The Daily Life of a Depressed Salted Fish Chapter 115

The Ministry of Rites quickly began preparations.

Jiang Wu wasn’t one for ceremony, but in this world, rituals held a significant place. Most importantly, the person he loved found security in such formalities.

Previous empress wedding garments had always been skirts. It wasn’t that Jiang Wu thought Yin Wuzhi would look bad in one; rather, he wanted to honor Yin Wuzhi’s nature.

From what Jiang Wu understood, people only married once in a lifetime, so this wedding was incredibly important to Yin Wuzhi.

Although the Great Empress Dowager had agreed to his audacious request, she forbade Jiang Wu from meeting Yin Wuzhi before the wedding.

Jiang Wu was utterly miserable but had no choice but to endure it, staying cooped up in the imperial study.

The sound of footsteps approached. Qi Hanmiao entered, holding a slip of paper. “Your Majesty, the shizi has sent you a letter.”

Yin Wuzhi rarely wrote anything direct in such letters, but one glance was enough for Jiang Wu to discern a subtle eagerness beneath his reserved tone, as if Yin Wuzhi couldn’t wait for the wedding day to arrive.

Jiang Wu let out a long sigh.

This was shaping up to be the most trying time of his life.

Qi Hanmiao sighed as well. “Your Majesty, why do this yourself?”

“Because of that wedding robe,” Jiang Wu replied, each word spoken with effort due to his exhaustion. “It doesn’t suit Yin Wuzhi.”

“Didn’t the Ministry of Rites already propose several designs?”

“I’m not satisfied.”

Not satisfied, so he took the designs and made revisions himself. Since he had agreed to marry Yin Wuzhi, he felt he had to give it his all—no matter how exhausting—to ensure a perfect wedding.

Meanwhile, Yin Wuzhi had been stuck at home for days, missing Jiang Wu desperately. But entering the imperial palace without permission was a capital offense. As the wedding approached, he could only force himself to remain calm, though he still woke up from dreams laughing every night.

One day, the palace sent over the pattern for his wedding robe. Yin Wuzhi glanced at it briefly and said, “This will do.”

“If the shizi has any dissatisfaction, adjustments can still be made.”

Yin Wuzhi, already anxious, quickly replied, “Satisfied. No changes needed.”

Jiang Wu’s days were packed, leaving no time to think about Yin Wuzhi. For Yin Wuzhi, however, missing Jiang Wu made sleep impossible.

Finally, after endless anticipation, the pattern was finalized, and the robe was ready.

It was the vibrant red Jiang Wu believed Yin Wuzhi would like best, matching the shizi’s ceremonial attire.

The remaining time passed with Jiang Wu catching up on sleep and Yin Wuzhi continuing to pine for him. At last, the wedding day arrived.

A royal wedding differed vastly from commoners’ ceremonies, involving ancestral rites and heaven-worshipping rituals. Thankfully, Jiang Wu omitted as much as he could. Yin Wuzhi dutifully followed every step of the process until he stood on the altar and saw his emperor.

Below the platform were observing officials and countless armored guards.

The emperor wore a golden robe with a dangling imperial crown. Their eyes met as they ascended the steps together, standing side by side on the altar.

The two bowed to each other.

Jiang Wu straightened first, noticing Yin Wuzhi following suit a moment later. Taking his hand, Jiang Wu led him toward the officials, accepting their reverent bows.

Yin Wuzhi had been bowed to before, but standing beside Jiang Wu amidst the sea of familiar and unfamiliar faces, he realized this was the glory he sought.

That lonely, desolate life—no matter how praised—meant nothing to him.

Wherever the emperor was, there lay his golden age.

….Their “golden age” culminated on the imperial bed.

The wedding had thoroughly exhausted Jiang Wu. Gazing at Yin Wuzhi before him, he groaned, “Help me undress.”

Yin Wuzhi, seated on the bed in his crimson robe, brushed his wide sleeve against Jiang Wu’s cheek as he propped him up with one hand.

In his richly colored bridal robe, his already striking face seemed even more radiant. Jiang Wu stared at him and said, “Don’t think looking good today means you can disobey me.”

Yin Wuzhi, gazing at him warmly, responded, “We haven’t had the ceremonial wine yet.”

Jiang Wu replied, “Undress first, then drink.”

“Not possible.” Yin Wuzhi poured wine into a cup and handed it to Jiang Wu, saying, “Here.”

Jiang Wu: “.”

He was so tired even lifting his arm felt like a monumental effort.

“If it were anything else, I’d feed it to you,” Yin Wuzhi coaxed. “Just this one cup, all right?”

After studying him for a moment, Jiang Wu finally raised his weary hand and took the cup. Yin Wuzhi followed suit, their arms entwined as they drank like a pair of lovebirds.

“Lower your shoulder,” Jiang Wu suddenly demanded.

Yin Wuzhi complied, but as they drank, he noticed his shoulder was now damp. Glancing at Jiang Wu’s face and the corner of his lips, he realized half the wine had spilled.

“I drank it,” Jiang Wu declared, trying to reassure him.

Yin Wuzhi stared at him. Jiang Wu, eyes half-closed, added, “Let’s do it again.”

Yin Wuzhi chuckled softly and replied, “No need.”

He picked up a cloth and wiped Jiang Wu’s mouth. Jiang Wu’s shoulders drooped on both sides, his whole demeanor exuding dejection. “I’ll make it up to you later,” Jiang Wu mumbled.

Yin Wuzhi tilted Jiang Wu’s chin up. Beneath the flowing red sleeves, his hands were long and pale, with faint veins visible on the back.

Some of the wine Jiang Wu failed to swallow had soaked into the fabric on Yin Wuzhi’s shoulder, while the rest trickled down his neck and seeped into his collar. The damp stain on the high collar was plainly visible.

Yin Wuzhi’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

Turning his head slightly, his thick lashes lowered, he leaned in and used his lips to clean the remnants of the wine from Jiang Wu’s neck.

Jiang Wu blinked, his chin tilted high, his gaze now fixed on the ceiling above the bed, which conveniently facilitated Yin Wuzhi’s movements.

Suppressing his breath, Yin Wuzhi’s eyes remained locked on Jiang Wu’s collar. “Now,” he said, his voice low, “let me help Your Majesty change out of these clothes.”

They had been apart for far too long. Jiang Wu, after waking up only to fall back asleep, didn’t regain his strength until the morning of the third day.

Yin Wuzhi, holding him helplessly, pinched Jiang Wu’s cheek as soon as he saw him awake. “Feeling clear-headed yet?”

“Mm.”

It wasn’t entirely Jiang Wu’s fault—his stamina was limited, and the chaos of the past days had worn him out. On their wedding night, he was further drained by Yin Wuzhi’s relentless fervor. It was only thanks to Yin Wuzhi’s restraint that his soul didn’t leave his body entirely.

But Yin Wuzhi wasn’t to blame either. They had been apart for so long before the wedding, and Yin Wuzhi’s longing for Jiang Wu had been overwhelming. Coupled with the occasion of their union, his self-control inevitably crumbled.

Jiang Wu’s bleary eyes rested on Yin Wuzhi’s face for a moment before shifting to his collar.

Yin Wuzhi had been wearing red inner robes for days, which complemented his skin tone beautifully. The collar, slightly open, revealed a wide expanse of collarbone.

Even a melancholy person has an aesthetic sense.

Jiang Wu leaned in, his lips brushing against Yin Wuzhi’s collarbone.

Yin Wuzhi immediately pulled him back and frowned. “No nonsense today.”

Although Jiang Wu wasn’t usually one for mischief, Yin Wuzhi helped him sit up and said, “I have to visit my family later; let’s get ready.”

“Sleep more,” Jiang Wu replied.

“You can lie down a bit longer; I’ll do my hair first.”

Yin Wuzhi got out of bed and walked to the bronze mirror. Jiang Wu laid there for a while, then pushed aside the bed curtains to watch him.

After a moment, Jiang Wu sauntered over to Yin Wuzhi’s side. Through the mirror, Yin Wuzhi saw him approach and said, “Shall I do your hair first?”

Just as he was about to rise, Jiang Wu pressed his shoulder down.

Jiang Wu’s hand slid over his shoulder. “On the first day of marriage, I should be the one doing the Empress’s hair.”

“…It’s the third day,” Yin Wuzhi retorted.

Before he finished speaking, his hair was gently tugged.

Yin Wuzhi quickly adjusted his tone. “I misspoke. Yes, it’s still the first day.”

Jiang Wu, satisfied, lifted the comb. Yin Wuzhi’s hair was smooth and sleek, allowing the comb to glide effortlessly. However, his long hair required Jiang Wu to bend slightly at the waist to comb it fully.

After several rounds, Jiang Wu’s pleased expression gradually turned to exhaustion.

Yin Wuzhi noticed and couldn’t help but chuckle softly. He reached back and pulled the Emperor into his arms.

Jiang Wu’s slender waist fit snugly in Yin Wuzhi’s embrace. Over the recent period without Yin Wuzhi’s care, Jiang Wu had grown even thinner. Measuring his waist, Yin Wuzhi murmured, “What would Your Majesty do without me?”

“Die,” Jiang Wu replied matter-of-factly.

Yin Wuzhi froze for a moment, his heart skipping a beat. “Don’t say such things.”

Jiang Wu wasn’t exaggerating—he was merely stating the truth. Without Yin Wuzhi, he might not have survived.

“I feel unwell,” Jiang Wu muttered.

Yin Wuzhi tightened his embrace. “I heard Your Majesty personally designed the pattern on my ceremonial robe. Is it true?”

“Mm.”

“…Thank you, Your Majesty.” Yin Wuzhi closed his eyes.

In moments like these, whenever Jiang Wu did something for him, Yin Wuzhi could deeply feel that he was loved.

Jiang Wu, in his own way, was expressing his love.

“Are you happy?” Jiang Wu asked.

“Mm.”

“Do you really have to visit your family today?”

“It’s customary.” Yin Wuzhi hesitated. “My mother insisted.”

“Oh.”

“If you’re too tired, I can go by myself.”

“If you go alone, Mother will probably claim you’ve fallen out of favor.”

“Let her say what she wants.” Yin Wuzhi paused, his breath catching. “What… what did you just say?”

“Fallen out of favor.”

“No, the way you addressed my mother…” Yin Wuzhi’s heart pounded. “What?”

He stared at Jiang Wu, unable to hide his excitement and disbelief.

Jiang Wu, unbothered, replied matter-of-factly, “We’re married now. What’s yours is mine. Your mother is my mother.”

His clear eyes reflected Yin Wuzhi’s face as though he had said nothing out of the ordinary. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” Yin Wuzhi suddenly kissed him. “Your Majesty is absolutely right.”

Jiang Wu’s lips glistened faintly from the kiss. Instinctively, he commanded, “Wipe it off.”

Yin Wuzhi kissed him again.

“Still wet,” Jiang Wu said.

Yin Wuzhi kissed him once more, louder this time.

“…”

Now it was even wetter.

“If it bothers you so much, lick it off yourself,” Yin Wuzhi teased.

The Emperor, of course, wouldn’t stoop to licking it himself.

He endured.

Sensing his resolve, Yin Wuzhi pulled him close and began peppering his face with kisses.

The residual dampness left Jiang Wu speechless.

Yin Wuzhi couldn’t hold back a laugh.

He raised his sleeve and gently wiped Jiang Wu’s cheek, saying, “Your Majesty, you’re so cute.”

Jiang Wu knew it was a compliment. Without being smug or shy, he calmly replied, “Yin Wuzhi is cute too.”

Yin Wuzhi: “…”

His face turned red again.

“Your Majesty, when you’re complimented, why don’t you ever react?”

“I complimented you too.”

“….” Fine. Giving up on expecting any other reaction, Yin Wuzhi pulled over a stool and placed it in front of himself. Lifting Jiang Wu onto it, he hooked his legs around the stool to pull it closer and began brushing Jiang Wu’s hair. As he worked, he said, “Now that we’re married…”

“Mm.”

“Then,” Yin Wuzhi focused on Jiang Wu’s head, “when will Your Majesty start calling me differently?”

Jiang Wu looked puzzled. “Call you differently?”

“We’re married now,” Yin Wuzhi said, briefly setting the comb aside. “But you still call me Yin Wuzhi.”

“Yin Wuzhi sounds nice.”

“…But we’re married.”

He hoped Jiang Wu might call him Ah-Zhi—a more intimate term. He wondered what it would sound like coming from Jiang Wu’s lips.

Jiang Wu thought for a moment and said, “Empress.”

Yin Wuzhi: “…Just that?”

“Empress” was just a title, nothing personal.

“Empress Yin.”

Yin Wuzhi held back his frustration and finally blurted, “Call me Ah Zhi.”

He always came up with such peculiar requests. Jiang Wu refused. “No.”

“Why not?”

“Just no.”

“…I want to hear it.” Yin Wuzhi had been yearning for this for a long time. Yet not once had Jiang Wu indulged him.

“Yin Wuzhi.”

“…Say AhZhi.”

“No Ah Zhi,” Jiang Wu insisted. “It’s Yin Wuzhi.”

Jiang Wu had an unshakable determination in certain moments, adamantly calling him by his full name. It sounded utterly formal and distant.

The frustration in Yin Wuzhi’s chest condensed. “What’s the harm in saying it just once?”

“Yin Wuzhi,” Jiang Wu repeated. “I like Yin Wuzhi—the whole name. Yin Wuzhi is Yin Wuzhi, always Yin Wuzhi, no matter what.”

Yin Wuzhi: “…”

Why are you so stubborn about this?

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