TIPS – Chapter 11

Yang Shi paused for a moment before forcing a slightly nervous smile. She hesitated, then said to her new daughter-in-law, “Um… My son is a little drunk. I’ll help him in so he can lie down for a bit.”

Song Jingwei stepped aside, making space for them.

Yang Shi helped Shen Junxi sit down. Though she had said he was drunk, he was really just lightheaded rather than completely intoxicated. His eyes were still open, though they carried a soft, hazy look.

Raising a hand, Shen Junxi gestured to his mother, signaling that she didn’t need to worry—he was only a little dizzy.

Yang Shi nodded. “Alright then…” She hesitated for a moment before saying, “I’ll leave you two alone now… Don’t forget to drink the jiaobei wine.” Her voice was stiff with awkwardness. After saying that, she quickly slipped out of the room, looking completely uncomfortable.

Before the banquet started, the kitchen had sent a feast to the bridal chamber, setting it on the newly crafted Eight Immortals table.

Shen Junxi lifted his gaze slightly, looking at his newlywed spouse sitting beside him.

Song Jingwei’s face was cold and expressionless. His eyes were clear and sharp, and his lips—pressed tightly together—were a deep shade of red, full and beautifully shaped.

Shen Junxi stood up, walked to the table, and picked up two cups of wine. Slowly, he handed one to his spouse, his eyes fixed on him, unblinking, with a posture that seemed almost afraid of rejection. He waited.

Song Jingwei looked up at him—a young man dressed in the same red wedding robe as himself. For a brief moment, he felt a sense of disorientation. Had he made a mistake by going along with this arrangement? According to his plan, if a child ever came into the picture and he found himself unwilling to leave them behind, he would take them and leave. But at the same time, would this family be willing to let go?

He pondered for a little too long—so long that Shen Junxi’s hopeful gaze began to dim. His lips pressed together stubbornly, and though he had long accepted that he was not someone people liked, being ignored by the person in front of him still made him feel a different kind of sadness.

By the time Song Jingwei came back to his senses, he lifted his hand and accepted the wine cup, assuming the traditional posture for drinking jiaobei wine.

Shen Junxi’s lips slowly curled into a smile. The dullness in his eyes was replaced by joy, and he carefully linked his arm with Song Jingwei’s before bringing the cup to his lips to drink.

Due to Song Jingwei’s improper posture, their foreheads ended up colliding in the process.

“……”

Shen Junxi gazed at him with warmth in his eyes, as if looking at a clumsy yet endearing spouse—one he was willing to indulge in every way.

“……”

Song Jingwei silently finished his cup of wine and mentally assessed the quality—cheap.

In ancient times, the wedding process was fairly simple. After drinking the jiaobei wine, it was time to consummate the marriage. Shen Junxi took the empty cup from Song Jingwei’s hands and placed it back on the table.

It was still early, not yet the end of the shen hour (around 5-7 PM), and faint sunlight still shone outside.

After hesitating for a moment, Shen Junxi gestured to his spouse: Would you like to take a bath? I can take you to the washroom.

Realizing that Song Jingwei couldn’t understand his hand gestures at all, Shen Junxi stiffened, feeling lost. It was like being thrown back to five years ago, when he had first lost his ability to speak and struggled to communicate with others.

“Do you have paper and a brush?” Song Jingwei finally spoke. It was the first thing he had ever said to Shen Junxi.

“Mm! Mm…” Shen Junxi nodded vigorously while making a few simple gestures, letting out a faint sound—the only one he could produce. He had been mute for so many years that he rarely made any noise, to the point where most people forgot he was even capable of sound.

There were still writing materials at home. Ever since he had been forced to stop his studies, the ink and brushes had been left untouched. Ink was expensive—using it meant having less of it. Besides, he never needed writing to communicate with his parents.

Shen Junxi retrieved the long-unused brush, ink, and paper from the cabinet. When he held the brush, he felt strangely hesitant, as if his hand had grown unfamiliar with the motions. What if his handwriting turned out terrible? Wouldn’t that be embarrassing?

But he was overthinking it. Song Jingwei wasn’t here to admire calligraphy—he just needed to read the words.

After glancing at the message, Song Jingwei simply said, “Take me there.”

Shen Junxi nodded, pressed the paper under a weight, glanced back at him, then walked ahead to lead the way.

As they passed through the courtyard, they ran into Yang Shi. The soft-spoken woman looked at them nervously, as if she wanted to ask something but didn’t dare. Instead, she just followed them with eager eyes.

Shen Junxi made a couple of quick gestures to his mother. She immediately nodded and said, “Oh, oh! My daughter-in-law wants to bathe? I’ll go fetch water!”

But before she could leave, Shen Junxi stopped her with a wave of his hand and walked into the kitchen ahead of her.

Yang Shi stood there awkwardly for a moment, then turned to Song Jingwei and said hesitantly, “Well… Daughter-in-law, let me take you to the washroom.”

“Thank you.” Song Jingwei nodded, holding a set of clean clothes in his arms.

“N-no need to thank me. We’re family,” Yang Shi said with a smile, leading the way while frequently glancing back at him. She couldn’t seem to get enough of looking at him. What a rare and handsome young man, she thought.

The Shen family had only four mud-brick rooms, and both the kitchen and the washroom were simple thatched huts.

Song Jingwei took a moment to observe the surroundings, his expression unreadable. Feeling uneasy, Yang Shi quickly explained, “Even though it’s a thatched hut, the straw was replaced just last month in April. There are no bugs.”

“It’s fine,” Song Jingwei said, placing his clothes down. Seeing that Yang Shi was still standing there, he added, “You can leave now.”

Startled by his directness, Yang Shi quickly nodded. “Oh—oh, right! I’ll go!”

At the door, she ran into Shen Junxi, who was carrying buckets of bathwater. She gently reminded him, “Take good care of your spouse.”

Inside, Song Jingwei listened to her words and shook his head slightly. What do Yang Shi and the Shen family take me for? Their cautious and overly respectful attitude was almost amusing, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

Not long after, Shen Junxi filled the wooden bath, adjusting the hot and cold water to the right temperature. Then, he gestured toward different items in the washroom—one spot for soapberries, another where a gourd ladle was placed for rinsing.

“Alright, I understand. You can leave now.” Song Jingwei nodded.

Shen Junxi looked at him for a moment before quietly stepping out of the washroom.

After bathing, Song Jingwei stepped outside, carrying his dirty clothes. He immediately noticed a figure standing near one of the red wooden pillars.

He frowned slightly—had the mute youth been standing here the entire time? What was he even doing?

Before he could question him, a pair of hands reached out and took the clothes from him. Song Jingwei watched as Shen Junxi carried the garments to the well, fetched water, and efficiently washed them. Soon, the clothes were neatly hung out to dry under the moonlit sky.

He’s really practiced at this, Song Jingwei thought to himself.

After Shen Junxi finished hanging the laundry, he noticed his spouse looking at him with a strange expression. Puzzled, he blinked and glanced down at himself… then, shyly pursed his lips. He was still wearing his red wedding robes—after bathing earlier, he hadn’t changed into anything else. After all, it would feel like a waste not to wear his wedding attire on their bridal night.

However, his spouse had already changed out of his. Hesitating, Shen Junxi walked over and pointed toward their room before leading the way back inside.

Song Jingwei lifted his head to look at the moonlight, then turned his gaze to the young man’s retreating figure. Just then, Shen Junxi glanced back at him, his eyes seemingly asking, Why aren’t you coming?

There was a question in his gaze—perhaps even a hint of nervousness and uncertainty.

To Song Jingwei, this was an interesting experience. Strangely, he found interacting with an unguarded ancient person more comfortable than dealing with the complexities of modern society.

Under Shen Junxi’s silent urging, he eventually followed him back to the room.

Inside, there was only one wooden bed, relatively large. Although it was covered with fresh bedding, it still couldn’t compare to modern mattresses or the luxurious beds of the Song residence. Song Jingwei wasn’t particularly picky about comfort, so he had no objections. However, since his dowry contained better bedding, he saw no reason not to use it.

Sitting down on the bed, he said, “You sleep on the inside, I’ll take the outer side. I hope you don’t sleepwalk or snore.”

Shen Junxi chuckled softly and shook his head. He neither snored nor sleepwalked. Walking over to the table, he picked up a brush and ink and wrote a line for Song Jingwei to see:

Are you going to sleep now? Are you hungry?

He had noticed that the food on the table remained untouched, and the only thing Song Jingwei had eaten today was the bowl of noodles from the morning.

“I’m not hungry,” Song Jingwei replied. “I’m going to sleep.”

Seeing him lie down, Shen Junxi put away the brush and paper. Under the candlelight, he slowly removed his outer robe and placed it on the stool by the bed. Dressed only in his inner garments and underclothes, he carefully climbed onto the bed, stepping over Song Jingwei to settle on the inner side.

The bed was only just big enough for two adults to sleep side by side, and since they were sharing a single blanket, it was inevitable that their shoulders, arms, or legs would occasionally touch. When their shoulders brushed together, Song Jingwei’s eyes flickered open briefly, but he said nothing. However, in his mind, he had already started planning to build a new house—with separate bedrooms.

Shen Junxi wasn’t intentionally leaning into the other person’s warmth. In fact, he was somewhat worried that his presence might be unwelcome. But when he sensed no reaction from Song Jingwei, he allowed himself to relax, inhaling the faint scent of the person beside him as he drifted off to sleep.

Although tonight was their bridal night, neither of them brought up the topic of consummation.

Song Jingwei didn’t even consider it—Shen Junxi was a complete stranger to him. If not for that unexpected incident, their lives would never have intersected. Even now, despite being married and living together, Song Jingwei didn’t place much importance on ancient marriage customs. To him, this wedding was merely a temporary arrangement orchestrated by the Song family.As for Shen Junxi—he didn’t not want it, but Song Jingwei’s wishes seemed to take precedence over everything else.