The next morning, Lu Wancheng’s light cough woke Lin Qingyu up, since he was a light sleeper. Lu Wancheng lay on his side on the wedding bed, his long, black hair mostly covering his face; his posture was casual and relaxed.
Lin Qingyu had just gotten up from the soft divan when a knock came at the door.
“Young Master, Young Lord, it’s time to get up. According to tradition, you need to serve tea to the marquess and marchioness later.”
Lu Wancheng showed no sign of awakening.
Lin Qingyu opened the door and let in the maids. The one in front was Fengqin, Lu Wancheng’s personal servant. She carried in hot water; when she noticed the quilt on the divan, her face twitched.
Half the maids who’d entered helped Lin Qingyu wash and dress, while the other half roused Lu Wancheng. Lin Qingyu changed into a snow-blue robe and put his hair into a simple updo with a jade ornament. These normal men’s robes still looked elegant on him, but they were less colorful and more dignified than his attire the night before.
Fengqin wanted to put makeup on him. “No need,” he told her.
“But I saw you wearing it yesterday, Young Lord.”
“As you said, yesterday.” Lin Qingyu’s gaze swept over the trousseau on the table. “Take all these things away,” he said, irritated.
He’d finished dressing, yet Lu Wancheng was still asleep. A couple of maids flanked the bed, calling out to him softly.
“Young Master, you and the Young Lord should serve tea to the marquess and marchioness.”
“Young Master…”
Lu Wancheng didn’t move, his expression peaceful. His hands remained clasped over his chest like those of a Buddha statue.
“Did the young marquess pass out again?” Fengqin asked anxiously.
Lin Qingyu went up to Lu Wancheng and carefully examined him. “No. He’s just sound asleep. You can simply force him awake.”
“What do you mean, ‘force’ him awake?” Fengqin asked.
“Raise your voice or lift his quilt,” he replied. “But don’t forget that he’s still ill. Don’t disturb his rest unless you want to worsen his condition.”
Fengqin looked chagrined. “But the marquess and marchioness—”
Lin Qingyu interrupted her. “You want him to serve tea despite being this sick? Is tradition more important than his life?” In the Great Yu Empire, newlyweds served tea to their parents the day after the ceremony—so if Lu Wancheng didn’t have to go, then Lin Qingyu probably wouldn’t have to either.
Before the empress set the wedding in motion, the marchioness of Nan’an—Lady Liang—had sent someone over to propose a marriage between the Lin and Lu families. Lin Qingyu decisively refused, however. Only then did Lady Liang ask the empress for help, thus placing the Lin family in a position where they could only marry Lin Qingyu off or die. Lin Qingyu didn’t want to pay the marquess and marchioness any attention at all, let alone treat them as his in-laws.
Fengqin didn’t dare make the decision on her own, so she sent a maid to report the situation to Lady Liang. Shortly after, the auntie who served Lady Liang came to say, “The marchioness says the young master rarely sleeps well, so let him sleep. Drinking the young lord’s tea will be sufficient for her and the marquess.”
Lin Qingyu sneered. “As I thought, the lady loves her son as much as her own life.”
He had to follow orders in the marquess’s manor. However unwilling he felt, he could only put on his winter cloak and follow the auntie to the front hall.
On the way there, the auntie rambled, listing the rules of the manor’s inner chambers. Lin Qingyu didn’t bother listening, zoning out. Yesterday, he had worn a bridal veil and could only see a few steps in front of his feet. Today, he finally saw what the marquess’s manor looked like. Though Lin Qingyu had never entered the palace, he’d once visited the prince’s manor with his father for consultations. The opulence of the marquess’s manor was comparable; it had exquisitely dignified carved beams and painted rafters. The marquess’s status at court was clearly extraordinary.
In the front hall, the marquess of Nan’an and Lady Liang sat in the seats of honor. The marquess was nearly forty and looked rather taciturn, with a resolute face. Lady Liang still had feminine charm, with kind eyes and gentle features; she looked like a noblewoman who would be easy to get along with.
Taking the tea the auntie handed him, Lin Qingyu imagined poisoning it. What kind of toxin would force the marquess and marchioness to taste the loss of freedom?
They drank his tea. Smiling, Lady Liang asked, “Did you sleep well last night, Qingyu?”
Lin Qingyu came back to his senses. “Well enough,” he said.
“From now on, the manor is your home. If something is unfamiliar, you can tell Mother.”
“Thank you, Lady.”
The auntie seemed annoyed. “Why are you still calling her ‘Lady’? You need to call her ‘Mother,’ like the young marquess does.”
This auntie is quite persistent about demanding I change the way I address others. Why don’t I just call her “Auntie Nitpicky”? If she’s so anxious that the lady be called “mother,” why doesn’t she do it herself?
Lin Qingyu looked down. “It’s difficult to change a habit. Please forgive me, Marquess and Marchioness.”
The marquess of Nan’an looked displeased.
“It’s all right; there’s plenty of time,” Lady Liang replied kindly. “For the first few months after I married into the marquess’s family, I forgot to change the way I addressed others as well.”
“But you should get used to it quickly, so you don’t make fools of us all,” the marquess added.
Thinking of his own parents, Lin Qingyu said stoically, “Yes, Marquess.”
Lady Liang took another sip of tea. “Your bazi is a perfect match for Wancheng’s. That’s why the marquess and I asked the empress to allow this marriage. In the future, Qingyu, you should put your husband first. Serve Wancheng on his sickbed and share some of your good luck with him.”