In the midst of her sleep, an itch tickled her throat, prompting an uncontrollable fit of coughing.
Wen Qiao, as usual, woke up coughing.
Her frail body curled under the covers, trembling with each cough. The weak, intermittent sounds echoed in the quiet of the room.
A warm hand gently rested on her back, softly patting and soothing her violently shaking frame.
As the coughing subsided, Wen Qiao blinked her dark, dense lashes, which fluttered like a butterfly’s wings. She turned her head toward the person comforting her, her expression dazed as though she hadn’t fully woken up.
“Feeling better?” a gentle voice asked.
She nodded absentmindedly, still a bit groggy.
The man in a moon-white robe had risen from bed, the collar of his robe slightly open, revealing an elegant collarbone and a hint of his chest. His long, dark hair flowed smoothly over his shoulders, a few strands disappearing into his robe, accentuating his jade-like complexion.
His handsome face bore a warm smile, as gentle as the morning breeze, brushing softly against her heart.
“Good morning, Ah-Qiao,” Ning Yuzhou greeted softly.
Wen Qiao nodded in return, suddenly recalling that she was now married to the Seventh Prince of Dongling. This was no longer her courtyard at the Wen family estate.
Ning Yuzhou helped her sit up, his movements tender and cautious, reflecting the same understated gentleness that defined him.
Wen Qiao stared at him for a moment, her hands retracting into her oversized sleeves. Quietly, she asked, “Can you let Lian Yue come in?”
Smiling, Ning Yuzhou agreed, stepping behind the screen to change clothes before leaving to summon the servants.
A short while later, Lian Yue entered with several maids to assist Wen Qiao in washing and dressing.
Once she was dressed, Wen Qiao followed the maids to the dining hall, where Ning Yuzhou was already seated.
The table was laden with an array of spiritual delicacies, each made with ingredients rich in spiritual energy. The food was not only highly nourishing but also exquisitely delicious—far superior to anything mundane ingredients could produce.
Ning Yuzhou gestured for her to sit, placing a bowl of purple spiritual rice porridge in front of her, along with a pumpkin-shaped bun on a small plate.
“Eat and see if it suits your taste,” he said gently, his tone brimming with warmth.
Of course, it did.
The spread of spiritual delicacies was so lavish that even the Wen family patriarch couldn’t afford such extravagance. It was evident how generously the Ning family provided for the Seventh Prince, likely due to Emperor Chenghao’s favouritism.
Wen Qiao ate only until she was about half full before putting down her chopsticks.
“Is it not to your liking?” Ning Yuzhou asked.
“No, it’s delicious. My appetite is just small,” Wen Qiao explained, inwardly appreciating his thoughtfulness while feeling that he seemed eager to feed her until she was round and plump.
As if reading her thoughts, Ning Yuzhou’s face showed a trace of regret. With a tinge of concern, he said, “You eat too little. These spiritual foods are mild in nature and beneficial to your health. Try to eat more next time.”
Wen Qiao thanked him and promised to make an effort.
Amused by her earnestness, Ning Yuzhou chuckled softly. He reached out to gently pat her thin back, his gesture filled with tenderness.
—
After breakfast, they prepared to visit the Dongling Emperor Chenghao and the Ning clan elders at the palace.
Although the Seventh Prince’s residence was only a short distance from the palace, a beast-drawn carriage was prepared. Ning Yuzhou carefully helped Wen Qiao into the carriage, and they rode to the palace, alighting in front of the Zi Huan Hall.
Inside the hall, Emperor Chenghao and about twenty members of the Ning clan, all direct descendants, were gathered.
Wen Qiao quickly observed that Ning Huayuan, the elder who had come to the Wen family to discuss the wedding, was absent. She surmised that the attendees were primarily members of Chenghao’s generation and Ning Yuzhou’s peers. While the emperor clearly valued this marriage, Ning Yuzhou’s inability to cultivate limited how much the Ning family would prioritize the event. The turnout today was largely a show of respect for Emperor Chenghao.
Ning Yuzhou led Wen Qiao forward to greet the emperor.
Emperor Chenghao was a stern and imposing figure, his cultivation level unfathomable. He bore little resemblance to Ning Yuzhou; rather, his appearance was echoed more in the Fifth Prince, Ning Pingzhou, who stood to the side.
With an expression of satisfaction, Emperor Chenghao presented Wen Qiao with a ceremonial gift. “Live in harmony from now on, and you’ll make me happy,” he said.
“Thank you, Father. We will,” Ning Yuzhou replied with a warm smile.
Wen Qiao also expressed her gratitude.
They then proceeded to greet the rest of the Ning clan members, starting with Chenghao’s generation and then moving on to Ning Yuzhou’s contemporaries.
The Ning clan members were cordial, their politeness masking a certain detachment. While they didn’t slight Wen Qiao, their attitude made it clear she wasn’t of much importance to them.
A lively young girl in a lake-green dress stepped forward, her bright eyes sparkling. “Seventh Sister-in-law, I’m Ning Yaozhu, the ninth in the family. You can call me Ah-Jiu. Seventh Sister-in-law, you’re so beautiful! I feel like we’re kindred spirits. Can I visit you at the Seventh Prince’s residence sometime?”
Wen Qiao blinked and looked toward Ning Yuzhou.
Smiling, Ning Yuzhou replied, “It’s better not to. Ah-Jiu, your constitution is different from hers.”
Different how?
The younger Ning clan members couldn’t hold back their chuckles, while the older ones maintained stoic expressions.
Ning Yuzhou’s bluntness left Ning Yaozhu’s face stiff with embarrassment. Before she could retort, Ning Yuzhou had already moved on, guiding Wen Qiao to meet the next clan member, leaving Ning Yaozhu fuming and pouting behind them.
—
After the formalities, Ning Yuzhou escorted Wen Qiao back to the Seventh Prince’s residence, and the Ning clan members dispersed.
—
Back at the residence, Wen Qiao dismissed the attendants and sat by the window with her flowerpot, inspecting the sprouting Rejuvenation Blossom.
Ning Yuzhou had been called away by the steward, leaving her in peace. Seeing no pressing matters, Wen Qiao resumed her cultivation, replenishing her spiritual energy and nurturing the tiny sprout.
Under the steady infusion of spiritual energy, the sprout grew slowly, reaching about an inch in height with two tender, delicate leaves. Its fragile appearance reminded her of the little seedling she had nurtured in her palm. Smiling softly, she thought, It seems I’ll be busy taking care of you for a while.
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