“Her hands are so small.”
Shen Wangshu thought she’d misheard. Ever since she transmigrated into this book, her mind-reading ability usually only worked when someone’s emotions were stirred. But Chen Ting’s inner voice just now had sounded perfectly calm.
And… who in the world would get emotional over someone’s hands?? That was way too strange!
When she tried listening again, the voice had already vanished, and her surroundings were quiet once more.
In the days before the wedding, Granny Liang instructed her every day on the procedures. She knew what she had to do. Although the bridal veil blocked her sight, the gait of the person holding the other end of the red silk ribbon was steady and unhurried. With the matron of honor supporting her, they reached the hall and completed the rites without any mishaps.
General Chen’s parents had died on the battlefield years ago. In place of parents, they bowed to the old madam. Shen Wangshu could not hear the old lady’s thoughts, so she had no way of knowing her feelings or attitude for now.
Still, in the original novel, the old madam of the National Duke’s Manor was the only one who treated the original Shen gently. She likely bore no malice.
After the couple’s mutual bow, Shen Wangshu was sent into the bridal chamber. The manor was crowded with guests today. Outside, she heard plenty of noise, but once she entered the room everything fell silent. The constant buzzing in her head finally calmed.
The distance from the Xiahous’ estate to the National Duke’s Manor wasn’t far, and the wedding rites ended while it was still early. The socializing outside would likely take a long while. Shen Wangshu lifted her veil herself and quietly examined the bridal chamber.
Scarlet silk draped from the beams, double-happiness characters embroidered on the windows—everywhere she looked was a sea of red. Though daylight still lingered outside, the marriage candles were already lit. Beneath the red gauze canopy, the wedding quilt was smooth and fine to the touch, embroidered with a lifelike pair of mandarin ducks playing in water.
Taohong entered carrying a basin of water and nearly jumped. “Miss, why did you lift the veil yourself?”
The sky outside was still bright. Shen Wangshu had been blindfolded almost the whole day, and now that no one was around, she felt no need to be overly proper. “It’s fine.”
The round-faced girl beside Taohong, timid and quiet, was named Lüliu. Lady Xiahou had assigned her as a maid to accompany Shen Wangshu upon marriage. Lüliu silently helped her wash her hands with warm water, and when she knelt to massage her feet, Shen Wangshu hurriedly stopped her. “There’s no need. Thank you.”
The young girl blushed. “This is what a servant should do, miss—you don’t need to thank me.”
She had been sold to bury her father and was bought by Lady Xiahou in passing. Perhaps because of her steady temperament, she quickly learned the rules and was assigned to serve Miss Shen not long after. She had not expected her new mistress to be such a fairy-like beauty—gentle, quiet, and never one to hit or scold the servants.
After living here for a while, Shen Wangshu had inevitably absorbed some ancient customs and become a bit lazier. Whenever she tried to do anything herself, people would look at her in shock.
Not wanting to be treated as strange, she tried her best to adapt to being served. But to have a girl barely in her teens kneeling to massage her feet… that she still couldn’t accept.
Before long, Granny Liang came in. She saw the removed bridal veil but said nothing. Instead, she said, “The general is still outside entertaining guests. It will likely take one or two hours. Miss, please eat something to tide you over. The small kitchen has already been told to prepare a simple meal—it will be brought over shortly.”
She had gotten up early and hardly eaten anything. At noon she’d been jolted around in the sedan chair, and afterward came the many wedding procedures. Shen Wangshu had long been hungry. She hadn’t expected any real food today and had planned to nibble on pastries, so the news of an actual meal surprised her.
“Did the general arrange this?” she asked.
Granny Liang nodded. “The general also said he won’t come back yet, so you can relax here alone. If you’re tired, you may take a short nap.”
Such thoughtfulness left Shen Wangshu genuinely surprised.
Whether in the original story or in the rumors she’d heard since arriving, Chen Ting was said to be cold, solitary, and difficult to approach. Yet he had arranged something so considerate?
It seemed the rumors truly weren’t reliable.
The original Shen’s health had always been poor, and hunger now made her stomach ache. Shen Wangshu didn’t want to develop gastric problems, so she ate a pastry from the table along with some water.
Chen Ting had said he wouldn’t return for the time being, and indeed, as night fell there was still no sound outside. The small kitchen sent a bowl of hot noodle soup. After she finished eating, rinsed her mouth, and walked a few rounds in the room to digest, still no one came.
Taohong and Lüliu had stepped out, leaving Granny Liang to instruct Shen Wangshu in certain bridal “arts.” The wisdom of the ancients was not to be underestimated—even she, a modern woman, was completely stunned hearing them.
When the lesson ended, Granny Liang calculated the time and reminded her, “It’s almost time, miss. Do you remember what I just taught you? Now that you’ve married into the National Duke’s Manor, your husband is your support. Pleasing him in the bedchamber is proper—don’t be shy.”
Shen Wangshu was still thinking about Granny Liang’s talk of “harmonizing yin and yang to bring balance to the cosmos,” and nodded vaguely. “I understand, granny.”
Before leaving, Granny Liang glanced back. The delicate bride sat on the bed in her flaming red wedding dress, her expression calm. She didn’t look like someone who would act impulsively—more like someone who had resigned herself to fate. She shouldn’t do anything foolish.
When the room was finally empty, Shen Wangshu was nervous at first. But after waiting another half hour with no movement from outside, her nerves turned into drowsiness.
She had gotten up before dawn and hadn’t napped at noon. She pulled the veil back over her head, and before long she had dozed off against the bed.
She didn’t know how much time had passed when the sound of the door opening woke her from her light sleep.
Her heart pounded wildly. It seemed the original Shen truly had symptoms of neurasthenia—her physical reaction after being startled was overly intense. Shen Wangshu even felt cold sweat forming in her palms.
Chen Ting paused at the doorway and asked from a distance, “Did I scare you?”
Still alive.
Chen Ting found himself oddly astonished seeing the petite, dignified young woman calmly sitting at the bedside waiting for him.
Other than the five who had died on the journey—killed by someone’s schemes—the remaining two brides had reached Moyun safely. But for various reasons, they had taken their own lives in the bridal chamber before ever meeting him.
Chen Ting had sent people to investigate. One girl had long been in love with someone else; the other had been pampered since childhood. She probably couldn’t bear the hardship of Moyun’s barren lands, combined with her parents forcing her to marry an old man like him.
Two consecutive times, he had stepped into the bridal chamber only to find the corpses of young, delicate girls. It had left a shadow in his heart.
Although he had long known he was someone born without being loved, to be avoided this intensely still left him disheartened.
So seeing Shen Wangshu sitting there alive and waiting for him, the famed General Who Guards the Nation felt, for once, a rare sense of caution.