Chapter 49

Since they’re already acting as husband and wife, shouldn’t they have a normal married life?

That’s only natural—they can’t have a sexless marriage. In modern times, if matters aren’t going the way they should, a woman might as well tidy herself up and get a divorce. It’s completely justified. Stop being so awkward about it.

Shao Qing stared at the romance book of talented scholars and charming ladies—the one she hadn’t turned pages in for a long time—and sighed for the nth time. In truth, she had long understood the reasoning; it was just that a lingering sense of unease still crept into her heart.

The main problem was that her only experience hadn’t been pleasant. Wei Jing was truly very tender with her, but it was simply very uncomfortable—the prolonged tug-of-war left her exhausted. Just the memory of it made her scalp tingle.

Ah, whatever; things will sort themselves out eventually.

Shao Qing tossed the book aside, picked up her pen thoughtfully, and began to write.

Before ending her mourning period, there was one important matter to attend to: the removal-of-mourning garments ritual.

Since she and Wei Jing could not display their mourning period openly, the ritual had to be conducted discreetly. Fortunately, Qingzhái Guards quietly procured the ancestral offerings and arranged everything privately.

She had been a very competent noble lady in her former life—well-versed in all the procedures for joyous and sorrowful occasions. Now, though, things certainly couldn’t be done according to the original standards; Shao Qing had no choice but to adjust her plans to reality, recalling and editing them as she went along.

She was very meticulous—after all, this was an important matter concerning Wei Jing’s mother—and no mistakes could be allowed.

Just as she had nearly finished making her additions and subtractions, a knock came at the door from outside: “Madam.”

It was Kou Yue.

Shao Qing immediately gathered up the stack of written papers on her desk while casually scribbling a few words on a blank, floral stationery sheet. At the same time, she replied, “Yueniang? Come in quickly.”

Kou Yue had come to deliver the medicinal meal.

Lately, the herbal meals that Shao Qing had been relying on were prepared by Kou Yue. She no longer ran her clothing shop; instead, she assisted Yan Ming as she planned to learn and become a female physician.

Kou Yue had lost a lot of weight.

After the Poison Salt case, Kou Xuan made her humbly seek forgiveness in the customary way. Before that, he had no choice but to reprimand his younger sister sternly. He didn’t hide anything from her anymore; aside from a few matters that couldn’t be spoken of, he had carefully explained all the causes and consequences to her.

This place wasn’t Hexiang—her life simply couldn’t go on the same way as before. Shielding her by keeping things hidden would only harm her.

Growing up is painful; the near disaster that almost plunged thousands of commoners into shock and self-reproach far exceeded the pain of realizing Yuan Hong’s true nature. She was in a muddled, dazed state—even upon hearing that Yuan Hong had been executed, she didn’t ask another word.

Wei Jing still relied on Kou Xuan, and since the whole matter was under Qingzhai Guards’ continuous surveillance, he let it go after a stern scolding and a light punishment. However, he emphasized that this could never happen again; otherwise…

He didn’t specify what “otherwise” would mean, but the consequences were unspoken and self-evident.

After everything they had been through, Kou Yue was overwhelmed with guilt and self-reproach—she became like a bird startled by the snap of a bowstring. She was always afraid that, being so foolish, she would be deceived if she went out alone. She dared not leave the house; she wouldn’t even think of venturing to a clothes shop. Instead, she silently stayed at home helping Wang Mi take care of the children and manage the household, visibly growing thinner with each passing day.

In the end, Yan Ming suggested that she come over and help him out. He figured there was no harm—after all, keeping everything bottled up would only make one sick.

Shao Qing took the bowl and downed the contents in one gulp. The familiar, spicy, and bitter taste rushed down her throat, churning her stomach. She closed her eyes and wrinkled her brow, struggling to endure the sensation. At that moment, Kou Yue quickly brought over some preserved fruit, saying, “Madam, please have some preserved fruit.”

The woman lamented, “I followed Dr. Yan’s instructions.” She had been meticulous and sincere—but the taste was simply beyond her control.

“It’s fine; it’s always had that flavor.”

Kou Yue’s once clear and bright eyes lost their sparkle. Shao Qing felt at a loss, too. Kou Xuan and the others had already thoroughly reviewed everything that needed analysis during her illness. So, she said nothing further—only advising that one should be extra cautious from now on, yet not let fear stop one from eating.

“Or maybe I could ask Dr. Yan if he can adjust the recipe to improve the taste?”

Thinking of Yan Ming’s foul temper, Shao Qing winced a bit and said, “Better leave it—it’s only a month’s worth of drinking left.”

“Dr. Yan may have a bad temper, but he’s a good man. I’ll just ask him.”

Despite Kou Yue’s insistence, Shao Qing had no choice but to let her be. “Yueniang, isn’t studying medicine boring?”

“Not at all.” At that mention, the usually quiet young lady finally became animated, exclaiming, “There are so many kinds of herbs, and they even need to be processed before they can be used in medicine!”

“Dr. Yan really knows a lot—he’s amazing.” She admired him so much that, after speaking, she became a bit dejected: “I’m so stupid—I can only remember a few things a day.”

Shao Qing comforted her, “It’s alright, take your time. Isn’t your medicinal soup simmered perfectly?”

“Mm!” Kou Yue smiled, tidied up her bowls, and said, “Madam, I’ll head back now.”

Her sister-in-law had cautioned her that the madam is the lord’s wife and must be treated with proper deference—she must neither act overly familiar nor cause any delays or mishaps. Although Kou Yue thought very highly of Shao Qing, having suffered a major setback once, she now took her sister-in-law’s advice in every matter. Even though she remained close to Shao Qing, she no longer dared to drop by as casually as before.

Shao Qing had said it was fine, but her reassurance didn’t make much difference, so she had to go along with her.

After bidding farewell and just as Kou Yue turned to leave, the door suddenly sounded—and Wei Jing had returned.

Upon seeing Wei Jing, Kou Yue scarcely dared catch her breath and hurriedly bowed in greeting. Wei Jing merely glanced at her and spoke in a flat tone.

Shao Qing intervened to smooth things over, “Alright, Yueniang, you go back first.”

After closing the door, the two exchanged a few words. Then she led Wei Jing to the desk and retrieved a stack of papers that had just been tucked away. “Due to our limited resources, the Empress has been made to endure undue grievances.”

She handed the documents to Han Xi and ordered the men to begin the final preparations quietly.

Wei Jing silently took the pile and flipped through the papers one by one. There were quite a lot of them. Although they fell far short of the requisite formal standards of an empress, they were indeed the best that could be prepared in secret for the sacrificial ritual at the moment.

“Surely the spirit of the Empress in heaven will not hold it against you. Do not blame yourself.” His voice was a bit hoarse, yet he continued to console himself. Listening with a heavy heart, Shao Qing squeezed his hand and said, “Mm, you too.”

Wei Jing gripped her hand tightly and closed his eyes.

---

He Hong and his party lingered at Gaoling for several days before setting off to the southeast. His stated purpose for the journey was to seek his father’s approval to inspect the salt and iron operations in the southeast—after all, he had to make the trip at least once.

Wei Jing went to see him off. Regardless of whether any lingering apprehension remained, the interactions over these recent days had been most congenial—one party was filled with trust and contentment, while the other was tearfully grateful. In this way, He Hong’s journey came to a perfectly fitting conclusion.

After bidding farewell to He Hong, another ten days passed until the designated day for ending the mourning period (removing the mourning garments) arrived.

These past few days, Wei Jing had been very silent. That evening, as soon as it was time for the duty change, he took Shao Qing and returned to the back courtyard.

Shao Qing had already headed back to her post at the front, as usual, to manage the finances for mansion. The busy life she hadn’t experienced for so long made her feel fulfilled and happy—and it kept her from overthinking.

The two of them returned to the main rear courtyard, had dinner, and once darkness had completely fallen, after dismissing Nanny Ping’s attendant Chunxi, she took out the two sets of black garments she had prepared earlier and softly called, “Husband.”

Wei Jing gave a forced smile, accepted the garments, and went to the bathing room.

They bathed and changed, and at their regular resting hour, they blew out the candles. In the darkness, Wei Jing pushed open the back window, wrapped one arm around Shao Qing, and leaped out. With a light tiptoe, he quickly vanished from sight.

Soon, the sound of the wooden clappers from the second watch could be faintly heard through the whistling cold wind. Shao Qing, wrapped in a large hooded fur cloak, tightened the collar and did not feel cold.

Wei Jing passed through the Eastern City wards and markets, finally arriving in the garden of one of the three-courtyard residential compounds.

Han Xi had been waiting there for a long time, along with Ji Huan, Zhang Yong, Chen Qi, and a group of silent, solemn Qingzhai Guards.

At the center of the garden, a sacrificial table—measuring over a zhang in length—had been set up. On it were arranged offerings: the three sacrificial animals (goats, oxen, pigs), various fruits, incense, candles, ritual paper, and other items, as well as mourning couplets and banners, all contributing to an atmosphere of deep sorrow and solemnity.

Shao Qing changed into mourning attire with Wei Jing, and she followed his side step by step until they reached the sacrificial table. He walked slowly, his steps heavy, and finally knelt before the altar, performing three deep kneelings with nine kowtows.

The night was deep and quiet, and the memorial was being held in silence—the only sound coming from Wei Jing softly reciting the eulogy.

Shao Qing raised her eyes to look at his receding figure; her face was pale and heavy, and she sighed silently.

As the night grew even deeper and the dew became heavy, even with a cushion beneath her, one could still clearly feel the chill of kneeling outdoors. However, this covert memorial did not last long—about half an hour—and then it ended.

Wei Jing stood in the cold wind, gazing for a long time at the altar before him until the incense, candles, and ritual paper had all burned away and the last spark had faded; only then did he return to himself.

“We should go,” he said. He squeezed Shao Qing’s hand—the touch was icy cold—and furrowed his brow.

“I’m not cold,” she replied. Dressed warmly enough, she was still comfortably within acceptable limits.

After changing out of her mourning clothes, Wei Jing immediately draped a large cloak over her. Shao Qing murmured a quiet word of reassurance as she reached out and clasped his hand.

Wei Jing’s eyes and brows remained solemn; he tightened his grip and softly said, “Mm.”

---

After returning to the county governor’s mansion, it was already late at night, and the two of them went to bed to rest.

Wei Jing lay on his back, his left arm still holding Shao Qing close. In the dim light within the bed curtains, he remained motionless and silent, yet Shao Qing knew he was not asleep.

Sighing softly, she let out a long-winded exhale. All attempts to persuade were futile; all she could do was give it some time to ease.

She eventually fell asleep in a daze. It was unclear whether Wei Jing stayed awake all night, but his strength was ample, and the next day, he didn’t appear any worse.

After a few days passed in this manner, Wei Jing finally returned to normal, tucking his sorrow away deep in his heart once more.

Shao Qing was delighted. Holding his hand, she smiled and said, “How about we have hot pot tonight?”

“Sure.”

The broth, simmered from large bones, bubbled in the copper pot, turning a milky white. They used the choicest cuts of lamb, beef, venison, and fish—sliced thinly—along with vegetables, mushrooms, and seven or eight varieties of shellfish.

Shao Qing loved having hot pot during the dead of winter; it warmed her from head to toe, and despite the hearty feast, it never gave her any discomfort. Wei Jing hadn’t had much appetite these past few days, so when she finally saw him recovering, she hurriedly picked out several types of his favorite venison, fish, and mushrooms for the hot pot, taking extra good care of him.

She was busy preparing everything for him while Wei Jing watched quietly as the steam from the pot permeated the air, and a gentle, warm glow softened his features.

“Ah Qing.” He held her left hand, resting on the table, wanting to say something to express his emotions at that moment. But he didn’t want to say “thank you”—they were the closest of spouses, and gratitude felt too distant. His thoughts shifted, recalling how she always beamed at him, her laughter sparkling as she said, “Husband, you are so good.”

Wei Jing murmured in a low voice, “You are so good.”

His gaze was intent, and his deep black eyes seemed to hold a quiet glow, reflecting the flickering candlelight. His warmth felt as if it could scorch the heart.

The steam was probably a bit much, making Shao Qing’s face warm. She blinked a few times and smiled, saying, “Now that you know how good I am, you should listen to me more in the future.”

It was just a playful remark, but Wei Jing responded with surprising seriousness: “Alright.”

Why was he being so serious?

His deep gaze remained locked onto her, unwavering. Seeing this, Shao Qing began to feel nervous, her heart pounding wildly. Her hand holding the chopsticks unconsciously tightened its grip.

“We…” Let’s have our meal.

She had only spoken half a sentence when Wei Jing leaned in slightly, cutting off her words.

The rich, familiar breath surrounded her as two soft lips pressed against hers. “Ah Qing…”

His voice disappeared between their lips.

It was a gentle, careful kiss filled with unmistakable tenderness. He held her close, his embrace strong and firm—she could feel the contours of his muscles beneath the fabric, enclosing her completely.

Shao Qing’s hands instinctively pressed against the front of his robe, gripping the fabric tightly. She struggled for breath, then slowly released her hold. Her dark lashes trembled before she gradually closed her eyes.

Soft touches, gentle pecks, lingering kisses—until, at last, she was laid down on the bed. His heated body pressed closely against hers, warmth enveloping her, driving away the lingering chill of the winter night.

…