Juxiang and Lanxiang helped him undress. At his command, they removed the three extra candlesticks and trimmed most of the wick of the remaining candle, leaving only a small portion sticking out. Then they lowered the curtain and bowed before retreating.
Her eyes darkened, and Yan Ning could no longer see the words on the book.
Fukang'an lifted a corner of the brocade quilt covering Yan Ning, lay down beside her, and looked at the "Art of War" in her hand.
After they slept together under the same brocade quilt that day, Fukang'an had the other brocade quilt removed from the bed. Now, only two thin nightgowns separated the two of them. Yan Ning felt a warmth on her body, turned around, and met Fukang'an's gaze.
Wearing a white nightgown, Fukang'an's weathered face looked much less aged, and a deep smile curved his lips. "It seems my wife still possesses a spirit that rivals any man!"
Yan Ning closed the book and moved the long, round pillow with mandarin ducks playing in the water, its surface shimmering red. She lay flat, refusing to look at him. "You are not Han Shizhong, and I am not Liang Hongyu. I just want to know, what kind of thoughts are hidden in someone who spends all day reading military books!"
Fukang'an took the book from her hands, placed it on the tatami mat, and pulled her into his arms. "Did you understand it?"
The ancient book was written in a jumbled mess of characters, without any punctuation or separators. Yan Ning had been studying it for several hours, but she couldn't understand a single sentence. She was somewhat annoyed, but she didn't know exactly what was bothering her. Fu Kang'an, on the other hand, had already memorized this unparalleled military treatise.
She had no idea what he was thinking.
Yan Ning wrapped her arms around Fukang'an and rested her head on his chest. "Fukang'an! I have no one to rely on here. You are the only one I can depend on. You must protect me. If we have a child in the future, you must also protect him!"
Her tears soaked his nightgown, and Fukang Anli's hand, which was resting on Yan Ning's hair, paused. She was suspicious after all, but he couldn't soften his heart.
"How could I not even protect my own wife and children!"
Fukang'an frowned deeply. He was speaking to Yan Ning, and also to himself, but he couldn't say it to Wu Chun.
The candle wick was trimmed, burning quietly, its flame neither leaping nor dancing, only brief. Outside the window, the garlands of flowers tinkled urgently, their fluttering sound amplified by the relentless wind and snow.
With Fukang'an's words, Yan Ning quickly drifted off to sleep, while Fukang'an remained awake all night.
The next day, after sending Delin to the training room, the wet nurse went to the Peony Hall.
The servants had just lit the morning lamps, illuminating the snow-covered courtyard.
The old lady was still asleep, leaning against the soft, auspicious pillow on the bed, looking listless and lacking energy. Yesterday's trip to the palace had truly drained most of her vitality.
The candles in the room were burning so brightly that their sharp prongs were showing, and they were blackened by the flames.
The old lady's hair was styled in a simple bun, adorned only with a silver hairpin, giving her a clean and elegant appearance.
She parted her pale lips slightly, "Have you done what I asked you to do?"
The wet nurse knelt not far from the bed and bowed her head, saying, "Yesterday, Madam suddenly mentioned to me that she wanted to wait for Concubine An to return so that she could send her some dried hibiscus. I then told Madam that dried hibiscus is prone to causing miscarriage. Judging from her expression, she must be suspecting that she is pregnant."
The old lady nodded. "Go then, but don't let anyone else know about this! If the general finds out, you know the consequences!"
The wet nurse replied, "Yes, ma'am!" After she left, Li, the wet nurse, went to replace a candlestick, and the room became much brighter. The old lady's worried face became even clearer.
As dawn broke, Fukang'an tried to get up. He tried to help Yan Ning, who was leaning against his chest, away, but Yan Ning's arms around his waist held him tightly.
He could only lie there peacefully, gazing at Yan Ning in his arms. Her jet-black hair was loose, her arched eyebrows and white teeth as serene as the crabapple blossoms in autumn, a tree in full bloom. Her long, curved eyelashes fluttered against his white nightgown, and his heart softened as he gently ran his hand across her alabaster-like face.
Yan Ning shifted slightly, but only tightened her grip on him.
Fukang'an felt a pang of pity. Was it his fault that she was so terrified even in her sleep?
When Yan Ning woke up, it was already dawn, and even the curtains were letting in a soft sunlight.
She looked up and met Fukang'an's gentle eyes; her arms, which had been holding him, were aching slightly. She frowned and pulled her hands back; the long sleeves of her nightgown were soaked with sweat. The gold chrysanthemums at the cuffs seemed to be glistening with water droplets, radiating vitality.
Seeing her sit up, Fukang'an also got up, and a "crack" sound came from his stiff waist. In order not to hurt Yan Ning's arm that was placed under his waist, his waist had been stiff and slightly suspended all night.
He reached out and smoothed Yan Ning's hair, then pulled her into his arms.
"I am your husband, your lifelong support. As long as I am here, you can live in peace! Even if I die on the battlefield one day, I will not leave you alone and helpless!"
Fukang'an's tone was calm but firm. Yan Ning looked up and met his resolute gaze.
The fact that soldiers died on the battlefield sounded so natural coming from Fukang'an's mouth, but to Yan Ning's ears it was like being cut by a curved knife.
Yan Ning stood up defiantly, "If you were to die on the battlefield, I would rather you were a commoner, tending a small plot of fertile land! You could grow old together!"
Fukang'an knew that Yan Ning had said something in anger, but he didn't take it seriously. He got up from the bed behind her.
After Juxiang and Lanxiang helped Fukang'an change into his long robe, he sat to the side watching Yan Ning doing her makeup in front of the mirror, his expression gentle and refined.
As Zhu Xiang helped Yan Ning change her clothes, she noticed that Yan Ning's arms were weak and lacked strength. She murmured, "Madam, could it be that your arms have caught a chill from the dampness? Perhaps we should call a doctor to take a look!"
Yan Ning said awkwardly to Zhu Xiang, "I just slept restlessly last night and it pressed down on my head."
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