On the Fifth Day of the Fifth Month, pomegranate blossoms blazed scarlet.
When Fu Niang opened her eyes, the wedding gown beside her pillow lay bathed in morning light, its vermilion brocade lustrous as a pool of melted rouge.
She did not rise at once, but lay quietly, listening to the birds twitter beyond the veranda and the cicadas sing their morning song.
Those ordinarily unremarkable sounds reached her ears today as though filtered through a thin layer of honey.
Just a few more days...
The thought rose unbidden. Fu Niang pressed her lips together, then burrowed back beneath the covers, overcome with shyness.
"Are you awake, miss?"
Qingluo's voice came from outside the door.
Fu Niang hurriedly composed herself before answering, "Come in."
The door opened, and Qingluo entered carrying a basin of warm water.
She set the bronze basin on its stand, then glanced back at Fu Niang. Her eyes curved at once, and she said with a beaming smile,
"You look so radiant today, miss. It's as though flowers bloomed at the corners of your eyes overnight."
Fu Niang was just sitting up beneath the covers. At that, she made to scold her, but the words betrayed her by softening on her lips. All she said was, "Such a chatterbox."
As Qingluo spoke, she dipped a cloth into the warm water, wrung it half dry, and held it out to her.
"If I'm chattering, it's because I'm happy for you, miss."
"Hmph."
Qingluo took even greater care than usual over her mistress's hair and makeup.
She dipped the Silver Comb in Osmanthus Hair Oil, then drew its teeth over Fu Niang's scalp, stroke after stroke, sending soft, delicious tingles through her.
Fu Niang's eyes were half closed, her hazy reflection appearing in the bronze mirror.