The morning passed in the training ground, and in the afternoon, Zhou Wen stayed in his study reading. It wasn’t until dusk that he bathed, changed into a robe, and went to the backyard.

The maidservants on the princess’s side knew that he would be staying overnight, so they quietly served him, pouring tea and water, maintaining proper etiquette.

Zhou Wen calmly sat in the main hall, while Princess Huarong read a book in the side room. It was only after they heard that dinner was ready that she came out.

The couple sat face to face at the table, each eating their own meal, observing the rule of not speaking while eating. They were an exemplary couple of noble birth and poetic refinement.

After dinner, Zhou Wen rinsed his mouth and washed his face, then followed Princess Huarong into the inner chamber.

Once the maidservants left, they extinguished all the lights.

Zhou Wen hung his robe and quietly entered the canopy bed. After about a quarter of an hour, there were suppressed noises from inside.

A vigorous warrior in his prime, who only had the opportunity once every ten days, would naturally not be perfunctory.

Princess Huarong’s nails deeply sank into his shoulder, leaving a few small crescent-shaped marks.

Spring nights are short, and there is an end.

When Princess Huarong couldn’t even lift her arm anymore, Zhou Wen finally released the delicate ankles held tightly in his hands.

Like two armies at war, intense during battle, but once the battle was over, Zhou Wen consciously lay on the outer side of the bed, clearly demarcating himself from the princess in the next bed.

As the chaotic breath gradually calmed down, Princess Huarong sat up, draped in a thin veil robe, lazily shaking the golden bell placed by her pillow.

Yingyue entered, holding a lantern and carefully supporting Princess Huarong to the bath.

Once the master and servant left, the room fell into darkness.

Zhou Wen felt the marks on his shoulder.

Her usual gaze was as cold as frost, and he wondered how she would look at him at that moment.

After reminiscing, Zhou Wen got out of bed, wiped himself with a bucket of cold water prepared in the inner room, and lay back down, waiting.

Each time, she would spend some effort cleaning up afterward, and Zhou Wen patiently waited.

Finally, the faint sound of footsteps grew closer and closer. As she pulled back the veil, Zhou Wen instinctively sat up, making room for her.

Princess Huarong silently lay back on her side.

When they were together, they seldom spoke unless necessary.

However, tonight, Princess Huarong took the initiative to speak: “I have told you before that I caught a cold in my childhood, and the imperial physician declared that it would be difficult for me to conceive in this lifetime.”

Zhou Wen: “I remember.”

Princess Huarong: “I have a connection with Feng Yuanyuan. Tomorrow morning, I will recognize her as my adopted daughter.”

Zhou Wen: “In that case, I will be her adoptive father.”

Princess Huarong: “This is between her and me. Your Highness doesn’t need to go out of your way, just instruct everyone in the mansion to respect her.”

Zhou Wen: “If she does not recognize me as her father, how can the household servants truly respect her? And how could she genuinely regard the mansion as her home?”

In Princess Huarong’s mind, the timid eyes of Feng Yuanyuan appeared.

Princess Huarong: “The prince’s concern is her good fortune.”

Zhou Wen: “Princess, you flatter me. It’s just a small effort on my part.”

.

At dawn, a soft ray of light silently seeped through the cloud-colored gauze curtains, adding a hazy brightness to the inner chamber.

Weiyun, an early riser, approached Feng Yuanyuan’s bed. Seeing the young girl sleeping peacefully with shallow breaths, she felt relieved and quietly left.

Little did she know that Feng Yuanyuan was immersed in a dream.

In the dream, she appeared like an invisible shadow, aimlessly wandering in an exquisitely luxurious chamber.

She also saw Princess Huarong lying on a bed with a handsome and refined man, covered by two quilts.

Princess Huarong seemed exhausted, her face rosy, her eyelashes lowered. She turned away from the man and whispered, “I have told you before that I caught a cold in my childhood, and the imperial physician declared that it would be difficult for me to conceive in this lifetime.”

Feng Yuanyuan, who heard these words vividly, instinctively looked at Princess Huarong’s abdomen.

In the midst of her shock, the handsome man spoke in a calm tone, “I know.”

Without giving Feng Yuanyuan much time to ponder, Princess Huarong continued talking to him.

The conversation was brief, and when the beautiful woman and the man on the bed closed their eyes and fell asleep, Feng Yuanyuan’s eyebrows twitched, and she woke up.

What met her eyes was her own room in Taoran Hall, dimly lit.

Feng Yuanyuan changed her position to lie flat, gazing absentmindedly at the canopy.

Having experienced the incredibly accurate previous dreams, Feng Yuanyuan vaguely felt that this dream would also come true.

The princess couldn’t bear children, she desired a daughter, and she had set her sights on her.

Had Lord Fu long known that the princess lacked a daughter, and she lacked a mother, and thus orchestrated a plan to fulfill their respective wishes?

Thinking she had deciphered the true meaning behind Lord Fu’s dream guidance, Feng Yuanyuan breathed a sigh of relief.

If Princess Huarong were to treat her kindly for no reason, offering her food and drink in the Zhen Nan Prince’s residence, she would feel unworthy.

Now that she knew about the princess’s regret, Feng Yuanyuan would certainly treat the princess with filial devotion, making her happy and never provoking her anger!