The temperature inside Changqing Garden was neither stuffy and hot like summer nor bone-chillingly cold like winter. It was perfectly moderate, and the temperature inside the room was even more pleasant.
Even so, it was more comfortable to have a thin blanket on. The silk quilt Shen Weimin had gone to great lengths to prepare was, in the end, a little too thick.
He couldn't even blame his uncle-in-law for this one. It was his own fault for not considering that his wife had Changqing Garden to retreat to. He had been single-mindedly focused on the idea that the thicker the quilt, the better.
The mattress underneath, however, had just been custom-made a few days ago. It wouldn't be a problem even if it were thicker. His wife was so thin she was nearly skin and bones; the softer, the better, so it wouldn't feel hard against her.
