Su Qing’er’s cheeks flushed, her heart aflame, her eyes brimming with affection. Her delicate face was radiant, exuding irresistible charm.
Chen Jinghan, exhausted from the night’s intimacy, planted a few more tender kisses on her cheeks to soothe her, and finally, the couple fell into a deep, peaceful sleep under the cover of night.
The next morning, it was once again Cui’er knocking that roused them from slumber.
“Wife, did you sleep well last night?” Chen Jinghan teased with a playful grin.
Su Qing’er rolled her eyes. “Husband, stop mocking me!”
“Ha! How could a defeated soldier dare to mock his wife?” Chen Jinghan said, lifting her carefully and helping her sit up to dress.
After washing and dressing, they first went to pay respects to their elders, then joined the family for breakfast.
Aunt Wang was still staying with them and naturally joined the meal. She was quick-eyed and noticed the faint purple marks on Su Qing’er’s neck. She didn’t mention it directly but subtly tugged Lady Chen’s sleeve, signaling a silent warning.
Lady Chen’s expression immediately hardened. “Qing’er, you two may be newlyweds, but don’t overdo it. Jinghan has duties at court every day—how could his health endure overexertion?”
Su Qing’er blushed fiercely, murmuring, “Mother-in-law, your advice is noted. Qing’er will remember.”
General Chen shot his wife a sharp glare. Such ignorance—how could she speak like this in front of so many, leaving the servants to gossip?
Seeing Qing’er embarrassed, Chen Jinghan quickly interceded: “Mother, it’s not Qing’er’s fault at all. It’s all mine. From now on, I’ll control myself—fasting, praying, and living a life of restraint.”
The more he spoke, the more exaggerated he became. Lady Chen hastily scolded him: “You child! What nonsense! How will you give me grandchildren if you live a life of restraint?”
“Enough talking! Eat!” General Chen slammed his chopsticks down, silencing the room except for the sounds of picking food.
The family ate quietly, and after the meal, departed in order of seniority.
Chen Jinghan let Qing’er go about her tasks while he went to attend to his mother. Aunt Wang was away, so he brought fresh fruit, peeled one, and offered it to her.
Lady Chen finally smiled. “Jinghan, have you finally remembered your mother?”
“Mother, how could I forget? I am your son—how could I forget you?” he replied, attentively pouring tea and serving her.
Ever since he married, he had not shown her the same attention, and now with Qing’er around, her son’s affection seemed completely claimed by his wife.
“Mother, don’t worry. I am forever your son. Qing’er is a good daughter-in-law. We’ll both honor you and Father. Can’t our family just live happily together? You giving Qing’er the cold shoulder—does it make me feel good?”
He poured his heart out, leaving Lady Chen a little embarrassed, though she could not entirely let go of her lingering resentment over the marriage.
“Mother, the most important thing in marriage is my happiness. Qing’er is beautiful, intelligent, well-bred, and respectful to you and Father. Please, treat her kindly and don’t make things hard for her, alright?”
Chen Jinghan pleaded earnestly, knowing her heart was soft.
Lady Chen finally smiled. “Alright, alright. I’ll give her a chance and see how it goes.”
“Good! My dear mother, soon I’ll have Qing’er accompany you for tea,” he said, seizing the moment.
Lady Chen waved her hand. “No need—Aunt Wang and I have plans to buy some fabric later.”
“Perfect! I’ll have someone fetch silver for you—only the best for your elegance,” Chen Jinghan said, coaxing her into laughter.
Returning to their room, he noticed Qing’er was in the study. Following her, he found her focused on painting orchids, unaware of his entrance.
Cui’er attended her with brushes and ink. Chen Jinghan signaled her to leave, then set about grinding ink beside Qing’er.
She had nearly completed her work, but one branch eluded her. Thoughtfully, she rested her chin in her hand.
“Let me show you,” Chen Jinghan finally said, stepping forward and sketching lightly on the paper.
Qing’er noticed him and smiled. “Husband, you’re here?”
“Oh, I had some official matters but took leave until the afternoon,” he said.
Seeing where he had sketched, she asked curiously, “Husband, are you good at painting?”
Shaking his head, he said, “Not really. I’ve simply traveled a lot. I’ve seen orchids swaying in the wind—this is how they move.”
He took her hand, letting it guide his own, and a graceful branch appeared on the paper.
“Wonderful!” Qing’er exclaimed. All her painstaking effort could not match his effortless stroke. She raised her brush to erase it, but Chen Jinghan stopped her.
“Wife, this is our first painting together. Let’s keep it,” he said.
Finding his words reasonable, she allowed him to add a few more strokes.
Chen Jinghan insisted on painting together, and Qing’er, though reluctant, let him hold her hand as they completed the work.
“Magnificent! You are truly talented, my clever wife!” he praised, wanting to have it framed and hung in their room.
Qing’er laughed. “Husband, it’s just a casual sketch—nothing special.”
He wrapped his arms around her waist, whispering, “Anything related to you is special to me.”
She gently wriggled free, glancing around. “Husband, it’s broad daylight—we shouldn’t…”
“Alright, alright. I just wanted to be close while we can. If war breaks out, who knows when we’ll see each other again,” he said.
Suddenly, a messenger arrived with urgent news: the Emperor summoned General Chen to the palace immediately.
Qing’er hurriedly helped him dress. Chen Jinghan mounted his horse and galloped off.
Her heart sank with an ominous premonition.
Soon, he returned, surrounded by family asking questions. His face darkened. War had broken out ahead; the Emperor ordered him to lead troops immediately.
Lady Chen clutched him, crying—her son had just returned home, and now he must go to the battlefield.
Su Qing’er did not cry; she silently packed his gear, ensuring he had thick clothes and warm blankets, wanting to give him everything he might need.