The Prime Minister’s Daughter and the Marquis’s Fool – Chapter 261
by Little PandaExtra 36
Someone, Go to the Wine Cellar and Fetch Those Two Jars of Wine Her Majesty Bestowed.
Three people sat in the room. The two younger ones kept their heads down. Cheng Xi studied them, but found it difficult to begin.
The three sat stiffly for a long while. Zhao Jiayu pressed herself against the door, peering inside, then tilted her ear to listen—but not a sound came from within.
After a moment, Cheng Xi brought out a diagram.
Cheng Xi quietly explained human anatomy to them. Qu Zhimu listened beside her, understanding barely half of it—whatever Cheng Xi said, she simply nodded. When the three emerged from the room, their faces bore varying shades of crimson.
Zhao Jiayu, who had been standing outside without hearing a single sound, hurried over when she saw them emerge. “Finished talking?”
Cheng Xi nodded, then glanced back at the two younger ones. Both kept their heads down, their breaths seeming to burn hot.
Zhao Jiayu glanced at her daughter, taking in her lowered head, then noticed Qiao Jin’s flushed face. She smiled. “You two go rest in your rooms first. Your Mother and your Maternal Aunt still have things to discuss.”
Qu Zhimu raised her head, glanced at Cheng Xi, then at Qiao Jin who was looking at her sideways. Taking Qiao Jin’s hand, she bowed her head in farewell and hurried away.
Zhao Jiayu watched the two youngsters trot off, then smiled helplessly at Cheng Xi. Cheng Xi, after all, had experienced more—she didn’t bother to dodge Zhao Jiayu’s gaze.
Qu Zhimu led Qiao Jin back to the study. Qu Zhimu sat at the desk beside her while Qiao Jin tried to continue writing her policy draft, but her mind was in such turmoil that she couldn’t write a single word.
Qu Zhimu recalled what Cheng Xi had just explained to them. Though her face was no longer flushed, her heart still fluttered with nervousness. In the past, such matters were taught by instructive nannies—but since they were both women, it wouldn’t do to have a nanny teach them.
Qu Zhimu sighed. Qiao Jin looked up at the sound.
Noticing Qiao Jin’s gaze, Qu Zhimu turned to look at her. “Wife, did you understand what my Maternal Aunt said just now?” Qu Zhimu asked softly.
Qiao Jin held her ink brush, recalling what had just been discussed, and unconsciously lowered her head. After a moment, she nodded.
Though Cheng Xi hadn’t been entirely explicit, Qiao Jin generally understood what to do—and about having children as well. She had always assumed that Zhao Ningying and Qu Ning weren’t biologically related to either of their two mothers, but now it seemed that wasn’t the case.
At this moment, her heart still reeled from the revelation.
The prescription for regulating women’s bodies was locked away in the palace, but Cheng Xi had been one of the physicians involved in developing it. And the Zhu family’s child had been conceived the same way.
Seeing Qiao Jin nod, Qu Zhimu’s eyes lit up. She rose and walked to Qiao Jin’s side. “You truly understand?”
Qiao Jin looked up at Qu Zhimu and nodded again.
Qu Zhimu suppressed the shy smile tugging at her lips and whispered, “Then let’s try tonight.”
This time, Qiao Jin didn’t respond. Her gaze toward Qu Zhimu held a trace of trepidation.
After nightfall, Qiao Jin was still in the study. Qu Zhimu went to bathe, and when she emerged and entered the bedchamber without finding Qiao Jin, she draped a thin cloak over herself and knocked on the study door.
“Wife, are you still not resting today?” Qu Zhimu whispered from outside.
Hearing this, Qiao Jin set down her ink brush and hurried to open the study door.
“I’ll rest now. Have you finished bathing?” Qiao Jin said, opening the door and stepping aside.
Qu Zhimu entered the study with a soft “Mm” and said, “I had someone prepare hot water for you, and your change of clothes is already set out. You can go straight over, Wife.”
Qiao Jin nodded. “All right.” She moved to tidy up the room, but Qu Zhimu stopped her. “I’ll clean up. Go quickly.”
Qiao Jin hesitated for a moment, then nodded.
Watching Qiao Jin leave the room, Qu Zhimu pressed her lips together, smiling shyly, and went to organize the things on the desk.
After tidying up, Qu Zhimu extinguished the lamp and returned to the bedchamber.
Qiao Jin finished bathing and, seeing the study lamp was dark, went directly back to the bedchamber.
Qu Zhimu had already climbed into bed. The weather in the second month was no longer as cold as before, and with the brazier burning in the room, she lay under a thin quilt, eagerly anticipating Qiao Jin’s return.
Seeing Qiao Jin enter, Qu Zhimu sat up and made small talk. “Finished bathing?”
Qiao Jin glanced over with a soft “Mm,” her steps toward the bed slowing.
“Then come rest quickly.” Qu Zhimu shifted inward to make room.
Qiao Jin nodded, walked forward, and sat on the edge of the bed, removing her shoes. Qu Zhimu sat inside, turned sideways, watching Qiao Jin’s slender back, her gaze tracing downward.
Though the sleepwear was loose, it couldn’t hide Qiao Jin’s graceful figure. Qu Zhimu glanced down at herself—her martial-arts-trained body was firm and solid, not inferior either.
When Qu Zhimu looked up again, Qiao Jin had climbed onto the bed. Facing each other, both felt a touch of shyness. Last night, since neither had known what to do, they had simply lain flat and chatted for a while—but tonight was different.
“Sh-should we… start?” Qu Zhimu stuttered.
Neither had ever experienced such intimacy before. Facing this act with its starkly clear purpose, both felt somewhat unnatural.
But Qu Zhimu’s anticipation overcame her shyness. She looked up at Qiao Jin, her eyes filled with hope.
Qiao Jin said nothing. She looked into Qu Zhimu’s captivating eyes, pressed her soft lips together, hesitated for a moment, then leaned closer and placed her hand on Qu Zhimu’s waist.
The soft sash needed only a gentle tug before it fell away. Qu Zhimu felt the loosening at her waist and looked down—Qiao Jin’s slender fingers had already slipped inside.
Cool palms gently caressed her waist. Qu Zhimu’s body twitched at the ticklish sensation, and just as she arched slightly, Qiao Jin pressed her lips to hers.
Qiao Jin kissed Qu Zhimu with unpracticed tenderness, her fingers beginning the movements she had only half-understood from today’s lesson.
Qu Zhimu endured Qiao Jin’s lingering kisses, the delicate tingling across her body making her breath come faster. She reached up to gently push Qiao Jin away—but halfway through, she gave up.
If she pushed her away, wouldn’t that discourage Qiao Jin’s initiative?
Fortunately, after kissing for a while, Qiao Jin’s lips traveled downward. Warm, moist lips and tongue wandered along Qu Zhimu’s neck. Qu Zhimu drew deep breaths, slowly surrendering herself to this most exquisite of earthly pleasures.
Though the technique was unpracticed, it didn’t cause Qu Zhimu much discomfort. Afterward, Qiao Jin held Qu Zhimu in her arms, kissing the woman who belonged to her—the love between them seemed to have grown even deeper than yesterday.
Qu Zhimu looked up at Qiao Jin, gazing at the elegant curve of her jaw, and lifted her head to press a kiss there.
Qiao Jin looked down at her, and seeing how adorable she was, leaned in, captured her soft lips, and kissed her again with insatiable tenderness.
Early the next morning, Zhao Jiayu heard from the nanny who made their bed that the young couple had called for water1 twice during the night. When the nanny went in to change the bedsheets and saw both of them too shy to speak, she knew the bridal chamber and festive candles2 had finally been fulfilled.
Zhao Jiayu was in high spirits today. She had the kitchen add several more dishes, and during the meal, she kept trying to probe obliquely. Qu Zhimu pretended not to understand—aside from serving food to Qiao Jin, she just shoveled rice into her mouth, responding to Zhao Jiayu’s questions with nothing but “Mm” or “Ah,” nearly driving Zhao Jiayu mad with frustration.
Once Qiao Jin went to the study, Zhao Jiayu pulled her daughter away. In another room, Zhao Jiayu poured her daughter a cup of tea and asked with a smile, “Mother heard the nanny say you called for water twice last night. Did you succeed?”
Qu Zhimu sipped her tea and gave a vague “Mm.”
Zhao Jiayu clasped her hands excitedly and pressed on. “When do you plan to have a child?”
“Mother, Jin’er and I just got married. Why are you always thinking about children? Little Aunt still wants to make good use of Jin’er.”
“Then have one.”
“I, I…” Qu Zhimu couldn’t get the words out. She couldn’t exactly say she was the one on the bottom.
Zhao Jiayu watched her daughter stammer and seemed to figure it out. She stared at Qu Zhimu for a moment, then asked, “Last night—all that water was for you?”
Qu Zhimu darted a quick glance at Zhao Jiayu, then nodded after a moment.
Zhao Jiayu clicked her tongue, stood up, and walked right out.
At dinner, Qu Zhimu discovered that all her favorite dishes were gone—replaced entirely by the dishes she had previously instructed the kitchen to make for Qiao Jin.
Over the next few days, Qiao Jin seemed to notice the issue as well, initially assuming the kitchen was rotating the menu. But recently, she realized that the dishes Qu Zhimu had said she loved hadn’t appeared at all.
That evening, after noticing Qu Zhimu’s poor appetite, Qiao Jin personally went to the kitchen and cooked several small dishes for her.
While Qiao Jin wrote her policy draft in the study, Qu Zhimu sat there eating with a glistening face, smiling between bites. “I didn’t know my Wife had such good culinary skills. I really found a treasure.”
Qiao Jin glanced over, saw Qu Zhimu eating contentedly, walked over, took out a handkerchief, and wiped the oil from her lips. “Eat slowly.”
Qu Zhimu nodded. “Go back to your work. Don’t mind me—don’t let me delay you.”
Qiao Jin curved her lips, released the handkerchief Qu Zhimu had been holding, and went back to her work.
Late at night, Qu Zhimu waited in the bedchamber, craning her neck toward the door. She had already sent someone to tell Qiao Jin to rest early—she didn’t know if Qiao Jin had listened.
Qu Zhimu waited a while longer. Just as she was about to go to the washroom to check, Qiao Jin returned.
Pushing the door open, Qiao Jin saw Qu Zhimu standing by the door and asked, “Are you going out?”
Qu Zhimu shook her head. “Not going out. I just wanted to see when you’d come back.”
Qiao Jin nodded, removed her thin cloak, and said, “I’ve kept you waiting.”
Hearing Qiao Jin’s gentle words, Qu Zhimu reached out to take the cloak from her hands. They walked further inside, and Qu Zhimu hung Qiao Jin’s cloak on the wooden rack in the inner room. As she turned around, Qiao Jin pulled her into an embrace.
They held each other close, but within moments, Qu Zhimu noticed Qiao Jin’s breathing growing more rapid.
“Wife…” Qu Zhimu called softly.
Qiao Jin drew back slightly. Their eyes met for just a moment, and in that instant, Qiao Jin’s eyes held only her. “Wife…”
Both called her “Wife,” but the meaning behind those two utterances was entirely different.
The moment the words fell, Qiao Jin kissed her with urgent longing. All those years of the “propriety” taught in the classical texts vanished from Qiao Jin’s heart in that instant.
Their lips entangled in a kiss. Qu Zhimu found herself on the receiving end—in just a few days, the one who had most craved Qiao Jin was now the one being craved.
Qiao Jin, who had been completely unpracticed before, now touched Qu Zhimu in ways she loved. Just the lightest brush of fingertips made Qu Zhimu’s heart itch with desire.
When Qiao Jin pressed Qu Zhimu down onto the bed, the words Qu Zhimu had been hesitating to say were forced to a halt. Why Zhao Jiayu had been targeting Qu Zhimu these past few days—she cast that thought aside entirely.
Inch by inch, her skin beneath the covers was overtaken. Qu Zhimu had no chance of resistance.
After a night of indulgence, Qu Zhimu was once again “targeted” by Zhao Jiayu the next day—but by evening, she could enjoy even more delicious food.
Qiao Jin found time to cook special meals for her, and within days, Qu Zhimu had grown noticeably plumper.
Zhao Jiayu watched her daughter eating less at every meal yet growing plumper by the day, and grew suspicious. One evening, she decided to go check—but before she even entered the courtyard, she saw a maid carrying a food box approaching.
The maid knocked on the door. Qu Zhimu, who was eating the delicious meal Qiao Jin had personally cooked, hurriedly stood up to answer—but when the door opened, she came face to face with Zhao Jiayu.
Qu Zhimu startled, taking half a step back before recovering. In a low voice, she said, “Mother, why are you here?”
The maid stood to the side with the food box, not daring to speak. Zhao Jiayu looked around. Hearing “Mother,” Qiao Jin set down her ink brush and went to the door, bowing. “Mother.”
Qu Zhimu still had food in her mouth. She slowly and surreptitiously chewed and swallowed it.
Zhao Jiayu nodded, eyeing the food box the maid carried. “What’s in there?”
“In reply to Your Highness, it’s freshly simmered Crucian Carp and Tofu Soup3,” the maid replied with head bowed.
Qiao Jin and Qu Zhimu exchanged a glance. After spending these days together, Qiao Jin had a good sense of Zhao Jiayu’s temperament.
Though they said nothing, they weren’t afraid of any severe punishment.
“Mm, bring it in.” Zhao Jiayu nodded and stepped aside.
Qiao Jin and Qu Zhimu also stepped aside. The maid entered the room, and Zhao Jiayu followed.
Zhao Jiayu looked at the table full of dishes. A mouthwatering aroma wafted over, stirring her appetite.
Qu Zhimu could tell Zhao Jiayu wanted to eat. She offered a way out, smiling quickly. “Mother, why don’t you try some too? My Wife spent a long time making this.”
Zhao Jiayu had assumed the food was bought from outside. Hearing that Qiao Jin had made it herself, she asked in surprise, “Jin’er made all of this?”
“Guaranteed authentic.” Qu Zhimu eagerly served Zhao Jiayu a bowl, as if currying favor.
Zhao Jiayu looked at the soup offered to her—the fragrant aroma hit her nose, and it was still piping hot, having been brought in the food box.
“Mother, please try some,” Qiao Jin added with a smile.
With both young women urging her in turn and the soup right in front of her, it would have been unreasonable to refuse.
Zhao Jiayu reached out and took it. Scooping up the milky-white broth, she took one sip—and didn’t stop.
In no time, the soup, tofu, and fish had all been devoured.
“I noticed Mother didn’t eat much this afternoon. Why don’t you sit down and have some more with Mu’er?”
After Qiao Jin spoke, Qu Zhimu moved a chair over. “Mother, sit.”
Unable to refuse, Zhao Jiayu sat down. Qu Zhimu also brought a chair for Qiao Jin, and the two of them kept Zhao Jiayu company as they ate.
Zhao Jiayu praised the food between bites. “With flavors like this, our whole family could open a restaurant.”
Qu Zhimu laughed. “Of course! My Wife started learning from chefs when she was ten. They recruited seven or eight chefs from all over.”
Hearing this, Zhao Jiayu looked at Qiao Jin with newfound respect. But she was curious why the Qiao family had let her learn culinary skills.
A moment later, she understood. Back then, when Lin Xizhao learned to dance, wasn’t it also to marry well and win her spouse’s family’s favor? She supposed Qiao Jin was much the same.
Zhao Jiayu felt a moment of gratitude that she came from a military family. If she’d been made to learn all those miscellaneous arts, she would have thrown a fit—getting beaten would probably have been a regular occurrence.
“Ah, without wine, we’d be wasting Jin’er’s culinary skills.” Zhao Jiayu called toward the door, “Someone go to the wine cellar and fetch those two jars of wine Her Majesty bestowed.”
“Mother.” Qu Zhimu now regretted letting Zhao Jiayu stay.
Seeing her daughter’s displeased expression, Zhao Jiayu quickly smiled. “Just a little. Just a little.”
Zhao Jiayu looked at Qiao Jin. “Can Jin’er drink?”
Hearing her mother-in-law’s childlike nature, Qiao Jin smiled and replied, “A little.”
“Then let’s have a few cups together, the two of us.”
The wine was brought out. Qu Zhimu sat to the side eating, watching Qiao Jin match Zhao Jiayu cup for cup. She wanted to stop them but couldn’t bring herself to spoil Zhao Jiayu’s face.
She could only watch as the dishes on the table gradually disappeared and the wine jar was emptied, then quickly had someone help Zhao Jiayu away.
Zhao Jiayu had built up her alcohol tolerance over the years, but Qu Zhimu discovered that Qiao Jin could hold her liquor quite well too. After Zhao Jiayu left, Qu Zhimu carried the somewhat tipsy Qiao Jin back to the bedchamber, settled her in carefully, and had someone bring Hangover Soup4.
She fed Qiao Jin the Hangover Soup spoon by spoon. Qiao Jin looked at Qu Zhimu sitting by the bed—she had ideas in her heart, but her movements were sluggish and her strength failed her.
She raised her hand to caress Qu Zhimu’s soft, smooth cheek. The more Qiao Jin interacted with Qu Zhimu’s sincere and straightforward nature, the more she liked her—especially the intoxicating sensations of the night, which had opened a new door for her and made her truly understand the ancient saying, To die beneath the peony blossoms, even a ghost would be romantic5.
After tidying up, Qu Zhimu climbed onto the bed and naturally lay in Qiao Jin’s arms.
Nestled against Qiao Jin, Qu Zhimu looked up at that beautiful face, lifted her chin slightly, and kissed Qiao Jin’s soft lips.
She thought it would be just a fleeting kiss, but somehow it became impossible to pull away.
After the kiss, Qiao Jin gazed at her wife, willing but unable—she knew Qu Zhimu was seeking pleasure, but she had drunk far too much today. Even her fingertips felt weak. How could she satisfy her?
“Mu’er, I’m afraid I’ll have to shortchange you tonight.” Qiao Jin looked at Qu Zhimu’s desire-filled eyes and apologized softly.
Qu Zhimu looked at Qiao Jin’s gentle features, softened by the mellow wine, and slowly raised herself. Her lips curved into a slight smile as she spoke in a low, somewhat mischievous tone. “No need to shortchange me. We can try a different approach.”
The brilliant lamplight in the room was extinguished, and soft murmurs began to rise behind the bed curtains.
Since she stopped organizing medical texts, Cheng Xi had much more free time, but she hadn’t gone to the Medicine Hall to see patients. Today at midday, she had planned to return to the residence for lunch, but thinking of Xiao Bingying who was seeing patients at the Medicine Hall, she had the carriage driver take her there instead.
The Zhao Residence carriage stopped, and Cheng Xi alighted and entered the Medicine Hall.
Seeing the proprietor arrive, the shopkeeper hurried forward to bow and led her inside.
Cheng Xi entered the inner hall and immediately saw Xiao Bingying taking someone’s pulse.
The shopkeeper was about to call Xiao Bingying, but Cheng Xi raised her hand to stop him. She went upstairs to wait.
It had been a long time since she’d last visited. The rest room was spotlessly clean. Cheng Xi found a chair and sat down, glancing around. She noticed Xiao Bingying’s outer robe on the daybed and looked at it a few times.
The weather was getting hotter. Xiao Bingying wasn’t particularly sensitive to cold, but that morning, after Cheng Xi had urged her repeatedly, she had put on an extra layer.
Cheng Xi didn’t mind that Xiao Bingying had taken off her outer robe—what caught her attention was what was hidden beneath it.
Cheng Xi rose and walked over, pulling out the object whose corner peeked out from under the outer robe.
Cheng Xi looked down at her own notebook6. It had been nearly two months, and Xiao Bingying still hadn’t finished reading it—and she was carrying it everywhere with her.
Cheng Xi smiled helplessly and flipped through it casually—only to discover the portrait of Xiao Bingying she had drawn years ago.
And the annotation beside it: “Lovesickness7.”
At that moment, Cheng Xi understood why Xiao Bingying had been reluctant to take the newly organized notebook—it was because she cared about this portrait and the name Cheng Xi had given it.
Recalling how Xiao Bingying had carried it around like a treasure, Cheng Xi’s lips curved upward. She had someone bring brush and ink, and added a new line of annotation beside it.
Cheng Xi blew on the ink to dry it, set the notebook aside, and waited with satisfaction for Xiao Bingying to come up. But after several ke, when the food had already been delivered, there was still no sign of her.
Cheng Xi went downstairs. By now, the resident doctors had all gone to eat, and Xiao Bingying was nowhere to be seen.
Cheng Xi called the shopkeeper over. He had been in the back and hadn’t noticed where Xiao Bingying had gone.
The shopkeeper called over the assistant from the outer hall who dispensed medicine and asked, “Do you know where the Madam went?”
The medicine assistant replied, “Miss Shen came to pick up medicine earlier and said she was taking the Madam out for a bit, and they’d be back soon.”
“Miss Shen? Which Miss Shen?” Cheng Xi asked, puzzled.
Cheng Xi didn’t know, but the shopkeeper did. He smiled and said, “It’s the Miss Shen that the Madam treated on a house call before. She comes every few days to pick up medicine, and whenever the Madam is seeing patients, she invites her out to chat. She should be back soon. Perhaps the Proprietor could go upstairs for lunch and wait while eating.”
With the shopkeeper’s reminder, Cheng Xi seemed to recall as well. Xiao Bingying had indeed made a house call—she remembered that the patient’s mother had experienced bleeding midway through, and they’d called Xiao Bingying over again, and at the time had invited her and Zhao Jiayu to stay for a meal.
Cheng Xi lowered her gaze for a moment, then went upstairs.
But even after Cheng Xi finished her meal, Xiao Bingying still hadn’t returned. With matters to attend to at the residence, Cheng Xi had to leave first.
Xiao Bingying returned after eating out. When she went upstairs, she noticed someone had been in the room. She saw the notebook pressed down with a paperweight—beside the word “Lovesickness,” a new line had been added: The one called Bingying can cure it8.
Seeing the same handwriting as the old ink, Xiao Bingying had no doubt it was Cheng Xi’s doing. Looking at the words on the page, she broke into a foolish smile.
Xiao Bingying went downstairs and asked the shopkeeper, who confirmed that Cheng Xi had indeed come at midday and left after having lunch.
Xiao Bingying now regretted going out to eat with Shen Lin—she had missed the chance to share a meal with her wife.
Later, after seeing her last patient, Xiao Bingying hurried back to the residence.
Cheng Xi had been back for a while and was keeping her daughter company as she read. Zhao Ningying was still serving as a study companion in the palace—today, Cheng Xi had gone to the palace gates to pick her up.
Xiao Bingying carried the notebook in her robes, her heart brimming with joy, but with her daughter present, she couldn’t very well take it out.
Hearing footsteps, Cheng Xi looked up, her lips curving slightly with a faint smile. “You’re back.”
“Mother.” Zhao Ningying, who was reading, looked up and called out to Xiao Bingying with a smile.
Xiao Bingying nodded in acknowledgment, then looked at Cheng Xi. “Wife, why didn’t you tell me you were coming to the Medicine Hall today?”
Cheng Xi lowered her gaze for a moment, then raised her eyes and replied, “It was a spur-of-the-moment decision today. I saw you were seeing a patient, so I didn’t disturb you.”
Xiao Bingying nodded. “Oh, Miss Shen came by unexpectedly at midday. I didn’t know you were here, so I went out with—”
“Mm, I heard. Go wash your face and eat. Father made your favorite dishes today.”
Before Xiao Bingying could finish, Cheng Xi cut her off and stood up, saying to Zhao Ningying, “You go too.”
Zhao Ningying stood up and walked over to Xiao Bingying, smiling. “Mother, let’s go together.”
Xiao Bingying’s hand was taken by Zhao Ningying. She watched Cheng Xi lowering her head to organize the books, and suddenly felt that Cheng Xi seemed different today.
After dinner, Cheng Xi went to bathe, and Xiao Bingying followed. Xiao Bingying had thought Cheng Xi was angry and didn’t want to talk to her, but when she brought it up, Cheng Xi had agreed.
Xiao Bingying sat in the bath barrel and scrubbed Cheng Xi’s smooth, jade-like back. Throughout, Cheng Xi was entirely accommodating toward Xiao Bingying—not at all like someone who was angry.
Back in their room, the two sat down. Cheng Xi went to pour tea, watching as Xiao Bingying carefully tucked away the notebook on the table, her gaze following Xiao Bingying the entire time.
Cheng Xi didn’t know what was wrong with herself. Perhaps it was because of what she had asked Xiao Bingying that night when she was drunk.
Xiao Bingying had resented her once, and because of those words, Cheng Xi had lost some confidence.
The author has something to say:
Zhao Jiayu: “Alright, let’s skip the bridal chamber chapter for my daughter. Not suitable for children. Everyone, shoo, shoo.”
Qu Zhimu: “…”
Leave comments for red envelopes!
Footnotes
- A euphemism for requesting warm water for washing after marital intimacy, indicating consummation.
- A Chinese idiom referring to the consummation of marriage on the wedding night.
- A nourishing Chinese soup made with crucian carp fish and tofu.
- A traditional soup prepared to alleviate the effects of alcohol consumption.
- A classical Chinese idiom expressing that dying in the pursuit of romantic love is a worthy and romantic fate; peony blossoms metaphorically represent beautiful women.
- Cheng Xi's personal medical notebook containing her compiled research and notes, including a portrait of Xiao Bingying with annotations.
- Literally 'lovesickness'; a label Cheng Xi wrote beside her portrait of Xiao Bingying, acknowledging her own romantic longing.
- Cheng Xi's annotation beside the 'Lovesickness' label on her portrait of Xiao Bingying, meaning 'the one called Bingying can cure it'—a poetic declaration that Xiao Bingying is the remedy for her lovesickness.
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