Mu Qingyao’s wedding was set for early spring.
Not only because there were auspicious days for marriage in early spring, but also because the sooner her wedding was held, the better—delaying it could lead to complications.
So, less than a year after her engagement, Mu Qingyao would leave the Gu residence to marry into Prince An’s household, becoming the wife of the heir apparent.
Marrying a man she wasn’t familiar with wasn’t something Mu Qingyao hadn’t thought about before, so it wasn’t too much of a problem. As long as she maintained her facade, she could get through the days.
Moreover, Mu Qingyao was very good at comforting herself. She quickly found something to be happy about: her wedding was scheduled to avoid the summer, which she hated the most. This meant she wouldn’t have to worry about being drenched in sweat during the exhausting and time-consuming wedding ceremony, and thus wouldn’t endure a smelly wedding night.
With this thought, the gentle smile hidden behind her fan became a little more genuine, for this was indeed a very important matter to her.
Farewell to her family, leaving home, and the wedding ceremony.
After being sent to the bridal chamber, Mu Qingyao gently twirled her fan, thinking about how to get the servants of Prince An’s estate to bring her some hot water early. After all, it was a joyful day, and if the heir drank too much at the banquet, he would surely reek of alcohol. Having hot water would allow him to freshen up.
But would it seem strange for a newlywed bride to give orders to her husband’s servants as soon as she entered the household, especially for something as delicate as asking for water?
Though Mu Qingyao was well-mannered and knowledgeable, this was her first time marrying, so she was inevitably inexperienced.
But she soon realized she couldn’t command the servants of Prince An’s estate at all. The newly decorated bridal chamber had only her inside. Unless she called loudly for the women standing outside, she had no way to ask them to fetch hot water.
Mu Qingyao couldn’t go to the door herself, as that would break etiquette, so she had to give up.
Bored from waiting in the bridal chamber, Mu Qingyao began composing stories in her head to pass the time.
When she heard movement outside the door, Mu Qingyao knew the heir had arrived. In that fleeting moment, a crucial question came to her mind—
What was her husband’s name again?
Mu Qingyao panicked slightly. Their names had been written on the engagement papers, but she had only looked at them once, and so many things had happened since then that she had forgotten. Furthermore, people always referred to him as “heir” or “young master,” rarely using his actual name. Otherwise, Mu Qingyao wouldn’t have forgotten such an important detail.
But she quickly calmed down, realizing that she could simply call him “heir,” just as other wives called their husbands “master.” The Princess Consort called the prince “my lord,” so it wasn’t a big deal after all.
Mu Qingyao regained her composure and began preparing herself for her wedding night.
At that moment, Wen Qize, unaware that his new bride had forgotten his name, nervously and anxiously pushed open the door to their shared chamber.
The woman in her wedding dress, sitting by the bed, looked serene and beautiful. He walked over, and upon seeing her face, made more vibrant by heavy makeup, he couldn’t help but be stunned.
Mu Qingyao had put on her mask, ready to embrace her new life as the heir’s wife. However, after drinking the ceremonial wine, her carefully maintained smile shattered when her husband said, “I know you may not have wanted to marry me. If you don’t wish to, I won’t touch you—until you’re willing.”
Mu Qingyao was completely stunned.
“Do you think you’re in a storybook?” Mu Qingyao, though deeply fond of novels, had always been able to separate them from reality. Now, she posed a soul-searching question to Wen Qize.
Wen Qize froze.
Not being familiar with storybooks, he clearly didn’t understand what Mu Qingyao meant.
Mu Qingyao had to explain it to him in simpler terms: “Whether I want it or not, you marrying me and then not touching me won’t make people think you’re respecting me—it will make them think you’re rejecting me.”
Wen Qize became anxious and blurted out, “I’m not! I’m just happy to have married you, how could I possibly reject you?”
Mu Qingyao was a bit taken aback by his sudden confession and stammered, “You…”
Wen Qize turned his face away. “I just didn’t want to force you.”
Being treated with such care stirred an indescribable emotion within Mu Qingyao, and she became even more frustrated with herself for not remembering his name.
Because of Wen Qize’s honesty and consideration, Mu Qingyao seemed to lose her ability to maintain her facade. She couldn’t bring herself to lie and say she was willing, as doing so felt like it would betray the sincerity he was showing her.
At the same time, Mu Qingyao tried to warn herself not to be swayed so easily. The heir’s current behavior might just be due to the freshness of the wedding. If she took it seriously and let him into her heart, once he grew tired or bored, the only one left hurt would be her.
In the past, Mu Qingyao would have been able to hold firm. But this situation was different. She had lost her blood relatives, her most trusted confidante Gu Fu wasn’t by her side, and she had married into a completely unfamiliar environment.
After all, she was just a young girl. Refusing such tenderness after all she had been through was simply too difficult.
Mu Qingyao asked him, her tone unconsciously flat and without emotion: “So, what do you plan to do?”
“We could pretend that we consummated the marriage,” he suggested.
Mu Qingyao immediately thought of the common tropes in storybooks—like pricking a finger to stain the bridal sheet with blood, or a man and woman sitting on the bed making all sorts of strange noises to fool the listening maids outside.
She suspected that was exactly what the heir had in mind.
And indeed, that was the case. Mu Qingyao couldn’t help but ask, “Do you often read storybooks, Your Grace?”
Wen Qize looked confused and shook his head.
Mu Qingyao was puzzled. How could someone who didn’t usually read storybooks have such ideas that aligned perfectly with them?
After thinking it over, she shook her head and said, “Let’s not make things so complicated. Unless you plan on divorcing me, this day will come eventually.”
Just when Wen Qize had calmed down during their conversation, he suddenly grew nervous again. “You mean…?”
Mu Qingyao gave a simple “Hmm.” At that moment, she didn’t feel shy or embarrassed. Instead, she found herself hoping the heir of An Wang would unexpectedly decide to take a bath, as she could already smell the alcohol from the banquet on him.
As soon as she thought it, Wen Qize suddenly turned around and walked out of the room.
Mu Qingyao was stunned again. He… left?
What kind of development was this?
She tried to guess his intentions using the logic of a storybook, but she couldn’t figure out what he was doing.
The door was wide open, and the older women guarding it occasionally peeked in, looking just as confused.
Time ticked by, and just when Mu Qingyao thought she would spend the night alone, Wen Qize finally returned.
He had changed his clothes, and his hair was slightly damp. It seemed that…
“I just took a bath. Someone almost vomited on me while we were drinking earlier, so I thought I’d clean up a bit.”
At that moment, Mu Qingyao felt genuine joy.
So when Wen Qize sat down beside her and slowly moved closer, she showed no signs of resistance.
The heavy bed curtains separated the inside of the bed from the outside world, creating two distinct realms.
As Mu Qingyao experienced intimacy for the first time, she realized that not everything written in storybooks was a lie.
She never expected that she would use such a foreign tone to call out to someone, nor that the heir would express dissatisfaction with being called “heir.” In a voice that made her knees weak, he breathed into her ear, urging her to call him something else.
Having read countless storybooks, Mu Qingyao guessed that he probably wanted her to call him by his name.
—But if she told him at that moment that she didn’t remember his name, would he get so angry that he would leave her, or would he be so furious that he’d kill her on the spot?
Mu Qingyao swallowed hard and softly called, “Husband…”
Mu Qingyao couldn’t help but admire herself. Even though she was being pushed to the brink of losing her mind, she was still able to react so quickly.
Judging by Wen Qize’s body language, he seemed to be satisfied with the way she called him “husband.”
Completely overwhelmed like a lone boat tossed by the ocean, Mu Qingyao had no idea how captivating she looked—her usually indifferent face now flushed with desire, and her uncertain voice softly calling out “husband” in a way that was irresistible.
The sounds coming from the bridal chamber didn’t quiet down until well past midnight. Mu Qingyao was so exhausted that she couldn’t even move a finger, yet she was still holding on to the faint hope of whether she could take a bath before sleeping—such a ridiculous thought.
As she drifted off to sleep, she was suddenly awakened, though it could have only been a short while, maybe half a cup of tea’s time. She felt someone lift her up and place her into water.
Mu Qingyao was so moved she almost cried. She didn’t even have the energy to wonder why everything was going exactly as she wished. She simply whimpered and clung to Wen Qize’s neck, her dependency making it hard for him to control himself.
The next morning, when Mu Qingyao woke up, she questioned whether some parts of her memory from the previous night were real. It was hard to believe that Wen Qize had so perfectly done everything she had wanted.
However, regardless of her doubts, she knew she couldn’t ask him about it. Not only could she not ask, but she also had to endure the physical discomfort and get up early to serve tea to her in-laws.
Wen Qize had woken up earlier than her. By the time she finished dressing, he had already completed a set of martial arts training in the courtyard.
When he saw her step out of the room, Wen Qize eagerly walked over and hugged her.
Though Mu Qingyao kept her expression calm, she couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable being hugged by someone drenched in sweat.
This discomfort wasn’t something she could control, nor was it driven by any malice. She wanted to be like a normal person, to not be so particular about cleanliness, but she just couldn’t. This had caused both herself and others unpleasant experiences in the past.
Because of this, she had learned to disguise herself.
Her thought was this: since she couldn’t change who she was, she would at least hide it. The discomfort from her obsession with cleanliness had to be her burden alone to bear—others shouldn’t be troubled by her personal issues.
After all, there was only one Gu Fu in this world, and only Gu Fu would understand her pain when she once said she wanted to cut off her finger because she thought it was dirty. He didn’t treat her like she was crazy and even hid all the scissors in the courtyard so she wouldn’t harm herself.
Mu Qingyao plastered on the gentle smile she hadn’t managed to pull off last night, lightly patting Wen Qize’s arm as a reminder. “Husband, it’s time to go to the main hall and serve tea to Father and Mother.”
Wen Qize let go of her, stared at her for a while, and suddenly asked, “Are you cursing me in your head?”
Mu Qingyao: “…”
Could this man actually read her thoughts?
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