Chapter 524: Tomorrow, Fallen Red Shall Cover the Path

The wind is restless, and the night begins to settle.

Tomorrow, fallen petals shall surely cover the path.

Zhu Ping’an was no fool. Looking at Li Shu’s shy, flushing face and then at the white cloth in his hand, those lines from Zhang Xian’s Tian Xian Zi immediately sprang to mind. This was no ordinary square of fabric; it had a specific name: the “Fallen-Red Cloth.”

In the eyes of the ancients, a woman’s chastity was held in far higher regard than in the modern era. A bride had to be a virgin, and this white cloth served as the ultimate test. It was named the “Fallen-Red Cloth” because it was meant to be stained by the “fallen red” of the first time.

According to tradition, this cloth would be spread across the nuptial bed on the wedding night. Once the couple had finished their intimacy, the appearance of blood on the fabric proved the bride was “pure and unbroken.” If no red appeared, the bride would be in deep trouble. The ancients didn’t understand that strenuous exercise could tear the hymen, or that some were naturally too thick or elastic to break; they certainly didn’t know that nearly a third of women do not bleed during their first time. In ancient times, without that stain, a bride might carry the stigma of impurity for the rest of her life, never able to hold her head up in her husband’s house.

Thinking of this, Zhu Ping’an felt a wave of awkwardness as he looked at the cloth. He cleared his throat sheepishly and placed it back onto the bed.

Seeing this, Li Shu’s cheeks burned crimson. She cast him a glare, her eyes shimmering like rippling water. Some women were born temptresses, and Li Shu was the pinnacle of them all. That single look nearly cost Zhu Ping’an his self-control. It was lethal; he had to take two deep breaths to suppress the sudden heat rising within him.

It was late; if they didn’t sleep now, it would be dawn.

“Let’s rest,” Zhu Ping’an said softly.

“Mm…” Li Shu replied with a sound as faint as a kitten’s mewl.

With that, Zhu Ping’an removed his groom’s robes and placed them on the rack by the bed. Underneath, he wore a set of white inner garments—a long-sleeved shirt and trousers—so as not to be too forward when getting into bed.

He climbed under the covers first. He found the wedding bed was not only massive but incredibly comfortable. The mattress was perfectly balanced, likely made of palm fiber; it was soft yet firm, a sensation several times better than any modern bed he had slept on.

A woman’s bedtime routine was slightly more troublesome, primarily due to the removal of makeup. At her dressing table, Li Shu took off the phoenix crown and the ceremonial robes, removed her jewelry piece by piece, and began the tedious process of clearing her face with various jars and bottles.

By the time she finished and approached the bed, at least twenty minutes had passed.

“Turn your head… no peeking…” Li Shu chided him with a pout as she drew near, insisting he look away.

What’s there to see anyway? Zhu Ping’an curled his lip slightly and turned his head toward the wall, indifferent to her demand. He’d just taken his own clothes off, and she’d still be wearing her inner layers, wouldn’t she? What could there possibly be to see? He wasn’t about to risk her ire for no reason, so he obediently kept his eyes averted.

Just as he turned away, he heard a rustle near his ear—the sound of buttons being undone and clothes sliding off. First, the soft snip-snip of ties and fasteners, followed by a long, silk-on-silk shhh as the fabric pooled on the floor. Amidst that rustling, Zhu Ping’an felt his own breathing grow shallow and quick.

The sounds continued for a moment and then fell silent. Zhu Ping’an maintained his posture, staring at the wall, until he heard a soft, delicate moan. Only then did he turn back.

A wedding night was never short on red candles, so the room was bathed in ample light. In a single glance, everything before the bed was seared into his vision. In an instant, his mind went blank, his breath hitched, and his eyes grew bloodshot.

Only by seeing this could one truly understand what it meant to be a “supreme temptress.” At this moment, Li Shu was the kind of woman who could make a man’s blood boil with a single look, making him wish his very eyes could leap out and be upon her.

By the bed, the red wedding robes lay discarded on the floor. A scantily clad Li Shu stood amidst the heap of silk, her curves so exquisite she looked like a serpent spirit that had just shed its skin to take human form.

The light was bright; every detail was clear.

On her upper body, she wore only a dudou (bodice), revealing rounded, satiny “pearl shoulders.” Her long, dark hair draped over her shoulders and fell across her chest, obscuring bits of snowy skin and leaving the rest as a tantalizing silhouette. Her slender arms, pale as lotus roots, were crossed shyly over her chest, but instead of hiding her, the action only served to press and accentuate her soft curves. The bodice was small, unable to hide her porcelain-pale midriff and her “water-snake” waist—so lithe it seemed a single hand could encircle it. Under the candlelight, her skin was so white it seemed to reflect the flame, dazzling the eyes.

Below, she wore only a pair of red shorts. They were asymmetrical—one leg reaching the knee, while the other was so short it resembled modern “hot pants,” making her long, ivory legs appear even more enchanting. She had removed her embroidered shoes, leaving her feet bare; her ten dainty toes were painted with bright red balsam, striking and vivid.

If it were just that, it might have been fine. Zhu Ping’an had seen plenty of girls in avant-garde, “butt-skimming” miniskirts in the modern world.

What truly made his throat go dry was that those red shorts Li Shu was wearing… were actually open-crotch trousers!

Open-crotch trousers!

Legend had it that in ancient times, the bride’s parents would include these as part of the dowry. Since marriages were often arranged and the couple might never have met before the wedding night, being suddenly naked together was considered too awkward. The “open-crotch” design allowed the bride to remain somewhat covered during the first time to ease the embarrassment. It was also said to prevent the groom from being so overexcited that he couldn’t perform. Zhu Ping’an had always dismissed this as modern hearsay. He never imagined it was true—that such a garment actually existed.

Even though Li Shu kept her long, white legs pressed tightly together, they couldn’t block Zhu Ping’an’s view. Though he looked away after just one second, everything that should and shouldn’t be seen had been witnessed.

The chaotic flowers grow just enough to blur the eyes, and the shallow grass can only hide a horse’s hoof!

On a wedding night, these trousers were basically the ancient equivalent of lingerie. How could a pure-hearted virgin like Zhu Ping’an withstand such a thing?

In that single moment, he felt like his body was on fire. His blood pressure spiked, his eyes stung as if burned by chili, and his nose felt a sudden, itchy prickle.

Then, a warm liquid began to flow from his nostrils… unstoppable. Drip, drip… it fell onto the bed, landing right on the white “Fallen-Red Cloth,” staining it a brilliant red.

“Who told you to peek?!”

Li Shu let out a sharp cry of embarrassment, her arms tightening over her chest as she squeezed her legs together. But as the words left her mouth, she saw the pathetic sight of Zhu Ping’an staring blankly at her, his nose bleeding like a leaky faucet.