Chapter 248: Red silk wrapped around the beams, laughter filled the house

In the warm room of Shufangzhai, a phoenix embroidered with gold thread seemed to come alive under the light, its wings and tail sweeping across the edge of the snow-white fox fur-covered couch, splashing tiny fragments of light. Little Swallow was squatting on the ground, using a silver hairpin to pick at the newly sewn pocket on the hem of her wedding dress. The sharp tip of the hairpin pricked her finger, and she gasped for air with a hiss.

"Why are you so careless?" Yongqi put down the "Wu Jing Zong Yao" in his hand and walked over quickly to hold her finger. Her fingertips were red, and a drop of blood was slowly oozing out. He took out a handkerchief from his sleeve and carefully pressed it against the wound, frowning slightly. "I told you not to pick it with the hairpin, but you didn't listen."

Xiaoyanzi pulled her hand back and put it in her mouth, mumbling incoherently, "This pocket needs to be sewn more discreetly, otherwise how can I hide my dagger?" She looked up and saw the dragon patch embroidered on the front of Yongqi's dark blue prince's uniform, the gold thread gleaming in the light. She suddenly reached out and tugged at his belt, "Your belt is too tight. Doesn't it make it hard for me to breathe?"

Yongqi stumbled as she pulled him, and he sat down beside her, smiling helplessly: "This is the regulation of court dress." He lowered his head and looked at the corner of the handkerchief she was holding in her mouth. It was embroidered with a crooked little swallow. "This handkerchief is well embroidered, but... the wings are crooked."

"No way!" Xiaoyanzi snatched the handkerchief back and pointed at the wings. "That's called spreading your wings and flying high! Do you understand the art?" She suddenly leaned in close, her nose almost touching his chin. "Yongqi, tell me, on our wedding day, if I were to fly down from the Hall of Supreme Harmony wearing this wedding dress, would it startle anyone?"

Yongqi's heart skipped a beat. The scent of jasmine in her hair, mixed with the ambergris from the warm room, enveloped him like a soft cloud. He raised his hand and gently pinched her cheek, his fingertips touching her warm skin. "You always think about these shocking things." The doting in his eyes was so strong that it couldn't be dispelled. "I really want to fly. I'll accompany you."

From outside the window came the excited shout of Little Stool: "Little Mosquito! Look at my sugar painting of 'The Monkey King Makes Trouble in Heaven'. Is it realistic? I guarantee it will please Princess Huanzhu!" Then Little Mosquito responded with a clamor: "Good boy, boom! You've made the monkey's tail into a snake, and you still dare to show it off!"

Xiaoyanzi burst out laughing and nudged Yongqi: "Listen, they're bickering again." She stood up and patted the loose threads on her skirt. "Let's go and take a look!"

Yongqi stood up, his eyes fixed on her coral-red satin jacket, the hems embroidered with clusters of golden crabapple blossoms, which swayed gently with her movements. He suddenly remembered the first time he had seen her at the palace banquet. She had also been wearing this vibrant color, like a leaping flame, instantly captivating his heart.

In the Fang Mansion's study, the fragrance of ink, mingled with the crisp scent of wintersweet, drifted quietly through the air. Xiao Jian sat at his rosewood desk, a wolf-hair brush in hand, writing on rice paper. He wore a moon-white, plain silk gown, his sleeves casually rolled up, revealing his sturdy forearms.

Qing'er walked in, carrying a cup of hot tea. Her pale blue skirt swept across the threshold, stirring up a gentle breeze. She placed the teacup on a corner of the desk and let her eyes fall on the rice paper—the word "peace" was written on it, the brushstrokes vigorous and the ink shades just right.

"Practicing calligraphy?" she asked softly, her fingertips brushing over the twined branches carved on the edge of the desk.

Xiao Jian put down his pen and looked up at her. The morning light filtered through the window lattice, falling on her fair cheeks. The magnolia hairpin on her temples shone with a warm glow. "Well, write a few words and bring them to Ci'er later." He picked up the piece of rice paper and held it up to the light. "She's always so clumsy, but maybe these two words will calm her down a bit."

Qing'er couldn't help but laugh. "Sister Ci'er's personality is such that it can't be pinned down by two words." She walked to the window and looked at the plum blossoms in full bloom in the courtyard. "But she's really lucky to have a brother like you."

Xiao Jian walked over to her and followed her gaze towards the golden sea of ​​flowers. "You too," he whispered, a subtle tenderness in his voice. "From now on, I'll protect you, too."

Qing'er's cheeks instantly flushed, like clouds stained by the setting sun. She lowered her head, looked at her fingers clasped in front of her, and whispered, "I know."

At this time, Fang's mother's voice came from outside the courtyard: "Jian'er! Princess Qing! Come out and take a look. I asked someone to make some lotus cakes. Try them!"

The two smiled at each other and walked out side by side. The sun was shining brightly, reflecting off the snow in the courtyard. Fang's mother stood in the corridor, holding a gilded lacquer tray with a few pieces of snow-white hibiscus cakes, steaming hot.

"Try it now, it's fresh out of the pot." Fang's mother handed the plate to Qing'er, smiling so much that her eyes narrowed into slits. "This is how we make it in Jiangnan. We use freshly ground glutinous rice flour. It's sweet but not greasy."

Qing'er picked up a piece and took a gentle bite. The soft, glutinous pastry melted on her tongue, carrying a faint sweet-scented osmanthus fragrance that warmed her heart. She looked at Fang's mother's loving smile, then at Xiao Jian, who stood beside her with gentle eyes, and suddenly felt that this was the taste of home she had always dreamed of.

The guesthouse's kitchen was thick with smoke and a fragrant aroma. Jinsuo, wearing a navy apron, stood at the stove, spatula in hand, laboriously stirring the braised pork in the pot. Oil splattered on the back of her hand, and she hissed in pain, but she couldn't bear to put the spatula down.

"Let me do it, let me do it!" Liu Qing rushed in from outside and snatched the spatula from her hand, "I told you not to do these things, but you didn't listen. What if you get burned by the oil?" He was wearing a dark blue coarse cloth short jacket with his sleeves rolled up high, revealing his dark and strong arms.

Jinsuo glared at him, but still stepped aside and wiped the grease from the back of her hand with a handkerchief. "I just wanted you to taste my cooking skills." She watched Liu Qing skillfully stir-frying the braised pork. The aroma of meat mixed with the mellow aroma of soy sauce filled the kitchen. "I learned this recipe specifically to nourish you."

Liu Qing turned around and grinned at her, revealing two rows of white teeth. "My Jinsuo is so capable!" He scooped up the braised pork and placed it on a blue and white porcelain plate. "Look at the color, it's so bright red, it must be delicious!"

Jinsuo walked over, picked up a piece with chopsticks, and handed it to his mouth: "Try it?"

Liu Qing opened his mouth and bit into it. The scalding hot meat made him gasp for air, but he couldn't bear to spit it out. "Delicious! So delicious!" he mumbled, looking at Jinsuo with sparkling eyes. "It's even better than what my mother cooks!"

Jinsuo was amused by him. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the red lanterns hanging in the yard. Her heart was beating like a little rabbit. She whispered, "When we get married, I'll make it for you every day."

Liu Qing paused, put down his chopsticks, and looked at her seriously, "Really?" Seeing Jinsuo blushing and nodding, he suddenly pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly, "That's great! Jinsuo, I'm so happy!"

The sudden embrace seemed to dispel the kitchen fumes, leaving only the aroma of braised pork and the rapid beats of their hearts. Outside, sunlight filtered through the carved wooden windows of the guesthouse, casting dappled shadows on the ground like a warm and vivid painting.

As the sun rose higher, the Forbidden City's corner towers shimmered in the sunlight, like glazed glass. In Shufangzhai, Xiaoyanzi, Xiaodengzi, and Xiaowenzi scrambled for a piece of sugar painting, their laughter as clear as silver bells. In the courtyard of the Fang residence, Xiaojian and Qing'er stood side by side under a wintersweet tree, whispering to each other, their gentle laughter occasionally echoing. In the guesthouse's kitchen, Liuqing and Jinsuo busied themselves preparing lunch, the clinking of pots and pans filling the air with the scent of life.

On the official road to Jinan, a carriage carrying Ziwei and Erkang slowly moved forward. The wheels creaked as they rolled over the thinly icy road. Ziwei leaned against the carriage window, watching the scenery pass by, clutching the brocade box containing her mother's remains. Erkang sat beside her, flipping through a collection of poetry and reading to her in a low voice.

The sun shone through the car window, shining on them, warm and cozy. Ziwei raised her head and looked at Erkang's serious profile. Suddenly, she felt that no matter how many storms there were in the future, as long as he was by her side, she would not be afraid of anything.

The air seemed to be filled with a sweet aroma. It was the sweetness of sugar paintings, the sweetness of lotus cakes, the sweetness of braised pork, and even more so, the sweetness of happiness. Good days were truly approaching.