On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

It was almost dusk, the sun was setting in the west, and the golden afterglow filtered through the clear glazed windows that covered an entire wall of the main bedroom of the Prince Regent's Palace, casting a warm and lazy glow on everything in the hall.

The earthworms had long been adjusted to the most suitable temperature, and the air was filled with a precious, soothing fragrance blended from borneol, agarwood, and the cool fragrance of newly blossoming white plums. It was sweet but not greasy, and elegant and pleasant.

In this space where luxury and tranquility intertwined, Murong Yan was lazily leaning on an extremely large chaise longue by the window.

What she was wearing was not an ordinary woman's pajamas or daily clothes, but the dark black nightgown with a hundred phoenixes that had become her second skin, a symbol of her supreme honor and Lin Zhen's ultimate doting.

The extremely dark black background presents a texture as deep as the stars in the universe under the golden glow of the setting sun. It absorbs the light but reflects faint blue and dark purple light from the inside, which is mysterious and noble.

On the robe, the one hundred phoenixes woven with countless rare gold, silver and colored threads and using peerless embroidery seemed to be injected with life under the setting sun.

Each feather sparkled with a different brilliance: red gold, rose gold, pale gold, silver, purple gold...interwoven and flowing. The phoenix's eyes were inlaid with tiny red and blue sapphires, shining brightly. With the rise and fall of her extremely subtle breathing, those phoenixes seemed to slowly soar and flow in the inky cloud brocade universe, like living things.

The extremely wide bell sleeves were spread on the dark green peacock velvet cushions on the couch. The fine black pearl tassels on the edges of the cuffs were lit by the setting sun, giving off a warm luster.

The giant, ink-colored, jewel-studded train, three meters long and seamlessly connected to the robe, was not carefully spread out by the palace maids as it was during court meetings. Instead, it languidly hung down from the edge of the couch in a casual, homely manner. Part of it was piled on the long-haired carpet under the couch, and part of it spread like an ink-colored river across the mirror-like golden nanmu floor. The gemstones inlaid on it (black diamonds, ink jade, and deep sapphires) sparkled with low-key but not-to-be-ignored brilliance in the sunset.

Her hair was untied, its cascading black strands cascading down, some spread across the peacock down cushions, others flowing over the phoenix pattern on her black robe. The stark contrast between black and white was breathtaking. Her bare feet, delicate and graceful, peeked out from beneath the folds of her dark robe. Her ankles were slender and graceful, slightly curled up, rubbing against the soft down cushions beneath her.

Murong Yan held neither memorials nor account books in her hands, but rather a newly acquired, rare landscape painting album from the previous dynasty, which she was absorbed in. Her trumpet sleeves slipped slightly, revealing a sliver of her snow-white forearm. Her slender fingertips gently tapped on a certain inscription on the painting page.

This was the scene Lin Zhen saw when he came in.

After finishing his official business, he changed into a cloud-blue wide-sleeved casual suit, and half-tied his black hair with a simple mutton-fat jade hairpin. He looked a little tired, but when he stepped into the palace and saw the scene before him, all his fatigue disappeared in an instant, leaving only a heart full of tenderness and amazement.

He walked very lightly, fearing to disturb this tranquil and beautiful scene. He walked to the edge of the couch and sat down very naturally on the edge, right at the starting point of the three-meter tail.

He did not speak immediately, but his eyes lingered gently on her profile softened by the setting sun, on the phoenixes on her black robe that seemed to be breathing, on her scattered black hair and slightly curled jade feet.

As if she felt his gaze, Murong Yan raised her head from the painting album and looked at him sideways.

When she saw it was him, a warm smile immediately blossomed on her cold and beautiful face, as if the glaciers had thawed and spring had returned to the earth.

"My husband is back." Her voice was a little lazy and hoarse, and naturally charming.

"Yeah," Lin Zhen replied, reaching out and naturally tucking a strand of her hair that had fallen down her cheek behind her ear. His fingertips inadvertently brushed against her delicate earlobe. "What are you looking at so intently?"

Murong Yan moved the painting album towards him, brushing his arm with her trumpet sleeve. "This is a copy of the painting 'A Thousand Rocks and Valleys' by the great Li Dazhao of the previous dynasty. Look at the texture of the rocks here. It's absolutely amazing..."

She pointed it out to him enthusiastically, her eyes twinkling with pure admiration.

Lin Zhen was familiar with painting, but not a master. But he loved seeing her like this, loved the light in her eyes when she loved something. He followed her fingertips and nodded in agreement, "It's truly exquisite. Yan'er likes it. Tomorrow I'll have someone look for Master Li's original painting."

Upon hearing this, Murong Yan glanced at him in disapproval, "My husband is here again. How could the original be so easy to find? I am already quite content with just this copy to enjoy."

As she spoke, she put down the painting album and leaned softly towards him.

Lin Zhen smiled, opened his arms and held her in his arms.

The black robe she was wearing felt cool and silky to the touch. The golden phoenix wings embroidered on it were slightly scratchy, but it made the warm and soft jade in her arms seem even more real and precious.

He lowered his head and gently rubbed his chin against the top of her head, which exuded the fragrance of cold plums: "My Yan'er is becoming more and more content now."

Murong Yan found a comfortable position in his arms and rubbed against him like a satisfied cat. Her wide flared sleeves fell on his legs, and the pearl tassels on the cuffs swayed gently.

She raised her face, resting her chin on his chest, her eyes charming, "How do you treat me, my husband? Do you want me to be an unsatisfied woman, asking you for the stars and the moon every day?"

"If you really want it, I'll pick it." Lin Zhen lowered his head, looked at her deeply, and his tone was half joking and half serious.

Murong Yan's cheeks were slightly hot when he looked at her, and she felt sweet in her heart, but she deliberately snorted: "Slippery tongue..."

As she spoke, she stretched out her hand from under her trumpet sleeves and gently poked his chest with her fingertips.

"At court today, Old Censor Li almost got into an argument with the Minister of War over the new policy on military farming in the western border. Really..."

She seemed to want to complain, but didn't know how to put it, so she just frowned her delicate eyebrows.

Lin Zhen held her disruptive fingers and squeezed them in his palm. "A little quarrel is nothing to worry about. There will always be resistance when implementing new policies. They can argue as they please, and we can do ours. There's no need to worry about it."

His tone was calm and firm, with a power that could soothe people's hearts.

Murong Yan listened, and her slight annoyance instantly vanished. She interlocked her fingers with his and asked softly, "So... has my husband made up his mind?"

"Yeah." Lin Zhen replied calmly, not wanting to talk about politics. He just said, "Don't worry, I'll take care of everything."

Murong Yan really stopped asking and leaned back into his arms with peace of mind. She had complete, almost blind trust in him.

The setting sun gradually sank into the distant mountains, and the calcium carbide lamps in the hall automatically lit up gradually. The soft light replaced the natural afterglow, making the hall still bright but more warm.

Lin Zhen seemed to remember something and took out a thumb-sized, crystal-white mutton-fat jade box from his sleeve. On the lid of the box was carved a lifelike miniature phoenix with its wings spread out, ready to fly.

"What is this?" Murong Yan looked at it curiously.

"This is a little gadget made by those guys from the Institute of Gewu," Lin Zhen opened the jade box, and inside was a translucent paste that exuded the elegant sweet fragrance of osmanthus.

"They say it's called 'Hand-Soothing Creamy Oil,' and it uses some new method to extract flower oil. It's more delicate and moisturizing than ordinary ointments. I think it smells good, so I'll give it to you to try."

Murong Yan's eyes lit up slightly, and she stretched out her slender hands from under her flared sleeves, which were well-maintained but occasionally felt dry due to the winter.

However, Lin Zhen did not hand the jade box to her. Instead, he dipped his fingertips in a little milky white cream, pulled her hand over, and applied it to her personally.

His movements were gentle and careful, from the fingertips to the gaps between the fingers, to the back of the hand and wrist, leaving no inch of skin untouched, as if he were treating a rare treasure.

The slightly cool paste melted under his warm fingertips and was applied to the skin, bringing a delicate and moist touch, and the sweet fragrance of osmanthus lingered faintly.

Murong Yan blushed slightly, but did not withdraw her hand, allowing him to serve her. Her eyes fell on their intertwined hands. His wheat-colored hands with distinct knuckles formed a sharp contrast with her snow-white, slender and soft hands, yet they were unusually harmonious.

"My husband now... seems like my dressing maid..." She muttered softly, but her tone was full of joy that could not be concealed.

Lin Zhen chuckled softly, painted one of her hands, and then took the other: "It is their blessing, and mine, to be able to serve Her Majesty the Empress."

After both hands were painted, the sweet fragrance of osmanthus lingered. Lin Zhen did not let go of her hand. Instead, he lowered his head and gently placed a kiss on the back of her soft hand.

The lips are warm and the touch is soft.

Murong Yan's heart trembled suddenly, as if being gently scratched by a feather. A tingling sensation quickly spread from the back of her hand to her entire body, and her cheeks instantly flushed. She subconsciously tried to pull her hand back, but he held it tighter.

"Husband..." Her voice trembled slightly, and her eyes were full of charm.

Lin Zhen raised his head, his deep eyes reflecting her blushing face, his eyes gradually darkening. He said nothing, but slowly lowered his head, aiming at her slightly parted, cherry-red lips.

Murong Yan subconsciously closed her eyes, her long eyelashes trembling like butterfly wings.

Just as his lips were about to fall, there was a very light knock on the door, and the steward cautiously announced, "Your Majesty, Your Majesty, dinner is ready. Shall we serve it now?"

The charming atmosphere was broken in an instant.

Murong Yan suddenly opened her eyes, like a frightened deer, and sat up straight from Lin Zhen's arms, her cheeks still flushed and her eyes flickering.

Lin Zhen paused, a flicker of displeasure at being interrupted flashing across his eyes, but it quickly faded. He took a deep breath, suppressed his restlessness, and regained his composure. "Go ahead."

He lowered his head, looking at the embarrassed look of the person beside him, and couldn't help but chuckle again. He reached out to straighten her slightly messy clothes and hair, and brushed her hot earlobe with his fingertips. He whispered, "Let's continue after dinner?"

Murong Yan was so embarrassed that she hit him lightly with her hand under her trumpet sleeves: "Eat!"

Dinner was served in the warm hall next to the bedroom.

The dishes were exquisite, all of which Murong Yan enjoyed daily. During the meal, the three-meter-long tail was carefully gathered up by the maid and placed on a specially made gilded stand covered with soft satin to prevent it from getting dusty.

After the meal, Murong Yan felt a little tired and leaned against Lin Zhen, feeling sleepy. Lin Zhen dismissed his attendants, lifted her up and carried her horizontally, heading towards the dragon bed. The inky, jewel-studded train began to move again, leaving a gorgeous, languid trail behind him.

He laid her gently on the bed, then lay down fully dressed, holding her and her gorgeous, heavy black robe in his arms.

"Go to sleep, Yan'er." He patted her back gently, as if comforting a child.

Murong Yan found a comfortable position in his arms, breathing in his reassuring scent, and soon fell asleep. Her black phoenix robe spread across her bed, its gold threads shimmering and gemstones gleaming. Her peaceful sleeping face was the most moving sight in this ultimate luxury.

Lin Zhen stared at her for a long time before he kissed her forehead and fell asleep together.

The moonlight outside the hall is like water, the inside of the hall is warm like spring, and the ink-colored phoenix rests in a peaceful dreamland.