The weather today turned gloomy in the late afternoon.
The air was filled with thick moisture, and occasional bursts of muffled thunder could be heard from the densely clouded sky.
As the carriage carrying Song Zhao arrived outside the gates of Chaoyang Palace, she looked up at the pitch-black sky.
After enduring the sweltering heat for so many days, it was about time for a good rain.
Zhang Jiugui respectfully guided Song Zhao into Chaoyang Palace and led her to a side hall, where a familiar-looking maid was waiting.
Zhang Jiugui introduced her to Song Zhao, saying, "This is the etiquette maid of the imperial court, responsible for teaching the rules of serving the emperor to the young princess."
As a eunuch, he couldn't hear what the women behind them were saying, so he stepped outside and waited.
The maid said to Song Zhao, "There are many rules to follow when serving the emperor, but they can be summed up in two things: obedience and accommodation.
Our emperor is young. He ascended the throne at the age of twenty-one and has been reigning for three years. In September, after the Longevity Festival, he will turn twenty-four, which is the prime of his life.
When serving the emperor, the most important thing is to never oppose his wishes or dampen his spirits. In short, everything should be done according to his desires, pleasing his royal countenance. This way, the emperor can forget the toils of his diligent governance during the day, and it will be the credit of the young princess.
Before serving, the palace maids will accompany the young princess to bathe and change clothes, and then escort her to the emperor's sleeping chamber. After the service, someone will come to escort the young princess back to the palace. Of course, if the emperor is pleased and grants permission to stay overnight, it would be even better."
After listening, Song Zhao nodded earnestly and said, "Thank you for your guidance. I have noted everything."
Then the maid arranged for the palace maids to take Song Zhao for a bath.
After the intimate service, there would always be someone to redo the makeup for the concubines.
However, Zhang Jiugui privately reminded the maid, "Song Zhao's red rash is a symptom of an unresolved illness. If we were to cover it with makeup now, it might worsen under the stimulation. It's better to let her go before the emperor with a natural face."
The maid smiled and said, "What Consort Chen Ning said is absolutely right. I understand what to do."
So that night, after Song Zhao finished bathing and changing clothes, no one came to apply makeup for her. Instead, she was directly sent to Xiao Jingheng's sleeping chamber.
When she arrived, Xiao Jingheng was sitting on a warm seat, reviewing official documents.
Hearing the sound of Song Zhao entering, he didn't look up but continued to elegantly leave his comments on the documents with a brush.
Inside the hall, the candlelight flickered, casting a warm and cozy glow.
The agarwood in the incense burner emitted a dense and white smoke, rising and lingering in front of Xiao Jingheng.
This was the first time Song Zhao saw her husband.
Just as the rumors had described, Xiao Jingheng was extraordinarily handsome, truly a rare sight.
His thick and neatly arranged eyebrows and obsidian-like pupils gave him a deep and resolute gaze.
His noble nose and thin lips added a touch of unattainable aloofness.
Or perhaps, this sense of alienation comes from his inherent regal aura.
Song Zhao slowly knelt down, spreading her skirt out, and respectfully greeted, "I, your concubine, have come to pay respects to Your Majesty. May Your Majesty live long and prosper."
Upon hearing her words, Xiao Jingheng's pen paused.
He glanced at Song Zhao and said, "Raise your head when speaking."
A deep and ear-grabbing voice echoed in Song Zhao's ears.
She raised her head in response. During the period of court etiquette, concubines were not allowed to look directly at the emperor's face. So, even though she lifted her head, she kept her eyes lowered, evading his gaze.
Xiao Jingheng noticed her nervousness and unease, as well as the dense rash on her face.
Long before she entered the bedchamber, Xiao Jingheng had already heard about this Song Zhao from the Empress.
The Empress said she was extraordinarily beautiful and charming, but due to an allergy to peach tree pollen, she had developed some red rashes on her face.
Today, upon seeing her, the Empress's words proved true.
Although Song Zhao's facial rash looked alarming, it was still evident that her features were exceptionally superior.
Xiao Jingheng's gaze did not linger on her for long.
After a brief glance, he quickly refocused his attention on the memorial.
However, he did not ignore Song Zhao. He said, "Come forward and attend to the writing materials."
"Yes, I will follow Your orders," Song Zhao replied.
Stepping lightly, Song Zhao walked to Xiao Jingheng's side.
She rolled up her sleeves slightly, revealing a section of fair and delicate wrist, and then took a cinnabar inkstone to start grinding ink.
"Boom!"
Outside the window, the sound of thunder grew denser.
Unintentionally, Song Zhao's hand trembled, causing the ink droplet to spill outside the inkstone.
She hurriedly took the handkerchief from her waist and wiped away the ink droplet.
Xiao Jingheng glanced sideways and asked in a cold tone, "Are you afraid?"
"N-No, I'm not afraid," Song Zhao's voice stuttered and trembled, clearly telling a falsehood.
Xiao Jingheng could tell that she was putting on a brave front, but he didn't press further and continued to calmly review the memorial.
Before long, the sound of raindrops tapping against the window grew louder.
The rain grew heavier, and the wind blew stronger, until it pushed open the latticed window beside the warm seat, letting in dampness and gusts of wind that blew a memorial off the table.
Song Zhao quickly ran to the window, forcefully closed the latticed window, and latched it.
Then she turned around and picked up the fallen memorial, presenting it to Xiao Jingheng with both hands.
Throughout the entire process, Xiao Jingheng didn't even spare her a glance.
As the rain continued to patter against the eaves, he casually recited a poem.
"With a single night's gentle thunder, countless threads fall,
Clear light shimmers on azure roof tiles."
He hadn't expected that a soft and delicate female voice would respond to him,
"Affectionate peonies hold tears of spring,
Incapable roses rest on morning branches."
A glimmer flashed in Xiao Jingheng's eyes, and he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows as he reassessed Song Zhao.
"This is Qin Guan's hidden poem, not well-known and rarely heard of, yet you know it?"
Song Zhao's beautiful eyes shimmered, her cheeks blushed, and she tenderly replied, "My father enjoys reading poetry and books. I have been exposed to them, so I have a superficial understanding. I hope I haven't embarrassed Your Majesty by showing off in front of you."
This time, the distance between the two of them was less than three feet, allowing Xiao Jingheng to see her more clearly.
There was a natural charm in every frown and wrinkle.
When she went to close the window in the rain, her cheeks and temples were wet with raindrops.
Xiao Jingheng reached out to brush away the water droplets on her cheek, but Song Zhao instinctively took a step back, trying to evade.
But it was too late.
At the moment when Xiao Jingheng's fingers touched Song Zhao's cheek, the water droplet was wiped away, along with the red rash in that spot, which faded away.
Xiao Jingheng toyed with the paint-stained water on his fingertips,
Seeing this, Song Zhao was greatly alarmed and quickly kneeled down,
"Your Majesty, please forgive me..."
Xiao Jingheng's sharp gaze met Song Zhao's panicked eyes,
He flicked away the water stain on his fingertip and his deep voice carried a strong sense of oppression,
"By doing this, do you not desire to serve in bed?"
The weather today turned gloomy in the late afternoon.
The air was filled with thick moisture, and occasional bursts of muffled thunder could be heard from the densely clouded sky.
As the carriage carrying Song Zhao arrived outside the gates of Chaoyang Palace, she looked up at the pitch-black sky.
After enduring the sweltering heat for so many days, it was about time for a good rain.
Zhang Jiugui respectfully guided Song Zhao into Chaoyang Palace and led her to a side hall, where a familiar-looking maid was waiting.
Zhang Jiugui introduced her to Song Zhao, saying, "This is the etiquette maid of the imperial court, responsible for teaching the rules of serving the emperor to the young princess."
As a eunuch, he couldn't hear what the women behind them were saying, so he stepped outside and waited.
The maid said to Song Zhao, "There are many rules to follow when serving the emperor, but they can be summed up in two things: obedience and accommodation.
Our emperor is young. He ascended the throne at the age of twenty-one and has been reigning for three years. In September, after the Longevity Festival, he will turn twenty-four, which is the prime of his life.
When serving the emperor, the most important thing is to never oppose his wishes or dampen his spirits. In short, everything should be done according to his desires, pleasing his royal countenance. This way, the emperor can forget the toils of his diligent governance during the day, and it will be the credit of the young princess.
Before serving, the palace maids will accompany the young princess to bathe and change clothes, and then escort her to the emperor's sleeping chamber. After the service, someone will come to escort the young princess back to the palace. Of course, if the emperor is pleased and grants permission to stay overnight, it would be even better."
After listening, Song Zhao nodded earnestly and said, "Thank you for your guidance. I have noted everything."
Then the maid arranged for the palace maids to take Song Zhao for a bath.
After the intimate service, there would always be someone to redo the makeup for the concubines.
However, Zhang Jiugui privately reminded the maid, "Song Zhao's red rash is a symptom of an unresolved illness. If we were to cover it with makeup now, it might worsen under the stimulation. It's better to let her go before the emperor with a natural face."
The maid smiled and said, "What Consort Chen Ning said is absolutely right. I understand what to do."
So that night, after Song Zhao finished bathing and changing clothes, no one came to apply makeup for her. Instead, she was directly sent to Xiao Jingheng's sleeping chamber.
When she arrived, Xiao Jingheng was sitting on a warm seat, reviewing official documents.
Hearing the sound of Song Zhao entering, he didn't look up but continued to elegantly leave his comments on the documents with a brush.
Inside the hall, the candlelight flickered, casting a warm and cozy glow.
The agarwood in the incense burner emitted a dense and white smoke, rising and lingering in front of Xiao Jingheng.
This was the first time Song Zhao saw her husband.
Just as the rumors had described, Xiao Jingheng was extraordinarily handsome, truly a rare sight.
His thick and neatly arranged eyebrows and obsidian-like pupils gave him a deep and resolute gaze.
His noble nose and thin lips added a touch of unattainable aloofness.
Or perhaps, this sense of alienation comes from his inherent regal aura.
Song Zhao slowly knelt down, spreading her skirt out, and respectfully greeted, "I, your concubine, have come to pay respects to Your Majesty. May Your Majesty live long and prosper."
Upon hearing her words, Xiao Jingheng's pen paused.
He glanced at Song Zhao and said, "Raise your head when speaking."
A deep and ear-grabbing voice echoed in Song Zhao's ears.
She raised her head in response. During the period of court etiquette, concubines were not allowed to look directly at the emperor's face. So, even though she lifted her head, she kept her eyes lowered, evading his gaze.
Xiao Jingheng noticed her nervousness and unease, as well as the dense rash on her face.
Long before she entered the bedchamber, Xiao Jingheng had already heard about this Song Zhao from the Empress.
The Empress said she was extraordinarily beautiful and charming, but due to an allergy to peach tree pollen, she had developed some red rashes on her face.
Today, upon seeing her, the Empress's words proved true.
Although Song Zhao's facial rash looked alarming, it was still evident that her features were exceptionally superior.
Xiao Jingheng's gaze did not linger on her for long.
After a brief glance, he quickly refocused his attention on the memorial.
However, he did not ignore Song Zhao. He said, "Come forward and attend to the writing materials."
"Yes, I will follow Your orders," Song Zhao replied.
Stepping lightly, Song Zhao walked to Xiao Jingheng's side.
She rolled up her sleeves slightly, revealing a section of fair and delicate wrist, and then took a cinnabar inkstone to start grinding ink.
"Boom!"
Outside the window, the sound of thunder grew denser.
Unintentionally, Song Zhao's hand trembled, causing the ink droplet to spill outside the inkstone.
She hurriedly took the handkerchief from her waist and wiped away the ink droplet.
Xiao Jingheng glanced sideways and asked in a cold tone, "Are you afraid?"
"N-No, I'm not afraid," Song Zhao's voice stuttered and trembled, clearly telling a falsehood.
Xiao Jingheng could tell that she was putting on a brave front, but he didn't press further and continued to calmly review the memorial.
Before long, the sound of raindrops tapping against the window grew louder.
The rain grew heavier, and the wind blew stronger, until it pushed open the latticed window beside the warm seat, letting in dampness and gusts of wind that blew a memorial off the table.
Song Zhao quickly ran to the window, forcefully closed the latticed window, and latched it.
Then she turned around and picked up the fallen memorial, presenting it to Xiao Jingheng with both hands.
Throughout the entire process, Xiao Jingheng didn't even spare her a glance.
As the rain continued to patter against the eaves, he casually recited a poem.
"With a single night's gentle thunder, countless threads fall,
Clear light shimmers on azure roof tiles."
He hadn't expected that a soft and delicate female voice would respond to him,
"Affectionate peonies hold tears of spring,
Incapable roses rest on morning branches."
A glimmer flashed in Xiao Jingheng's eyes, and he couldn't help but raise his eyebrows as he reassessed Song Zhao.
"This is Qin Guan's hidden poem, not well-known and rarely heard of, yet you know it?"
Song Zhao's beautiful eyes shimmered, her cheeks blushed, and she tenderly replied, "My father enjoys reading poetry and books. I have been exposed to them, so I have a superficial understanding. I hope I haven't embarrassed Your Majesty by showing off in front of you."
This time, the distance between the two of them was less than three feet, allowing Xiao Jingheng to see her more clearly.
There was a natural charm in every frown and wrinkle.
When she went to close the window in the rain, her cheeks and temples were wet with raindrops.
Xiao Jingheng reached out to brush away the water droplets on her cheek, but Song Zhao instinctively took a step back, trying to evade.
But it was too late.
At the moment when Xiao Jingheng's fingers touched Song Zhao's cheek, the water droplet was wiped away, along with the red rash in that spot, which faded away.
Xiao Jingheng toyed with the paint-stained water on his fingertips,
Seeing this, Song Zhao was greatly alarmed and quickly kneeled down,
"Your Majesty, please forgive me..."
Xiao Jingheng's sharp gaze met Song Zhao's panicked eyes,
He flicked away the water stain on his fingertip and his deep voice carried a strong sense of oppression,
"By doing this, do you not desire to serve in bed?"
