The Prince Saw It

Morning sunlight streamed in through the window.

By the time An Ziran woke, it was nearly nine in the morning. The room was so bright that his newly opened eyes narrowed again. He usually got up before seven; it seemed he really had been exhausted last night.

The creak of the door opening drifted in from the outer room. When he turned his head, he saw Fu Wutian, dressed in black, striding in. His expression revealed nothing, but the relaxed way he walked showed that he was feeling refreshed. Comparing that to his own still-sore body, An Ziran felt inexplicably irritated.

"Princess, you're awake."

Fu Wutian walked over. Two maids entered behind him, each carrying washing supplies. After setting them down, they were dismissed by him.

The two maids were very self-aware; they did not even raise their heads the entire time.

An Ziran watched as Fu Wutian walked to the basin, wrung out the towel inside, and headed toward him. Before he could speak, An Ziran said first, "I'll do it myself."

With that, he sat up from the bed. Aside from the outer robe of his wedding attire, he was fully dressed underneath. There would absolutely be no convenient accidental exposure. An Ziran forcefully took the damp towel from Fu Wutian and began washing up.

Fu Wutian quietly watched his princess, whose face was filled with stubbornness.

An Ziran knew Fu Wutian was watching him. He could only try to ignore that roaming gaze and finish washing up as quickly as possible before changing into a new set of clothes.

The new clothes came from one of the trunks Ge Qian'an had brought along with the wedding garments. Everything inside had been tailored to his measurements and was better than his own clothing. Most importantly, they were soft and comfortable to wear; otherwise, he would have thrown the whole trunk into a corner. As for why Fu Wutian knew his measurements, he did not want to think about it at all.

An Ziran picked out a blue brocade robe embroidered with dark purple cloud patterns from the trunk and looked at Fu Wutian. "I need to change. Could I trouble Your Highness to step outside for a moment?"

"Princess, we are husband and wife," Fu Wutian stated calmly.

An Ziran raised an eyebrow and replied unhurriedly, "Even husbands and wives have privacy."

Fu Wutian had not expected him to retort. His princess seemed to have quite a sharp tongue. Convinced, he nodded. "What Princess says makes perfect sense. Then I shall wait outside for you."

Watching his back as he turned and walked out, An Ziran was surprised that he had been so agreeable this time.

He discovered that the more he understood Fu Wutian, the harder this man became to comprehend. Sometimes, An Ziran thought Fu Wutian would make things difficult for him, yet he would unexpectedly be easygoing. Other times, his attitude was so forceful that no one could resist him.

He suddenly regretted his original decision somewhat.

Casting aside those thoughts, which were obviously too late now, An Ziran removed his heavy wedding robe and put on the brocade outfit in his hands, which was similarly somewhat complicated in design. When he had first arrived here, the clothing had given him quite a headache. There were too many steps: buttons, ties, and layer after layer of garments, most of them unnecessarily cumbersome.

Hearing the crisp sound of the curtain beads striking together, Fu Wutian turned around.

At first glance, he saw An Ziran looking all the more fresh and clean in the blue brocade robe, but his hair ruined the overall effect.

The youth was clearly not skilled at tying his hair. He had merely gathered it into a single bundle and secured it with a hair clasp. The technique was rough, and several messy strands hung down along his cheeks. He could not go out and meet people looking like that.

Fu Wutian took his hand and led him back.

An Ziran said nothing. He had noticed earlier that Fu Wutian's gaze had lingered on his hair for a while. One look was enough to tell that he disliked how poorly An Ziran had tied it.

He had to admit that much. He did not know how to manage his own hair.

Compared to long hair, he actually preferred short hair. If cutting it short had not been too unconventional, and if he had not been unsure what consequences it might bring, he would have cut it off long ago.

Fu Wutian pressed him down before the mirror, casually removed his hair clasp and let his hair fall loose, then picked up a comb and began arranging it for him again. Though he was a thoroughly masculine man whose hands were meant to wield blades and spears, Fu Wutian was actually meticulous. More than a decade of life in the military camp had trained him to be capable of everything.

Through the yellowish bronze mirror, An Ziran could only see a pair of hands working atop his head.

Fu Wutian was too tall. Though the bronze mirror was fairly large, it was not taller than him, so An Ziran could only see himself in it.

"Done." Fu Wutian's rich voice interrupted his wandering thoughts.

An Ziran refocused on the bronze mirror and froze when he saw his reflection.

Fu Wutian had not tied all his hair up; part of it draped over his shoulders. The clasp securing the tied portion was not the one An Ziran had chosen earlier either, but a pale blue gemstone hair clasp that matched his clothes better. The gemstone at its center gleamed brightly, looking especially exquisite and making his features appear even more handsome.

"Princess looks truly beautiful!"

Fu Wutian bent down, and that handsome face finally appeared in the bronze mirror.

An Ziran snapped out of it, immediately turned his head away, and stood up. Only when he reached the hanging bead curtain did he turn back to Fu Wutian, who was still standing before the mirror. "What are you waiting for? Let's go."

Fu Wutian followed as instructed.

Princess, I already saw that flicker of discomfort on your face.