Chapter 517: A Daughter’s Secret Thoughts

The incense had already been lit—a single glowing ember at its tip, exuding thin, curling strands of pale smoke that drifted lazily upward.

The bridal chamber Zhu Ping’an had imagined was now laid out before him in breathtaking opulence. It was filled with gold, jade, and rare treasures, dazzling in its splendor. Located within the innermost courtyard, the main hall stood prominently at the center, accompanied by a spacious, adjoining warm chamber. It was this warm chamber that had been arranged as the bridal room.

Two octagonal palace lanterns hung before the chamber doors, each adorned with the double happiness character. Their frames were carved and lacquered, inlaid with glass panels. These glass panes had been purchased at great expense by Li Shu’s father from red-haired Western merchants in the South Seas. Originally, the lanterns had been intended to be made of red gauze, but upon acquiring the glass, he had specially commissioned these refined lanterns and included them as part of the bridal dowry.

The chamber doors themselves were painted in festive red, decorated with celebratory couplets, and at their center were two exquisitely designed double happiness characters. Standing at the entrance were two personal maids of Li Shu. One of them held a scroll in her hands, craning her neck as she looked expectantly toward the courtyard gate.

Inside, the room was dominated by shades of red. Even the furnishings—screens, porcelain vases, jade ornaments—were adorned with double happiness motifs. A crimson carpet covered the floor, casting a warm, glowing hue throughout the room, filling it with an air of joyous celebration.

Behind a finely crafted zitan wood screen stood the most important feature of all—the bridal bed.

A red gauze canopy hung loosely around it, and the bedding beneath was thick and soft, embroidered with lively, chubby children in various playful poses. The pillows, however, bore an unusual design—two plump ducks stitched upon them, lending a charming and distinctive touch.

In front of the bed stood an elegant low table, upon which rested a jade ruyi scepter, several steaming dishes, and two halved gourds about the size of a fist, intricately crafted and inlaid with gold, jade, and emerald.

The bridal chamber was, in every sense, luxurious beyond compare.

And yet, compared to the delicate beauty seated upon the bed, all this grandeur paled into insignificance. Under the radiance of her presence, even the glittering treasures seemed to dim, as though stripped of their worth.

The young woman—already breathtaking in her natural beauty—now wore a phoenix crown and a resplendent red bridal gown, making her appear nothing short of ethereal.

Her skin was smooth and luminous like jade. Her lips, naturally rosy without the need for paint, curved ever so slightly upward in a hint of playful charm. In her slender hands, she held a scroll, her pale, delicate fingers turning its pages slowly. As she read, her dark, ink-like eyes flickered with intelligence and mischief, revealing a blend of cleverness and teasing spirit.

The scroll she held was written in neat, elegant small-script calligraphy. If Zhu Ping’an had been able to see it from where he stood in the second courtyard, he would have recognized the contents immediately—it was filled with poems he himself had written.

There was the playful farewell piece he composed during the county examination journey: “Once bitten by a snake, one hears birds cry everywhere.” There were the works from the Immortal Poetry Gathering, “Farewell” and “Ode to Snow.” There was the “Mulan Ci” he wrote at Drunken Gentleman Tower—“If life were only as it first met…” There was his bold youthful declaration in “Jiangchengzi.” Even the pieces from the Qinhuai River—“White Fox” and “Blue and White Porcelain”—were all there.

“Miss… if the young master fails to compose a poem, will you really not let him in?” asked a round-faced little maid beside her, her tone tinged with nervousness.

“Oh? Feeling sorry for him?” The young lady lifted her gaze from the scroll and glanced at her maid, the corners of her lips curling into a teasing smile.

“Miss… of course not… you’re teasing me again…” The maid’s face flushed instantly, her voice turning shy and flustered.

“Hehe… if that stinky toad can’t produce a poem, then he won’t be allowed in,” the young lady said with a playful laugh, her tone light and mischievous.

“Ah? You really won’t let him in?” The maid’s mouth fell open wide enough to fit an egg.

“No entry. If you feel that sorry for him, how about I send you to warm his bed instead?” the young lady said, her voice soft as orchid fragrance, laced with a teasing, almost rogue-like charm. She lifted the maid’s chin gently with the scroll in her hand, dragging out her words deliberately.

“Miss…” The little maid’s face turned even redder as she protested, her voice stretched with embarrassment.

“What, unwilling? Then I’ll have Qin’er go instead,” the young lady said casually, as though it were of no consequence.

“How can that be? She’s not even a bedmaid!” the round-faced maid immediately objected.

“Oh? So that leaves only you as the bedmaid, doesn’t it?” The young lady’s smile deepened, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement.

“Miss…” Only then did the maid realize she had been tricked again, her face burning as she protested.

Watching her flustered state, the young lady couldn’t help but smile. She reached out and pinched the maid’s soft, slightly chubby cheek. “You silly girl. If you were born into another household, you’d have been eaten alive—bones and all.”

“I have you, Miss. As long as you’re clever, that’s enough,” the maid replied, her speech slightly muffled from having her cheek pinched. At the same time, she eagerly began massaging her mistress’s legs in a most attentive manner.

“You do know how to take the easy way out,” the young lady said with a faint smile.

Encouraged, the maid grew even more diligent in her efforts, carefully gauging her mistress’s mood—something she had long since learned to do after staying by her side.

“Miss… will you really not let him in?” she asked again, taking advantage of her mistress’s good mood.

“As if,” the young lady rolled her eyes lightly and closed the scroll. “My mother-in-law dotes on that stinky toad of a son like he’s the apple of her eye. If she finds out I didn’t let him into the bridal chamber tonight, she may not say anything outright, but she’ll certainly remember it. I’m not foolish enough to make things difficult for myself. Being a daughter-in-law isn’t like being a carefree girl in one’s own home.”

“Even if he doesn’t write a single word, he’ll still be allowed in,” she added, her gaze drifting toward the door.

“Oh…” The maid nodded in sudden understanding.

“Oh what, you silly girl,” the young lady flicked her forehead lightly with the scroll. “The emperor isn’t worried, yet the eunuch is anxious. Writing is exactly what that stinky toad excels at—how could this possibly stump him?”

“Then why make him write at all?” the maid asked, rubbing her forehead.

“I just want to see what he’ll write,” the young lady pouted slightly, her red lips forming a small, displeased curve. A faint trace of jealousy colored her voice. “Writing things like ‘If life were only as it first met’ for those improper, unworthy courtesans… do they deserve it? And that line—‘The sky’s blue hue waits for the misty rain, while I wait for you…’” she continued, her tone growing sharper.

“Those women should be minding their own business, not trying to seduce other people’s husbands…One day, if I’m in a bad mood, I’ll go beat them up again… just thinking about it makes me angry. Next time, drawing turtles on their faces won’t be enough…”