Because the groom had difficulty walking, the wedding rites were simplified.
That suited Shen Lingzhen just fine. Dressed in ceremonial robes with wide sleeves, adorned with layered sashes and a dragon-phoenix crown, the weight of it all was nearly unbearable. Any more fuss, and she feared she would collapse.
After leaving the ceremonial pavilion and entering the bridal chamber, the crowd dispersed. Only the attendants she had brought from Bianjing remained. Her maids helped remove the crown and heavy sashes, took off the excess hairpins, and asked if she’d like some tea and pastries to settle her stomach.
Huo Liuxing had gone to the main hall to entertain guests. Though he’d said he’d return early, with the Fourth Prince and the Minister of Rites present, the banquet was unlikely to end anytime soon.
So Shen Lingzhen quietly began eating, while surveying her surroundings.
Qingyang was far less prosperous than Bianjing. Though the Huo family was considered a prominent household locally, they were a fallen military clan, not wealthy by any means. The room’s furnishings were sparse: aside from the canopy bed she sat on and a few cabinets, there was only a five-panel folding screen, a round table with a three-legged stool, and a few narrow tables with upturned ends. The emptiness felt unfamiliar to her.
Ji Momo, sensing her thoughts, said, “In a few days, I’ll have someone redecorate the room to make it feel more lived-in.”
Shen Lingzhen shook her head. “I imagine it was arranged this way to make it easier for the wheelchair to move around, avoiding bumps and snags. Don’t think only of me, Momo.”
“This old servant was careless,” Ji Momo replied, bowing her head.
Shen Lingzhen sipped her tea, though her mind was elsewhere. Whatever flavor it held, she couldn’t taste a thing. After a pause, she asked, “Ji Momo, is it true that Young Master Huo truly cannot take a single step?”
“That’s what they say.”
“Who says so?”
“When Young Master Huo was injured, His Majesty sent the famed physician Huang Qi to treat him. The physician said it was a miracle he survived at all. From the hips down, he has no strength, no sensation, not even pain or itching. His legs simply cannot support him anymore.”
Shen Lingzhen had once met Physician Huang Qi briefly in Bianjing. If he said it couldn’t be cured, then it likely couldn’t.
Still, she wasn’t ready to give up. “But it’s been ten years. Hasn’t Master Huang’s medical skill improved at all?”
“It has, in fact. If it were anyone else, their legs would’ve long since withered from disuse. But Master Huang devised a method of combining acupuncture and medicinal baths and taught it to the Huo family. Thanks to that, Young Master Huo’s legs have retained their form. Still, as they say, the worse the injury, the harder it is to recover. The longer one doesn’t use their legs, the less they can be used. Cases of full recovery after so many years are exceedingly rare.”
In other words, standing again was nearly impossible.
Shen Lingzhen nodded, disheartened. Perhaps it really was just a resemblance in voice.
Ji Momo noticed her weariness and gently suggested, “Why not lie down for a bit, Miss? Keep your robes on and rest. When the young master returns, I’ll wake you.”
Shen Lingzhen had originally planned to stay awake a little longer, but the thought of the remaining wedding rites, the ceremonial wine and the consummation, made her worry that forcing herself now might leave her drained later. So she nodded and said, “Ji Momo, please be sure to wake me in time. We mustn’t neglect the proper rituals.”
There were benefits to marrying into another family. Shen Lingzhen’s noble birth spoke for itself. Even if she slipped in etiquette, the Huo family would hardly dare to fault her. Still, Ji Momo reassured her, “Rest easy, Miss.”
The moment Shen Lingzhen’s head touched the pillow, she fell into a deep sleep.
Ji Momo sent someone to keep watch for movement in the courtyard, but being unfamiliar with the Huo residence, she hadn’t realized that Huo Liuxing wouldn’t enter through the main gate. Instead, he used a side entrance specially designed for wheelchair access, built without thresholds or steps, which caused her to miss him by a moment.
By the time Huo Liuxing reached the covered corridor, Ji Momo hurried out to greet him, apologizing and offering to go in first to wake Shen Lingzhen.
“No need for such formality,” Huo Liuxing replied with a gentle smile. “She’s traveled far and must be exhausted. I understand and feel for her.”
After Ji Momo entered the room, Huo Liuxing followed, wheeling himself in. He turned past the screen and immediately saw Shen Lingzhen lying curled on the bed.
Her whole body was tucked into a tight ball, brows furrowed, a fine sheen of sweat glistening on her forehead. She seemed trapped in a troubled dream, her pale, delicate hands clutching the corner of the quilt with pitiful desperation. She looked a bit like… the little pug he’d once rescued as a child.
Ji Momo bent down and softly called Shen Lingzhen’s name twice. She startled awake, and the moment her eyes opened, they met Huo Liuxing’s gaze.
Had Shen Lingzhen been fully conscious, she might have noticed that his eyes held a flicker of something cold and sharp—half scrutiny, half indifference. It was far from friendly.
But she was still groggy, staring at him in a daze. And that flash of hostility in his eyes vanished as quickly as it came. Look again, and it was no longer there.
Seeing Shen Lingzhen’s confusion at the visitor’s identity, Ji Momo softly reminded her, “Miss, the young master has arrived.”
Only then did Shen Lingzhen come to her senses. She scrambled up, fumbling for her silk fan.
According to custom, she should hold the fan before her face and wait for Huo Liuxing to enter, so he could perform the “lifting the fan” ritual.
But just as her fingers touched the fan’s handle, Huo Liuxing smiled and waved his hand. “All these formalities, why be so bound by them?” He wheeled himself to the foot of the bed, leaned forward slightly, and asked with gentle concern, “Were you having a nightmare just now?”
Shen Lingzhen paused.
The man before her had refined features and a graceful bearing. Dressed in ceremonial crimson, his complexion looked almost porcelain-like. He stood in stark contrast to the rugged men of the northwestern frontier.
The way he looked at her suddenly reminded her of fine mutton-fat jade—warm, smooth, understated, yet quietly radiant.
Perhaps he was too close. The scent of wine reached her nose, and Shen Lingzhen tensed. Her grip on the fan tightened as she softly replied, “I had a bad dream.”
It must have been because Huo Liuxing reminded her of the man who once saved her. As she drifted off earlier, she’d dreamt again of that perilous day.
Huo Liuxing glanced at her restless hands and said warmly, “Why not bathe and freshen up first?”
She nodded, then hesitated. “I haven’t yet shared the ceremonial wine with you.”
“You’ve just broken a sweat. Cold wine would do you harm. Let’s delay the ritual a bit.”
“Thank you for your thoughtfulness. Then I’ll trouble you to wait for me.”
“It’s no trouble. Go ahead.”
Huo Liuxing didn’t avert his gaze. He watched her closely.
Feeling self-conscious, Shen Lingzhen lifted the quilt. His eyes followed, landing on her feet—bare except for thin servant’s socks. As if scalded, she quickly tucked them back under the covers.
Huo Liuxing blinked, then chuckled and turned his wheelchair around, facing away.
Only then did Shen Lingzhen take Ji Momo’s wrist and step lightly off the bed. She stole a glance at him. Then another.
Though the back of his head had no eyes, the bronze mirror on the table ahead reflected her curious gaze perfectly into his line of sight.
His pupils contracted. He raised his thumb and thoughtfully brushed his lower lip.
After bathing, Shen Lingzhen returned in a light, smoky-pink ruqun with a high waist. Huo Liuxing had also changed. He was now dressed in loose white inner robes, seated by the window, reading a Buddhist scripture by candlelight. His other hand slowly turned a string of bodhi prayer beads.
A faint medicinal scent lingered in the room. It was bitter, but not unpleasant. Shen Lingzhen guessed he must have just finished a herbal bath.
Hearing her enter, Huo Liuxing calmly set down his scripture and instructed the attendants nearby, “You may all leave. No need to stay and serve tonight.”
There were four servants present. The word “yes” was vague.
At his command, the two who had been attending him immediately withdrew. But the two maids from the Shen household, who had followed Shen Lingzhen in, kept their heads lowered and didn’t move.
Shen Lingzhen felt a flicker of awkwardness.
Her father had ordered the servants to remain vigilant in the Huo household, wary of the rumored fierceness of the northwestern clan. Even after entering the Huo residence, they only took orders from her. But so far, her husband’s demeanor had been impeccable, nothing about him matched the word “fierce.” He had been nothing but gentle and considerate. To defy him now would make the Shen family seem domineering.
“You may go as well,” Shen Lingzhen added softly.
Only then did the two maids retreat, though they didn’t go far and remained standing just outside the inner chamber, separated by a single door.
Shen Lingzhen searched for something to say to ease the tension, but Huo Liuxing, ever perceptive, resolved it for her. “Come,” he said, beckoning with a warm smile, as if the earlier moment hadn’t bothered him at all.
She stepped forward and saw that the table before him was set with walnut wood dishes, bowls, and wine cups. Walnut, also known as “longevity fruit”, symbolized peace, health, and a harmonious union.
He picked up a wine cup and poured the ceremonial wine himself. “It’s a bitter brew,” he said. “Just a sip for the meaning.”
Shen Lingzhen had read that the wedding wine was intentionally bitter, symbolizing the couple’s shared trials and unwavering companionship through life’s storms.
“I don’t fear bitterness,” she replied, waving her hand.
Huo Liuxing raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. As they linked arms and drank, he watched her struggle to swallow, her brows knitting tightly.
Setting down his cup, he reached out and gently tapped the center of her furrowed brow with one finger, smiling as he teased, “Not afraid of bitterness?”
Startled by his sudden closeness, Shen Lingzhen looked up and froze.
His eyes were right there, warm and luminous. And so familiar.
If the similarity in voice had been a coincidence, then what about the eyes?
Back then, her savior’s helmet had revealed only a pair of eyes. She had memorized them. And now, looking at Huo Liuxing’s gentle, peach-blossom gaze, they were almost exactly the same.
Shen Lingzhen fell into doubt once more, staring at Huo Liuxing without blinking.
“What is it?” he asked.
“You look familiar. I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
“Perhaps in Bianjing. Before I turned fifteen, I accompanied my father to the palace a few times and met many children from noble families. You might’ve been among them. Though you were quite young then so I am surprised you remember.”
She had only been three at the time, and truly remembered little. But that wasn’t the period she was concerned with.
“And after that, you never returned to Bianjing?” she asked.
Huo Liuxing nodded. “I joined the army at fifteen and spent the next two years on the battlefield. After I turned seventeen…” He lowered his gaze with a faint smile. “These legs haven’t taken me far since.”
It hadn’t been her intention to touch a sore spot. Now that he’d confirmed it himself, she didn’t press further and offered a quiet apology. “Forgive me. I was being presumptuous.”
“No harm done.” His tone remained gentle, but his eyes stayed fixed on her, as if trying to read something deeper. “But from what you said, it sounds like you saw me somewhere else?”
Shen Lingzhen quickly shook her head.
Her abduction had been kept secret to protect her reputation. If Huo Liuxing wasn’t the man who saved her, then it was better not to stir up unnecessary trouble.
“Perhaps it’s just a childhood memory,” she said.
Huo Liuxing didn’t press further. He nodded and gestured toward the bed. “Sit there.”
“Are you planning to rest now?”
“It’s time for the consummation. You’re tired?”
“I… I’m quite awake…”
Huo Liuxing smiled again, but this time it wasn’t just warmth, there was a hint of playful teasing. Shen Lingzhen felt flustered.
“Why are you laughing…” she asked, half annoyed.
“Because you blush so easily. What will you do in a moment?” Then his smile faded, replaced by a slight frown. “Has anyone ever taught you how to consummate a marriage?”
“No.”
Shen Lingzhen had once seen her cousin from the second branch of the family diligently learning all sorts of things from her maid before marriage. But when it came to her own wedding preparations, her days had been surprisingly leisurely.
When she asked about it, her father had huffed, “My daughter doesn’t need to learn how to serve anyone. Just marrying into the Huo family is already a blessing their second son couldn’t earn in eight lifetimes!”
And so, Shen Lingzhen remained mostly clueless. She only vaguely understood that consummation meant a man and woman sharing a bed in intimate closeness.
Huo Liuxing looked slightly troubled.
Shen Lingzhen ventured, “You don’t know how either?”
“I’m older than you, so I know more, naturally. But given my condition, knowing alone may not be enough.”
“Then teach me. Let me learn from you first.”
Though she didn’t fully grasp the details, even knowing they were to share a bed was enough to make any young lady blush, especially since she and Huo Liuxing had only known each other for a few hours.
She was stalling, hoping to talk a little longer and grow more familiar with him before climbing into bed.
But Huo Liuxing understood well—this wasn’t something that could be taught with words alone.
He chuckled. “I’m afraid that won’t work. If you truly want to learn, you’ll have to come to bed with me.”
Author’s Note: Huo Liuxing, who “cannot walk”—let’s see if he can still make things happen.
