Chapter 39: Exchanging Nuptial Cups

Xue Dongting hefted the pork and looked it over. It was pork belly streaked with fat. In her previous life she had had all kinds of exotic delicacies, but in the end she decided the that among meat from four-legged beasts, fat-streaked pork belly was among the best. She was a master of food appraisal, she knew all kinds of ways of cooking. She looked at the hunk of pork belly for a moment and got an idea right away.

There was the heavy sound of footsteps outside the cottage in the deepening dusk.

Song Yuming came into the courtyard carrying a wine gourd and several packages of fragrant pastries. He caught a whiff of a heady fragrance and he cocked and eyebrow. “Eh?” he said, finding it odd. He went inside the house to find Xue Dongting squatting with her back to him by the little stove, working on something.

He took off his reed raincoat, smiling. “Taking the stove inside sure saves a lot of trouble. You don’t even have to go out to cook.”

Xue Dongting was busy putting slices of the pork into the bottom of the steel wok on top of the little stove, the slices curling and spitting in the oil and taking on an enticing color to make one’s mouth water. She ignored his teasing, turning over the slices as she said, “I’m kind enough to give you all kinds of good things to eat and you call me lazy.”

Song Yuming laughed and pulled up a stool and sat beside her. He eyed the pork barbecuing in the wok. “Where’d you get that fresh pork?”

“Guang’er’s father brought it over. I couldn’t stop him, I had to accept it.”

“Mm,” he said, as if it didn’t matter. He picked up a pair of chopsticks to grab a slice of the succulent pork. Xue Dongting smacked the back of his hand. “You can’t eat yet!”

Song Yuming jerked his hand back resentfully, laughing. “But it’s so mouth watering.”

She ignored him, focusing on turning over the meat. When it was done she placed the slices on a little plate. Song Yuming put the wine gourd and the pastries on the little table and said in a low voice, “Tonight is the night before New Year’s Eve.”

She nodded. Today was the first holiday they were spending together.

“Is that wine you bought?”

Song Yuming saw her eyeing the wine gourd. He put on a pitiful, pouty face. “We still haven’t exchanged nuptial cups.”

Xue Dongting’s heart quivered. She knew this was an important marriage rite in the capital. Bride and groom drinking from each other’s nuptial cup on their wedding night was a must, it signified a long, harmonious union. But in this little backwater fishing village there weren’t many customs, it was common to forgo exchanging nuptial cups. She had not drank a drop of wine that night. But now that Song Yuming had brought it up, she felt surprised and glad and warm and fuzzy. She lowered her eyes and said softly, “Why be so particular about it?”

Song Yuming beckoned her with his big hand and held his beautiful, tender little wife in his arms, his coarse hands around her waist as he pulled her onto his lap.

He whispered into her ear, “Dongting, I owe you a toast to a hundred years of conjugal bliss.”

She felt his hot breath tickling her ear. She was already melted, glued to her husband’s chest, letting his big hand gently stroke her waist.

He looked at his wife in his arms, her eyes like pools of autumn water, gentle and full, her cheeks flushed like rosy clouds mirrored in a clear pond. She was truly indescribably beautiful. He tightened up his arms, drawing her closer, his other hand no longer playing over her lithe, slim waist, but instead grabbed the wine gourd off the table and popped the wooden cork with his thumb. He threw his head back and took a drink, then leaned in and found the soft moist red lips of the woman in his arms.

“Mm…” Xue Dongting moaned lightly in spite of herself, parting her lips to let the osmanthus wine flow into her mouth.