Chapter Text
It is a truth universally acknowledged that an ah ge in possession of a stake in the throne must be in want of a fujin. Or, at least a ce fujin.
Fang Ci, the eldest daughter of the Viceroy of Min-Zhe, had been granted the honour of becoming Wu Ah Ge’s ce fujin. Her father, Fang Zhi Hang, had once been a fiery young man with dangerous ideals, but those days were long gone. For the sake of his family’s future, he had set aside his rebellious beliefs, burned all his poetry, and had worked his way up to the high position of viceroy. Fang Ci's parents continuously reminded her what a prestigious and enviable match this was with the prince, one that many would dream of.
Fang Ci was headstrong and bold, well-versed in the literary arts and other pastimes of a lady, though she never cared much for any of them. She much preferred the thrill of horseback riding and swordplay, but these interests weren’t considered proper for someone of her status. Her mother reminded her constantly that as Wu Ah Ge’s future wife, she had to let go of her impulsive ways, learn to hold her tongue, and carry herself with the grace and composure expected of someone in her position. She could certainly play this part with ease, but it wasn't truly her.
As the carriage rolled out of Hangzhou, carrying her toward the imperial capital and an unknown future, Fang Ci sat in silence. She had never seen Wu Ah Ge before and knew nothing about him. All she could do was hope, more than anything, that he was at least a decent man.
The imperial edict arrived as an inevitability. Yong Qi had scarcely given it much thought. It neither surprised nor particularly interested him who had been chosen as his ce fujin. If she had ever crossed his mind before the wedding, it was only in passing, an abstract notion tinged with a sense of sympathy. A girl torn from the familiarity of home, sent across great distances to wed a man she had never met; such was the fate of noble daughters. He wondered if she was afraid; she must be. Yet there was little he could do to change both of their destinies. At the very least, he thought, he would be kind to her.
The wedding itself was as grand as expected, a meticulously choreographed display of wealth, royalty and tradition. Then came the moment; Yong Qi reached out, his hand steady as he lifted away the embroidered red fabric cascading over his bride's shoulders.
He had expected to find a demure gaze, lowered in submission, and quiet restrained beauty, the kind that he saw in other noble daughters and adorned court paintings. Instead, large, round eyes met his with startling directness. Her face was a kind of mystical beauty he had never seen before, as if she was something like a revelation.
After the wine had been drunk, the ceremonies concluded and having seen off the last of the wedding guests, Yong Qi returned to the bridal chamber where he found his bride already in her nightclothes of soft red silk and seated on the edge of the bed.
She sat stiffly, uncharacteristically tense, her fingers twisting in her lap. She had always been fearless, sharp-tongued in a conversation, unyielding in a sword-fight, in her element on the back of a galloping horse, quick-witted in any situation. Yet here, in the bridal chamber flickering in candlelight and adorned with red flowers, stripped bare and wrapped in nothing but whispers of translucent silk in front of an unfamiliar man who would be taking her virtue tonight, she felt wildly out of depth. This was uncharted territory, a place where neither instinct nor education had prepared her for. Her mother’s guidance had been vague at best, leaving her feeling scared and vulnerable with no sense of control.
Yong Qi approached the bed with measured steps.
Straightening her posture and gathering her courage, she spoke softly. "Wu Ah Ge," she greeted, her head dipping in a modest nod, rising as if to curtsy.
He lifted a hand, stopping her with a half-smile. "Please, there is no need for such formalities now that we are husband and wife."
A silence settled between them, tinged with unspoken expectations. He cleared his throat, searching for a way to ease the awkwardness.
"How was the journey here? Hangzhou is much warmer in the winter than Beijing. I hope you’re adjusting well."
"It was fine, thank you," she answered briskly. "It is colder than I am used to, but this is my first time seeing proper snow."
Yong Qi nodded as the conversation came to a standstill. Instinctively, he almost beckoned her forward to undress him before he reconsidered. She was most definitely inexperienced in such matters while likely hesitant to take that kind of initiative. So instead, he moved to the far end of the chamber to disrobe himself.
As he loosened his belt and began unfastening the rest of his outer clothes, Xiao Yan Zi stole a few fleeting glances in his direction. Her eyes widened ever so slightly before she quickly lowered them again, as if unsure whether she was meant to look at all.
Once he had shed his outer layers, he returned to the bed, sitting beside her. She kept her gaze averted, her fingers fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. Reaching out, he tilted her chin up slowly, coaxing her to meet his eyes. They were large and filled with uncertainty as she looked at him. He offered what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
"You don’t need to be afraid," he murmured. "I will be gentle."
She said nothing but simply looked back at him with wide eyes and an unreadable expression.
His fingers slid from her chin to the top of her blouse, undoing the first fastening, then the second. By the third, he noticed the rapid rise and fall of her chest beneath the embroidered fabric of her dudou and her eyes downcast, flickering anxiously.
He hesitated. Her beauty was captivating, and the thought of her lithe body and soft skin beneath the silk was more than enough to tempt him into moving forward tonight. He desired her, but not like this, not when she looked as though she were bracing for something inevitable rather than something she was willing to participate in, not when there was something like fear lingering in her gaze.
"If you’re uncomfortable, we don’t have to do this tonight," he said gently.
Her eyes shot up to meet his, surprised by his words. “I…it would be my honour to serve Wu Ah Ge," she said almost mechanically, her mother’s voice echoing in her mind.
Yong Qi chuckled softly, shaking his head. "You needn't to be so formal, nor flatter me," he said, his tone light. "I imagine it must feel strange meeting your husband and being expected to share a bed with him on the same day." He sighed. "I don’t even know what I should call you. Your name is Fang Ci, but what do your parents call you?"
She hesitated before answering, "It’s a silly name. They call me Xiao Yan Zi."
"Xiao Yan Zi," he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. His smiled a little. "I like it. Xiao Yan Zi."
He leaned back slightly. "If you’d rather just rest tonight, we can do that. It has been a long day and an even longer journey for you. You must be tired." He paused. "I know this marriage was not your choice nor was it mine. But I want you to know that I will do right by you. We can make the best of an unwelcome circumstance."
She glanced at him as if trying to figure out whether he was being serious or if this was a test. "You do not mind?" she asked, her tone a little incredulous.
Yong Qi merely shrugged. "I can wait," he said simply. She felt heat rise to her cheeks at his words.
"But what about..." she trailed off as her eyes moved to the pristine white silk laid out on the bed.
He followed her gaze. "We can think of how to handle that in the morning."
Yong Qi offered her another polite smile before he reached over to button up the fastenings that he had just loosened on her blouse to protect her modesty. She blushed slightly as he finished, clutching her chest. Then, pulling off his boots, he shifted further into the bed and slipped under the covers, before pulling out an extra blanket over for Xiao Yan Zi. With a nod, he gestured for her to join him.
Xiao Yan Zi hesitated, then slowly laid down, keeping a careful distance between them while watching him with wide eyes.
"Relax," he said dryly, turning to face her. "I don’t bite."
She let out a small, nervous laugh.
"Since we’ll be spending the rest of our lives together," he continued, "we should at least try to know each other. So tell me, what do you like to do?"
She blinked at him as if he’d just asked her the meaning of life.
"I like...reading. Particularly Four Books for Women."
He smirked a little. "You’ve already passed the test, you don’t need to recite any more textbook answers. I meant, what do you like?"
She hesitated before allowing herself to relax just a little. "Well, I like horse-riding," she admitted, a touch of her usual confidence creeping into her voice. "And swordplay. My father taught me."
Yong Qi raised an eyebrow, intrigued.
"And you?" she asked.
He looked at her in surprise, as if nobody had ever asked him this question before. He thought about it before answering, "I suppose beside the usual martial and literary arts, I enjoy astronomy. I like finding more about the stars, about what is out there in the universe."
They spoke for a little while longer, about the differences between Beijing and Hangzhou, about their respective siblings, about the type of horses they had, until eventually, drowsiness overtook them. As Xiao Yan Zi drifted into sleep, her husband lying a respectful distance away, she reflected on how strange and unexpected this night had been. Yet it wasn’t as terrible as she had feared. For a prince, he seemed rather unassuming.
She was not foolish enough to think that there would be love waiting for her within this arranged marriage. At the very least, Wu Ah Ge seemed to be a decent man. And for now, and perhaps for this lifetime, that was enough.
The next day was a blur of formal greetings, ceremonial meals, and the process of settling into Jing Yang Gong.
Xiao Yan Zi paid her respects to Lao Fo Ye at Ci Ning Gong, who had personally overseen the selection of the ce fujin for Wu Ah Ge and seemed pleased with her choice and Xiao Yan Zi's measured responses to her questions. Next, she visited Huang Hou Niang Niang at Kun Ning Gong, who appeared cold and somewhat irritated when she could not find any faults to Xiao Yan Zi's demeanour and dismissed her after a short while with little fanfare. Lastly, Xiao Yan Zi called on Ling Fei Niang Niang at Yan Xi Gong, who welcomed her with a genuinely warm smile and let her know to find her if she needed anything which Xiao Yan Zi was grateful for.
By the time night fell, she was exhausted.
She was already in bed when Yong Qi entered, his movements unhurried as he removed his outer robes and settled in beside her, wrapping himself in a separate blanket. He made no move to close the distance between them.
Xiao Yan Zi hesitated before blurting out, "You don’t mind that we’re not…?"
Yong Qi turned his head to look at her, his expression unreadable. "Do you want to?" he asked, his voice mild.
She lowered her gaze.
"I’d rather wait until you’re willing," he said simply. "Until we know each other better and you are more comfortable with me."
A breath she hadn’t realised she was holding escaped her lips.
"Good night," he said.
For a while, she lay there, staring at the ceiling, listening to the quiet rhythm of his breathing beside her. This was not what she had expected from marriage, not that she had known what to expect in the first place.
A week later, Yong Qi returned to Jing Yang Gong after morning court and found Xiao Yan Zi in the reception hall, her expression filled with concern as she crouched down and gently applied a cloth to her dowry maid, Cai Xia's, face. Cai Xia was sniffling and her eyes were swollen.
“Is everything alright?” Yong Qi asked.
Xiao Yan Zi turned toward him with a frustrated sigh. “We were in the imperial gardens when we encountered Huang Hou Niang Niang. She started berating Cai Xia for not offering the proper greeting and then ordered her servant to strike Cai Xia.” She pointed to Cai Xia’s cheek, now flushed with redness.
Yong Qi exhaled deeply, a wary expression crossing his face. “Huang Hou does not like me. I’m sorry that you and your maid got caught up in it.”
Xiao Yan Zi tilted her head, curiosity in her eyes. “Why does Huang Hou Niang Niang dislike you?”
He gave a grim smile. “Since ancient times, palace conflicts have only one cause."
Yong Qi’s gaze flickered to the way she was kneeling beside her maid, tending to her with careful hands. He wondered whether she was perhaps still not used to giving orders here. “You know you can ask any of my- our servants to take care of your maid, don’t you?”
She turned to him with eyes that looked like were challenging him. “Cai Xia is like a sister to me, we grew up together.”
“Of course,” he answered, slightly taken aback by her tone. “I suppose, growing up in the palace, I never thought about it that way.”
She made a small sound as if to say, of course you wouldn’t.
As Yong Qi walked away, an inexplicable feeling settled over him. His new wife was unexpected in a way he could not quite put into words.
When Yong Qi stepped into the courtyard of Jing Yang Gong a few days later, the sight before him made him stop in his tracks.
Xiao Yan Zi was moving and twirling around in a flurry, the sword in her hand slicing through the air in fluid, precise arcs. The deep purple of her fitted robes hugged her slender waist, accentuating the curve of her body, while a playful ribbon atop her head fluttered with each turn. Her large, expressive eyes burned with fierce determination as she spun, immersed in the rhythm of her movements.
Her robes were rather common, she wore little makeup and there was no practiced elegance in her style, but he had never seen a girl like this, so wildly alive, so unapologetically free, so effortlessly beautiful.
Xiao Yan Zi stopped abruptly when she noticed him, pulling her sword back. "Sorry, I- " she began, unsure what she was apologising for.
"No, that's quite alright, don’t stop on my account," he replied, grinning. Rolling up his sleeves, he motioned to Xiao Shun Zi. "Bring me my sword."
Xiao Shun Zi hurried away and returned moments later, presenting the sword with both hands as Yong Qi took it without breaking eye contact with her.
"Why don’t you show me what you’ve got?" Yong Qi challenged, his tone playful.
Xiao Yan Zi hesitated, her expression a mix of surprise and caution. When he urged her with a slight nod, a glimmer flashed across her eyes. Without another word, she lunged forward, her sword aimed at him. Their blades met with a sharp, ringing clash. She was fast, her movements fierce and relentless, but Yong Qi matched her each strike easily while allowing her to lead, his every counter measured and controlled with grace.
Xiao Yan Zi huffed, clearly aware that he was somewhat humouring her. Frustration flickered across her face as she adjusted her grip and came at him again, this time with more force. In a swift motion, Yong Qi stepped forward as he dodged her blade, catching her off guard. His hand darted to her wrist, twisting just enough to force her fingers to release the sword as it clattered to the ground between them. The motion made her lose balance and before she could react, his other hand found the small of her back, pulling her against him. Xiao Yan Zi gasped as she tumbled backward before finding herself securely caught in his arms.
Her wide eyes were looking up at him, startled. He could feel her rapid heartbeat against his own and the warm sensation of her sweat-soaked back. Her scent was an intoxicating blend of musky florals and the sweet, sultry essence of her skin. Yong Qi held her there just a moment longer than necessary, his grip firm yet careful, his gaze lingering on her lips that were slightly parted in surprise.
Then, he released her. Xiao Yan Zi stumbled slightly as she regained her footing. Still breathless, she avoided his gaze, her face flushed pink as she brushed her hands over her robes in an attempt to collect herself.
"You're good," he remarked smoothly, sliding his sword back into its sheath, smiling at her. "I’ll let you get cleaned up. See you at dinner?"
Xiao Yan Zi nodded, her cheeks still rosy as she caught her breath.
As he walked away, Yong Qi flexed the hand that had held her waist, still warm from the heat of her body. He had wanted to test her control. Instead, she had tested his.
That night, the storm raged outside, far more violent than anything Xiao Yan Zi had ever known in Hangzhou. She lay curled in a ball beneath the heavy silk covers, staring into the darkness. The bed was unfamiliar, the vast expanse of the palace felt distant and cold, and she was incredibly lonely. She missed home and her family. Everything here was formal and rigid, dictated by unspoken rules that she struggled to understand.
Another deafening clap of thunder split the sky and before she could stop herself, she let out a quiet gasp.
Beside her, Yong Qi stirred and he turned toward her in the dark. "Are you alright?" he asked, his voice thick with sleep.
"I'm fine," she mumbled. "The thunder startled me. And…I was thinking of home."
A beat of silence passed before she felt movement beside her. She froze as she sensed him lifting the edge of her blanket and slipping beneath it, edging towards her. Slowly and deliberately, he reached for her, drawing her close to him, his arms wrapping around her in an embrace. Xiao Yan Zi tensed up, her breath hitching as she felt him against her, wondering if he was finally initiating what she supposed was rightfully his and what he should've taken weeks ago. But after a few moments, his touch was still gentle and not demanding.
"It's okay," he murmured reassuringly as he stroked her long hair. His chest was firm beneath her cheek, rising and falling steadily. He smelled of a masculine scent akin to sandalwood and of something crisp like the cold night air.
Xiao Yan Zi remained stiff and cautious as he held her, unfamiliar with the feeling of being in a man's arms like this, but as he made no further demands of her, gradually, she allowed herself to relax. The tension in her shoulders melted away, her breath evened out, and, with the storm still raging outside, she finally surrendered to sleep.
Morning arrived gently, the remnants of the storm swept away, leaving behind air fresh with the scent of rain. Soft light filtered through the windows as Yong Qi woke before getting out of bed and preparing to dress. Ordinarily, he would either dress himself or allow the servants to assist him. Before he could do either, Xiao Yan Zi stepped forward.
Wordlessly, she picked up his robes and held them out to him. He paused slightly, his gaze flickering over her with mild surprise before he slipped his arms through the sleeves. Xiao Yan Zi then reached up and fastened each clasp carefully, her fingertips skimming over the firm planes of his chest. She could feel him watching her, feel the slight curve of his mouth turning upward. Her cheeks burned and she kept her gaze lowered, shy but determined as she secured the final fastening.
Yong Qi chuckled softly. "Thank you."
Still avoiding his gaze, she gave a small nod. But as she stepped back, the faintest smile touched her lips.
