits in matters of intimacy.
On ordinary occasions like this, he would always take her at least three times, only stopping when she could bear no more and pushed and bit at him. For him to stop after a single round, like today, was truly rare.
Filled with doubt, she pushed aside the quilt he had drawn over her, turned to embrace his arm, and looked up at his expression: "Why are you so easily tired today? Are you going to sleep?"
But he merely kept his eyes closed, the profile of his face appearing cold and hard in the dim candlelight, clearly showing no sign of drowsiness.
After a long moment, unable to withstand her burning gaze, he let out a low sigh. Before she could ask again, he pulled the quilt back up to cover her: "Perhaps the medicine Doctor Qu prescribed contains some calming ingredients—it makes one drowsy after taking it… Go to sleep. Let us both rest early tonight."
Cuihua was not foolish—at least, she could clearly hear the evasion in his words.
The reason she didn't press further that night was simply that she knew he always carried heavy thoughts, and that whenever he acted, he must have his considerations. She didn't want him—who had already accompanied her through so much during the day—to lose sleep at night over yet another worry.
It must be said that although she could rarely guess what Pei Huaiche was thinking, she ultimately understood his nature and temperament.
Only when her even, deep breathing came from beside him did he indeed open his eyes again in the darkness, turn his face to gaze at her for a long while, then let out a barely audible sigh before closing his eyes to force himself to rest.
By the next morning at the hour of Mao, Pei Huaiche woke and keenly noticed that Cuihua had started her monthly cycle in her sleep. He felt somewhat relieved.
He thought that this not only confirmed his cautious conduct over the past month had not been in vain, but also meant that for the next few days, they need not share the same bed—enough time for her to forget last night's words, which were likely just murmurs spoken in the heat of passion.
Cuihua woke to the sun already high in the sky, at the hour of Sì.
Her body felt heavy, more sluggish than usual, but fortunately Pei Huaiche had already arranged everything for her.
After rising on her own, she sent a servant to summon Baodian. By the time Cuihua rubbed her eyes and sat up two hours later, Baodian had prepared bathwater at just the right temperature in the adjoining room, with clean sanitary cloths and a change of clothes neatly placed by the tub.
They say it's easy to go from frugality to luxury—at least when it came to enjoying the good life, Cuihua had adapted remarkably quickly.
She had long since grown accustomed to having Baodian attend to her during her baths, and no longer fretted over how long she soaked, since as long as she wished to linger, hot water would flow in endlessly.
Knowing Cuihua was on her period, Baodian had specially added mugwort leaves and safflower to the water to invigorate the blood and ease abdominal pain.
After she finished bathing and changing, Baodian duly presented a warm bowl of red date and bird's nest congee. Seeing that Cuihua was merely languid in demeanor with no further signs of discomfort, she allowed herself to relax a little.
Cuihua finished the congee at a leisurely pace before remembering she was still occupying Pei Huaiche's bedchamber. She asked, "Where's your Master Pei? I wasn't watching today—did he eat breakfast on time?"
Baodian answered promptly, "Rest assured, Princess. Everyone in the household knows how much you care for Master Pei—no one would dare be negligent. His medicine and meals were all delivered on schedule. I observed that Master Pei seemed in good spirits. While you were resting, he went to the storeroom and sent someone to deliver the gift you prepared for the Third Prince yesterday. However…"
Cuihua handed over the congee bowl, her slender brows arching slightly. "However what?"
Baodian hesitated. "It's just that Zhang Tai, who went to deliver the gift, has been gone for over an hour and hasn't returned yet. I'm not sure what's happening."
Like the household's coachman, Baodian—who had once served by the Empress's side—clearly harbored a wary fear of the Third Prince, known by his epithet as the "demonic seed."
Cuihua took note of this, understanding that they were more concerned about her getting too close to Li Jing and courting trouble. She said no more, only rising slowly and asking Baodian to accompany her back to her room.
Baodian attended her carefully along the way. Seeing that Cuihua walked with her usual ease, her complexion no less rosy than on any ordinary day, she couldn't help but remark softly, "When Master Pei noticed your condition, he gave me detailed instructions on every little thing—it rather startled me. I thought you must be suffering terribly each time!"
Cuihua's lips curved upward involuntarily, a sweet warmth rippling in her eyes. "He just worries too much. I grew up in the countryside—I never had so many refinements before. All those rules, he established them one by one after I brought him into the household."
Her tone sounded like a complaint, yet the corners of her eyes shimmered with warm radiance—clearly the look of someone who felt nothing but joy at the mention of him.
And indeed, that was the truth.
Liu Fugui, who had taken her in all those years ago, doted on her as well, but having never married and being blind, he couldn't attend to many finer matters. He only learned that his daughter had gotten her first period when he heard her sobbing under her blanket late one night.
Cuihua had been only thirteen then. The young girl thought she was bleeding down there without end and had contracted some fatal illness. Clinging to life as she was, she also felt guilty toward her father—that she would waste the decade and more of his nurturing, and make an old man bury his own child.
Liu Fugui was at a loss before her tears, and being only vaguely familiar with such matters of womanhood, he ultimately led her to a village auntie who had delivered many babies, entrusting the woman to close the door and teach Cuihua how to manage such private affairs, while he rubbed his rough hands together and paced anxiously outside.
Until Pei Huaiche was brought into the family as a son-in-law.
By title he was her husband, yet in "disciplining" her, he was as unquestionably authoritative as a father raising a daughter.
He said a woman must not touch cold water during those days, and forbade her from making tofu. She refused to accept this, argued with him, and demanded to know how they would set up their market stall without tofu. He answered simply, saying it was better for her to conserve her strength, and so ordered her to stay home and rest quietly.
Of course, he never forced her into wifely submission. But every month he made her rest for four or five days, adding strain to their already tight circumstances.
Not only did he write an excellent hand, he was also highly skilled at painting fan faces. She, for her part, had always enjoyed whittling small wooden trinkets for her own amusement.
In the countryside, these weren't considered special talents. The surrounding villagers were mostly poor households—from children's toys to farm tools and furniture, everyone made things themselves, and no one ever expected such rough homemade goods to fetch money.
Yet the plain fans she wove, once adorned with his exquisite brushwork of landscapes, flowers, and birds, could sell for a very decent price in town.
After a while, she stopped insisting on working during those days, and simply stayed home, sitting contentedly by his side watching him paint fans.
For a time, she became the envy of countless village women, who all said she was fortunate—the husband she'd gotten for free not only doted on her immensely, but his ability to earn money was no less than those able-bodied laborers who only knew how to sell their strength.
Back in the room, Cuihua lounged for a moment on the beauty couch beneath the window. Bored beyond measure, she had Baodian fetch a rasp and the leftover wood from the "kindly comb" she had once crafted for the Empress, and began slowly sanding a fan rib.
Though they no longer needed to rely on this craft for a living, she still wanted to see him paint the fan face.
Not only because she adored the lively landscapes his brush produced, but also because she loved the tranquil silhouette he cut when he concentrated on his strokes—she could linger by his side and watch him all day without ever growing weary.
What she hadn't expected was that before she had even finished sanding a single fan rib at her leisure, Zhang Tai—whom Pei Huaiche had dispatched to Li Jing's residence to deliver a belated gift—had already returned.
And he hadn't come back alone. He had brought with him the young eunuch who had been in constant attendance at Li Jing's side the previous day, claiming that by order of Prince Jin, Pei Huaiche was to be "borrowed" for a few days at the Jin residence.
Zhang Tai, cowed by the intimidating presence of Li Jing, the "demonic seed" prince, had naturally dared not refuse outright while at the Jin residence. Only now, back at the Princess's estate, did he seem to find his backbone again. Once Baodian led him before Cuihua, he dropped to his knees with a thud: "Your Highness, this servant deserves ten thousand deaths—I failed to carry out the task you and Master Huai entrusted to me."
Perhaps because her monthly cycle was upon her, Cuihua's temper was more frayed than usual. She frowned immediately: "What does Li Jing want with my husband? And borrowing him for several days at that?"
This time she made no effort to be discreet, uttering the words "my husband" clearly and deliberately, as if to impress upon Zhang Tai that Pei Huaiche's standing in her heart was by no means that of an ordinary servant.
True, she had gotten along reasonably well with Li Jing yesterday, but that had been built on the foundation of Li Jing first treating Pei Huaiche with courtesy.
Now, what was this business of casually "borrowing people"?
Even between masters borrowing servants, one rarely saw such discourtesy—let alone borrowing a husband from his wife.
So what exactly did he take her husband for? If he had even a shred of respect, he wouldn't treat a living person like some object to be lent and sent about.
Seeing Cuihua's face frost over, Zhang Tai dared not hold anything back and reported in a low voice: "Your Highness, it seems to be about the horse that Prince Jin captured. According to him, the horse has been caught twice, and having apparently realized it cannot escape yet refusing to be tamed, it has begun to refuse food. He observed that Master Huai has considerable skill in horse-breaking, and so took it into his head to borrow Master Huai for a few days…"
His wording was exceedingly careful, but Cuihua, recalling the past of a mounted slave that Pei Huaiche had told her about, found Li Jing's actions all the more egregious: "My husband helped him catch that horse yesterday because he didn't want to see him ride down innocent bystanders. If he won't even acknowledge the debt he owes us, fine—but does he think he can order my husband around as he pleases from now on?"
Zhang Tai said helplessly: "This servant also felt that Prince Jin's actions were indeed disrespectful to Master Huai and to our Princess's estate, so I made the excuse that Master Huai had been unwell these past few days—which was precisely why Your Highness had personally taken him to see a physician yesterday. But Prince Jin's temperament… has always been somewhat overbearing."
The more Cuihua heard, the angrier she grew. Recalling that Baodian had just informed her that Xiaobi—the one Li Jing had sent to "borrow" Pei Huaiche—was still waiting outside the main hall, she stamped her embroidered shoe and rose with a grim face, intent on personally confronting the offender.
Xiaobi was the name of that young eunuch.
Yesterday, Li Jing had mentioned that when he had first been branded on the face, his temper had been fierce. The Empress, seeing that the tutors sent to teach him reading and writing were daily driven to fury by him, had simply let him run wild. But mindful that he still bore the title of prince, she couldn't allow him to grow up a complete savage, so she had selected Xiaobi—originally the son of an official family, but who had been punished and castrated into the palace as a child due to his ancestors' crimes—to first attend the study hall with the other imperial relatives' children, then return and try to teach Li Jing whatever he could manage.
At the time, Cuihua had not only felt sorry for Li Jing but had also sympathized with Xiaobi, and had been rather moved by the bond of shared suffering between master and servant.
Watching them interact, it was clear Li Jing didn't treat Xiaobi as a mere servant—he treated him more like a good friend, a brother.
But if Li Jing didn't treat his own servant like a servant, what right did he have to treat her husband like one?
And this Xiaobi—how dare he strut into the Princess's estate, borrowing the tiger's might like a fox? Did he truly think that by understanding Li Jing, everyone in the Princess's estate would regard him as half a master?
Cuihua had been spoiled by Pei Huaiche for two years. Normally during her monthly cycle she would indulge in laziness and avoid exertion, but now she moved with the speed of wind.
Baodian hurried behind her, worried that anger might harm her health, and counseled as she walked: "Your Highness, Prince Jin has always been without manners. Please don't be angry. Since he was the one to err first, you need only give the order, and this servant will send the messenger away."
In Baodian's view, given Xiaobi's lowly status, there was no need for Cuihua, as a princess, to personally contend with him.
But Cuihua had grown up in the countryside, and when it came to standing up for someone she cared about, she felt she had to do it herself—only then would the anger in her chest be properly vented.
So she stormed along halfway, and nearly collided head-on with Huang Hu, the servant who ordinarily attended to Pei Huaiche's daily needs.
Huang Hu saw her grim expression and hastily knelt down as well: "Princess, are you going to find Master Huai? Master Huai has sent me to report to you—since Prince Jin's men have come to invite him, he intends to go over there."
Huang Hu caught a glimpse of Zhang Tai behind Cuihua and knew that the Princess must have already learned of the matter.
He had originally assumed Li Jing was simply acting recklessly, so after Zhang Tai brought Xiaobi back, he told the story to Pei Huaiche as a joke, expecting to wait together for Cuihua to send someone to dismiss Xiaobi.
But to his surprise, Pei Huaiche had him push the wheelchair to the main hall, where—at least in Huang Hu's view—he received Xiaobi, who had been waiting there for quite some time, with considerable courtesy and propriety.
The moment Cuihua heard this, she stamped her foot in fury: "Does he think I wouldn't stand up to Li Jing for his sake if he refused? I've been treating him exactly as before all these days—as my husband, my lord. But he's gotten into character quickly enough, truly believing he's a servant I can lend out as a favor!"
She was clearly livid, and in that moment, she no longer bothered to conceal her feelings for Pei Huaiche.
So after Zhang Tai, who had failed to refuse Li Jing on the spot, Huang Hu—who had allowed Pei Huaiche to agree to go with Xiaobi—naturally became the target of Cuihua's displaced anger.
But unlike Zhang Tai, who had no room for defense, Huang Hu recalled Xiaobi's words and Pei Huaiche's attitude and felt he could still offer a few words of explanation.
Seeing Cuihua about to go straight over and stop him, he lowered his head again and said: "Princess, actually, Master Huai initially wanted to go in person because he was worried that our words might not be careful enough—that if we slipped up, Prince Jin might truly hold a grudge against you…"
Cuihua paused mid-step: "And then? How did he end up deciding to go after all? Was it that Li Jing's envoy was harsh in manner and hard to deal with?"
Huang Hu quickly said: "No! Absolutely not! The Princess entrusted Master Huai to my care—how would I dare to be negligent? If he had shown Master Huai even the slightest disrespect, I wouldn't have the face to come before you. It's just that the message Xiaobi conveyed from Prince Jin was… 'Your younger brother brother presumes, but I hope my brother-in-law will do me the honor.'"