On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

The heat in the Jinling Imperial City was getting stronger. Although the ice mirrors on all sides of the Purple Palace emitted a hint of coolness, they could not dispel the barely perceptible fatigue between Murong Yan's brows.

She was not sitting on the lofty dragon throne, but standing in front of a huge painting of "Peace and Prosperity in the Four Seas", her fingertips gently stroking the mark of Guangling County on the map - where canals were like silk threads and lakes were scattered everywhere.

She was not wearing the bright yellow robe with gold phoenix that she wore to court meetings, but a soft silk dress of sky-blue color. The hem of her skirt was only embroidered with a few sparse silver orchid branches. Her long hair was loosely tied up, with a white jade bell hairpin inserted diagonally. The chimes of the bells softened the cold aura that usually surrounded her.

The palace door opened lightly, and Lin Zhen came in as summoned.

He was not wearing any black armor, but a Hangzhou silk robe that looked as blue as the sky after rain, which made him look more upright. However, hanging from his waist was the narrow-bladed long sword that he never left. The dark scabbard was inconsistent with his slightly casual attire at the moment, but it blended in strangely, as if he could escape from the misty rain of Jiangnan and throw himself into the bloody battlefield at any time.

"Yan'er." He bowed, his voice as calm as usual.

Murong Yan didn't turn back, her gaze still lingering on the map, but her voice lost some of its dignity and gained a touch of laziness. "My husband, look at Guangling. The report says the lotus flowers are in full bloom this year, and the moonlight over the Twenty-Four Bridges is exceptionally bright." She paused, her fingertips gently tapping the spot where Guangling was located. "The soldiers have toiled all year, seeing too much blood and fire, and their nerves are stretched too thin. I am also a little tired."

Lin Zhen raised his eyes slightly, his gaze passing over her slightly thin shoulders, and said in a deep voice: "The Holy Body has been working hard and truly needs rest. Guangling, with its soft waters and gentle breezes, is a great place to relax and cultivate one's character."

"It's not rest," Murong Yan finally turned around, with a very faint, almost invisible smile on the corner of her lips. The smile diluted the depth in her eyes, revealing a rare, almost girlish agility.

"It's a holiday. I wish to tour Guangling incognito. All ceremonial attendants are excused, and government affairs will be handled by the cabinet according to the old rules. You, please select a few capable and reliable Xuanwu Guards to provide secret protection."

"Your Majesty, I obey your command." Lin Zhen lowered his head and said nothing more.

He knew very well that this was not a discussion, but a decision she had already made, and she just told him in a gentler way.

Three days later, a blue silk carriage that looked ordinary but was actually decorated very comfortably and exquisitely inside, quietly drove out of Jinling City and headed straight for Guangling under the secret protection of several plain-clothed Xuanwu guards.

Murong Yan changed into a lotus green linen skirt, covered with a moon-white gauze half-sleeve, and wore a veiled hat on her head, looking like a rich lady going out for a trip.

The maid, Musk Moon, wearing an apricot yellow shirt, sat beside the car, carefully holding the car window, looking at the fields of Jiangnan passing by with curiosity and excitement.

Lin Zhen rode beside the carriage on horseback, his blue shirt flamboyant, his eyes sweeping over everything along the way like an eagle. Although dressed like a scholar, his cold and hard demeanor could not be completely concealed.

It was June, just as the saying goes, "Fireworks are in full bloom in Yangzhou in March." Although summer had already begun, the greenery of Jiangnan was still lush and the moisture was abundant. Lotus ponds were everywhere along the way, with green leaves stretching to the sky and the newly bloomed pink and white lotus flowers standing tall and graceful. The wind brought bursts of sweet lotus fragrance, dispelling the stuffiness of the carriage.

Murong Yan would occasionally lift up a corner of her veil and quietly look out the window, looking at the vast paddy fields, the low-flying egrets, the curling smoke from cooking fires, and the neat village houses. It seemed like two different worlds compared to the war reports, seas of blood and mountains of corpses that she usually saw.

After driving for several days, we finally entered the territory of Guangling.

The water in the canal became increasingly wider and calmer, with boats coming and going like shuttles, the sound of oars, and fishermen singing in response to each other, creating a scene of prosperity and tranquility.

Without alerting the local authorities, the carriage drove straight into a waterside villa that had been arranged in advance.

The white walls and black tiles of the villa are hidden in the shade of green willows. When you open the window, you can see the shimmering surface of the West Lake. The sound of music from the pleasure boats in the distance can be heard faintly, like a dream through a layer of gauze.

During the days in Guangling, time seemed to be stretched out, immersed in the warmth and leisure unique to the water town.

In the early morning, the lake was covered with a gauze-like mist. Murong Yan would wear a plain training suit and practice a set of soothing Qigong exercises on the terrace overlooking the water. Her movements were smooth and flowing, blending seamlessly with the scenery of the lake and mountains.

Lin Zhen stood under a willow tree not far away, holding a knife, guarding silently. His eyes were no longer just alert to his surroundings, but sometimes fell on her relaxed figure, watching the morning light cast a soft outline on her.

Breakfast is mostly exquisite Jiangnan snacks: crystal shrimp dumplings, crab meat soup dumplings, three-piece buns, thousand-layer oil cakes, accompanied by the fragrant Kuilongzhu tea.

Murong Yan would use it more often and occasionally make a few comments, with a rare relaxation between her brows.

Musk Moon praised a pine nut and goose fat roll highly, and her eyes narrowed as she ate.

During the day, you can take an inconspicuous black-sailed boat, paddled by an old boatman, and slide silently into the tributary of the Suzhou West Lake.

Avoid the main waterway that is crowded with tourists, and travel through the deep blue waves. Watch the willows on both sides of the river brushing against the water, the ancient stone bridge covered with vines, the people living by the water on the shore, the women washing clothes on the stone steps, and the children playing in the water.

Murong Yan would take off her veil and let the moist lake breeze brush against her face, ruffling a few strands of her hair.

Sometimes she would reach out to touch the cool water, and sometimes she would quietly watch the ripples breaking through the bow, without a word. Lin Zhen sat at the stern, his eyes scanning both banks to ensure everything was in order. However, his tense shoulders eventually relaxed slightly at the sound of the oars and the gurgling water.

After waking up from a nap in the afternoon, you may walk slowly along the ancient streets paved with bluestone slabs.

The old city of Guangling is crisscrossed with streets and alleys, and the market is prosperous.

Murong Yan would stop to watch the old craftsman making dough figurines, watching his fingers flying as he made a vivid Monkey King in an instant; she would also stop in front of the stall selling velvet flowers, select a gorgeous crabapple velvet flower, and let Musk Moon pin it in her hair. The bright color reflected her delicate face, giving it a unique charm.

She would even queue up in front of a busy tea and snack shop to buy a bag of freshly baked, fragrant and hot meat cakes to share with Musk Moon, without any regard for the rules and etiquette of court dining.

Lin Zhen always followed her at a distance of three steps away, like a silent shadow, separating her from the occasional crowded crowd. His eyes swept across the velvet flowers on her temples and the slightly satisfied smile at the corner of her lips, and then he looked around vigilantly.

As dusk falls, the lights come on.

Lanterns on pleasure boats lit up one after another, their reflections in the inky waters shattering into a flowing expanse of golden crimson. Perhaps they would rent a small pleasure boat and drift in the center of the lake, away from the clamor of the larger boats. The boatman served a few seasonal side dishes: stir-fried hand-peeled river shrimp, braised silver carp head, lion's head, and boiled dried bean curd strips—all Guangling specialties.

Murong Yan would sip a glass of locally brewed jasmine wine, listening to the faint sound of a flute drifting in the distance, watching the dim lights and the reflections of the stars. Lin Zhen made an exception and joined in with a drink. The wine was clear, but he felt a tightness in his throat. Musk Moon, leaning over the side of the boat, tried to catch the moon's reflection in the water, her laughter ringing.

On the rare occasions when a drizzle fell, they would stay in the courtyard. Murong Yan would sit by the window, playing the qin, "Fisherman's Song at Dusk" harmonizing with the patter of rain on lotus leaves outside; or she would play a game of Go with Musk Moon, the pieces clacking against the white jade board. Lin Zhen would polish his sword outside, the rhythmic patter of rain dripping down the eaves interweaving with the qin and chess sounds inside, forming a peaceful summer chord.

They climbed Shugang Hill and listened to the echoing bells and watched the curling incense in the quiet courtyard of the ancient temple; they also went to the Twenty-Four Bridges on a moonlit night.

The bridge was bathed in bright moonlight, deserted except for the gurgling water and the subtle fragrance of lotus flowers. Murong Yan leaned against the railing, the moonlight casting a shadow over her like a layer of silver gauze.

She remained silent for a long time, simply watching the shattered moonlight in the water. Lin Zhen stood behind her, equally silent, his hand slightly clenched on the hilt of his knife. Musk Moon, clutching a small lantern, hummed an obscure Jiangnan tune.

June in Guangling is immersed in lotus fragrance, water vapor, tea smoke and soft Wu dialect.

No memorials, no war reports, no court meetings, and no killing.

There is only the rising and setting of the sun and the moon, the flowing water and the small bridge, the hustle and bustle of the city, and a period of stolen time that is so quiet that it is almost luxurious.

Murong Yan's cheeks gradually flushed with the moist air from the south of the Yangtze River, and the weariness between her brows was quietly smoothed away. Even Lin Zhen's usually icy eyes would melt into a subtle gentleness when he looked at the gulls and herons on the lake or when she occasionally smiled.