The heat coiled up like a fiery serpent. Muxue froze for an instant before violently wrenching herself away.
"Princess?" The Matrons in the room asked in confusion, hurrying closer to check on her.
Muxue pulled her hand back into her sleeve, feigning composure as she said, "It is nothing. My hand was just a bit numb."
By her right shoulder, he let out a low chuckle.
He said nothing more, and the world beneath the crimson veil returned to silence.
But the candy had indeed reached his hand. After a moment, she caught the sweet, pleasant scent of milk candy.
After a long while, the lead female official arrived and escorted the two of them to their respective rooms to change.
Taking off the Ceremonial Robe, she donned her court attire. A maid knelt at her feet to straighten her court robe, while the hair-combing Matron recited auspicious blessings as she coiled Muxue's hair into the style of a married woman.
Nearby, another Matron stood ready with red cotton thread, waiting to perform the "face threading" for her.
There was a slight sting. When Muxue opened her eyes again, the bronze mirror reflecting the daylight showed a version of herself dressed entirely as a wedded wife.
As the Nuptial Wine Ceremony began, the guard couples standing under the eaves began to sing Manchu wedding songs in a beautiful, harmonious melody.
Accompanied by the singing, Muxue was supported as she took her seat on the red felt carpet before the bridal bed. With the rustle of silk, several gilt-edged kang tables were brought over, and a green jade nuptial wine cup was placed in her hand. The jade was cold, chilling her fingers.
It made her think of the warmth of his palm from earlier—a thought that flashed by and vanished.
She drank the nuptial wine; it tasted smooth and mellow, with a faint hint of fruit. However, it was quite strong, and the alcohol gradually began to go to her head. By the time she had finished the prosperity dumplings and changed her clothes again, she felt a bit lightheaded as she was led back to sit on the bridal bed.
Realizing this and fearing she might lose her senses, Muxue pinched herself hard. The surge of pain cleared her mind slightly.
The veil was lifted, and for a moment, everything seemed tinged with red. By the time her vision returned to normal, the guests' congratulations and festive words had ended.
The Matrons and maids exited with smiles, leaving only Muxue and Dorji in the room.
Red candles flickered. Dorji stood by the bridal bed while Muxue remained seated. She glanced at him; standing like that, he seemed almost insolently tall.
Muxue stood up on her own, intentionally stepping onto the huanghuali footstool to bring herself nearly level with Dorji.
From this angle, it was easier for her to observe his expression and adjust her words accordingly.
"Our marriage today is for the sake of Manchu-Mongol friendship. Khan Father values Mobei and holds the Tüsheet Khanate in high regard, which is why I have been wed to you."
Dorji watched her with quiet eyes.
Muxue chose her words carefully. "Since I have married you, I will remember Khan Father's teachings to maintain Manchu-Mongol friendship and protect the dignity of the Tüsheet Khanate. I will never let you lose face in public. But… but strictly speaking, today is only the second time we have met."
She gripped the corner of her robe, her palms sweating.
"This is truly a bit too fast. I am not yet prepared to share a bed with you."
"Furthermore, with the many rituals today, I am truly exhausted and feeling unwell. If the consort could be understanding, perhaps we could wait a few days before… do you understand what I am saying?"
Dorji gazed at her face without blinking, looking thoughtful.
After a moment of silence, he said, "I understand. You're shy and don't want to consummate the marriage right now."
What does this have to do with being "shy"! Muxue frowned, but wary of his temperament and fearing that a rebuttal might provoke him, she simply nodded vaguely.
For some reason, the corners of Dorji's mouth curled up.
He sat down on the bridal bed and bent over to remove his boots, saying, "You sleep on the inside."
"What?" Muxue said urgently. "I just said—"
"I heard you clearly." Dorji looked up at her. "I won't force you. I'm truly tired now; your wedding customs have far too many rules. It’s not nearly as straightforward as on the grasslands."
Seeing Muxue still looking dazed, he reached for a cloisonné candlestick from the nearby armrest table and pulled out the red candle. He started to hand it to her, but after a glance at her, he pulled over the embroidered red bed curtain and wiped the handle of the candlestick.
"I originally had a very beautiful small silver knife, but when I changed clothes, they said I couldn't carry a sharp blade for fear of harming the Princess."
Dorji handed the cloisonné candlestick to Muxue. "Hold onto this and sleep on the inside. If I do anything untoward, you can just hit me with it."
As he spoke, he tapped his head with his left hand.
"Can we sleep now, Princess?"
Lying on her side atop the quilt cover featuring mandarin ducks playing in water, Muxue held the candlestick with both hands, still feeling a sense of unreality.
Behind her, the man's breathing was within reach.
I'm really not used to this, she thought. Even though Dorji's sleeping posture was very proper—facing outward and leaving her a large space—and even though there was no snoring and his breathing wasn't even heavy, she couldn't get used to sharing a bed with a man for the first time.
Muxue rolled over, turning from her side onto her back.
"Still not sleeping? There's a lot to do when we wake up," Dorji said with his eyes closed.
Muxue gave a small "mm" and stared blankly for a long while before rolling back onto her side.
"Does the Princess need a lullaby to fall asleep?"
"I—do—not—"
She pulled up the quilt and curled into a ball, her most comforting sleeping position.
But her heart remained uneasy. The marriage wasn't consummated; how was she to report back tomorrow? Would there be rumors…? She ordered herself not to think about it, but the more she tried, the faster her thoughts fell like driving rain.
She let out a soft sigh.
"Sleep, Princess," Dorji's voice sounded weary behind her. "Tomorrow, a new sun will rise."
A new sun. It was remarkably similar to the ending of a novel she used to love.
She recalled the plot of that novel, Gone with the Wind, thinking, After all, tomorrow is another day. Gradually calming down, she finally drifted into a deep sleep.
A new day, and new sunlight shone upon the bed.
Muxue sat up. She was the only one left inside the bridal curtains. The entire quilt covered her, and its four corners had even been tucked in tightly so no draft could enter.
She stood up, draped an outer robe over herself, and stepped into her soft shoes.
By right, there should have been nannies and matrons waiting in the outer room to serve her as soon as she called, but the previous night, Muxue had used her "shyness" as an excuse to tell everyone not to stay, so she could speak privately with the consort about not consummating the marriage.
Thus, it wasn't until she pushed open the door that the nannies and matrons stationed far off under the eaves of the second courtyard noticed. They immediately scrambled over, competing to hand her clothes and bring her hand warmers and bed warmers.
"Princess, it's the middle of winter. What if you catch a cold?" Nanny Wu chided, taking a hand warmer from the maid Rong'er and tucking it into Muxue's hands.
"I'm fine," Muxue said, cradling the hand warmer. "Where is the consort?"
Nanny Wu grinned. "He's in the front court practicing martial arts. Says it's a habit of many years. Oh my, he really is young and strong, swinging his blades and staves around in just a single thin layer of clothing."
She continued her chattering. "The Princess was slighted, though. The consort told us that he drank too much last night and accidentally fell straight asleep. He asked us to help persuade you, fearing you'd be angry. Those Mongolian lads are truly too reckless, forcing so much wine on him!"
Muxue's grip on the hand warmer tightened. "He said that?"
"Yes. Don't be upset; things like this happen often among common folk. There will be plenty of time in the future, no need to rush…"
Muxue gave a distracted response and headed toward the front court.
The princess's residence was a four-courtyard compound, with side rooms and lean-tos at the front and back of each courtyard. When discussing the layout, the west wing of the second courtyard had been assigned to the consort.
In the middle of the courtyard, Dorji, dressed in a thin white robe, was wielding a blade with formidable prowess.
Seeing Muxue, Dorji sheathed the blade, tossed it casually to a servant, and strode over.
"Awake?"
"Yes."
Muxue stepped forward and said in a low voice, "You said… you drank too much?"
"Yes, it saves them from pestering us further."
"But I'm afraid people will mock you for that."
"It doesn't matter. Being laughed at won't cost me a pound of flesh."
Dorji looked down at her, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Is the Princess worried about me?"
"I am not!"
Dorji didn't mind. He suddenly turned. "Wait for me."
He went into the room and came back out holding a small knife. The knife had a silver scabbard inlaid with red coral and turquoise; it was exquisite and very beautiful.
"Here, for you."
Muxue's eyes widened slightly. "This… this isn't necessary."
Dorji laughed. "What are you thinking? It's not for cracking my skull open."
He gently stroked the red coral on the scabbard, his tone suddenly softening. "My mother left this to me. I always planned to give it to my future wife. Now, it is your knife."
Muxue stared at the blade. "But…"
"Why so many 'buts'?" Dorji said brooks no argument. He took the hand warmer from her and pressed the silver knife into her hand instead.
The weight of the silver knife sent a cold shiver through Muxue.
Dorji leaned down, the color of his eyes pale, like amber wine in a jade bowl.
"Princess, you will stop being shy. I am the man most worthy of your love in all the Mobei grasslands."