Sharing the Bed

After drinking the ceremonial wine, the final and most important step of the wedding came next—the wedding night.

An Ziran had never given the matter much thought. Since he was only marrying in another's place, there was no need to complete every step expected of a husband and wife. Besides, they were both men, so he naturally assumed Fu Wutian thought the same way.

That was what he had thought before drinking the ceremonial wine.

Afterward, he was no longer so sure.

Pretending nothing was amiss, An Ziran walked over to the wedding bed and sat down. To Fu Wutian, who had set down his cup and was approaching him, he said, "I'll sleep on the bed tonight. Your Highness can make do with the floor. That shouldn't be a problem, right?"

"It is." Fu Wutian did not give him the answer he had hoped for. Bending down to meet his gaze, he said, "Princess Consort, we are husband and wife now."

"Not for long." An Ziran remained perfectly composed.

The corners of Fu Wutian's lips lifted slightly. "But until that day comes, we will remain husband and wife."

An Ziran's expression immediately darkened, and his fists clenched as though he might throw a punch at any moment.

Fu Wutian glanced at the two little fists by his side, each barely half the size of his own, and amusement flashed through his eyes. He suddenly reached out, but before he could touch him, An Ziran recoiled. Smiling, Fu Wutian said, "Princess Consort, today is this prince's joyous wedding day. I never intended to sleep on the floor."

"Then I'll sleep on the floor," An Ziran quickly replied.

"That won't do. How could this prince bear to let his princess consort sleep on the floor? Since I married you, I will take responsibility to the end." As Fu Wutian spoke, he turned and fetched the wine pot and cups. "Princess Consort, your capacity for wine seems quite good. Why don't we have a few more cups?"

An Ziran looked at him coldly. Was he trying to get him drunk?

Unfortunately, Fu Wutian had miscalculated. Though he had a different body in this life, the original An Ziran had been a devoted drinker, exactly like An Changfu. The An Family's cellar held quite a few fine wines. While he was not capable of drinking a thousand cups without getting drunk, a single pot of wine was far from enough to knock him out.

Fu Wutian poured a cup and handed it to him.

An Ziran accepted it without hesitation and drained it in one swallow, his resolve to refuse as firm as iron.

A deeply meaningful look appeared in Fu Wutian's eyes, but An Ziran, who had just emptied his cup, failed to notice. He drank three cups in succession before stopping, his expression unchanged. Fu Wutian praised him, "Princess Consort truly has an impressive capacity for wine. This prince admires you."

"The wine is finished. Can I sleep now?" An Ziran ignored the flattery. Right now, all he wanted was to get through the first night of his marriage safely and soundly.

"Of course."

To his surprise, Fu Wutian agreed readily.

An Ziran cast him a surprised glance, wondering whether he was plotting something again. Yet nothing unusual had happened throughout the entire process, and he was certain the wine had not been drugged. If it had, he would have tasted it. Unable to figure it out, he stopped thinking about it. At worst, he would deal with whatever came.

An Ziran took off his lavish wedding robes. He had wanted to sleep in them, but the robes were rather heavy, and keeping them on would likely be uncomfortable. After only a moment's hesitation, he removed the outer red robe. Just as he was about to hang it up, a pair of hands suddenly reached over and took it from him. Looking up, he saw Fu Wutian's handsome face.

"This prince will help you."

An Ziran frowned as he watched Fu Wutian hang up the robes, along with his own. After some thought, he changed the subject. "I'm used to sleeping on the outside. Your Highness, please sleep on the inside."

This was neither a request nor a question. As soon as he finished speaking, he lay down on the outer side of the bed with his back turned toward Fu Wutian.

Fu Wutian did not mind. However, when he lay down on the inner side, An Ziran turned over again to face outward, deliberately refusing to look at him. Fu Wutian found it rather amusing. He had not expected him to be such an awkward little fellow.

The dragon-and-phoenix candles had already burned nearly to their ends. Not long after the two lay down, the candlelight gradually dimmed, casting the room in shadow. The atmosphere was so quiet that it carried an indescribable strangeness.

Once everything grew quiet, An Ziran noticed that his body felt somewhat hot. By mid-April, it was no longer early spring, and the weather had begun to warm. He was still wearing quite a few layers, so he simply lifted half the blanket off himself. He assumed it was because he had just drunk several cups of wine and did not pay it much attention. But as his body grew hotter and hotter, a wicked fire seemed to surge up from his lower abdomen, burning him with unbearable heat. Only then did he realize something was wrong.

This feeling was clearly from that kind of drug.

There had to be something wrong with the wine!

An Ziran could no longer care about anything else. His fingers began to move lightly, but a large hand suddenly reached in and grasped his. A familiar yet unfamiliar shadow loomed over him. The candlelight revealed the astonishment on his face, and a deep voice came from the darkness:

"Princess Consort, it is not right to sneak a bite all by yourself."