First year of Longqing, sixth day of the fourth month. The God of Joy was in the east—auspicious for marriage, opening kitchens, opening markets. Great fortune and great benefit.
Wang Daxia got up before dawn, repeatedly checking the calendar by his bedside to confirm he wasn’t dreaming. He had truly waited for this auspicious day after three years, then another three years, then another three months.
Having endured family mourning and national mourning, he was finally marrying Wei Caiwei today.
Wang Daxia went to the ancestral hall in the dark. It was his own home—he could walk there with his eyes closed. Lamps were burning in the hall. Commander Mu had actually risen even earlier than the groom, having burned incense for Wang Qianhu and placed offerings of the three sacrificial animals.
When Wang Daxia entered, Commander Mu was staring blankly at Wang Qianhu’s spirit tablet.
Two years ago, after confirming that Wang Qianhu had been buried in the Yangtze River with no remains, Wang Daxia and the others had erected a cenotaph for him in the ancestral graveyard. Commander Mu had handled the funeral arrangements, breaking his heart over the Wang family affairs. In the previous life, it was also Commander Mu who ultimately bore all responsibilities.
Hearing the door open, Commander Mu suddenly awakened from his memories: “You’re here? So early. The groom should sleep more—you’ll be busy today. Leave the household matters to me. After offering incense, go back and sleep a bit more.”
Wang Daxia offered incense to his father and mother, telling them he was getting married today. When inserting the incense, he saw one stick in the burner was nearly burned out. Needless to say, it must have been Commander Mu’s incense. “Uncle Mu, did you stay up all night?”
Commander Mu said: “Not really. I slept until midnight, then thinking about your wedding, couldn’t sleep anymore. Might as well get up and come tell your parents about today’s arrangements.”
Wang Daxia’s marriage relied entirely on Commander Mu’s management. Someone with no blood relation acted as both father and mother, all because of one sentence in Wang Qianhu’s letter: “I entrust Daxia’s marriage to you”—keeping his promise.
Wang Daxia hugged Commander Mu like when he was little, resting his head on his shoulder: “Thank you, Uncle Mu. You raised me when I was small; I’ll support you when you’re old. In the future, we’ll take care of you in your final years.”
Commander Mu pushed Wang Daxia’s head away with one palm: “I have plenty of salary; I don’t need your support. You just need to hurry up and spread branches and leaves for the old Wang family while I can still move. I can still help raise the children and teach them martial arts. Any later, and I won’t be able to manage.”
Hearing this, Wang Daxia fled like the wind! He wasn’t ready to be a father yet—he was still “learning and observing” how to be a husband, afraid Wei Caiwei would be dissatisfied and tell him to get out so she could do it herself. Anyway, fish bladders, sheep intestines, and such would still need to be used!
Commander Mu shook his head and smiled bitterly at Wang Daxia’s retreating figure, then turned to Wang Qianhu’s spirit tablet: “Look, this child is twenty-one and still acts like an impetuous youth. Tell me, how dare I grow old? There are too many things to worry about. I need to wait a few more years before going underground to find you.”
As best man, Lu Ying was the first guest to arrive at the Wang home. She wore an imperially bestowed bright red python robe with a pair of fiery pomegranate flowers in her black headband, symbolizing many children and grandchildren.
The scarred handsome gentleman wore flowers for the first time, likely to captivate many more young women in the capital and become the man of their dreams.
Lu Ying asked him: “How does my appearance look? Today the groom is most important—if you say it’s good, it’s good. If not, I’ll change. I’ll listen to you completely.”
Wang Daxia stroked his chin, circling Lu Ying once: “It looks quite good, but I worry you’re too handsome and will steal my thunder. However—”
Wang Daxia put his hands on his hips and laughed heartily: “No matter how many women like you, it’s enough that Caiwei only likes me.”
Wang Daxia, draped in red and festooned with colors, went to fetch his bride. The two families lived close by as neighbors. Wang Daxia’s bottom hadn’t warmed the saddle before arriving at Wei Caiwei’s building.
A group of women with rolling pins, brooms, and other implements gathered at the entrance—all neighbors and local residents. According to capital customs, they would “beat” the groom, though not really—just going through the motions. Actually, they blocked the door to make a fuss and demand money from the groom.
Of course, if the groom was stingy and gave too little, he would get a few solid whacks.
Today wasn’t a time for fighting and showing off strength. Even Wang Daxia, the number one dandy of the northern district, had to quickly dismount and scatter money without hesitation.
Lu Ying, as best man, protected Wang Daxia as they entered. The women, seeing Lu Ying’s handsomeness and having received money, couldn’t bear to hit her. Wang Daxia easily passed through without receiving a single blow. Lu Ying was truly worth it as a best man.
At the room’s entrance, music played loudly, especially the suona almost lifting the roof. Lu Ying recited a poem urging the bride to finish dressing: “Not knowing what evening this is, urging the terrace near the mirror stand; who says lotus grows in water—a single branch blooms in the bronze mirror.”
The door opened. Wei Caiwei wore bright red wedding clothes and a full set of gold-inlaid gemstone jewelry, holding a fan made of green peacock feathers to cover her face.
Wang Daxia stood on his toes, trying to stand high to see the bride, but was pulled away by Lu Ying: “More and more neighbors outside want money. Even if you were a mountain of gold and silver, you couldn’t afford to scatter it. Quickly bring the bride home—then you can look your fill at home.”
Wei Caiwei, holding her feather fan, got into the bridal sedan. After just a few steps, she was carried to the Wang family entrance. The matchmaker, holding a bowl of rice, sang: “Drums and music resound through the capital, today the Weaver Girl matches the Cowherd. The household’s relatives come to receive treasure, adding trousseau and rice has been preserved since ancient times.”
After singing, the matchmaker scooped a spoonful of steaming rice and walked to Wei Caiwei’s side: “Bride, open your mouth to receive rice.” This custom meant the bride would henceforth eat the husband’s family’s food.
Wei Caiwei took a bite. The matchmaker tied one end of a red silk ribbon with a lovers’ knot in the middle to her wrist holding the fan, giving the other end to Wang Daxia: “Groom, lead the bride through the door.”
Wang Daxia’s younger brother Wang Daqiu brought a saddle to the entrance. Wang Daxia crossed first, then waited in front of the saddle, saying to Wei Caiwei behind him holding the feather fan: “Careful lifting your foot—there’s a saddle ahead.”
The onlookers laughed. The bride covered her face with the fan and kept her head down—of course she could see the saddle under her feet. The groom was being unnecessarily helpful.
Wei Caiwei smiled knowingly behind the feather fan, steadily stepping over the saddle, symbolizing lifelong peace.
The watching women with rolling pins and brooms were all experienced, commenting: “The groom clearly knows how to cherish people—so gentle and considerate.”
“Indeed! Remember when the groom paraded three men through Gulou West Xie Street for public humiliation? That was to defend his bride’s honor.”
“Shh, it’s an auspicious day for lovers finally united in marriage. We just got plenty of money, so let’s not mention those things.”
Wang Daxia pulled the lovers’ knot silk ribbon, leading Wei Caiwei toward the wedding hall. The bride’s feet never touched the ground, walking entirely on red carpet. Wei Caiwei felt somewhat nervous—this red carpet seemed so long, as if it would never end.
Though she had married Wang Daxia in both past and present lives, marrying twice, becoming food-sharing spouses in the palace just meant setting up a table and announcing they were together. Wei Caiwei had never experienced such a grand civilian wedding ceremony.
She was now truly a maiden in her first bridal sedan—her very first time.
Wang Daxia kept pulling the red silk ahead, turning back every three steps, constantly reminding her to walk slowly, watch the turns, mind the threshold ahead, causing the watching guests to laugh.
Wei Caiwei considered herself thick-skinned, but hearing the laughter now, her face burned with embarrassment, thinking:
Just walk faster! Stop dawdling! This old lady has lived over fifty years combined in past and present lives! Does this old lady not know how to walk?
Even the usually serious Lu Yi couldn’t help but laugh, urging Wang Daxia to hurry to the wedding hall for the ceremony and not miss the auspicious time.
Finally reaching the wedding hall, Wei Caiwei breathed a sigh of relief, like the three disciples who had endured eighty-one trials and finally obtained the true scriptures in the Western Heaven—Wang Daxia was undoubtedly Zhu Bajie.
When it came time for the ceremony, neither had living parents, so Wang Daxia invited Commander Mu to take the place of honor, treating him as parents for the ceremony. Commander Mu watched the couple and thought of Wang Qianhu again, his eyes brimming with tears.
After bowing to heaven and earth, Wang Daxia led Wei Caiwei into the bridal chamber by their lovers’ knot. The matchmaker sang: “The newlyweds step through the high hall, goddess and immortal gentleman enter the bridal chamber. Red flowers and lucky money deserve much reward, the five directions scatter tent covers for prosperity of yin and yang.” (Note 1)
The tent-scattering ceremony was about to begin. The two sat side by side on the bed as Lu Ying recited a fan-removing poem:
“Don’t bring painted fans from the curtains, hiding spring mountains delays the talent above. If you say reunion resembles the bright moon, osmanthus flowers must be allowed to bloom within.”
Wei Caiwei moved away the feather fan covering her face, like a blooming lotus flower—truly beautiful.
Wang Daxia turned his face sideways, looking at Wei Caiwei with an infatuated smile: “My wife is so beautiful.”
Everyone laughed again, embarrassing Wei Caiwei so much she wanted to raise the feather fan to cover her face again! So awkward!
The matchmaker suppressed laughter and scattered lucky money, grains, red dates, peanuts, and such from a plate throughout the bed curtains, chanting: “Scatter tent east, curtains deeply surround red candle shadows. Auspicious energy luxuriantly gathered never disperses, the painted hall daily enjoys spring breezes…”
The matchmaker chanted while scattering, covering all directions of the bed curtains—east, south, west, north, center, front, and back. Inside the curtains, the couple’s wide clothing and skirts caught the grains and fruits—the more caught, the better.
When scattering in the middle, several peanuts were about to fall on Wei Caiwei’s head, but Wang Daxia quickly caught them all, afraid they would hurt her.
Everyone laughed again. In the bridal chamber, waves of laughter rose higher and higher. They had never seen such a groom as Wang Daxia, treating his bride like precious tofu with such tender care.
Wei Caiwei immediately forgot her embarrassment, feeling only warmth in her heart.
After the tent-scattering ceremony ended, everyone tactfully left, leaving only the couple.
Wei Caiwei untied the red satin ribbon from her wrist: “I need to remove my makeup. You go toast the guests.” Today’s bridal makeup used at least two ounces of powder—she felt stifled.
Wang Daxia reluctantly put down the lovers’ knot: “I’ll make one round and come right back.”
All the guests wanted to make the groom drink. Lu Ying stepped forward to block drinks, secretly having servants add water to wine—as long as it tasted like alcohol. Wang Daxia cooperated by pretending to be drunk. Hundred-Household Wu and other comrades carried him to the bridal chamber door: “Groom, stop pretending. We’re all family here—walk in yourself. We really can’t carry you anymore.”
Wang Daxia gave his comrades red envelopes to show thanks and returned to the bridal chamber to find it empty. Maids had already cleaned up the grains and lucky money from the bed. The dressing table was covered with jewelry Wei Caiwei had removed, and splashing water sounds came from the bathroom.
His wife was bathing. Wang Daxia removed his black gauze cap, kicked off his boots, tore off his wedding clothes, and rubbed his hands like a fly as he entered the bathroom. Having practiced diligently at home and carefully studied techniques for the past three months, he was confident that tonight on their wedding night, he could definitely graduate.
Author’s Note: The wedding chapter must be sweet! Let’s scatter flowers for their wedding, everyone!
Note 1: The marriage customs in this chapter reference “The Record of Quick-Tongued Daughter-in-law Li Cuilian” from “Qingping Mountain Hall Story Collection” compiled by Hong Pian during the Jiajing period of the Ming Dynasty. It feels more appropriate for the time period.
The makeup-urging poem is by Jia Dao, the fan-removing poem is by Li Shangyin.