On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

The afternoon sun was shining brightly, shining through the nearly colorless transparent glazed windows that covered an entire wall of the warm room in the Regent's Palace, filling the room with warmth and forming a gentle contrast with the slightly chilly early spring breeze outside the window.

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 covered with dark green peacock velvet cushions.

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, illuminated by the bright spring sunshine, presents a texture as deep as a cold pond at midnight. It absorbs the light but reflects faint blue and dark purple light from within, which is mysterious and noble.

On the robe, the one hundred phoenixes woven with countless rare gold, silver and colored threads and the peerless embroidery technique of "gold-plated velvet" seem to be injected with life under the abundant light.

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 rubies, sapphires or cat's eyes, 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 trumpet sleeves spread across the soft cushions on the couch, and the fine black pearl tassels adorning the cuffs were illuminated by the sunlight, giving off a warm luster. And the massive, ink-colored, jewel-studded train, three meters long and seamlessly integrated into the robe, was also a massive, three-meter-long train.

It was not carefully spread out by palace maids as it was during court meetings, but rather 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 inky river across the mirror-like golden nanmu floor. The gemstones inlaid on it (black diamonds, black jade, deep sapphires) sparkled in the sun with low-key but not to be ignored bright stars.

She did not tie her hair up, and her long black hair fell down like a waterfall. Some of it was spread on the peacock down cushion, while some of it flowed over the phoenix pattern on her black robe. The black and white were distinct and breathtaking.

She was barefoot, a pair of delicate and beautiful jade feet sticking out from under the layers of her black robe, with exquisite ankles, slightly curled up, rubbing against the soft cushion beneath her body.

Murong Yan held neither memorials nor account books in her hands, but rather a newly acquired, rare, flower-and-bird 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 a seal on the page.

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

He had just finished discussing matters with officials from the Ministry of Works and had changed into a wide-sleeved casual suit the color of rain-soaked sky. His dark hair was half-tied up with a simple mutton-fat jade hairpin, and he still carried a hint of the scent of ink and dust from the study.

But when he stepped into the warm room and saw this scene, all his fatigue and troubles disappeared in an instant, leaving only tenderness and amazement in his heart.

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 sunlight, on the phoenixes on her black robe that seemed to be breathing, on her scattered black hair and slightly curled jade feet.

As if sensing his gaze, Murong Yan raised her head from her painting and glanced sideways. Seeing it was him, a warm smile immediately blossomed across her cold and beautiful face, like a thawed glacier and the return of spring.

"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. "Look at the rendering of the petals in Yun Nantian's boneless flower painting from the previous dynasty. They are so clear and lively, as if covered with dew..."

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, the light in her eyes that lit up when she loved something. He followed her fingertips and nodded in agreement. "It's truly exquisite. The brushwork is elegant and the spirit is vivid. Yan'er likes it. Tomorrow I'll have someone look for Yun Nantian's original work."

Upon hearing this, Murong Yan glanced at him in disapproval. "My husband is here again! How could an authentic work be so easy to find? I am already quite content with just this exquisitely printed volume 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 wore felt cool and silky to the touch, the golden phoenix wings embroidered on it slightly scratching, but it only made the warmth and softness of the jade in his arms seem even more precious. He lowered his head, his chin gently nuzzling 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.

"Today... no one is bothering my husband, right?"

She seemed to want to show concern, but didn't know where to start.

Lin Zhen held her troublesome fingers and squeezed them in his palm: "No. Today is quiet, just right to accompany you."

He did not want to talk about the tedious government affairs, but just wanted to enjoy this rare quiet time.

His tone was calm and confident, carrying a soothing power. Murong Yan felt at ease listening to it. She interlocked her fingers with his and asked softly, "So...husband, have you been with me all day?"

"I'll always be with you." Lin Zhen promised, lowering his head to kiss her fingertips.

As the sun gradually sets, the calcium carbide lamps in the hall automatically light up one by one. The soft light replaces the natural afterglow, making the hall still bright but even more warm.

Lin Zhen seemed to remember something and took out a slender rosewood box from his sleeve. On the surface of the box was an exquisite picture of a phoenix and a crane singing in harmony inlaid with mother-of-pearl.

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

"A few days ago, a foreign country presented it as a tribute. It was called a 'music box'." Lin Zhen opened the wooden box. Inside was not jewelry, but an exquisitely shaped gilded mechanical device with two lifelike little golden men standing on it, dancing towards each other.

"When you wind the spring, it will play music by itself, and the little man will also spin."

He said, carefully turning the key on the side of the box.

After a slight and pleasant sound of a mechanism, crisp and tinkling music flowed out, and the two little golden men really began to slowly spin and dance to the music with graceful postures.

Murong Yan opened her beautiful eyes wide in surprise, and covered her lips with her hands under her trumpet sleeves: "How...how did they do that? No one is playing..."

Her eyes were filled with surprise, and even a hint of subtle vigilance. She was always instinctively wary of this overly sophisticated mechanical creation that seemed to have its own life.

Lin Zhen noticed her uneasiness, held the music box farther away, and spoke softer. "It's just the power of a mechanism, pre-set. It's similar to a clock, not a living thing."

He explained patiently, trying to allay her little fear.

Murong Yan carefully examined the spinning figure, then listened to the clear yet somewhat monotonous and repetitive music. Her tense expression relaxed slightly, but she still didn't reach out to touch it. She simply commented quietly, "...The music is indeed clear, but...it lacks a bit of personality."

She still prefers string and bamboo orchestral performances by real people.

Lin Zhen smiled, not forcing it. He closed the music box and put it aside. "If you don't like it, then don't keep it. I'll have the music troupe come to the mansion tomorrow and play the newly arranged 'Rainbow Skirt and Feathered Coat' for you."

Murong Yan finally smiled, anticipation in her eyes: "Really?"

"Of course it's true." Lin Zhen assured.

At this time, the palace maids quietly served dinner. Because they were in the warm room, the meal was not a feast, but a few exquisite snacks and a pot of warm osmanthus wine.

During the meal, Murong Yan's three-meter-long train was carefully gathered by a maid and placed on a specially made, gilded stand covered with soft satin. Lin Zhen, as usual, personally served her the dishes and occasionally fed her favorite snacks directly to her lips.

Murong Yan was also used to such intimacy. She ate with small nibbles from his hand, lightly covering her mouth with her flared sleeves, and her eyes were full of charm.

After the meal, Murong Yan felt a little tired and leaned against Lin Zhen, feeling sleepy. Lin Zhen dismissed his attendants and carried her sideways. The dark, jewel-studded train began to move again, leaving a gorgeous, lazy trail behind him.

He didn't go to the bed, but instead carried her to the chaise longue by the window and sat down, letting her nestle comfortably in his arms. The evening breeze blew in through the slightly opened window, blowing the edges of her trumpet sleeves.

"Husband," Murong Yan nuzzled into his arms, her voice thick with sleep, "Sing a song for me... just like the one our nanny used to sing when we were little..."

Lin Zhen laughed. He didn't know how to sing a lullaby. But seeing her dependent expression, his heart softened. He cleared his throat and hummed a simple Jiangnan children's song from his vague memory.

His voice was low, not gentle, and even a little out of tune, but it was filled with incomparable tenderness and patience.

Murong Yan's lips curved sweetly as he hummed in a discordant voice, and she gradually drifted off to sleep. Her black phoenix robe spread out beneath the twilight lamplight, 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 moment before placing a kiss on her forehead. They fell asleep together on the couch in the warm room, hugging each other. The three-meter-long, inky black tail, like a protective wing, gently enveloped the two of them as they embraced.

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.