Wanqing relaxed on the stool, watching him walk toward the bed, and couldn’t help but chuckle.
“The maids will take care of the bedding…” Thinking he was tidying up, she kindly reminded him.
“I know.” The little one’s reminder made Leng Mingye smile as he turned to look at her, continuing to reach for the pillow by the bedside.
“Then you…” Seeing him deliberately go for the pillow despite knowing better, Wanqing asked with amused surprise. Just then, she noticed him pulling out a white silk cloth from under the pillow. As he unrolled it and rolled up his sleeve, his fingers faintly glowing with internal energy, he pressed them against his own arm.
Shocked, she urgently asked, “What are you—?” But before she could finish, he made a small cut on his arm, letting a few drops of blood fall onto the silk. After a few drops, he sealed the wound with a touch and folded the silk, tucking it back under the pillow.
“The wedding attendants will come to check later. Though we’ve been together before, your status is different now. If they find no proof of your purity last night, there will be gossip.” Having done all this, Leng Mingye turned to see her puzzled expression.
With a faint smile, he stepped forward, wrapped an arm around her waist, and sat down beside her, whispering, “You…” His thoughtfulness and care touched her. She didn’t know how he was aware of such customs—her mother and grandmother had only vaguely mentioned the silk under the pillow. Now she finally understood.
“Let’s go. I’m sure everyone’s waiting impatiently.”
Seeing her blush at his words, Leng Mingye’s lips curled affectionately as he helped her out the door.
Once they left, maids entered to clean up. Spotting the bedding and silk cloth being carried out, Wanqing’s face flushed even redder. Her modern mindset had never considered such traditions, but she was grateful for his meticulousness.
“Come,” Leng Mingye chuckled at her expression and led her forward.
As newlyweds deeply in love, despite rising close to noon, they faced no reprimands when paying respects to her mother, Feng Liusu, and serving tea to her father, Nangong Haotian. After the ceremony, they were dismissed to rest.
Noticing the dark circles under her eyes, Leng Mingye tenderly escorted her back to their room. Breakfast was served by maids Honglian and the others. Once they finished, he urged her to rest while he stepped out.
Naturally, red envelopes were given to Honglian, Qingfeng, and Baiyu. After distributing them, Wanqing curled up on the bed and quickly drifted off—whether from exhaustion or the sudden release of tension, sleep claimed her swiftly.
Though Feng Liusu, the King and Queen of Daqi dearly missed their daughter and this rare reunion, the three days passed quickly. Despite Wanqing sleeping through most of the first day, her mother and grandmother sought her out early each morning afterward.
Leng Mingye longed to hold his wife and rest properly, but he swallowed his complaints. Knowing he’d already “stolen” her first night, he reluctantly yielded, letting the three women bond.
Soon, the day of departure to Boguo arrived as planned.
“Qing’er, ride with me today. The carriage is padded so you can sleep or sit as you like. I’ve also prepared snacks.”
Watching the palace courtyard bustling with preparations, Leng Mingye made his request early.
But Feng Liusu interjected, “I think I’ll accompany Qing’er to Boguo. As in-laws, it’d be embarrassing not to know each other’s homes. Mingye, you and Ye’er can share a carriage. Qing’er and I will take another.”
Leng Mingye had envisioned traveling with Wanqing and her father, but Feng Molin unexpectedly decided to join. With Feng Liusu tagging along, he’d assumed there’d be enough carriages.
These past three days, except for the first, they’d monopolized Wanqing’s time. Though he yearned to be with her, their presence forced him to wander the palace with Baiyu and the others.
At night, he’d return hoping for intimacy, only to find her already asleep. Suppressing his desires, he’d hold her through the night.
Now, even the journey to Boguo offered no respite. Feng Liusu’s decree separated him from his wife, pairing him with her brother in a hastily arranged carriage.
Early winter in Daqi was mild, but Boguo was frigid. Glancing resentfully at his meticulously prepared carriage, then at his wife, he sighed.
“What’s wrong? Do you object to me riding with Mother?”
Noticing his sulky expression—reminiscent of his nightly restrained affection—Wanqing feigned ignorance, amused by his usually aloof demeanor now so openly needy.
“We’re newlyweds! Aside from our first night, these past days I’ve barely touched you. By the time I return, you’re asleep. Do you know how hard it’s been?” he whispered, aggrieved.
“We have a lifetime ahead. My father and uncle—how often will we get this time together? I know it’s tough, but they’re my family. They just want to ensure I’m safe.”
Chiding him gently, she soothed his pout. His possessiveness warmed her, but under her uncle’s amused gaze and mother’s pleading eyes, she couldn’t refuse.
“Fine. You only care about them,” he grumbled, though careful not to offend. “I’ll ride with Uncle.”
With a resigned smile, he headed toward Feng Molin’s carriage.
(No judgment on Leng Mingye’s pettiness—a man celibate for over twenty years, finally smitten and tasting passion, only to be thwarted at every turn. But complaints aside, he swallowed his pride and complied.)
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