I am the daughter of the Minister of Personnel, and by imperial decree I am to marry the new top scholar.
On our wedding night, he lifted my veil but made no move to consummate the marriage. Instead, he smiled and poured me a cup of wine to drink with him.
After three cups, my cheeks were flushed, while he sat fully dressed, watching my drunken antics with interest.
That night, he slept on the couch and I took the big bed. We kept to our own sides.
From then on, he treated me wonderfully every day, but never crossed the line.
Curious about his background, I secretly looked into him and discovered that he went to a ruined temple in the outskirts every month on the fifteenth.
That day, I followed him there. I saw him come beneath the moon, his lightness skills peerless, playing chess atop a mountain with a white-haired old man.
Only then did I realize he was no ordinary scholar. He was the secluded disciple of a master from beyond the world, and had entered officialdom merely to amuse himself among ordinary people.
The night he caught me spying, he still smiled as he draped a coat over my shoulders. “Now that you know, my lady, will you keep it a secret for your husband?”
Years later, he held power over the court, and I was fabulously wealthy.
Whenever people asked the secret to our happy marriage, he would only smile and say nothing.
Only I knew that the gentleman who wouldn’t even share a bed with me on our wedding night later insisted on holding me every night before he would fall asleep.
