May Thirteen, Second Quarter of the Chen Hour.
The window paper had only just taken on a duck-egg blue when two magpies began making a racket in the jujube tree.
At first, they tested each other with alternating calls, then began clamoring over one another, chattering away.
Inside the bridal chamber, Wei Nisheng woke.
Last night, the red candles had burned for half the night, the wine from the Shared-Cup Ceremony had lingered in his veins, and then there was...
In short, he had slept much more deeply than usual.
Now his mind woke before his body, his head still a little muddled.
He kept his eyes closed and lay still, first sketching a scene in his mind.
After all, the storybooks always said that the morning after the wedding night would surely look like this.
The bride curled like a cat in her husband's arms, her cloud of hair disheveled, her breath fragrant as orchids; morning light slipped through the gauze curtains to caress her jade-like face, and the groom lowered his gaze to her, finding ten thousand years in a single glance.
Ten thousand years in a single glance.
When he had read those words back then, he had thought them wonderful, beautiful, truly a blissful moment that could only exist in books.
Now he was newly married.
At last, it was his turn.
And so, brimming with anticipation, Wei Nisheng opened his eyes, lowered his head, and looked into his arms...
Empty.
There was nothing in his arms.
He froze.
Then he followed the length of the bed with his gaze toward the right.
Fu Niang was on the far right of the bed, not curled in his arms with orchid-scented breath, nor with morning light caressing her jade-like face.
She lay facedown atop the brocade