Chapter 515: No Reading on the Wedding Night

“Flowers carry their delicate fragrance, the moon casts its gentle shadows—such a spring night is worth a thousand pieces of gold.”

Zhu Ping’an had barely settled down in his room with a book, only having read a short while, when his mother, Madam Chen, returned from the new residence where she had been overseeing the preparation of the bridal bed. Without so much as a second word, she promptly chased him out and sent him toward the new house. Tonight was the long-awaited wedding night of Zhu Ping’an and Li Shu—their bridal chamber lit by candles and adorned for union. As the saying went, a single moment of a spring night was worth a thousand gold pieces; every breath of this evening was precious beyond measure. Besides, Madam Chen was already dreaming of holding her grandchild as soon as possible.

Reading?

At a time like this, with the bridal chamber awaiting—what use was reading? What could possibly be more important than carrying on the family line?

Thus, the moment Madam Chen saw her son still buried in his book, she wasted no time. With swift, decisive action, she drove Zhu Ping’an straight out of the room and toward the new residence.

Outside, Zhu Pingan’s father and his elder brother, Zhu Pingchuan, had already strung up two long lines of firecrackers in the alley between the old and new houses. Just as Zhu Ping’an was pushed out the door by his mother, the firecrackers were lit. Crackling explosions filled the air—pa pa pa pa—and in an instant, the atmosphere burst into jubilant festivity.

Ordinarily, the wedding night would take place on the very day of the marriage ceremony. But Zhu Ping’an and Li Shu were an exception. On their wedding day, they had still been at sea, unable to complete the traditional rites. And so, their long-delayed bridal night was finally being made up for today. In most cases, such a night would be accompanied by lively guests teasing the bride and groom in a ritual known as “disturbing the bridal chamber.” However, since their wedding and bridal night had been separated, that customary merriment was absent.

The practice of “disturbing the bridal chamber” was an old Chinese wedding tradition. Its purpose was not mere mischief or jesting at the expense of the newlyweds, but rather to ward off evil spirits. With many people gathered, the strong presence of yang energy would drive away lurking malevolent forces, ensuring safety and blessings for the couple.

Zhu Pingan’s father and elder brother lighting the firecrackers served as a substitute for that lively crowd—an echo of the same intention: to banish ill fortune and usher in auspiciousness.

“Go on and rest early,” Zhu Pingan’s father said, giving Zhu Ping’an a glance and a small nod. His tone was restrained, his meaning implied.

Compared to him, Madam Chen was far less subtle.

As she shoved Zhu Ping’an—still dressed in his groom’s attire—through the doors of the new residence, she spoke bluntly, without the slightest hesitation: “Put in some effort—let your mother hold a grandson soon.”

More effort?!

With Li Shu?

Wouldn’t that be harming a minor?!

Hearing this, Zhu Ping’an nearly stumbled over the threshold, his heart jolting in alarm. How could I possibly lay a hand on a girl who’s still underage… The thought alone made him uneasy, even as heat crept up his neck.

“Look at this silly boy, so worked up,” Madam Chen chuckled, covering her mouth as she laughed. She had mistaken his flustered reaction for eagerness and impatience.

Once Zhu Ping’an had been pushed inside, Madam Chen promptly shut the gate of the new residence from the outside, adding an extra layer of “protection” to the bridal night—ensuring no one would intrude.

Yet, after closing the door, she did not leave.

Instead, she hunched over slightly and crept along the outer wall of the courtyard, moving stealthily like a cat. Reaching a corner, she crouched down, holding her breath, stretching her neck forward. One hand cupped her ear while the other pressed against the wall, as though she possessed some extraordinary ability to hear through it. Not long after, she even beckoned her eldest son’s wife, Juan’er, to join her.

Was this… eavesdropping?

“Mother, you…” Zhu Pingchuan, standing nearby, froze with a dark expression. His face flushed red in an instant, as if some embarrassing realization had dawned on him. If Mother is listening in on my younger brother’s wedding night… then what about mine back then…?

“Shh! What do you know?” Madam Chen shot him a glare, clearly annoyed at his raised voice. “Of the three unfilial acts, having no descendants is the worst. What’s there to be shy about?”

Her tone was firm, dismissive. To her, this was no cause for embarrassment—if anything, it was a matter of utmost importance.

In ordinary times, eavesdropping like this would be looked down upon. But on a wedding night, it was an exception. Wherever there was the teasing of the bridal chamber, there would almost certainly be people sneaking around to listen at the walls. In rural areas, it was practically an unspoken custom. Though improper, it was nonetheless a scene people delighted in on such joyous occasions.

Of course, even then, it was a privilege reserved almost entirely for women.

And truth be told, many mothers had likely done the same. After all, continuing the family line depended on this very night. They longed to hear signs that everything was proceeding smoothly inside; only then could they feel at ease. If there was no sound at all, it would instead stir worry in their hearts.

“Enough. The new house is huge—their room is far from here,” Zhu Pingan’s father finally said, unable to bear it any longer. With a look of helpless exasperation, he tugged at Madam Chen’s arm, pulling her away. “It’s a three-courtyard residence. You oversaw the construction yourself—don’t tell me you’ve forgotten. Their room is in the innermost section. What could you possibly hear from here?”

“You think you know everything…” Madam Chen shot him another glare and pinched him sharply.

She felt she had used considerable force—but Zhu Pingan’s father, with his thick skin, barely reacted. Instead, it was her own fingers that stung, prompting her to roll her eyes in mild annoyance.

By now, the new residence was already brilliantly decorated. Red lanterns hung everywhere, emblazoned with the double happiness character. Crimson ribbons were tied to the trees, and rows of potted plants adorned with red blossoms lined the courtyard. Most striking of all was the second courtyard gate, where a large flower crafted from red silk was affixed above, its ribbons cascading down on both sides, vividly enhancing the festive atmosphere.

“He’s here, he’s here—the young master has arrived!”

“The young master has finally come!”

“Hehe… the young miss isn’t even anxious, yet look at how impatient you are…”

The moment Zhu Ping’an stepped into the courtyard, a chorus of lively chatter reached his ears. Looking ahead, he saw several young maids gathered at the inner gate, peeking out curiously. Their faces were bright with excitement as they whispered among themselves, barely able to contain their delight.

“Young master, greetings.”

“Young master, greetings.”

As Zhu Ping’an approached, the maids—dressed in soft pink ruqun and carrying small flower baskets—hurried forward in tiny, quick steps. They bent gracefully, competing to greet him first. Their cheeks were dusted with rouge, glowing with youthful charm.

They were all quite young—barely in their early teens, at least two or three years younger than Zhu Ping’an himself.

“Greetings,” Zhu Ping’an replied with a nod, preparing to walk inside. After all, with the main gate already shut behind him by his mother, moving forward was his only option.

“Hehe… the young master and young miss are a perfect match, a union made in heaven; may you grow old together, share a hundred years of harmony; may flowers bloom and the moon be full, and may you soon be blessed with a child…”

The maids giggled as they blocked the doorway, chirping out auspicious blessings one after another. Yet despite their sweet words, not one of them made any move to let him pass.

Zhu Ping’an was no fool. Even if he had never personally experienced such a scene, he had certainly heard of it before.

So this is how it goes…

It was much like the modern custom of bridesmaids blocking the door and demanding red envelopes—surely a tradition carried down from ancient times. Back then, there were no bridesmaids, but there were dowry maids to play the role.

He counted them—six in total.

Reaching into his sleeve, he retrieved six neatly prepared red envelopes and handed one to each girl. Instantly, their faces flushed even redder with excitement, their eyes sparkling with delight.

Yet even after receiving the envelopes, when Zhu Ping’an attempted to move forward again, he was once more stopped.

The scene repeated itself—the same laughter, the same cheerful blessings, the same unyielding blockade.

The red envelopes were accepted.

But entry? Still forbidden.

Watching the girls cover their mouths as they stifled their laughter, Zhu Ping’an suddenly recalled the amusing tale of Su Xiaomei testing her groom three times. At once, he understood—this was merely the first trial before entering the bridal chamber. And beyond this, there would likely be more challenges awaiting him.