Chapter 10

Xixi knew nothing of their talk.
That afternoon she wore again the red wedding dress her mother had sewn stitch by stitch.
Lu Zhining hurried over, brows knit: “You’re not marrying on impulse to spite Ge Qingsong—”
“Of course not. He’s not that important.”
About to wed Feng, Xixi was in splendid mood. She daubed rouge at the bronze mirror, found it pale, added more: “You won’t believe me now. When you see my groom at the altar you’ll know why I want him.”
Lu Zhining hesitated.
Yesterday her father had mentioned Xixi brought home an immortal young man.
But could looks alone unhinge someone—Lu Zhining could not understand. She judged people by bone for acupuncture, skin for health—never face.
Probably the girl talked tough but was stung by the broken betrothal. Otherwise she would not rush marriage even if she liked him.
She asked no more—only Xixi’s neck: “And this wound?”
“Practice—scratch. Nothing.” Xixi dodged and kept painting. “Still not red enough… brows need drawing—”
Seeing her cousin turn from yesterday’s resistance into a painted clown face, Lu Zhining twitched her lips: “I’ll do it. Hands off—no more rouge.”
She wiped Xixi’s face and applied bright, proper makeup.
Xixi was dissatisfied: “Too plain. I want thicker—prettier.”
Since childhood the girl loved gaudy colors. Stockade poverty left only hemp and coarse cloth. Lu Zhining laughed helplessly, slapped away the rouge: “This is already beautiful.”
“But—”
“No buts.” She pulled out all the silk flowers and hairpins.
Xixi clutched her head to flee: “Don’t— I dug those from Mother’s room—”
Lu Zhining pinned her: “Want your groom to think you’re beautiful?”
Xixi: “……Yes.”
“Sit still.”
She undid Xixi’s usual braids, coiled a simple elegant bun, inserted two crimson silk begonias, studied her: “Done.”
Xixi still wanted more flash—but Feng was a scholar, frost-cold manner. She held back.
“Xiao Xixi—you’re mad! Marry a stranger???”
Pang Yuejiao arrived breathless. Red dress, full adornment—she could not believe it.
Xixi grinned wickedly: “Yes. Call me Grand-aunt. And for three months—wash my clothes and cook daily.”
Yuejiao: “……”
She would not lose. Chin up: “What if the groom runs again? And I heard you seized a husband—no proper escort. What kind of wedding is that?”
“Spit spit—bad luck. I’ll throw you out.” Xixi rolled her eyes. “No backing out. Bow to heaven and earth—that’s marriage. Cheat and I’ll shout through the stockade that you’re a sore loser. Not convinced? Go seize your own husband below the mountain—still late. Still Grand-aunt.”
Yuejiao: “……”
“Finish the wedding first—then talk!” She ran out to watch.
Lu Zhining shook her head: “You two can’t go a day without fighting.”
Xixi sniffed: “She provokes me.”
“Auspicious hour—new couple to the altar!”
Soon the neighbor who had been wedding mistress called at the door, red sash at her waist, beaming.
Xixi’s heart leaped—nervous for once. She lifted the red veil with mandarin ducks: “How’s this?”
Lu Zhining adjusted it: “Fine. Go.”
**
Lu Zhining led Xixi to the hall. They bowed with Feng.
Feng’s leg could not bear weight. Yuanfeng carried him out and steadied him through the rites.
Under the veil Xixi could not see his face—only red robes and the hand holding the red silk.
Broad, long, jade-white—one glance and her heart bloomed with flowers.
Guests were stunned by Feng’s looks. All said Xixi was blessed—not spiting Ge Qingsong. This Xie Guiyuan was handsome, literate, cold but far above Ge Qingsong.
With him—who cared if Ge fled or eloped?
Several unmarried girls thought of going down the mountain for husbands like this.
Pang Yuejiao among them—hoping for another scandal. Instead Xixi married smoothly—and to an immortal!
Sour to the bone, she left before the rites ended.
Xixi knew nothing. Listening to praise, joy overflowed. Last bow done, carried to the bridal chamber, she could not help a giggle.
Heh—from today she had a husband.
Pity—for now only the altar, not the bed.
Three months—she vowed to win Feng and keep him willing.
“Come—lift the veil!”
After the mistress’s cry the veil was casually lifted. Xixi looked up—eyes blazed.
He in wedding red was too, too beautiful!
Feng had not studied Xixi before. Under the veil—a bright, lush face that dazzled. He only paused, then looked away indifferently.
“What a matched pair of jade lovers!” The mistress poured union wine with endless lucky words.
Feng meant to go through the motions. Xixi swiftly took a cup, linked his arm, drank the crossed cup before the crowd’s cheers.
“……”
“Your turn.”
So close—smile brilliant, eyes sharp, breath hot on his hand—numbing.
Feng rarely stood so near anyone. He hated touch. Eyes chilled. He sipped at once and pulled free.
Someone called: “The groom didn’t finish his cup!”
“He’s injured—forbidden wine. One sip is enough.” Xixi smiled and drove everyone out.
Only the two remained.
Xixi sat on the bed, satisfied, staring at Feng.
Feng: “……”
Her gaze made his skin crawl. Cold face: “You can leave.”
This was a guest room Feng Yunxiang had cleaned for Feng.
“Leave where? Wedding night.” She leaned in on purpose.
Feng: “……Out.”
She loved his anger thawing the ice—but feared pushing too far. She sat properly, smiled: “Leaving now invites questions. I’ll go later, all right? I promised Mother—three months I won’t touch you—and I will keep it.”
That sounded odd…
Feng’s face grew colder.
Xixi went meeker, then: “Sitting like this is dull. Let’s chat. When the yard’s quiet I’ll go.”
Feng ignored her.
He had agreed to perform before others—not to indulge her after.
Xixi was not angry. “Fine—a story I heard once.”
Without waiting she cleared her throat: “Once a peddler’s wife bore at seven months—premature. He feared the child would not thrive. A friend comforted him: my grandfather too was born at seven months. The peddler pressed: ‘Did your grandfather grow up?’”
Feng, who had not meant to listen: “……”