“Miss, come inside. I’m afraid His Highness won’t be coming back tonight.”
Her personal maid, Yuxue, whispered softly, but Bai Chuchu shook her head. Her tone was calm, almost indifferent. “Whether His Highness returns or not, I’ll stay here and wait. I want to see for myself what kind of woman this Princess Consort really is.”
Her voice was light and airy, betraying no emotion. But Yuxue, who knew her mistress’s temperament well, understood that once her lady spoke in this tone, it meant she was already preparing for battle.
As for what sort of person this Princess Consort was, Yuxue couldn’t say—but judging from tonight, she was no meek flower either. Life in this residence was unlikely to be peaceful from now on.
Ruan Mianmian was indeed no meek flower—Lin Zhuo already sensed that. However, the maid before him appeared composed and respectful, fitting for someone from a noble household.
Of course, he didn’t know that Fangcao, standing before him, was trembling inside so badly her knees nearly gave out. But her acting was excellent, and under cover of night, her fear went unnoticed.
“Your Highness, this was given to me by Her Ladyship, the Princess Consort,” Fangcao said, bowing as she presented a small embroidered pouch.
“You were also told to deliver a message, weren’t you?” Lin Zhuo asked, not opening the pouch but fixing his gaze on her.
“Yes.” Fangcao’s heart nearly jumped out of her chest, and she instinctively lowered her head. Still, her voice remained steady. “Her Ladyship told me to relay two lines to Your Highness. She said: ‘If life were only as it was at first sight, how wistful things have since become.’”
Lin Zhuo’s body stiffened. At once, his mind replayed their first meeting in Kunning Palace.
In his memory, the girl had been delicate and gentle, quiet but steady, with a trace of warmth in her gaze—a gaze that had looked at him with open admiration and affection.
A line of poetry from Nalan Rongruo—more than enough to charm any ancient nobleman. Lin Zhuo softly repeated, “If life were only as it was at first sight…” twice under his breath, then finally untied the pouch.
As he did, he asked, “And if I were to insist on staying in Qinghui Pavilion tonight—what would the Princess Consort say then?”
“She said,” Fangcao replied, nearly weeping inside, Can’t you just stay quietly? Why keep asking questions? “The Princess Consort said: the step has already been given to you. Which side weighs heavier, Your Highness should consider carefully.”
Lin Zhuo’s hands stilled. He opened the pouch fully. Inside were small trinkets—and on top, a tiny white jade ruyi, glimmering softly under the moonlight.
“A ruyi, is it?”
Suddenly, Lin Zhuo felt a spark of genuine interest toward the princess he had barely valued before. After a brief moment of contemplation, he decisively retied the pouch and said over his shoulder, “Tell the gate matron that I won’t be staying here tonight. The secondary consort should rest well.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
The little maid replied at once and hurried off to deliver the message. Then she ran back to catch up, holding up a lantern to light his way.
Anlexuan was not far from Qinghui Pavilion—barely half a li. In no time, they arrived.
Only when Lin Zhuo’s tall, imposing figure disappeared into the bedchamber did Fangcao finally let out a long sigh of relief.
Now that the tension had broken, her legs nearly gave out beneath her. She slumped onto a footstool, clutching her chest and murmuring prayers. “Thank heavens… I don’t have to spend the night in the woodshed. His Highness truly has a good temper.”
Meanwhile, “good-tempered” Lin Zhuo was looking at his new bride with a distinctly unpleasant expression. For all her cleverness, she had still dared to challenge his authority—that fact couldn’t be ignored.
“Regardless of whether Your Highness is pleased or not,” Ruan Mianmian said bluntly, “can we lift the veil first? I’ve been starving all day.”
Even as a princess consort, she had no intention of pretending meekness—especially since her position was clearly precarious. Sooner or later, when the “boss” soared high, she’d be left forgotten in some corner anyway.
Lin Zhuo could not reconcile this lively, outspoken woman with the timid, gentle girl he had met in Kunning Palace. He sighed inwardly and used the ceremonial scale to lift her red veil. Just as he was about to say a few comforting words, he noticed crumbs of wedding pastry clinging to the corner of her mouth.
Lin Zhuo: “…”
Following his gaze, Ruan Mianmian quickly brushed away the crumbs, giving an awkward little smile. Inside, she wanted to dig a hole and bury herself.
“You said you haven’t eaten all day?” Lin Zhuo’s deep, authoritative voice sounded. Clearly, he didn’t intend to let it pass.
Ruan Mianmian bristled. What kind of emotional intelligence is this? Ever heard of not tearing people down? I’ve been starving all day—so what if I ate a few pastries?
Growing more indignant, she raised her head boldly. “Yes.”
Lin Zhuo’s mouth twitched. “I see. My eyesight works just fine.”
Ruan Mianmian patted her stomach. “But I’m still not full.”
Lin Zhuo: “…”
“…Fine. Have the maid prepare your bath and dressing.”
“No.”
She stood abruptly, grabbed his arm, and lowered her voice. “Fangcao watched me suffer all evening—don’t let her see me fail at the finish line, alright? It’s a wedding night. These are just minor details, aren’t they?”
Lin Zhuo arched a brow. “Minor details? You do realize this is our wedding night—supposedly the most important day of our lives?”
Ruan Mianmian smiled knowingly. “Oh? His Highness truly values this marriage so deeply? You really wish for us to grow old together?”
Ha! she sneered inwardly. Two old foxes playing make-believe—this is nothing but a political marriage.
Lin Zhuo: “…”
For the umpteenth time that night, he found himself speechless. Interesting. He hadn’t expected to be so mistaken about her. Who would have thought the timid little girl from Kunning Palace would, on their wedding night, reveal such sharp and fearless wit?
“Your Highness,” Ruan Mianmian said cheerfully, “it’s late. Let’s drink our wedding toast. The night is short, and we should get to the main business. For the future harmony of the household—for our mutual goals—it’s only right we have an honest, in-depth, and efficient conversation.”
As she spoke, she went to the table, took up two wine cups, and handed one to him. “This… bridal cup thing—it wouldn’t be proper for a lady to be the one taking the lead, right?”
“Heh.” Lin Zhuo smirked. So she does know it’s unladylike to be too forward.
Even with their arms entwined, the toast lacked any real romance. When they finished, Ruan Mianmian smacked her lips thoughtfully. “Not bad wine. Will I get to drink this again?”
“If you want, you can,” Lin Zhuo replied, setting down his cup and settling comfortably on the edge of the bed. “Now tell me—what exactly is it you want to have this ‘in-depth and efficient conversation’ about?”
Ruan Mianmian sat across from him, thinking for a moment as if sorting her thoughts. Then, casually glancing up, she found herself staring into Lin Zhuo’s eyes—dark, deep, and fathomless.
(End of Chapter)