On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

The summer night was deep, the moonlight like water, filtering through the hollow carved window lattices at the highest point of the Regent's Palace's bedroom, casting a clear light across the ground. The icebergs at the four corners of the palace silently emanated a subtle coolness, dispelling the lingering heat of the day and leaving behind only a refreshing tranquility.

The air is filled with the elegant scent of cold plum and ambergris, which soothes the mind and calms the heart.

Deep in the bedroom, on the enormous rosewood bed, the shark silk curtain was not completely lowered, but only half held up with a golden phoenix hook, allowing the moonlight and the soft glow of a few dim calcium carbide lamps left in the corners of the hall to flow in, shrouding everything in hazy and warm light.

Murong Yan hadn't fallen asleep. She leaned sideways on a pile of soft pillows, still wearing the same dark black nightgown with a hundred phoenixes.

The extremely dark black background, under the hazy light, presents a texture that is darker than the night and smoother than black jade. It absorbs the weak light, but reflects the subtle luster of dark blue and dark purple from the deepest part, mysterious and noble, making her exposed skin look like the first snow under the moonlight, bright and shining.

Above the robe, the one hundred phoenixes, woven with countless rare gold and silver threads and using the peerless "gold-plated velvet" and "beaded embroidery" techniques, are restrained in the dark. Only when the angle changes occasionally can one glimpse the splendor of red gold, rose gold, silver-white, and purple gold flowing on their wings, like sleeping galaxies flowing in the inky sky. The gems on the phoenix eyes are like dormant stars, occasionally flashing a faint light.

One of the extremely wide bell sleeves spread out beside the pillow, with the fine black pearl tassels on the edge of the cuffs motionless, while the other one hung softly on the edge of the couch.

The giant black jewel-studded train, three meters long and seamlessly connected to the robe, was not spread out as carefully as it was during the day. Instead, it was spread out with the laziness and casualness of sleeping, like a tired black galaxy, winding across the wide bed and covering most of the quilt.

The black diamonds, black jade and deep sapphires inlaid on it sparkled with cold and brilliant fragmented light in the weak light, as if the entire galaxy was covering the bed.

She did not tie her hair up, and her long black hair was all loose, flowing between the phoenix pattern on her black robe, the dark brocade pillow and her smooth shoulders and neck. 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, slightly curled up, rubbing against the cool silk satin beneath her body.

Lin Zhen was not asleep. He was half leaning on the edge of the couch, wearing a plain silk nightgown, with his black hair loose. He was not holding any books or drawings in his hands, but was gazing at the person who was pretending to sleep beside him with calm eyes and endless tenderness.

One of his hands rested casually on his bent knee, while the other hand casually and very gently combed her long black hair that was scattered on the side of his legs. The feeling of his fingertips sliding across her hair was delicate and lingering.

Murong Yan wasn't truly asleep. Her long eyelashes fluttered gently like butterfly wings. She felt the gentle touch of his fingertips, her heart sweet and warm, as if wrapped in warm honey. She shifted slightly, moving closer to him, her wide, flared sleeves brushing against the back of his hand.

"Did I wake you up?" Lin Zhen asked in a low voice. His voice was particularly low and pleasant in the silent night, with a barely perceptible hoarseness.

Murong Yan slowly opened her eyes. There was no trace of sleep in them, only a shimmering light that was startlingly bright in the dim light. She shook her head slightly, her voice soft and lazy, "No... I wasn't asleep in the first place."

As she spoke, she raised her face slightly to look at him, "Why aren't you sleeping yet, husband?"

"Looking at Yan'er, I don't feel sleepy anymore." Lin Zhen raised the corners of his lips slightly, his fingertips slid from her hair and gently brushed her cheek. The touch was delicate and slightly cool, like the best warm jade.

Murong Yan's cheeks felt slightly hot, and she subconsciously tried to avoid his burning gaze, but was held in place by the gentle strength of his fingertips.

She lowered her eyelashes, her hands unconsciously clutching the quilt beneath her bell-shaped sleeves, and muttered softly, "...What's so good about it..."

"Every aspect of her beauty is remarkable." Lin Zhen chuckled softly, leaning down and resting his forehead lightly against hers. His nose nuzzled against hers, their breaths audible, their scents blending together. "Her eyebrows are as black as a frown, her face is as bright as a lotus, she's breathtakingly beautiful... My Yan'er, I can never get enough of looking at her."

His love words were straightforward and passionate, making Murong Yan's ears red and her heart numb. She couldn't help but stretch out her hand from under her flared sleeves and gently pushed his chest: "You're so smooth-talking..." But the force was weak and had no deterrent effect at all.

Lin Zhen took her resisting hand, slipped his fingertips through hers, and entwined them tightly, then gently pressed her hand against his heart. Through the thin layer of nightgown, Murong Yan could clearly feel his steady and powerful heartbeat, beating against her palm again and again, as if it were gradually merging with her own heartbeat.

"Do you feel it?" He stared into her eyes, his voice low and serious, "Here, every beat is for you."

Murong Yan's heart skipped a beat, then began to beat even faster. She was overwhelmed by his burning gaze and blunt words. Her eyes flickered, and she wanted to look away, but she was locked in his gaze with deep affection.

The body beneath the black robe felt slightly warm, and the sense of restraint brought by the heavy and gorgeous clothes seemed to have transformed into some kind of strange and reassuring package.

"Husband..." she called softly, her voice filled with dependence and coquettishness that she herself was not aware of.

"Hmm?" Lin Zhen responded, gently stroking the back of her hand with his thumb.

"That painting...that you painted today..." she suddenly asked softly, "...you painted me...too beautifully..." She thought of the woman in the painting during the day, who was dressed in extremely gorgeous clothes and had gentle and dependent eyes. She always felt that it was not entirely her true self.

"Not beautiful," Lin Zhen shook his head, his eyes focused and sincere, "Not even one ten-thousandth of my Yan'er."

He let go of her hand, and his fingertips gently traced her eyebrows, her eyes, her nose, and finally lingered on her delicate lips.

"Paper, brush, and ink are ultimately inanimate objects. How can they possibly depict Yan'er's charm and spirit?"

His fingertips carried a scorching warmth, igniting tiny flames wherever they passed. Murong Yan shuddered slightly, her breathing quickening. Her arms beneath her bell-sleeved sleeves unconsciously wrapped around his neck. She tilted her head slightly, responding to his touch, her eyes gleaming ever more brightly, like a deep pool bathed in moonlight.

Lin Zhen's gaze deepened as he leaned down and kissed her slightly parted red lips. The kiss was gentle and lingering at first, like savoring a rare wine, sipping it carefully and slowly going deeper. Gradually, the force grew, carrying with it an unquestionable sense of possession and deep affection, as if he wanted to knead her into his own flesh and blood.

Murong Yan softened in his embrace, responding awkwardly yet passionately. Her wide, trumpet-shaped sleeves fell, revealing two jade-white arms that tightly embraced his neck. The three-meter-long, inky train slithered across the brocade quilt as she moved, the gemstones inlaid on it reflecting a hazy glimmer.

After a long moment, Lin Zhen finally let go of her, their breathing unsteady. Murong Yan's cheeks were flushed, her eyes were hazy, her lips were slightly swollen, and she was breathing softly against his shoulder.

Lin Zhen's arms were around her waist, holding her tighter in his arms. His chin gently rubbed the top of her head, and his voice was hoarse: "Yan'er..."

"Hmm..." Murong Yan responded softly, burying her hot cheeks in his warm neck, smelling the fresh and pleasant scent on his body, her heart filled with a huge sense of security and sweetness.

The moonlight moved quietly, enveloping the two embracing. Luxurious black robes intertwined with plain silk nightgowns, their winding trains covering the bed, creating a scene of ultimate luxury and intimacy.

"Husband..." Murong Yan called softly again in the silence.

"I'm here." Lin Zhen responded in a low voice, holding his arms tighter.

"Sing a song for me..." She nuzzled into his arms, her voice filled with sleepiness and coquettishness, "...I want to hear the song from last time..."

Lin Zhen chuckled softly, his chest vibrating. He cleared his throat and, in his deep, husky voice, still uninflected yet magnetic, he softly hummed the simple, even slightly off-key, Jiangnan children's song. The song echoed softly, like the most gentle lullaby in the quiet summer night.

Murong Yan found the most comfortable position in his arms, listening to his discordant but doting humming, feeling the vibration and warmth from his chest, a sweet curve at the corner of her mouth, and her eyelids gradually becoming heavy.

As she hummed, her breathing became even and long, and she finally fell into a deep and sweet sleep.

Lin Zhen noticed the change in the breath of the person in his arms, stopped humming, lowered his head and stared at her peaceful sleeping face for a long time, then placed a light, feather-like kiss on her smooth forehead.

"Good night, my Yan'er." He whispered softly, hugged her, and fell into a peaceful dream together.

Outside the palace, the moonlight shone like water, while inside, the cool night felt like spring. The inky phoenix rested in the warm embrace of its lover, its magnificent garments draped over its body like the gentlest swaddling clothes.