chapter 3

chapter 3

Fu Zi’en and I were married.

He was twenty; I was fifteen. He was five years older than me.

Yet he was exactly as Lord Fu had described. When it came to intimacy, he knew absolutely nothing.

He looked like an elegant young gentleman, graceful and strikingly handsome. The moment he put his hands on me, however, he became as clumsy as a butcher.

After lifting my veil and sharing the wedding-cup wine with me, he began stripping off my clothes. He tugged and yanked so roughly that it hurt.

I swallowed my anger and stopped him. Following Lord Fu’s warning, I gave my husband his first lesson: how to share a bed with his wife.

Grandmother had taught me that the beginning of a marriage set its foundation. Whatever foundation you laid was the life you would live thereafter.

I could not be careless or lazy with this first lesson. It would determine how he treated me in bed for the rest of our lives.

Not all intimacy was the same. Done well, it deepened affection between husband and wife. Done badly, it bred resentment.

I gathered my courage and caught his hand before he could continue. He looked at me in confusion. “Wife, aren’t we supposed to go to bed?”

“We will. But first, we should talk.”

He still did not understand, so I asked, “Didn’t your father tell you to listen to me from now on?”

At that, he nodded.

“Then listen.”

I explained that we were husband and wife and would often sleep together. But he could not handle me as he just had. I was a delicate young woman; he needed to be gentle.

I guided his hand and demonstrated how he could undress me without hurting me, how to kiss me, and how to touch me in ways that felt good. With each explanation, I demonstrated on him.

To make sure he understood, I used comparison.

I caressed him softly. He shuddered, and I asked, “Does that feel good?”

Blushing, he nodded.

Then I gave his clothes a hard yank. He grimaced in pain.

“Does that feel good?”

He shook his head so fiercely that he looked like a rattle-drum.

“I feel the same way. When you are gentle, I feel good. When you are rough, you hurt me.”

“I understand,” he said. “I want my wife to feel good.”

I smiled. After nearly an hour of patient instruction, I had finally taught him to be the bridegroom I wanted.

When he reached for me again, he followed my lesson and asked, “Wife, may I?”

I nodded.

He held my gaze as he caressed and kissed me, gently easing away my clothes. All the while he repeated, “My wife is so beautiful. I will be good to you all my life.”

I held him too. “My husband is handsome. I will be good to you all my life as well.”

Everything after that went smoothly.

At every step, he asked, “Wife, may I?”

Only when I nodded did he continue.

Our marriage was consummated.

His obedience was not the only pleasant surprise.

Before the wedding, Grandmother had told me that men’s abilities in bed varied widely. Some were capable; some very much were not. A woman, she said, should not expect too much. If her husband could give her children and help provide for them, she should not worry about the rest.

At the time, I assumed she had heard rumors that Fu Zi’en was incapable.

Once we were truly together, I realized the rumors could not have been more wrong.

He was not incapable. He was extraordinarily capable.

If I had not been determined to keep him from forming an appetite for excess, he could have continued until dawn. I was already exhausted, yet he still watched me with bright, eager eyes.

Suppressing my sympathy, I said firmly, “We should sleep. We must not become greedy about this. Too much will shorten both your life and mine.”

He was plainly disappointed, but he agreed.

I added, “No matter how much you want it, you may only do this with your wife. I am your wife, so that means only with me. If you meet another woman, keep far away from her.”

He nodded obediently, then asked, “How far is far?”

After some thought, I explained, “There is an old saying that a husband belongs within one *zhang* of his wife. So only a woman’s husband may come within one *zhang* of her. If you are not her husband, you must stay farther away than that.”

“I understand. You are my wife, and I am your husband. I will come within one *zhang* only of you.”

Delighted, I kissed him.

He immediately kissed me back.

Mine lasted only a moment. He cradled my face and kissed me for a very long time before letting go—though, technically, it was also only one kiss.

I had no words. His reactions might be slow, but he was not stupid. He had only just been taught and already knew how to take a mile when given an inch.

That night, my foolish husband and I passed a very happy wedding night.

Just before sleep claimed me, I thought that this marriage was not nearly as bad as I had imagined.