Dawn had barely broken when the courtyard of Madam Chen’s residence filled with noise and activity – or rather, the bustle had lasted through the night.
“I want to go too, I want to go too!”
The voice of Chen Dan-niang chimed in again and again.
“We are terribly busy. Would you only add to the confusion?” Chen Shao frowned. “Stay home and finish your studies.”
“You will certainly be allowed to attend on the wedding day itself,” the nursemaid coaxed gently.
Madam Chen, having changed her clothes, walked out while speaking with the serving women.
“…We must still choose the ‘Full Fortune Lady’ with great care,” she said.
“That will not be easy,” the stewardess remarked discreetly. “Not everyone is in the same fortunate position as you, Madam.”
After all, all the highranking officials’ wives were well aware that Lady Cheng had now incurred the resentment of the Empress Dowager.
“Not everyone,” Madam Chen replied, “but there are surely still some.”
Here, Chen Dan-niang threw herself forward.
“I want to help too, Mother!” she cried.
Madam Chen, deep in thought and conversation, was abruptly intercepted and nearly stumbled.
Maids quickly gathered to draw Chen Dan-niang aside.
Madam Chen looked at the pitiful girl and smiled.
“Very well, you may go,” she said. “Go and help.”
Chen Dan-niang instantly brightened with joy.
“What help could she possibly offer!” Chen Shao shook his head helplessly.
“She can help bring liveliness,” replied Madam Chen, then added as a thought struck her, “Send word – not just Dan-niang. Let the household’s younger wives bring all the children as well. A joyous occasion should be celebrated with festivity; it needs this very spirit of happiness.”
The maids answered with smiles, “Yes, Madam.”
Just as she was about to leave, word came that Madam Qin had arrived.
After sending the children out to prepare, Madam Chen received Madam Qin in her own sitting room.
“I won’t keep you from going out long – I only have one thing to say,” Madam Qin said, extending her hand.
A maid beside her passed over a list.
“These are my tokens of regard,” Madam Qin explained.
Madam Chen took the list and looked over the fields, properties, and shops recorded on it, her expression growing somewhat complicated.
“I know – she’s the kind of person who never admits she has shown others kindness or affection,” Madam Qin remarked, a note of emotion in her voice. “No matter how great the favor someone has received from her, she always insists on distancing herself from it. What a coward she is… I truly don’t know what she’s so afraid of.”
Madam Chen looked at her and suddenly smiled.
“What is she afraid of?” she repeated, with a meaningful tone.
A shadow of sorrow flickered across Madam Qin’s face.
“In this world, good intentions alone do not always lead to good outcomes,” she said quietly. “Please take it. Let me benefit from your generosity – allow me to borrow your name.”
Madam Chen sighed softly and handed the list back.
“Since you know what kind of person she is, your intention alone is enough. One does not have to meet the person just because one comes with a kind impulse – the impulse itself is sufficient,” she said gently. “Besides, I cannot bear to deceive her, nor can I bear to force her into a choice.”
She took Madam Qin’s hand and patted it.
“Let it be.”
Madam Qin smiled, returning the list to her maid.
“Truthfully, I knew it would be so,” she said, smiling as she bowed slightly. “And yet – I still had to come and say it.”
Madam Chen nodded.
“You should go now,” Madam Qin urged. “Over at her place, that sworn brother and his frail wife who came from out of town must be worried sick already.”
When Madam Chen arrived with her family – her daughters-in-law and children – in tow, the Cheng household was indeed in a state of mild confusion.
Fan Jianglin and Lady Huang had been married before, but their wedding had taken place in the Northwest. She was the daughter of an impoverished accountant, he an illiterate military officer; they had managed to hold a lively ceremony with the help of their savings, but that kind of rustic festivity was hardly a suitable reference for the present occasion.
“Where can we find a ‘Full Fortune Lady’?” asked Lady Huang, dark circles under her eyes, her voice tinged with selfreproach. “I really shouldn’t have hidden behind Sister all this time, leaving everything to her. I hardly know anyone – not to mention others, I barely recognize even a few of your colleagues’ families.”
“It’s all right. I’ll go and invite one,” Fan Jianglin said. “Even if they’re just fellow soldiers’ wives, I don’t think my sister would mind.”
It seemed the only way. Lady Huang nodded. Just as Fan Jianglin was about to head out, Madam Chen arrived. The couple welcomed her with both surprise and delight – but when they saw the several trunks being unloaded from her carriage, they grew somewhat alarmed.
“This is far too generous – we couldn’t possibly accept,” Lady Huang said hastily.
“It’s perfectly acceptable. This has nothing to do with you – it’s what I wish to do myself,” Madam Chen replied, directing her servants to unload the trunks.
Her daughtersinlaw and the children had also stepped down from the carriage, filling the courtyard with cheerful commotion.
Lady Huang called for tea and refreshments, then urged the servants to bring out candied fruits and sweets for the children. In an instant, the Cheng family courtyard grew boisterous with life.
“There’s no need to busy yourself with us. How far along are the wedding preparations? Leave them to me,” Madam Chen said.
Lady Huang was about to demur again, but Fan Jianglin stepped forward and bowed solemnly.
“Then we must trouble you, Madam,” he said.
Madam Chen smiled. Seeing this, Lady Huang hesitated no longer. She turned and gestured politely, leading Madam Chen into the inner room to discuss the arrangements.
“Why is it so lively outside?” asked the maid.
She set down the counting rods in her hand and looked up from the desk, peering through the window.
“Madam Chen has brought her family over,” a young maid hurriedly replied.
With the household shorthanded, the girl was now running back and forth – and so knew what was happening outside.
The maid’s eyes brightened with a smile.
“Miss,” she said, “now the young madam won’t have to worry herself into a mouthful of blisters.”
Cheng Jiaoniang gave a soft laugh and rose to her feet.
“I’ll go and greet them,” she said.
The maid quickly stood up as well.
“But these…” she began, glancing at the papers on the desk.
Cheng Jiaoniang looked over them.
“Send them all back,” she replied.
The maid acknowledged the order with a “Yes,” called for the young maid to follow her mistress, and returned to her own tasks.
Madam Chen had already assigned all the tasks. The maids had gone off to their duties, while Lady Huang kept her company in the hall, sipping tea and chatting about various odds and ends.
“I was planning to visit you once everything was settled,” Madam Chen said.
Cheng Jiaoniang bowed in greeting.
“Since your cousin is here, he will escort you on the wedding day. I’ve also considered several suitable ‘Full Fortune Ladies’ – but I won’t trouble you with the details,” Madam Chen explained to her, then glanced at Lady Huang. “As for… those matters, would you like to speak to her, or shall I teach her myself?”
Those matters…
Though Lady Huang had been married for some time, her cheeks flushed instantly.
Madam Chen chuckled.
“I forgot – you’re still a young bride yourself,” she said. “Let me handle it, then.”
Lady Huang gave an embarrassed smile.
In the courtyard came the cheerful laughter and chatter of children. It was the first time the house had been so full of people, and Xiao Bao, tended by maids and nannies, shouted and giggled with delight. Whether he knew them or not, whether they were older or younger, he ran and played along with them all.
Watching and listening, Lady Huang felt her weary eyes – sleepless through the night – grow damp once more.
At last, there is a touch of celebration in the air.
Outside, it was summer, a stifling day without even a hint of breeze. Yet inside the tightly closed room, the air was not unbearably stuffy.
A eunuch stepped through the doorway and glanced at the ice basins placed in the corners of the room.
“Go, bring in fresh ones,” he said.
A maid looked over and saw that there was still plenty of ice remaining, but she did not dare question him. “Yes,” she replied promptly and hurried out.
The eunuch glanced around, then untied a cloth bundle he had been carrying and strode quickly to the bedside.
“Your Highness?” he called softly, reaching out to lift the bed curtain and peering inside.
On the couch, Duke Jin’an lay looking at him.
The eunuch grinned.
“Your Highness, look at this,” he said, pulling out a garment.
With half the curtain drawn back, light fell across the fabric – a darkred wedding robe that gleamed faintly.
This is…
“Your wedding attire is ready,” the eunuch said with a cheerful smile. “I quietly brought it over for you to see.”
The brightred ceremonial robe, exquisitely embroidered, seemed to shine with an almost piercing radiance.
Duke Jin’an closed his eyes.
The eunuch was about to speak when a maidservant entered from outside.
“Eunuch Jing,” she said, “Master Gu is asking for you.”
The eunuch released the wedding robe, letting it fall onto Duke Jin’an, and dropped the bed curtain back into place.
“What now? I already told him not to bother – let the people from the palace arrange things as they please. They don’t have the means to pull off anything underhanded in our own residence,” he grumbled under his breath as he headed out.
The maids saw him out, then returned to place the ice basins around the room, speaking softly among themselves.
“…Have you seen the bridal chamber?”
“…Isn’t it being set up here?”
“…Master Gu said it won’t be here – it’s in that side courtyard over there. It’s almost finished being decorated, and it looks quite lovely…”
“…How many attendants will the Princess Consort bring with her?”
The Princess Consort…
Duke Jin’an opened his eyes.
The Princess Consort…
He slipped a hand out from beneath the quilt and slowly touched the bright red wedding robe that lay over him.
A wedding robe.
So this is a wedding robe.
Footsteps sounded outside, and the maids’ chatter fell silent.
“Eunuch Jing.”
Duke Jin’an quickly withdrew his hand back under the covers and closed his eyes.
The eunuch lifted the bed curtain, glanced at the seemingly sleeping duke, then folded the robe in a few swift motions, wrapped it up, and withdrew.
The room returned to stillness. With his eyes still closed, Duke Jin’an reached beneath his pillow, felt for an object, and closed his fingers tightly around it in his palm. Gradually, he drifted back into sleep.
Although only a few caretakers and attendants for Zhou Liu-lang remained in the Zhou residence, the place was now bustling with activity.
“Young Master, these are all the documents left by the late master,” the steward said, handing over several papers.
“These are gold and silver jewelry and fabrics selected from the storeroom,” a matron added.
“No need to look them over. Send it all, just send it all,” Zhou Fu said, impatience edging his voice.
The steward and the matron exchanged a glance. With a meaningful look from her, they both bowed and withdrew.
Another flurry of commotion arose in the courtyard: horses were harnessed to carts, trunks and boxes were carried out.
Zhou Fu watched for a moment before turning away. In the courtyard, two maids were playing cat’s cradle with a loop of string. Seeing him return, they hurried forward to attend him.
“Go, go,” Zhou Fu waved them off.
Knowing his temper well, the maids merely smiled and retreated.
Once the room grew quiet, Zhou Fu stood still for a moment as if lost in thought, then suddenly remembered something. He opened a cabinet, leaned all the way in, and dragged out a trunk.
Sitting crosslegged on the floor in the main hall, he stared at the lock on the trunk – then smacked his forehead and sprang up, glancing around in confusion with a frown.
“Where’s the key?” he muttered, rummaging through the desk and shelves.
“Young Master, what are you looking for?” a servant boy asked, peeking in from the doorway.
Zhou Fu jumped and straightened up.
“Get out!” he snapped, glaring.
The boy flinched, stuck out his tongue, and scurried away.
Zhou Fu went to the door and looked up and down the corridor to make sure no one was about before returning. Hands on hips, he frowned and scanned the room – then smacked his forehead again as it dawned on him.
From beneath the couch, he pulled out a small box. Opening it and spotting the key inside, he grinned and clenched his fist in triumph.
When the trunk was unlocked, he saw that the collection of odds and ends inside had grown a little since he last looked – still an assortment of small, miscellaneous items.
Zhou Fu reached in and picked up each item, examining them one by one, a faint smile touching his lips.
“This was a gift for the Shangsi Festival…”
“This one for Dragon Boat Festival…”
“And this… I bought it when I saw it just because…”
He lifted each piece, murmured a few words about it, then set it down again – repeating the ritual for every object in the trunk. Only afterward did he draw a small box from his sleeve and open it.
Inside lay a gold hairpin adorned with eight treasures and a ruyi motif. Rubies glinted along its gleaming shaft, sparkling as Zhou Fu turned it slowly in his hand. He gazed at it for a long while before finally stilling his fingers, placing the pin back into its box, and holding it over the open trunk.
He released his grip.
The box fell inside with a soft click.
“A joyful marriage,” Zhou Fu said slowly.
May your marriage be joyful, Cheng Jiao-niang.
