From the shore suddenly drifted the voice of a woman.

Lizhu looked over in surprise.

“Congratulations to Madam Shen and Young Master Pei on their marriage. The newlyweds, please bow to Heaven and Earth—”

“What are you still standing there for? Bow to Heaven and Earth.”

A voice tinged with laughter sounded beside her—Pei Zhaoye knelt down next to her.

Lizhu dazedly followed his lead and bowed.

…Eh?

How did they suddenly start bowing to Heaven and Earth?

“Bow to the parents—”

He held the still-bewildered Lizhu’s hand and bowed toward the direction of Luoyang.

Lizhu gradually came back to her senses.

With her identity, and since they were now on the water while the officiant stood on the shore, this was indeed the best way.

“Wait.”

Just as they were about to rise after bowing to Luoyang, Lizhu suddenly grasped his wrist bone and asked, “Where is the direction of Yiling?”

Pei Zhaoye’s movement paused.

After a while, his gaze flickered, and he pointed in a direction.

Lizhu straightened her skirt and, together with Pei Zhaoye, respectfully bowed toward that direction.

“Husband and wife bow to each other—”

Their eyes met.

The fine snow carried a faint scent of oranges.

This was not Lizhu’s first marriage, yet it was the most special one.

She was not the Princess of Qinghe marrying her childhood sweetheart, the young master of the Tan family; nor was she the princess betrothed by imperial decree to a court official rewarded for his military merits.

She was simply Madam Shen, and he was Langjun Pei.

Passing through the golden sea of orange lanterns, the small boat came alongside another vessel.

Only then did Lizhu realize that he truly had no intention of doing anything on that tiny boat—for he had already prepared another, much larger one.

Lanterns and silk hung from it, charcoal burned brightly, and even a barrel of hot water—someone had come in advance to heat it.

“…Where did this boat come from?”

Lizhu looked in astonishment at him as he untied her cloak.

Pei Zhaoye said, “Naturally from Hongye Stronghold. The others have all returned to Yiling, only this one stayed near Pingning County. I sent someone this afternoon to make the preparations.”

…No wonder Gu Bing’an knew so much!

In a daze, Lizhu let him unbind her hair, remove her outer robe, and send her into the bathing room.

Even after she finished bathing and lay on the bed, she still felt a little dazed.

How had she suddenly gotten married?

Lizhu rolled over blankly.

And so quickly, too—her two marriages in her previous life had each taken half a year of exhausting preparation, yet this time it was over in the blink of an eye?

However…

It didn’t feel rushed.

Hugging the soft pillow on the bed, Lizhu’s fingertips absentmindedly scratched at the embroidery upon it.

It was clear that all the bedding and pillows on the bed were new, made of silk—soft and smooth. Though not as luxurious as Shu brocade from the palace, they were still quite comfortable…

Wait a moment.

How much did all of this cost?

Hadn’t they just been the “poor couple lamenting every day”? How had they suddenly ended up sleeping on silk?

Pei Zhaoye, coming out after bathing, met a pair of slightly judging eyes.

“—You’re the one who’s not virtuous!”

Lizhu sat cross-legged on the bed, her loose black hair softly draping over her shoulders, thin and delicate beneath the lamplight like a white peony.

“How can you spend money so recklessly!”

The ends of his hair were dampened by water, the tips lifting slightly like the edge of a blade.

Pei Zhaoye seemed entirely deaf to Lizhu’s accusation.

He placed a thin sheet of something from a box into a bowl of water to soak, then poured in a small bottle of something else. Lizhu smelled a fragrant scent.

Curious, she went closer and asked, “What’s that?”

“You haven’t used…” Midway through speaking, Pei Zhaoye quickly stopped himself and held the bottle beneath her nose.

Lizhu said, “Rosewater?”

Pei Zhaoye smiled. “I was afraid you’d dislike where this thing came from. You like everything scented, so of course this has to be scented too.”

Lizhu was a little surprised.

She seemed as though she should feel moved—but once she remembered what that thing was going to be used for later, she somehow couldn’t feel moved at all.

The red candles glowed, the gourd on the table was filled with wine, and the two of them sat side by side at the table.

Lizhu’s eyes widened slightly: “Wait, this is way too much, isn’t it?”

The wedding hejin wine was usually just a small sip for the auspicious meaning, why was his so full it could knock her unconscious?

Pei Zhaoye cast her a glance. “It’s fine. Drink as much as you can—this time.”

…What did he mean by this time?

Lizhu felt there was something strange about his words. She cautiously took a small sip—only for the red string on the other end to tug her forward.

She saw Pei Zhaoye tilt his head back and drink it all in one go, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down.

Lizhu’s heart stirred slightly.

To her, this was an already very familiar process, but it was his first time experiencing it.

She did not think this wedding was simple and crude, but would he feel regret, that they could not invite guests and friends, to marry once with lively excitement?

After thinking for a moment, Lizhu lowered her head and drank another large mouthful of wine.

She put down the gourd ladle, her cheeks already flushed red like sunset clouds, and said seriously:

“Pei Zhaoye, later when we reach Luoyang, let us properly get married once more!”

Get married again?

Wasn’t she tired of it.

Pei Zhaoye did not care; as long as it was her, he would undergo the wedding ceremony however many times she wanted.

Of course, not a single wedding night could be skipped either.

Several of the lamps and candles had been blown out.

Two pairs of dragon and phoenix candles burned silently, their orange-yellow candlelight filling the cabin.

The kiss after rinsing their mouths carried a slight salty astringency, and a lingering trace of wine aroma.

Pei Zhaoye did not kiss in a hurry. The tiger’s mouth of his hand pressed against her jaw, first enclosing her lips, kissing with tender lingering suction. Only after a long time did the tip of his tongue push past her shell-like teeth, occupying her mouth bit by bit.

It took Lizhu a good while to react to why.

Her body seemed too tense.

At this moment, those overly distant and unwilling-to-recall memories in Lizhu’s mind awakened once more.

The first time… it hurt a lot…

The specific images, the dialogue, and the sensations of that intimate skin contact were all blurred and hard to recollect, but that pain of her whole body being split open remained vividly fresh in Lizhu’s memory.

Pei Zhaoye felt her fingers clutching his lapel were very forceful.

As if fearing something.

The desire swirling in his eyes cooled somewhat.

No matter how it was in dreams, at this moment, she had no experience and could not accept him directly like this.

He said: “Lizhu, sit on top.”

Dizzy and dazzled from the kissing, Lizhu obediently straddled and sat up.

“Not here.”

He laughed lowly, turning his head to peck kisses on her knee, “Sit on my face.”

Lizhu: “…I don’t want to.”

This is too strange.

“Be good, sit up here, otherwise it will hurt later.”

“…Hurt then hurt, let it hurt me to death, even if it hurts me to death I don’t want to do that.”

Pei Zhaoye looked at her expression of facing death with equanimity and raised an eyebrow:

“Really?”

Just as Lizhu was about to nod with a firm expression to show her resolve, the next moment she felt him shift his waist, instantly experiencing that splitting pain from her memory.

Lizhu scrambled and climbed onto his head.

“So good.”

His lips pressed against her and kissed.

The wheat-colored back of his hand showed bulging veins, fingertips slightly sinking into the snow-white skin.

Lizhu held onto the railing by the bed, a thin layer of sweat on her back. Because she was too ashamed, she did not want to make a sound, but this made Pei Zhaoye’s currently unrestrained sounds even clearer.

“Gulp… Ha…”

Tongues wetly entwined, Lizhu lowered her head and saw the bridge of his nose glistening with moisture. He lifted his eyelids, the corners of his eyes slightly raised as he swept a glance at her.

…Her mind went blank.

The completely limp Lizhu was laid flat by him.

The fragrance of rose attar grew stronger and stronger.

She opened her misty eyes and saw him half-kneeling above her, his shoulder line broad, breathing rapidly, abdominal muscles tightly drawn, slightly rising and falling.

His eyeballs moved downward.

Pei Zhaoye saw Lizhu suddenly cover her face and curl up on her side.

“Haven’t you seen it before, why are you shy?”

“…No.”

She revealed a pair of eyes through her fingers, filled with embarrassment and a hint of faint anger.

“I just suddenly thought… in the reed marshes of Yushan… the first time I saw you, they said… how did they know?”

Pei Zhaoye recalled.

—The mountain lord has the appearance of a immortal, the goods of a donkey, if you follow our mountain lord, guaranteed you won’t fancy another man for the rest of your life!

“Haven’t you ever bathed by the river in summer?”

Lizhu looked at him.

“…Oh, you really haven’t.”

He fitted himself snugly into place, and the next moment, with a hand wet and dripping with rose scent, he pressed her hands above her head.

Pei Zhaoye bent down with an attitude of controlling the entire situation, like a novice hunter attempting to dismantle and consume his first captured prey.

Inexperienced, cautious, and exceptionally treasuring.

Lizhu only had nervousness.

Her memories were not unripe, but this body was so unripe it did not permit him to act recklessly.

“…Could you wait until I say it’s okay before you go in?”

Her tone carried a bit of discussion and pleading.

Dark, intense eyes looked down at her from above, the depths of them profoundly black.

“Alright.”

Lizhu relaxed, her tense body loosening slightly.

He lowered his head and kissed her.

The skin of his palm was excessively smooth, just stroking it could become addictive, let alone when licking; it practically made one want to devour her bite by bite.

“What kind of ointment does the Princess apply every day, why is it so white, so soft?”

Lizhu slightly raised her head, her neck bending backward, her breathing very rapid.

“I don’t…”

“Your waist is so narrow, no wonder you had no strength to move it earlier.”

The tiger’s mouth of his hand was scorching, his middle finger sinking into the hollow of her waist.

“But there’s not a bit of muscle. Princess, can you not even ride a horse?”

Lizhu: “What’s wrong with not knowing…”

“The Princess must learn.”

His tone carried a certain pressure at a time like this.

“The Princess stays in the military camp, stays on the battlefield. The situation can change at any time. I may not always be able to protect you properly. Knowing how to ride a horse at least allows you to escape with your life.”

Lizhu felt her heart soften slightly upon hearing this:

“…Alright.”

“Mm, the Princess can use me to practice in the future.”

“…?”

He moved very slowly, probing, his wet tongue circling the shell of her ear, occasionally interspersed with phrases like:

“Not yet?”

“The bedding is already completely wet…”

“It’s fine, even just a little bit inside is already very comfortable.”

Lizhu felt her scalp go numb, “Can you not speak?”

“Cannot.”

He glanced at her sideways, “Too idle, idle from top to bottom, can only speak.”

“…” He wasn’t idle anywhere, was he.

Lizhu really couldn’t listen anymore, closed her eyes:

“…Fine, is that okay?”

Pain instantly surged through her. Lizhu’s eyes welled up with misty tears, but before they could fall, he carefully licked them away.

His body radiated a dry, burning heat, fiercer than the charcoal brazier nearby.

Yet it was also a familiar scent.

Very safe, very gentle.

So strange, it wasn’t the kind of pain from her memory that made tears impossible to stop.

“Does it hurt a lot?”

He lowered his gaze and kissed her cheek.

“Like this, even if you say it’s okay, I wouldn’t dare to continue.”

Lizhu shook her head, hooked her arms around his neck, and said softly:

“Because it’s someone I like, so, it only hurts a little.”

Pei Zhaoye felt her body soften, familiarly clinging to him, enveloping him.

Following the traced-back memories, she understood him better than he understood himself, cooperating, fitting together perfectly everywhere.

…

A thin layer of sweat covered their bodies. Pei Zhaoye stilled completely after the intensity, breathing heavily, his stern face dazed and scattered, not speaking for a long time.

After a while, Lizhu asked quietly: “Why have you… suddenly stopped saying anything again?”

He lifted his head, his pitch-black pupils reflecting the disheveled, dark-haired girl before him.

“Because it feels too good.”

“Feels fucking amazing.”