On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

In the southwest corner of Qixia Garden, the autumn morning at "Bi Bo Xuan" is like a blurred ink painting.

The mist was like a veil, gently covering the small pond.

The water in the pond is clear, reflecting the leaden sky and the sparse shadows of a few weeping willows on the shore.

A few golden willow leaves fell on the water, creating ripples and disturbing the leisurely swimming of several koi fish underwater.

In the center of the pond, a few clusters of water lilies have lost their summer splendor, leaving only dark green lotus leaves spread out, supporting a few late-blooming, lavender buds, gently swaying in the cool morning breeze.

The waterside pavilion is built by the pond, with the bamboo curtain half rolled up, revealing the simple and elegant furnishings inside.

The air was filled with crisp water vapor, the moist scent of earth, and a faint, sweet fragrance of osmanthus - that was the lingering aroma of the osmanthus candied that Huanbi had just made yesterday.

In the water pavilion, Huanbi had been up for a long time.

She was wearing a plain aqua brocade jacket and skirt, without any elaborate embroidery, except for a narrow crescent-shaped white winding branch pattern at the collar and cuffs, as plain as a newly blooming lotus in a pond.

Her black hair was loosely tied into a simple bun, and a lotus hairpin carved from white jade was pinned diagonally. A light yellow tourmaline the size of a grain of rice was the only bright color in the center of the hairpin.

She knelt on a bamboo mat by the window, with a rosewood low table in front of her. The table was covered with plain white rice paper, with paperweights holding down the four corners.

She held a thin wolf-hair brush with the tip dipped in light ink, and was concentrating on sketching the scenery outside the window - a purple water lily in the center of the pond that was about to bloom.

The morning light filtered through the half-rolled bamboo curtain, casting soft shadows on her lowered profile.

She had delicate features and wore no makeup. Her skin was so fair that it was almost transparent. Her long eyelashes cast a small shadow under her eyes, which trembled slightly as the pen tip moved.

Her movements were extremely light and slow, her wrist suspended in the air, her brush strokes as smooth as silk, and every line was carefully and meticulously drawn.

The ink spreads on the rice paper, and the outline of the lotus petals, the direction of the leaf veins, and the texture of the water waves gradually become clear under her brush, with a kind of quiet and lonely beauty.

Lin Zhen's footsteps landed on the bamboo bridge, making a slight "creaking" sound.

He did not wear the black court robe today, but changed into a casual suit with arrow sleeves and dark indigo cloud patterns, which made him look more upright.

He deliberately slowed down his pace and stopped outside the bamboo curtain. His eyes passed through the gap and fell on the figure who was concentrating on painting in the pavilion.

The morning breeze blew, the bamboo curtain swayed gently, and light and shadow flowed over her body, as quiet as a painting.

He didn't go in immediately, but just watched quietly.

Watch the movement of her pen tip, the concentration in her brows, the occasional furrowed brow when she was not satisfied with a stroke, and the faint smile of satisfaction that spread across the corners of her lips when she captured the subtle curve of the lotus petals.

This concentration and tranquility, like the water in a pond, silently cleansed the dust in his heart caused by the trivial matters of the court.

After a moment, he raised his hand and gently pushed aside the bamboo curtain.

"Bi'er." His voice was low and gentle, like a stone thrown into a pond, breaking the silence of the water pavilion.

When Huanbi heard the sound, her wrist trembled and the tip of the pen left a strange ink mark on the rice paper.

She raised her head, and two red clouds instantly appeared on her pretty face, like a disturbed water lily, with a hint of panic and shyness.

She quickly put down her pen, stood up and bowed gracefully: "Husband..."

"Painting water lilies?" Lin Zhen stepped into the pavilion, his eyes fixed on the drawing paper. The ink mark landed squarely on the center of the lotus.

"Yes..." Huanbi's voice was weak, with a hint of annoyance, "My hands are clumsy... I have stained the painting..."

"It's okay." Lin Zhen walked to the low table and leaned over to take a closer look. "The shape and spirit are already there. This little bit of ink is just right to make a lotus pod." He picked up the pen, dipped it in slightly thicker ink, and lightly outlined the ink spot with a few strokes. A plump lotus pod prototype appeared on the paper, contrasting with the surrounding petals.

Huanbi's eyes lit up as she watched the flaw being cleverly resolved and transformed into life in the painting. Her annoyance instantly dissipated, replaced by sincere admiration: "My husband's brushwork is amazing."

"Bi'er draws very well." Lin Zhen put down his brush and looked at her slightly red cheeks. "Especially the water ripples, so lively and natural."

"Thank you for the compliment, my husband..." Huanbi lowered her head shyly, her fingers unconsciously twisting the corner of her clothes.

"Have you had breakfast?" Lin Zhen asked.

"I have. It's just some light porridge and some side dishes." Huanbi replied softly, "Would you like some, my husband? I'll ask the kitchen to prepare some more."

"No need." Lin Zhen shook his head. "Accompany Bi'er to look at the paintings."

The two stood side by side in front of the low table, looking at the unfinished water lily painting.

The morning light flows through the water pavilion, and the air is filled with the fragrance of ink and the cool scent of pond water.

Huanbi's heartbeat gradually calmed down, and the panic caused by his arrival was replaced by a quiet warmth.

She quietly raised her eyes and stole a glance at his quiet profile, feeling an indescribable sense of peace in her heart.

......

After a simple lunch, Lin Zhen suggested taking a walk in the garden.

Huanbi responded meekly, still half a step behind him, following quietly.

The palace garden is colorful in autumn.

Golden chrysanthemums are in full bloom, red osmanthus is fragrant, maple leaves are like fire, and ginkgo leaves are covered with gold.

The sunlight shines through the sparse branches and leaves, casting mottled shadows on the ground.

The two walked along the winding stone path, their footsteps clearly audible in the quiet afternoon.

Huanbi's gaze lingered on the gorgeous flowers and trees, with pure appreciation in her eyes, but she didn't say much.

Walk to a secluded corner deep in the garden.

The wisteria trellis has long passed its flowering period, with only dark green vines remaining.

A small bamboo swing hung under the trellis, with withered vine tendrils wrapped around the rope, swaying gently in the wind.

"Bi'er, do you want to sit for a while?" Lin Zhen stopped and looked at the swing.

Huanbi looked at the swing, and a long-lost yearning flashed in her eyes, as if a dusty memory was quietly touched.

She hesitated for a moment and shook her head gently: "I am old, it is not good..."

"It's okay." Lin Zhen walked to the swing and brushed the fallen leaves off the bamboo chair. "Your husband will push you."

There was a gentleness in his voice that was undeniable.

Huanbi hesitated, but finally walked over and carefully sat sideways on the swing, holding the ropes on both sides tightly with her hands, her body slightly stiff.

Lin Zhen stood behind her and pushed gently.

The swing swung slowly, with a small amplitude, as gentle as a cradle.

The wind blew through her hair, bringing the sweet fragrance of osmanthus and the warmth of the sun.

Huanbi's tense body gradually relaxed, and her fingers gripping the rope also loosened a little.

"Bi'er also loved swinging when she was a child?" Lin Zhen's voice came from behind him.

"Hmm..." Huanbi replied softly, looking at the swaying tree shadows in front of her. "There is also a swing by the small river in front of my hometown. It was made by my father himself."

Her voice was filled with a hint of distant nostalgia: "In spring, willow catkins fluttered, in summer, cicadas chirped, in autumn, osmanthus blossoms fell. Daddy always pushed me at dusk, swinging me so high that I felt I could touch the clouds in the sky..."

"Bi'er, are you missing home?" Lin Zhen's voice was low, with a hint of subtle inquiry.

The swing slowly came to a stop. Huanbi fell silent, her delicate profile hazy in the light and shadow.

After a long while, she spoke softly, her voice choked with a barely perceptible sob: "I miss you... I miss you so much. I miss the river in front of the door, the weeping willows by the river, and the osmanthus cakes my father made..."

She took a deep breath, trying to suppress her surging emotions. She turned her head and looked at Lin Zhen. Her eyes were shining, but she forced a smile: "But Daddy said that Bi'er is already a member of the palace. She must abide by her duties and serve her husband. This is Bi'er's home..."

Lin Zhen looked at her trying hard to hold back her tears, and his heart moved slightly.

He walked up to her, squatted down, and looked her in the eye: "Bi'er, your father hopes that you will live a good life. He doesn't want you to sever your blood ties. If you want to go back to see your husband, I can arrange it."

Huanbi stared at his deep eyes, which contained no perfunctory or testing attitude, only a quiet and reassuring power.

Huge surprise and complex emotions suddenly surged into her heart, making it almost impossible for her to breathe.

However, this thought only flashed through my mind.

She remembered her father's earnest instructions last year, the rules of the palace, and her own identity.

She cannot be willful and cause trouble for her husband.

She shook her head vigorously, tears finally falling, but her voice was unusually clear: "No... no need. Husband, Bi'er can't go back. Bi'er belongs to the palace and will stay here for the rest of her life."

Lin Zhen looked at her tearful yet resolute appearance, and felt a surge of pity in his heart.

He reached out his hand and gently wiped away the tears on her cheek, his fingertips touching her slightly cool skin: "Silly Bi'er."

He said no more, but gently held her in his arms.

Huanbi snuggled up to his chest, feeling the warmth of his chest and his steady heartbeat, as if the drifting boat had finally found a harbor.

The deep homesickness and the unspeakable grievances, at this moment, turned into silent tears, soaking his clothes.

Wisteria vines swayed gently in the wind, and fallen leaves drifted silently. Only the creaking of the swing ropes and the woman's suppressed, subtle sobs echoed in the silent afternoon.