“The bride has arrived! The bride has arrived!”
Supported by attendants, Su Qing’er slowly stepped down from the sedan chair. Though guided carefully, her vision was a blur of red beneath the veil, and she inevitably stumbled.
Seeing her difficulty, Chen Jinghan ignored the surrounding laughter and teasing. He bent down, scooped her up in one swift motion, and strode toward the main hall.
“Mm—” Before Su Qing’er could react, her body lifted into the air, cradled securely in his strong arms.
This wasn’t what the matrons had described… Was this really how one entered her husband’s home? Flustered, she felt the veil tremble with her quickened breaths.
Chen Jinghan could hear her heart pounding. He wondered how she could be so light—like a feather in his arms, not even as heavy as an iron hammer.
A faint fragrance drifted from her—soft and pleasant.
From today onward, this delicate, gentle woman would be his wife. He couldn’t help but want to see her face.
Fortunately, someone nearby softly reminded him that the veil could not be lifted before the bridal chamber. Only then did he rein in his wandering thoughts.
Su Qing’er sighed inwardly. A true warrior—utterly lacking in etiquette. It seemed her future days might be difficult.
Still carrying her, Chen Jinghan followed instructions—stepping over the brazier and completing the ceremonial gestures. It was his first time marrying; he had never imagined weddings to be so cumbersome, with so many demands placed upon the bride.
Glancing down at the woman in his arms, he felt an inexplicable pang of tenderness.
At least by carrying her, she wouldn’t have to endure so many exhausting rituals.
Inside the main hall, General Chen and Madam Chen were already seated, anxious from waiting. At last, they saw their son entering—carrying the bride.
“Han’er! You—you just walked in like that?” General Chen’s face darkened at the guests’ suppressed laughter. It was a joyous day, and he held back his temper with effort.
Madam Chen, however, nudged him reproachfully. “Why scold the child? Can’t you see how pale he looks from exertion? Han’er, quickly set her down and have some tea.”
“You!” General Chen shot her a sideways glance. Always spoiling the boy. If he hadn’t personally raised him, who knew what he would have become!
Chen Jinghan merely smiled. Gently, he set Su Qing’er down and murmured softly, “We’re home. Don’t be afraid.”
His voice was deep and steady. Hearing it, Su Qing’er’s heart unexpectedly calmed.
After bowing in the hall, the matrons and maids escorted Su Qing’er to the bridal chamber, while Chen Jinghan remained to entertain guests.
Inside the chamber, her stomach growled audibly with hunger. When she sensed no one nearby, she carefully felt her way to the table—but found nothing to eat.
Disappointed, she returned to sit on the bed—only to feel peanuts, longans, and lotus seeds scattered across it.
May you soon bear sons.
Her cheeks flushed at the symbolism.
She had thought herself still young, yet in a single day she had become a married woman, entering an entirely unfamiliar household.
Meanwhile, Chen Jinghan smiled so long at guests that his face nearly stiffened.
Watching them feast and drink, he suddenly remembered something. Making an excuse, he slipped out—though not before being stopped at the door and forced to drink three large cups.
Slightly unsteady from the alcohol, he staggered toward a door and pushed it open.
Creak.
The sudden sound startled Su Qing’er. She had been debating which bed snack to eat first and froze, thinking she’d been caught.
Chen Jinghan stepped inside and saw his bride sitting upright, unaccompanied, looking pitifully alone.
He approached quietly, pulled a small round stool in front of her, and gently placed two oil-paper parcels upon it.
“You must be hungry. Eat something to tide yourself over.”
With that, he left.
Recognizing his voice—the husband she had yet to see—Su Qing’er was surprised.
She never imagined he would think to bring her food.
Lifting her veil halfway, she opened the parcels. One contained pastries; the other, dried cooked meat.
How thoughtful.
A faint smile touched her lips as she took a bite. When hungry, everything tasted sweet.
Weddings were truly exhausting. By calculation, she would have to wait until evening before properly meeting Chen Jinghan.
Perhaps her earlier assumptions about him had been unfair. Though a military man, his heart seemed gentle. Such a person likely possessed decent character.
Lost in thought, and still recovering physically, she gradually drifted to sleep.
She awoke vaguely to loud commotion and jolted upright, remembering she was newly wed. Quickly, she lowered her half-raised veil.
“Everyone, please return. My wife is delicate—let’s not frighten her,” Chen Jinghan was saying, blocking those who wanted to storm the bridal chamber.
“Hahaha! Groom, already protecting your wife? Careful you don’t become henpecked!” they teased.
Chen Jinghan did not deny it. Pressing his palms together, he pleaded, “Brothers, colleagues—grant me some face.”
Seeing his sincerity, they relented, pilfered a few coins and trinkets from him in jest, and dispersed.
Chen Jinghan pushed open the chamber door. The bride still sat upright.
He strode over, picked up the ceremonial scale used to lift the veil, and extended it toward her—then hesitated.
Su Qing’er heard his footsteps approach. Her heart leapt; her hands clasped tightly together, twisting nervously.
Taking a deep breath, Chen Jinghan slowly lifted the veil.
A delicate, luminous face appeared before him.
He forgot to breathe.
Such beauty existed in this world? Her skin was fair, her eyes shimmering with emotion, her nose elegant, her lips gently curved—more beautiful than any painted celestial maiden.
Su Qing’er raised her gaze and met a pair of dark, bright eyes in a handsome, square-jawed face.
So this was her husband—Chen Jinghan.
She had imagined a rough, unkempt soldier. Instead, he was a refined and striking young man.
They both stood stunned.
After a moment, Chen Jinghan ventured softly, “Wife.”
Su Qing’er did not respond, but her ears flushed red.
Seeing her radiant beauty, his throat tightened slightly. He began by removing his outer robe.
“You—” She turned her back, still unable to accept a man undressing before her.
He smiled reassuringly. “Don’t be afraid. I reek of wine—I’m worried it will bother you. I’ll only remove this outer robe.”
His frankness only deepened her blush.
The matrons had carefully instructed her about the wedding night—but the thought of physical closeness with a man she had just met was more than she could bear.
Sensing her discomfort, Chen Jinghan, now in his white inner garment, lifted a quilt and spread it on the floor.
“Rest easy. Until you’re willing, I won’t force you.”
With that, he lay down on the floor, fully dressed, and closed his eyes—his movements smooth and decisive.
Seeing the cold ground beneath him, Su Qing’er felt a trace of guilt.
“You… come sleep on the bed. As long as you don’t… don’t…”
The words caught in her throat, too shy to continue.