Chapter 522: Black-Bellied Indeed

On their wedding night, beneath the glow of red candles, a lone man and woman shared a single chamber. Their gazes met, lingering, unbroken—and in that silent exchange, it seemed as though the very air in the room grew warmer, stirred by the invisible heat of their eyes.

“Hey… why do you keep staring at me like that? Don’t you recognize me?”

Li Shu let out a soft, reproachful murmur. Her eyes—like those of a fox spirit—seemed to shimmer with flowing water, deep and unfathomable, like an endless expanse of gentle currents. One could not help but feel drawn in, as though sinking into a boundless sea of tenderness.

“I just never imagined I’d meet you here like this.”

Zhu Ping’an’s lips curved faintly. His gaze drifted from her face to the bridal bed, and then to the plump duck-patterned pillow behind her. The smile at the corner of his mouth deepened, carrying a trace of amusement.

“Oh? Then who did you expect to see here?”

Li Shu shot him a sideways glance, her voice laced with delicate annoyance. Her cherry-red lips looked soft and inviting, almost as if they could be tasted.

“I hadn’t really thought about it.”

Zhu Ping’an rubbed his forehead before shaking his head with certainty. This marriage had truly come as a surprise. Before he had even heard the news, he had never once imagined that he and Li Shu would end up here, sharing a wedding chamber on such a night. But life was like that—full of unknowns, unpredictable and impossible to foresee.

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There are plenty of things you’ve never thought about, Li Shu scoffed inwardly, rolling her eyes.

Watching her roll her eyes, Zhu Ping’an couldn’t help but smile helplessly. Even that small, dismissive gesture of hers looked lively and charming. Truly, the heavens were unfair—when someone was beautiful, even the simplest movement became captivating.

A natural beauty like her… if she lived in modern times, she would outshine even the most famous actresses without effort.

On a night like this, to be paired with such a stunning bride—this kind of fortune was something Zhu Ping’an had only ever indulged in through idle fantasies while watching romantic films in his previous life. Back then, he would have been content just to have a girlfriend; someone of Li Shu’s caliber was beyond even his wildest dreams—surely only the wealthy and privileged could hope for such a partner.

And yet now, he and Li Shu were truly here, in the midst of their wedding night.

“Are you thirsty?”

Zhu Ping’an removed the large red ceremonial flower pinned to his chest, then walked over to the table and poured two cups of tea. Holding one of them, he turned to Li Shu and asked.

“Water bucket…”

Li Shu puffed out her cheeks, letting out a soft, annoyed huff.

“Then forget it.”

Zhu Ping’an shrugged, placing the cup he had intended for her back onto the table before calmly taking a sip from his own.

The tea was golden, steam curling upward in delicate wisps. As he swallowed, the rich aroma spread through his throat, its mellow warmth easing the restlessness in his heart, calming the subtle heat lingering within him.

“Hey, give me a cup of tea.”

Li Shu pouted, extending her small hand toward him.

“Come and get it yourself.”

Zhu Ping’an smiled faintly.

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Li Shu shot him another glance, clearly unwilling, but still rose from the bed. Her embroidered shoes, adorned with tiny pearls, caught the candlelight as she walked with a graceful sway—like willow branches stirred by a gentle breeze. She reached the table and sat across from him, her slender fingers lifting the cup he had poured. Like a cautious kitten, she took a small sip.

The room fell quiet.

Only the faint sound of tea being sipped remained, and for a moment, the atmosphere turned slightly awkward.

“Do you know where the word ‘marriage’ comes from?”

Zhu Ping’an took another sip of tea before looking at her.

“What kind of question is that? The ceremony is performed at dusk, so it’s called ‘hun’ (marriage).”

Li Shu curled her lips in mild disdain. What a fool—what kind of question is this?

Zhu Ping’an shook his head.

Li Shu blinked in surprise, her eyes widening slightly. “What’s wrong with that explanation?”

“It’s said that in primitive times, there were no marriage ceremonies. If a man liked a woman, he would knock her unconscious with a stick and carry her back to his cave… which was, in a sense, entering the bridal chamber. So the word ‘marriage’ comes from a woman being knocked unconscious.”

Zhu Ping’an chuckled softly. It was just a theory he had once come across and found amusing.

“You’re lying. There’s no such explanation. In primitive societies, women held authority—if anything, it would be the woman knocking the man unconscious!”

Li Shu pouted, her tone full of playful indignation.

Looks like her sense of female authority awakened quite early, Zhu Ping’an thought with a quiet smile. Of course, he had only been joking.

“My father must have lost his senses to agree to your family’s proposal.”

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Li Shu pursed her lips. “And they even called it ‘warding off misfortune’—you weren’t even present, and the marriage was already done… it’s all been to your advantage now. There’s no undoing it anymore. Hmph…”

In the past, Zhu Ping’an might have believed her words. But ever since he realized that Li Shu had feelings for him, her complaints sounded… somewhat less convincing.

Still, he didn’t expose her. He simply listened quietly, sipping his tea.

“But since it was arranged by our parents and formalized by a matchmaker, the marriage is already done. There’s no helping it now.”

“Of course you’re happy about it, you scoundrel. Writing about love and affection, even talking about being ‘in love’ and ‘joyful’… what happened to all those sage teachings you studied? Aren’t you ashamed? Just reading it makes me blush!”

Li Shu continued her mock complaints, her face gradually flushing pink, her almond-shaped eyes shimmering like rippling water as she cast him a sidelong glance. Then she stood, walked to the bookshelf behind her, and brought over writing tools—brush, ink, paper, and inkstone—placing them neatly on the table before pushing them toward him.

Zhu Ping’an looked up at her, puzzled.

“Sign your name here.”

Li Shu stepped closer, extending a slender finger to point at the lower right corner of a blank sheet of ivory-colored paper.

Sign… on a blank sheet? For what? Zhu Ping’an was thoroughly confused. Since when did entering the bridal chamber involve signing documents?

“I’ll write mine first.”

Li Shu dipped the brush in ink and wrote her name—“Li Shu”—in elegant, delicate script upon the paper.

“Alright, your turn.”

She handed him the brush, her bright, watery eyes blinking as if they might spill over with emotion, her soft red lips urging him silently.

Though he still didn’t understand her intention, Zhu Ping’an accepted the brush and wrote his name—“Zhu Ping’an”—beside hers.

“My father may have been muddle-headed, but I wasn’t,” Li Shu said, lifting her chin slightly. “Even though we’re married and can’t defy our parents’ wishes, it still depends on how you behave. If you treat me poorly, bully me, or go chasing after other women—hmph—our Ming laws allow for ‘mutual separation’…”

She blew gently on the ink to dry it, then held up the signed paper for him to see before carefully folding it and tucking it into her sleeve as if it were something precious.

What she referred to as “mutual separation” meant divorce by mutual consent—recognized under the laws of the Ming dynasty.

Only then did Zhu Ping’an finally understand why she had asked him to sign. His signature signified agreement. With both of their names on the blank document, it meant mutual consent… and she could write anything she wanted on it later, and it would still count as his approval.

…Clever. And a little devious.

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A girl with a hidden edge beneath her charm, truly black-bellied.

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