Chapter 32: Training, Tea, and Terrifying In-Laws

Ming Yu left just before dawn, his warmth still lingering beneath the blankets as the morning air crept in to take his place. He kissed my forehead gently, lips lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"Get more sleep," he whispered. "I'll come greet you later."

Half-asleep, I managed a small smile and kissed him back, barely coherent but filled with a fluttering warmth that spread from my chest to my fingertips.

And then I promptly drifted back into the kind of deep sleep you only get after emotional rollercoasters, high-stakes fake marriages, and… other things I wasn't quite ready to analyze yet.

When I finally woke again, sunlight was streaming in, casting golden lines across the silk sheets and gauzy curtains.

And sitting on the daybed like he owned the place?

Wei Wuxian.

Of course.

He looked perfectly relaxed, casually flipping through a book like this was just any other morning and not the one after his dramatic wedding-slash-cover operation.

As I stirred, he looked up—and grinned. That infuriating, mischievous, I-know-everything grin.

"Well?" Wei Wuxian asked, his tone dripping with fake innocence. "Did you enjoy our wedding night?"

My face ignited.

"Wei Wuxian—shut up," I groaned, dragging a pillow over my head. "What are you even doing in here?"

He chuckled, lounging at the edge of the bed like a smug cat who'd just knocked something off a shelf. "Came in around dawn. Had to sneak past two guards, three nosy maids, and a very suspicious cat—but I made it. You're welcome."

I peeked out from under the pillow, still warm from the memories of the night before. "You have a real talent for turning everything into a public spectacle."

He beamed. "It's part of my charm. Come on, tell me everything."

I sat up slowly, rubbing my eyes and trying very hard not to smile. "Absolutely not. It's none of your business."

"But your face says otherwise," he sang, eyes gleaming with unholy delight. "That dreamy grin? I'd recognize it anywhere."

I tried to glare at him. Really, I did. But I could feel the corners of my mouth tugging upward against my will.

My thoughts drifted—back to Ming Yu. The way his hands had trembled with restraint. The way he had held me like I was something sacred. Like I was real. Like I was his.

I pressed the pillow against my chest to hide the blush creeping back into my face.

Before I could spiral too far into the haze of romantic flashbacks, Wei Wuxian stood and stretched with a theatrical sigh. "Alright, lovebird. Time to get moving. You've got a long day of pretending you're not completely lovestruck."

I groaned into the pillow. "Can't I pretend from bed?"

"You could," he said with a mischievous glint, "but then I'd have to do your hair and you'd end up looking like a windswept scarecrow."

With a dramatic roll of my eyes, I finally sat up, pushing the covers off and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. My robe had loosened slightly from sleep, exposing the curve of my neck.

That's when Wei Wuxian froze mid-step, his eyes narrowing with curiosity.

"Wait—hold still," he said, taking a step closer.

I blinked at him, wary. "Why?"

He pointed triumphantly. "There!"

"What?" I reached for my collar instinctively.

He smirked like he'd just uncovered a national secret. "He left a mark. Just like I told him to."

My heart stopped. "What mark?"

I bolted off the bed, stumbling toward the side room. Wei Wuxian laughed like a man who'd been handed front-row tickets to a scandal.

I slammed the door behind me, heart thudding, and rushed to the mirror.

There it was.

A soft red bloom just below my jaw, where Ming Yu's mouth must've lingered.

My jaw dropped. "Oh my god. He left a kiss mark?! What is this—territorial fox spirit behavior?!"

I stared at my reflection, betrayed by both skin and silence. My hand flew up to cover the mark like I could erase the memory—or at least the evidence.

From outside the door, Wei Wuxian called cheerfully, "Don't worry, it's subtle! Just visible enough for everyone important to notice."

"I hate you."

"You're welcome."

I sighed and rested my head against the doorframe. Leave it to Ming Yu to be gentle, patient, respectful—and still manage to mark me like I was his.

A slow heat crept up my neck and across my cheeks as flashes of the night came rushing back.

The way he kissed me.

The way he touched me.

The way I completely, shamelessly melted.

I muttered at my reflection, "Okay. You need to get it together. You are not allowed to turn into one of those girls who blushes at the memory of being touched."

I flushed harder.

"Oh my god," I whispered, burying my face in my hands. "I am one of those girls."

And I was doomed.

After freshening up, Wei Wuxian and I stepped out together, making our way toward the audience chamber to receive Queen Li Hua's blessing—an expected formality for newlyweds, regardless of how political or fake the wedding may have been.

The scent of incense clung to the air like something ancient and unshakable, curling through the columns and silk-hung arches. Somewhere nearby, palace musicians plucked delicate, melancholic notes from guzheng and flute, making the atmosphere feel reverent… and mildly funereal.

To my surprise, Yufei was already there.

She was wearing an elegant gown of emerald silk, the fabric catching light with every calculated breath she took. She looked like she belonged in a painting—graceful, poised, and absolutely seething.

Queen Li Hua sat above us on the raised platform, her expression carved in stone. Crimson robes shimmered around her like fire, golden dragons embroidered into the fabric catching light as they shifted with her every motion.

And then she saw me.

Her gaze locked on mine—sharp, heavy, and utterly unimpressed.

"You are late," she said coldly, voice clipped and regal.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Wei Wuxian was faster. Of course he was.

"Forgive us, Your Majesty," he said with a bright grin, completely unbothered. "I couldn't keep my hands off her."

Heat exploded across my face like someone had slapped me with a boiling towel.

Queen Li Hua let out a sigh, long-suffering, but there was the faintest softening at the corners of her mouth. Barely. "If that's the case," she said, voice edged with steel beneath the silk, "then I expect you to give me a grandchild soon."

My smile froze.

From the side, Yufei let out a soft scoff, just loud enough to be heard. "Is she even capable of such a duty?" she murmured, her gaze slicing into me like a dagger dipped in honey.

Queen Li Hua didn't even blink. "Being capable in other ways," she said flatly, "does not mean she's fit to bear a royal heir."

Ouch.

Then she turned to Wei Wuxian, her tone shifting into something colder, weightier.

"Perhaps it's time to consider taking Yufei as your second Consort," she said, smooth as a knife unsheathing.

And just like that, anxiety punched me in the stomach.

Wei Wuxian, to his credit, didn't even flinch. "Your suggestion is noted, Your Majesty," he said with an easy bow, voice polite but firm. "However, for now, Mei Lin is my chosen consort."

The Queen's eyes narrowed. "Then ensure your choice does not bring disgrace to our family."

Oof.

We left the grand hall in silence, the weight of Queen Li Hua's expectations trailing behind us like smoke.

A child?

The words echoed over and over in my head.

I hadn't even been in this world long enough to adjust to its customs, let alone plan for a royal heir. Not to mention… this body wasn't even mine. Could I even…?

Halfway down the corridor, the worry became too much.

I stopped and turned to Wei Wuxian, my voice low. "Can I ask you something completely ridiculous?"

He raised an eyebrow, half-smiling. "So..," I said cautiously, "what exactly did the Queen mean about… having a child?"

My voice came out tighter than I meant it to—tinged with a mix of anxiety and mild panic I couldn't quite hide.

He glanced at me, and for once, the mischief in his eyes softened into something gentler. He placed a hand on my shoulder, warm and steady.

"Don't worry about it," he said, calm as ever. "I'm not planning on becoming a king. No throne, no succession, no royal heir needed."

I exhaled, a bit too quickly. "Okay. Good. Great."

But the knot in my stomach didn't completely loosen.

"What if they keep pushing it?" I asked. "The Queen doesn't seem like someone who forgets what she wants."

He chuckled. "She's not. But I've danced around worse. Let me handle her."

"Promise?" I muttered.

He smirked. "On my flute."

I made a face. "That's… not very reassuring."

We walked in silence for a few paces before another thought, equally aggravating, surfaced.

"Did you see how fast Yufei pivoted from being in love with Lan Zhan to auditioning as your next Consort?" I asked, incredulous. "The emotional whiplash could kill someone."

Wei Wuxian's smirk faded into something quieter. "She did love Lan Zhan. Maybe she still does, in some part of her. But love doesn't carry much weight in a palace like this."

He paused, thoughtful. "Yufei's always been ambitious, but I don't think this was the path she wanted. I think she's being pushed—forced to pivot. And if she wants to survive, she needs power. She's just choosing the clearest path to get it."

"Unbelievable," I muttered. "These people treat relationships like palace furniture—just rearrange it when it no longer matches the room."

He snorted. "It is the court life."

"Seriously," I said. "Give me bandages and tea herbs over royal drama any day."

"Funny you say that," he said, his tone shifting. "About the infirmary—if you're sure you want to keep working there, I'll find the way. But we need to start training you, too. Your powers aren't going to sit quietly forever."

I nodded. "I know. I want both. I need both."

"Then we'll tell everyone you've developed a sudden devotion to spiritual practice," he said with a grin. "Afternoon prayers, every day."

"And by 'prayers,' you mean secret goddess training?"

He winked. "Exactly."

I couldn't help but smile, though the weight of what we were balancing still pressed quietly at the edge of my thoughts.

That afternoon, I made my way to the secluded shrine nestled within the palace grounds—the place Wei Wuxian had designated for my training. Normally a quiet space for prayer and reflection, the shrine was now temporarily closed to all but me.

Which made sense, considering the last time I got emotional, I shattered a porcelain cup and nearly sent Ming Yu into cardiac arrest.

As I approached the entrance, I spotted him already waiting—arms folded, posture relaxed, but eyes lighting up the moment he saw me.

"Wei Ying arranged this so we can train without attracting attention," Ming Yu said, pulling me into a warm embrace.

His voice dropped to a whisper near my ear. "I missed you this morning."

I smiled, wrapping my arms around him, letting myself melt into the comfort of his presence. "I missed you too."

He exhaled softly, reluctant to let go, then stepped back. "Alright," he said, more focused now. "Let's begin."

He knelt by a low stone table and gestured for me to sit across from him. "The foundation of cultivation," he began, "is about gathering and refining spiritual energy. It starts within—your core. Your balance. Your control."

I nodded, trying to look serious, like I hadn't just been thinking about kissing him again.

"In high-level cultivation, we look for signs of a golden core," he continued. "But for now, we begin with the basics."

He poured water into a shallow bowl between us. "Your power seems connected to water—and more importantly, to emotion. When we first met, it responded in moments of intensity."

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean the waterfall incident?"

He smiled slightly. "Exactly. What were you thinking when you fell?"

"Honestly?" I shrugged. "I wasn't thinking. Just trying not to die."

"Interesting." He looked thoughtful. "What about… our first kiss?"

Heat bloomed in my cheeks. I tried to play it cool and failed miserably. "Also… not thinking."

"Right," he said, clearly enjoying this more than he should. "And the broken teacup?"

I sighed. "That was definitely anger."

"Then let's try with that. Grab the sides of the bowl. Focus on that feeling. Is there anything you're angry about right now?"

I blinked at him. "You mean this moment, where you're putting me on the spot?"

He laughed. "Fair. But I meant real anger."

I stared at the water. "Honestly… not really. I'm kind of happy at the moment. Which I know is inconvenient for rage-based training."

Ming Yu chuckled again, then offered gently, "Try thinking of someone who frustrates you. Or a moment that made you feel powerless."

Yufei, I thought immediately. But she wasn't strong enough fuel.

I closed my eyes and dug deeper—back to the day we were kidnapped. The way they grabbed Ming Yu. The disgusting things they said. The bruises they left. The sick satisfaction on their faces.

And then… how helpless I felt. How dare they lay a hand on me.

My chest tightened. Breath quickened. My heartbeat pounded in my ears.

Suddenly, my fingertips tingled.

The bowl began to ripple.

It wasn't much—but it wasn't nothing.

The sensation built quickly, almost too quickly. My limbs began to tremble, my vision fuzzed around the edges, and a wave of dizziness hit me like a crashing tide.

"Mei Lin." Ming Yu's voice snapped through the haze. He was already kneeling beside me. "You're pale. That's enough for now."

He handed me a cup of water, and I drank slowly, grounding myself with each swallow.

"You made the water move," he said with a soft smile. "That's a very good sign."

I leaned back against the wall, exhausted but encouraged.

"Great," I muttered. "Step one: emotional meltdown. Step two: puddle."

Ming Yu chuckled. "Don't worry. Eventually, we'll skip the meltdown part."

"Speak for yourself," I mumbled. "I happen to be extremely gifted in emotional meltdowns."

He laughed again, and despite the fatigue weighing down my limbs, I smiled.

This was only the beginning.

But for the first time… I didn't feel powerless.