Three days passed in the blink of an eye. In the flash of an eye, it was the wedding day.
Tayuan’s open customs were on full display in their marriage rites. Even royal children still followed traditional customs tied to nature: in the morning, the bride and groom paid respects to their parents; then they swore a blood oath at the altar; and finally, the day concluded with a bonfire feast.
At dawn, maids from the First Consort’s quarters came to wake Feng Lezhen. After applying makeup to her face, they dressed her in a sharp red outfit.
“The Prince Consort is truly beautiful. Tayuan’s clothes suit you so well,” one maid complimented smugly.
Now that Feizhan no longer had a chance at the throne, he was no longer a rival to the eldest prince. So when the maids came over, the First Consort had specifically instructed them to show respect and to hold back from saying anything inappropriate.
Feng Lezhen, hearing the compliment, replied indifferently, “I look better in Great Qian’s clothes.”
“This…”
The maid was just getting flustered when a hearty laugh sounded from outside. “It suits you, it suits you! Whatever you wear looks good.”
As the voice spoke, a woman in her fifties entered the room.
“Greetings to the Third Prince Consort.” The older woman gave a deep curtsey in the Great Qian style, then smiled and said, “This old servant was sent by the Second Consort to help with your hair. I heard that in Great Qian, there’s a tradition of combing a bride’s hair before she leaves the house. The Second Consort couldn’t come herself, so she sent me instead. I hope you won’t take offense.”
Her tone was extremely humble. Feng Lezhen eased her expression. “Thank you.”
The maid from the First Consort’s side nearly rolled her eyes, then gave a snort as she presented a pair of earrings. “This is a gift from the First Consort. You’ll wear them for the wedding today.”
“These pearls are certainly beautiful, but wearing them today may not be appropriate,” the older woman interjected before Feng Lezhen could speak, frowning.
The maid scowled. “What’s inappropriate? These are the very ones the First Consort wore when she married His Majesty. Even her own daughter, the Fourth Princess, asked for them at her wedding, and the First Consort refused to give them. Are you saying they’re unworthy of the Third Prince Consort?”
She deliberately brought up how the First Consort had worn them and how even a pure-blooded Tayuan princess had wanted them, implying that Feng Lezhen, as the wife of a half-blood prince, was not worthy. It was a public challenge. If the older woman’s explanation failed to convince, she might get a beating.
The room, previously bustling, fell completely silent.
Tension filled the air, but Feng Lezhen remained calm, not reacting at all.
After a moment, the older woman chuckled warmly. “The First Consort’s things are certainly of the highest quality. But it seems the Third Prince Consort’s earlobe is injured. If she wears these fine pearl earrings now, it might worsen the wound. The First Consort is kind-hearted—how could she bear to let her junior suffer? If you don’t believe me, you’re welcome to ask her yourself.”
Now that the servant had already declared the First Consort merciful, what else could they possibly ask her? Feng Lezhen finally gave the old woman a second glance—clearly someone who knew how to play the game. Unfortunately, she wasn’t playing for her.
The First Consort’s maid turned red and white in embarrassment, speechless. The others quickly jumped in to smooth things over, and the matter was brushed aside.
After the hairdressing was finished, Feng Lezhen stepped outside. Feizhan was already waiting. When he saw her, he froze for a moment, then lifted his lips in a smirk. “All dolled up, you almost look like a beauty.”
He said it in a devil-may-care tone, flippant and teasing. Others who heard it gave Feng Lezhen looks of pity. She, however, remained composed and only glanced at him sideways. “With a veil on, how can you even tell I’m a beauty?”
Tayuan didn’t use red bridal veils, but a semi-transparent red gauze still covered the face, adorned with tiny bells that jingled softly with each step—reminding her, inappropriately, of someone from her past.
“If I say you’re a beauty, then you’re a beauty.” Feizhan suddenly reached out, pulling her into his arms. “Keep talking back and I’ll kill you.”
“I wouldn’t dare argue. After all, the Third Prince speaks the truth,” Feng Lezhen replied coolly. “If I weren’t a beauty, why would the Third Prince go to such lengths to take me by force?”
Servants nearby gasped softly, fearing Feizhan might drag her inside and punish her—he did have a reputation.
Whenever something displeased him, he was known to beat people half to death. Even the maids didn’t dare serve in the Rinuan Pavilion. The ones dressing Feng Lezhen today had all been sent by other consorts.
Feizhan’s face shifted several times, clearly tempted to teach her a lesson. But in the end, he held back, mindful of the occasion.
He released her with a grimace. “Just wait for tonight. We’ll see how I deal with you.”
Some of the more timid servants shivered at those words, filled with sympathy for the Third Prince Consort. But Feng Lezhen remained calm and silent, following him out.
As the couple disappeared through the gates, the crowd began to gather and whisper.
“The Third Prince Consort is so pitiful. What good is being a royal consort if she’s treated like this? Who knows how long she’ll last?”
“She’ll hold on until the day she dies, I suppose. Honestly, I doubt she’ll even make it through winter.”
“So tragic…”
Feng Lezhen hadn’t heard these remarks, but she could guess what they’d say—and she didn’t care.
“What was that ruckus back there?” Feizhan asked.
“Just some posturing,” Feng Lezhen replied.
“It’s already started?” Feizhan seemed surprised.
“Tayuan’s political scene has been stagnant for years. Now that you’ve appeared as a wild card, of course some people are getting restless.”
Feizhan snorted lightly. “Saves me the trouble, then.”
“Saves you? You wish.” Feng Lezhen gave him a sideways look. “Don’t slack off. Get the oil boiling—we don’t have time to waste playing games.”
“Today’s our wedding day, and Your Highness speaks so coldly—isn’t that a little heartless?” Feizhan replied with mock grievance.
Feng Lezhen gave a cold chuckle but said nothing more after noticing eyes watching them from ahead.
As soon as they exited the Rinuan Pavilion, a cheer erupted outside. Feng Lezhen frowned and looked up, while Feizhan’s face darkened and he strode forward without a word. Even when someone reminded him to toss wedding candies, he ignored them.
…Forget it. Everyone knew this marriage was forced. As long as there was no runaway bride, it was already a blessing. Best to be tolerant. The servants exchanged glances and forced smiles as they uttered auspicious words.
“According to custom, a prince’s wedding should be escorted by nobility all the way to the king for the formal rites. But unfortunately, I’m only a half-blood prince, and I’m marrying a woman from Great Qian. Our future children will have even less pure blood than I do, so naturally no nobles want to join in. All I get is a crowd of servants—must be awkward for you.” Feizhan’s tone was laced with sarcasm.
Feng Lezhen remained expressionless. “I knew I wouldn’t have a good life with you.”
“Too bad. You’re stuck with me.” Feizhan shot back.
The conversation between the two left everyone else on edge, worried they might suddenly come to blows… Though if it really came to that, the woman from Great Qian probably wouldn’t stand a chance against the Third Prince. The servants looked at the tall and broad Feizhan, then at Feng Lezhen, who was barely half his width, and silently mourned for the Third Prince Consort.
The two walked all the way to Jufu Palace, where the Tayuan King and his many consorts and princes were already waiting. Gathered around them were also the most prominent nobles of Tayuan.
Most people greeted the couple with smiles upon arrival, but one or two couldn’t help letting contempt flash in their eyes. It wasn’t that they looked down on people from Great Qian—after all, Great Qian was far wealthier and stronger than them. They simply looked down on “half-bloods.”
Even to this day, they believed the current Tayuan King’s greatest mistake had been allowing a Great Qian woman to bear his child, polluting the bloodline of the noble Tayuan royal family.
Feizhan kept his eyes lowered, as though unaware of the disdain in their eyes. He stepped forward and bowed to the Tayuan King. Feng Lezhen stood beside him, continuing to play the role of the resistant bride.
She wasn’t a delicate or prideful person. If it helped her survive, she could endure hardship, even humiliation. Lowering her status to bow to the Tayuan King was no big deal. But now that she was supposedly “forced” into marriage, even if she didn’t bow, no one could fault her.
And if no one would fault her—why bother bowing?
Sure enough, the Tayuan King didn’t mind. He simply said a few empty words about mutual respect and support after marriage, then signaled for them to proceed to the next round of bows: the First Consort, Second Consort, Third Consort… Feng Lezhen thought expressionlessly that the Tayuan King really did have a lot of women.
When it was Luo Ying’s turn, she wiped her eyes and gave a tearful admonishment: “You two must live peacefully. Don’t fight anymore.”
“We understand, Mother,” Feizhan answered with a smile.
Everyone knew the smile was fake. Feizhan was famously filial—if it made his mother happy, marrying a woman meant nothing to him.
“Ah Tao, you…” Luo Ying met Feng Lezhen’s gaze and inexplicably flinched. For some reason, she had always felt a bit afraid of this girl. Maybe it was guilt, knowing her son had wronged her. Luo Ying couldn’t think too much on it, and with teary eyes said, “You must take care too. If Feizhan ever does anything to wrong you, come to me. I’ll stand up for you.”
“All right,” Feng Lezhen finally gave her a single word in response—unlike earlier, when the First and Second Consorts tried lecturing her and she couldn’t even be bothered to reply.
Luo Ying let out a tiny breath and was finally satisfied.
After bowing to over twenty consorts, they had to bow to older siblings, then hand out sweets to younger sisters. The whole process took until midday. Feizhan, with a cold face, led Feng Lezhen toward the altar.
“Who are we bowing to now?” Feng Lezhen asked.
“Heaven and Earth,” Feizhan replied. “Tayuan reveres nature, believing it is Heaven and Earth that grant us strong bodies and wise minds. Only after bowing to Heaven and Earth is the ceremony truly complete.”
Then he added with a sneer, “It’s also this so-called ‘Way of Nature’ that makes them believe Tayuan is a one-of-a-kind nation, with blood that flows like rivers and mountains. Once it’s tainted by foreign blood, it becomes like a dead tree—unfit to be called a child of Tayuan.”
As they spoke, the two of them reached the top of the altar.
The altar had over a hundred steps. At the top was a small platform no larger than a round table, with two cushions and a low table. On the table were incense, offerings, half a bowl of rice wine, and a small ceremonial dagger. The space was so tight that even standing there felt dangerous—no railings, and a fall from this height would be fatal. Below them, the crowd of onlookers had gathered in thick clusters.
“In that case, Heaven and Earth are your enemies,” Feng Lezhen said, continuing the earlier conversation.
Feizhan gave a laugh with no real mirth. “Aren’t they just?”
“When you take the throne, be sure to smash all these altars,” Feng Lezhen said coldly. “They’re a pain to climb.”
Feizhan paused and glanced up, catching sight of the sweat beading at her temples. He almost laughed.
Tayuan was north of Yingguan, and even in summer, it wasn’t hot. For her to be sweating this much—no wonder she hated the altar so much.
“Hurry and finish the ceremony. I want to go back and sleep,” Feng Lezhen grumbled. Since arriving at Yingguan, she had stayed up late often, but rarely woke up early. Today she’d been up before dawn and running around nonstop. She was thoroughly annoyed.
But Feizhan didn’t move.
She frowned and looked up, meeting his deep, unreadable gaze.
“What do you think,” he said softly, “if I announced your identity in front of everyone, then pushed you off this altar—would they be shocked, or pleased? Would Father, realizing how capable I am, still cast me aside so easily? Or would he finally start to wonder whether competence or bloodline matters more to Tayuan?”
Feng Lezhen was silent for a moment… then—Smack!
A crisp slap rang out clearly from the top of the altar. Just as the spectators below were craning their necks to see why the ceremony hadn’t continued, they saw the Great Qian woman slap the Third Prince across the face.
Gasps echoed from the crowd. Even the bushy-mustached eldest prince, who had rushed over to watch the scene, widened his eyes. “That woman… she’s wild!”
The crowd buzzed below. But atop the altar, it was silent. Feizhan didn’t get angry after the slap—he actually looked a little wronged.
“It was just a joke… did you really have to hit me in front of everyone?”
“Cut the madness and finish up. I need a nap,” the sleep-deprived Eldest Princess grumbled irritably.
