In the evening, Yao Huang bathed early and changed into a clean set of jacket and skirt. She wore a mosquito-repelling sachet at her waist. Once the sky had completely darkened, she went to the front courtyard to see Prince Hui.
In the northern part of the main hall, though Prince Hui held a Buddhist scripture, he sat in that elm wood wheelchair—clearly he had prepared in advance to accompany the Princess Consort out.
Yao Huang walked behind the wheelchair. Just before pushing it, she suddenly bent down and sniffed near Prince Hui’s neck, smiling. “Knowing we’ll return very late, did you also bathe?”
Zhao Sui’s shoulders and neck stiffened slightly. He very much wanted to remind his Princess Consort that such actions and tone were rather improper.
In the end, Prince Hui said nothing and allowed the Princess Consort to push him outside.
Before leaving, Yao Huang gripped one side of the door panel and poked her head out, looking left and right. She paid special attention to the weeping willow shade on both banks where figures could easily be concealed. Only after confirming there truly wasn’t a single person did Yao Huang return to push the wheelchair.
Zhao Sui looked up at her. “Are you afraid of running into someone?”
Yao Huang whispered, “During the day it doesn’t matter. But if we’re seen going out at night, if they’re close by it’s fine—people know we’re properly married. But I’m afraid if they’re far away and can’t see clearly, they might think unmarried men and women are sneaking out for a secret rendezvous in the middle of the night.”
Zhao Sui lowered his eyes. “Since you know this, why still go out at night?”
Yao Huang laughed and leaned close to his ear. “In storybooks, all the beauties have secret rendezvous with their lovers. If I don’t drag you out for a rendezvous while you’re still fresh to me, I’m afraid there will never be such an opportunity again. Wouldn’t that mean missing out on one of life’s pleasures?”
Prince Hui disliked going out during the day, but could he truly be comfortable being cooped up all day in this unfamiliar new residence?
Since Yao Huang had coaxed him out, she had to find ways to add more enjoyment to Prince Hui’s trip to Spirit Mountain. Fortunately, there was a river in front of the house—the clear water reflecting the bright moon truly counted as a fine view.
This night excursion was a spur-of-the-moment idea for the Prince and Princess Consort, and it wasn’t appropriate to let the team of hidden guards at the inn know. For caution’s sake, Prince Hui only had Zhang Yue and Wang Dong, who lived in the new residence, hide in the shadows and maintain a vigilant distance.
Reaching the street, Yao Huang pushed Prince Hui directly eastward. Afraid the rolling sound of the wheelchair would wake the neighbors who had just gone to bed, Yao Huang walked very, very slowly.
“Last time we came out, you were too busy watching me socialize with others, weren’t you? Take this chance to properly admire this river.”
Zhao Sui also wanted to admire the scenery, but because of her words, he subconsciously paid attention to the various households near and far on both banks. He kept feeling those tightly closed doors might be pushed open from inside at any moment, that women might crane their necks to look in their direction, secretly speculating why the two of them had gone out in the middle of the night.
Prince Hui, who had followed rules and regulations since childhood, had never felt such guilt, even though accompanying the Princess Consort on a night excursion wasn’t improper conduct at all.
Walking along, the two passed the stone bridge at the easternmost end. After passing three households east of the bridge, the terrain ahead suddenly dropped down. The smooth stone-paved road disappeared here, becoming a hard-packed earthen downward slope trampled by several generations. The high stone-built riverbank beside it also became a gentle slope covered with wild grass, extending all the way to the water’s surface.
Yao Huang walked along the riverbank for a stretch. Ahead was a good spot far from any houses. The river channel was wide and the water flow shallow—by moonlight one could even see the pebbles carpeting the riverbed in sheets.
Yao Huang reminded Prince Hui to grip the armrests firmly, pushed the wheelchair down the gentle slope, then bumped along across the narrow pebble-strewn beach and stopped the wheelchair at the water’s edge.
Moving to the side of the wheelchair, Yao Huang bent down and asked Prince Hui’s handsome face carefully, “Did I bump your behind until it hurt?”
Prince Hui didn’t want to respond to such a question.
Yao Huang pointed to the stretch of pebble beach she had deliberately left clear in front of the wheelchair. “Sit here. Let’s sit close together and talk.”
Prince Hui first confirmed the wheelchair’s stability on the pebbles. Then, when the Princess Consort considerately held the wheelchair steady, he lifted his feet from the footrest, braced himself on the wheelchair seat, and lowered his body until he was sitting on the ground leaning against the wheelchair. The pebbles on the riverbank, having been warmed by the sun all day, still retained some heat.
Yao Huang moved the wheelchair aside a bit and sat down next to Prince Hui. Her right hand hugged his left arm, and she leaned her head against him too.
Zhao Sui said, “Zhang Yue and the others are in the shadows.”
Yao Huang turned her head to look around. There wasn’t a single figure visible on the bank or below. Thinking of the respectful caution with which everyone in the Prince’s manor served him, she said with certainty, “Let them be there. Would they really stare fixedly at you and me? They’re definitely all on alert watching the distance.”
Zhao Sui didn’t argue further.
Yao Huang grabbed a small stone and tossed it into the river. It made a “plop” sound.
Zhao Sui looked at the moon in the sky, looked at the water before him, then looked at the Princess Consort beside him who had quieted down. “What are you thinking about?”
The Princess Consort was better suited to daytime bustle than this desolate, secluded place.
Yao Huang replied, “I’m thinking about those things other men and women do when they sneak out for secret rendezvous in the middle of the night. You’re a scholar, Second Master—shouldn’t you compose a poem for me? In storybooks, talented scholars all seem to have to recite a fine poem before the beauty will be captivated by his talent and from then on have love deeply rooted in her heart.”
Zhao Sui remained silent.
He had studied poetry and songs, and had composed a few poems when his father the Emperor required the princes or civil and military officials to write poetry. But a poem suitable for tonight—Zhao Sui’s mind was completely blank for the moment.
Seeing his troubled expression as he genuinely pondered verses, Yao Huang laughed and hugged him. “I don’t want to hear any sour poems at all. Just looking at your face, Second Master, I could watch for an entire night without getting tired of it.”
Zhao Sui looked away.
Yao Huang pretended to be displeased. “You should look at me too! You’re making it seem like tonight’s meeting was just my wishful thinking, that you don’t want to accompany me at all. In storybooks, men only become like this when they’ve transferred their affections to someone else or are about to abandon a woman for fame and profit.”
Zhao Sui asked, “What kind of storybooks are you reading?”
Yao Huang answered, “Stories of talented scholars and beautiful women! Good scholars’ stories tell how they overcome countless difficulties with the woman they admire to marry happily. Bad scholars’ stories tell how they betray their trust and fail the beauty, eventually having their ugly true face exposed—light punishment is dismissal from office, severe is beheading as their just desserts.”
Zhao Sui observed, “A good scholar probably wouldn’t arrange a secret midnight rendezvous with the woman he admires.”
Yao Huang released him and huffed, “Second Master is right. Then let’s hurry back.”
Zhao Sui glanced at the shadows and said, “Very well.”
The river scenery was beautiful, but he still wasn’t accustomed to any intimate behavior with her in public.
Yao Huang fell silent.
Pouting with anger, she pushed the wheelchair behind Prince Hui. After he sat down, she bumped the wheelchair back up to the bank.
Because the Princess Consort walked slowly and they were on the return journey, Prince Hui finally calmed down enough to properly appreciate the night scenery along the way.
Returning to the east courtyard, just as Yao Huang was about to hand the wheelchair over to Fei Quan who came to open the door, she heard Prince Hui say, “Go directly to the back courtyard.”
Having been annoyed the entire way back, Yao Huang only then remembered that tonight was the fifteenth—the day Prince Hui would spend the night with her.
Reaching the east chamber of the back courtyard, Prince Hui pointed to the window. “I’ll admire the moon some more.”
Right now Yao Huang couldn’t stand hearing about moon-gazing. She had scouted out a good spot during the day, then at night pushed him there like a thief, all to accompany Prince Hui moon-gazing by the river. Yet after barely exchanging a few words, he had fussed about returning.