Baishi Village, where Cuihua had grown up since childhood, sat near the border between Yuan and Liang. A long river called Luochuan wound its way through both nations, linking seven cities together.
The upper three stretches belonged to Liang, while the lower four towns fell under Yuan's domain. This presumably explained how Cuihua, having been accidentally lost in Liang territory, had drifted downstream and been fished out by chance by Liu Fugui, the old tofu maker of Baishi Village in Yuan.
Unlike Liang, which prospered peacefully under its Empress's rule, Yuan had been in constant turmoil ever since that great upheaval two years prior.
Especially in this remote frontier where the emperor's reach was long and his grasp short—not only did bandits grow ever bolder, but the iron hooves of nomadic western tribes frequently raided and plundered. Thus, even though Liu Qingzi and her party carried official travel documents stamped with Yuan's imperial seal, they advanced with hearts in their throats, taking a full ten days to cross the pass that marked the border.
And it was precisely these ten days that caused most of the royal guards—who had initially resolved to find a way for the Princess to "discard her burden" once they crossed the pass—to change their hearts.
First were the two subordinates Liu Qingzi had sent to "look after" Huai Che.
Her intention had been nothing more than ensuring the crippled village man didn't die on the road, lest the Princess throw a tantrum.
Who would have thought that within just three days, the two guards—who had merely been ordered to "keep him breathing"—would actually start calling the indifferent crippled man in the carriage their sworn brother?
It wasn't that Huai Che had deliberately struck up conversation to curry favor. At first, he only occasionally responded to the guards' questions, yet somehow he sparked their interest in chatting with him. In the end, with the desolate road stretching on and the carriage jolting along, they unknowingly found a kindred spirit in one another.
Both guards had been selected from military ranks and valued brotherly loyalty highly. Having acknowledged him as their elder brother, they naturally felt obligated to look after him. Knowing his constitution was frail and he couldn't withstand the cold, they took the initiative to seek out the logistics soldiers and request thick blankets.
From there, the situation spread like ink dropped into water—the logistics men, the cooks, and even Liu Qingzi's adjutant Xiang Lan, one by one "fell" utterly and completely.
This unexpected turn of events couldn't help but unsettle Liu Qingzi.
This mission to escort the Princess back to court was of utmost importance. As the Empress's chief bodyguard, every person she had selected to accompany her was a hand-picked loyalist—there was no way any of them could be bought by profit or personal gain.
Moreover, Huai Che was nothing more than a crippled village man soon to be abandoned by them. What leverage could he possibly offer to sway the Empress's personal guards who had served in the capital for years?
Xiang Lan and the others' explanation was frank enough: "Brother Huai Che is a good man—good-natured, widely read, and knowledgeable. Talk to him about astronomy, geography, or street gossip, and he can hold his own on any topic. And unlike those pompous civil officials in the capital who are polite to your face but sneer at us military men behind our backs the moment they get the chance…"
He sang Huai Che's praises for a full half-incense stick's time in front of Liu Qingzi, finally sighing: "I feel that the Princess taking him as a consort and doting on him so much is only natural. He's handsome, and his words are sweet—never mind a backwater place like Qingyun Village, even in our capital, how many fine young men like him could you find?"
As a female official, Liu Qingzi strictly observed the proprieties between men and women. Unlike Xiang Lan and the others, she wouldn't waste words with a village man destined to be "dealt with." Thus, she found the praise entering her ears utterly absurd.
She curled her lips into another cold smile: "He's nothing but a crude rustic from the hills, skilled in glib talk—and he's managed to fool all of you."
Xiang Lan, however, disagreed: "Ma'am, that's not quite right. Think of Prime Minister Zhuge—before he came out of seclusion, wasn't he just a farmer tilling the fields in Nanyang? Our Princess is of noble imperial blood, blessed by heaven. Why would heaven casually toss an ordinary man for her to find? In my view, this Brother Huai Che might well be a man of great learning."
Liu Qingzi grew impatient hearing him gild the village man's reputation further and waved her hand to cut him off—only to see Xiang Lan turn to leave the post station.
She quickly called out to stop him: "It's getting dark, and the city curfew is about to begin. We still need to rise early tomorrow for travel. Where are you off to?"
Xiang Lan answered matter-of-factly: "It's been overcast these past few days. The Princess said that in weather like this, Brother Huai Che's leg ailment tends to flare up, and rubbing it with medicinal wine can ease the pain. I'm under the Princess's orders to buy medicinal wine."
Liu Qingzi: "…"
Watching Xiang Lan's retreating figure, an inkling of uncertainty rose in her heart. She felt she might have truly underestimated this village man.
In just ten days, these trusted subordinates who had shared her indignation and feared the Princess would become too entangled with him had gradually come to tacitly accept—even welcome—the Princess's closeness with him.
By the time Xiang Lan returned with the medicinal wine, Cuihua made no move to delegate to another's hands. She took it with complete naturalness and stepped into her husband's room. The door clicked shut behind her, and she immediately sat down at the edge of the bed, calling out "Husband" in a soft, sweet voice.
Candlelight flickered within the room. Perhaps due to the days of continuous travel, the man reclining against the headboard appeared paler than usual. Yet his strikingly handsome features showed none of the listlessness or fretfulness typical of the long-ailing. His thin lips, pale in color, were pressed lightly together, the corners naturally curved in a composed arc that spoke of unshakable calm.
Cuihua's bright eyes shimmered with radiant light, her slightly parted rosy lips carrying a smile as she gazed at him with a look both fervent and pure, brimming with longing and love.
She wasn't surprised that the guards had changed their attitude toward Huai Che within just ten days.
The two had been husband and wife for two years now, and similar situations were hardly new to her.
When she had first picked up Huai Che—a severely wounded man of unknown origins—she had nearly spent her entire fortune on his treatment and recovery. Later, unable to bear the thought of him dragging his crippled leg with nowhere to go, she had simply taken him in as a live-in husband. The villagers all laughed at her for being foolish.
But eventually, they truly settled into life together. Not only did he help her run the tofu stall with remarkable order, but he also built a reputation by reading and writing letters for the neighbors, and soon villagers began sending their children to him to learn reading and writing.
What was even rarer was that even after he started earning money and no longer needed to rely on her, he still helped manage the household to the best of his ability. Whenever she returned from selling at the market, there would always be warm food kept for her on the stove.
At some point, the village women's mockery turned into envy. During idle chats, they would often say with sour teasing: "Our Cuihua is truly blessed. That husband she picked up—crippled leg and all—knows how to care for his wife better than my able-bodied one."
When Cuihua had first brought Huai Che home, she hadn't thought that far ahead.
She had felt the faint breath beneath his nose, wiped the blood and dust from his face with her sleeve, and then couldn't take her eyes off him.
She had just turned sixteen then, and the farthest she'd ever been was the town. She had never seen such a handsome man before. From that day on, all the mountain spirits and fox demons in the storytellers' tales—those who fell from grace and were rescued by mortals—had a face in her mind.
Country folk weren't bound by so many formalities, and Cuihua and her husband had long since explored every inch of each other's bodies countless times.
Her movements were practiced as she rolled his outer and inner trousers up to his knees. She warmed the medicinal wine in her palms before gently pressing them against his scarred leg, massaging the flesh inch by inch with careful attention.
Cuihua had known hardship her whole life. Once the initial fluster passed, thinking of the wealth within reach, she was genuinely expectant: "Husband, when I become a princess, will we be able to burn as much charcoal as we want in the dead of winter? That'll be wonderful—this year you won't have to suffer so much."
Huai Che's voice faltered slightly as he answered vaguely: "…Perhaps."
It was rare to see him so uncertain, and it made Cuihua's eyes curve into crescents as she laughed out loud: "Haha, so there are things you don't know after all! This time it's my turn to show you the world!"
In her heart, her husband wasn't just the most handsome man she'd ever seen—he was also the most learned and knowledgeable.
He said it was because he had once copied books for a scholar-official, and having handled so many volumes, he knew a little about everything.
But Cuihua felt that what you read in books could never compare to real experience, and now she was going to take him to live a truly good life.
With that thought, joy spread like spring water, washing away the lingering unease.
A mischievous impulse struck her. She suddenly braced her arms on either side of him, lifted her face, and quickly pecked the corner of his lips—like a little kitten stealing a treat.
This was clearly not the first time Huai Che had been ambushed by her. Meeting her sly, smiling face, the aloofness in his eyes receded slightly: "What, you think I haven't seen enough of this kind of 'world'?"
Cuihua laughed even more brightly and beautifully, like a flower trembling on a spring branch.
She knew her own husband best. After ten full days of restraint and propriety, he must have been stirred the moment she began massaging his legs.
On any ordinary day, she would never tease him like this.
Despite his frail, sickly appearance and his cool, aloof demeanor during the day, once his desires were roused, he was like a wolf that had been lying in wait for days—fierce and relentless.
His legs were limited in movement, but the hands that had long supported him on crutches possessed astonishing strength. Every time, he wouldn't release his grip on her until he was fully satisfied, and time and again, she'd miss the early market the next morning.
It wasn't that Cuihua disliked being intimate with him—it was simply that she couldn't withstand the frequency and intensity whenever he took the notion. So if she wasn't in the mood herself, she usually wouldn't provoke him like this.
But today, she could make an exception. She was a princess now, surrounded by guards on all sides. Since the two of them hadn't gone through formal rites, by so-called royal protocol, he would have to behave and restrain himself.
Thinking of how she was always "bullied" by him in the past, and how today she could finally "bully" him back, Cuihua felt immensely pleased with herself.
But suddenly, her snow-white wrist was seized. The world spun around her as she was pulled into his embrace with that familiar force, firmly trapped within his arms.
Cuihua's heart nearly stopped from fright. Her cheeks flushed crimson as she whispered urgently: "Are you mad! There are people outside…"
More than worrying about the guards being punished by her Empress mother for their scandalous behavior, she was mortified at the thought of their private marital affairs being exposed when she knew full well there were ears beyond the door.
But her answer came in the form of his cool fingers gripping her chin, followed by thin lips descending to capture her full earlobe.
In the place beyond Cuihua's line of sight, Huai Che's ink-black eyes lifted slightly, their depths churning with a dark tide more profound and somber than the night itself.
His voice was crisp and cool, the suppressed desire within him like a volcano poised to erupt, fiercer than ever before: "If I weren't certain we could do this without anyone being the wiser, do you think I'd let you in here and let you paw all over me?"
…
How miserable was the little milk kitten who had provoked the big bad wolf?
The wooden couch beneath them creaked and groaned without cease, and Cuihua spent a full shichen in his room.
Even with his assurance, she still didn't dare make a racket, so she could only bite her lip hard and swallow every broken whimper.
By the time she had no strength left, she bit down on his shoulder in a fit of pique.
But that shoulder was nothing but a thin layer of sinewy muscle stretched over bone—she'd witnessed this man's pain tolerance for two years now. He never so much as grunted, yet the hardness of it made her teeth ache.
When the clouds dispersed and the rain ceased, Cuihua forced herself up to clean up the traces, her heart still trembling. She caught a glimpse of the culprit having already resumed his usual cool, ascetic demeanor, and her anger flared.
The princess airs she'd been putting on moments ago were flung to the nine heavens. She planted her hands on her hips like a little shrew and cursed at him: "You surnamed Huai, you're nothing but a lecher! All those sage books you copied went straight to the dogs—you save up all your strength just to spend it on me!"
Huai Che, however, acted as if she weren't scolding him at all, raising an eyebrow with an unruffled air: "What are you saying, my wife? This life of mine was picked up by you, and 'husband' was the first word you called me. Aren't I all yours? Could I possibly give any of it to someone else?"
Cuihua's face was already flushed crimson from the tide of passion, and now hearing him speak such indecent words with such a serious expression, even her earlobes turned red enough to drip blood: "Hmph, you dog of a man, you're just awful!"
Cuihua resolved that if her attendant maid noticed anything amiss, she'd claim she'd been chased by a stray dog while taking a walk to digest her meal.
After all, she wasn't good at lying—it was all that dog of a man's own fault.
But when the maid attended to her face-washing, she only noticed the lingering redness at the corners of Cuihua's eyes: "…Your Highness, have you been crying?"
Cuihua's heart faltered. She took the handkerchief and wiped her face haphazardly, kicked off her embroidered slippers, and burrowed into the brocade quilt in one motion, speaking in a muffled voice: "No… hurry and put out the lamp. I'm exhausted. I need to sleep."
What Cuihua didn't know was that the reason Huai Che was so confident they wouldn't be disturbed even if they made some noise was that he had already "with ulterior motives" sent word to Xiang Lan.
He'd said that today he would try to make things clear with her, using the excuse that the constraints of royal rules had worn him to the bone over the past few days, and humbly begged to end their marital bond here, no longer accompanying them thereafter.
His words were humble, resigned as he said to Xiang Lan: "My family was poor, and before I turned thirty no girl was willing to marry me. My hometown was raided by western barbarians, and while fleeing to Qingyun Town I accidentally fell off a cliff. Fortunately, the princess saved me, and we became husband and wife for two years—that was already a tremendous blessing. Now that I've even been brought into this peaceful land of Liang, I dare not hope for more."
Finding a place to ditch him once they entered Liang's borders had always been the established plan for Liu Qingzi and the others.
But hearing these words come voluntarily from Huai Che's own mouth, paired with his desolate expression, struck a different chord—especially since after ten days of traveling together, Xiang Lan and the others had gotten along quite well with him.
Xiang Lan couldn't help but think: the Liang Kingdom's imperial examination system was flourishing and well-established, with a long tradition of selecting talent from among the common folk. This brother Huai Che spoke with uncommon eloquence and had a fine appearance—if not for his injured leg, perhaps they could petition the Empress and give him a chance to prove himself through scholarly achievement, entering the princess's household with proper legitimacy.
Then, shifting his thoughts, he reconsidered: Huai Che's leg was injured, but his temperament and learning were both genuine. He couldn't compete for the position of principal or secondary consort, but since the princess still cherished their old bond, keeping him in the household as a bedmate or kept man wasn't out of the question either…
Unfortunately, Huai Che seemed resolute in his decision, asking only for a final private word with the princess.
His words also showed consideration for them: "The princess is pure of heart and values her attachments. If you're nearby, she might think you forced me into this, which would only put you in an awkward position."
After the lamp was extinguished, the maid reported Cuihua's "crying" to Liu Qingzi and Xiang Lan.
This gave Liu Qingzi pause.
The princess had grown up in the countryside; her heart was simple now and she wouldn't overthink things.
But once she returned to the palace and saw more of how things worked there, it was hard to say she wouldn't learn that Liu Qingzi was the one who'd orchestrated abandoning Huai Che.
If Huai Che settled peacefully somewhere by then, the princess probably wouldn't make a fuss—she might simply accept that today's parting was for the best for both of them.
But if anything untoward or accidental were to happen to Huai Che afterward… given how much the princess cared for this village husband of hers right now, she would inevitably come back to settle the score.
The next morning, after days of overcast gloom, the sky finally cleared. The azure heavens were washed clean.
Cuihua slept until the sun was high in the sky before waking. The soreness in her waist and legs hadn't faded, and her pent-up frustration layered with morning grumpiness made her call out in her usual coquettish tone: "Husband…"
She called several times before she heard the maid's respectful inquiry from outside the door: "Your Highness, are you awake? Shall this servant come in to attend you now? And your husband… he's already waiting in the carriage. Shall this servant go fetch him?"