At this point, even His Majesty’s furrowed brow had smoothed out — and had he been inclined to feign displeasure, he would have needed a moment to compose himself first.

Just before the evening meal, His Majesty summoned Han Linfeng into the palace.

Naturally, having committed such an act that violated all standards of decency, Emperor Wei Hui went through the customary motions of delivering a scolding.

Han Linfeng wore an expression of utter regret, insisting repeatedly that he had truly drunk far too much — that when climbing the mountain path, he had felt as though his feet were treading upon clouds and cotton. It had been a failure of conduct brought on by drink, and he begged His Majesty’s forgiveness.

Emperor Wei Hui let out a cold snort. “This reckless act of yours has dragged Prince Heng into the mess as well. Today alone, two separate parties came to inform Us of your fine deeds. The damage to reputation is severe — if this is not resolved properly, it may well incite public outrage.”

Han Linfeng knelt upon the floor and pleaded with His Majesty to pardon him, on account of his youth and ignorance, just this once. As for punishment — so long as it spared him physical suffering, he was willing to pay compensation in silver.

At this, His Majesty’s tone eased somewhat, remarking only that though the young woman was not of noble birth, she was still the daughter of a respectable family. Even the Son of Heaven, if he broke the law, was to be held to the same standard as a common subject.

In his benevolence, His Majesty gave Han Linfeng a choice: either be arrested on charges of criminal misconduct, taken to the Ministry of Justice for a flogging and imprisonment — or marry the young woman and appease public sentiment.

Han Linfeng looked as though he had been struck by a bolt of lightning. He stared, dumbfounded, for a long moment, seemingly unable to believe the Emperor’s words. “But… Your Majesty, she is merely the daughter of a merchant household. Would it not suffice to take her as a concubine?”

The Emperor’s face darkened. “The daughter of a decent family can always find a proper match as the principal wife of a wealthy household. This unseemly affair of yours was witnessed all over that mountain. Were you to simply take her as a concubine, are you not afraid her family would come beating the drums at the court gates to cry injustice?”

Han Linfeng continued to struggle. “Though she may be fair of face, her eyes—”

Before he could finish, His Majesty cut him off sharply. “Enough! All of the capital knows what a fastidious man you are — first it was toes, and now you wish to find fault with a woman’s eyes? You have ruined that young woman’s purity. Do you intend to rely on your status as a member of the imperial family to make light of the matter and shirk all responsibility? This shameful deed is yours and yours alone. That you were able to drag someone off a mountain path suggests the woman must be of extraordinary beauty — a fitting match for you. You have no cause for complaint.”

Emperor Wei Hui genuinely did not know that the young woman was blind. In matters this trivial — even when someone had come to report it — only the essential facts were conveyed, not every particular detail the way a constable would record a case.

He had assumed Han Linfeng was indulging his old habit of scrutinizing women’s eyes for being too large or too small.

When he was done speaking, Emperor Wei Hui leaned back slightly in his seat. Ah — the line descended from the late Emperor of Sacred Virtue had now revealed the full extent of its decline. There was truly no salvaging it.

This thought led him to conclude that pairing such a worthless specimen with a girl from the imperial clan would only bring misfortune upon a family’s cherished daughter.

This match, though mismatched, was a fitting punishment for a profligate. It was entirely reasonable, and even if word spread, it would earn people’s praise for His Majesty’s fairness and benevolence toward common subjects.

Perhaps seeing that His Majesty had grown genuinely angry, Han Linfeng dared not say another word. After enduring a thorough berating, he was sent to kneel before the ancestral shrine through the night.

From this point forward, his marriage was decreed as an imperial bestowal — a merchant’s daughter granted to him, with the wedding to be completed at the earliest selected date.

Emperor Wei Hui was not Han Linfeng’s father; what was it to him whether this match was sound or absurd?

As for the palace attendants who had overheard — they glanced at the Shizi kneeling in punishment and inwardly shook their heads with cold amusement. For a good-for-nothing like Han Linfeng, forever embroiled in small troubles though never a catastrophe, it would be a waste of perfectly good poisoned wine to have him executed.

Keeping him alive, on the contrary, made the imperial family appear magnanimous — generous in its treatment of a former emperor’s descendants.

Now, with the imperially bestowed marriage before him, if Han Linfeng still wished to entangle himself with any young lady from the household of the Duke of Lu, he would have to think twice before daring to act.

And so, after a night of kneeling in punishment, Han Linfeng and Su Luoyun found themselves bound by an imperially decreed marriage — perfectly legitimate in name, yet utterly absurd in circumstance.

Upon hearing Han Linfeng’s account in its entirety, Luoyun’s body swayed slightly, and she very nearly crumpled to the ground.

Han Linfeng was quick-eyed and swift of hand, rising at once to steady her. “What is it? Are you all right?”

All right? Nothing could be less all right.

Su Luoyun had imagined every possible scenario — yet she had never imagined that the Emperor would actually bestow an imperial marriage upon a girl of no consequence whatsoever.

This absurd union was something even the most inventive storyteller at a teahouse could never have invented.

Yet looking at Han Linfeng, one of the two principals in this matter, she found his tone light and unbothered, as though he had accepted the Emperor’s haphazard matchmaking without a care in the world.

For a moment, she recalled the outrageous thing he had said to her before — about taking her into his household. At the time, he had only intended to make her a concubine. How was it that now, faced with so absurd an imperial edict, he could accept it with such equanimity?

Had she not known better — had she not been clear-eyed about her own circumstances, knowing full well that a blind woman like herself was unworthy of the Shizi — she might have genuinely suspected him of having orchestrated all of this through layers of scheming, working with careful deliberation to secure this very match.

The headaches that had spared her for some time now returned with sudden force. A wave of dizziness swept over her, and she leaned instinctively against Han Linfeng’s shoulder, her eyes closed, her voice low and drained. “What is to be done — you are about to become the laughingstock of all the capital again…”

If the match were to come to pass, Han Linfeng was in truth the one who suffered the greater loss. No matter how reduced his circumstances, he would never, under ordinary conditions, take a wife like her. What a stain upon his name — how could it ever be washed clean?

Han Linfeng bowed his head slightly, breathing in the faint scent of jasmine drifting from her hair. Carefully, he reached out and encircled her waist with his arm, his other hand lightly patting her back, and murmured softly, “To save me, did you not also become fodder for others’ gossip? When I weigh things between us — it is I who have wronged you…”

When the disorienting dizziness at last subsided, Luoyun collected herself — and only then realized she had been cradled in Han Linfeng’s arms.

A man’s embrace, firm and solid, holding her close within it.

Her body stiffened slightly. She immediately extricated herself from his arms, and with great effort managed to ask, “Shizi, you are full of ideas — do you have any means of undoing this? I will cooperate with whatever plan you devise.”

Han Linfeng watched her face with unhurried ease, his eyes half-lidded, and said slowly, “To defy an imperial edict is a crime punishable by decapitation. You and I are both still young — there is no need to throw ourselves against an impossible wall. In all things, one must know one’s own limits…”

He was right. An imperially bestowed marriage — to resist it would be to forfeit one’s head. What was done was done. What else could be said?

By the time Su Luoyun had settled back into her chair, she found she was at last able to face the bleak reality before her directly. After all, she had never been one favored by fate — and this unexpected turn, weighed against the loss of her sight, was not altogether so impossible to bear.

Once Su Luoyun accepted what could not be changed, her mind began to race — thinking of how to maximize her own interests within this absurd arrangement.

In this conspiracy, she and Han Linfeng were partners in the scheme. Naturally, she needed to fight for some say in the matter, so that the days ahead might be tolerable for them both.

With this in mind, she lowered her voice and asked, “…When does the Shizi intend to divorce me?”

Han Linfeng had only just withdrawn the hand that had steadied her. He had not expected his imperially betrothed to say something so outrageous.

He narrowed his eyes, though his tone remained gentle as before. “Miss Su… we have not yet wed, and already you wish to set a date for divorce?”

Su Luoyun did not think her words out of place at all.

A man like Han Linfeng — even had he not been of imperial lineage — with that reportedly striking appearance and the depth of his mind and strategy, ought to be matched with a virtuous and accomplished woman.

She was willing to acknowledge she possessed some small cleverness, yet that cleverness was no match for the cunning tempered in the deep recesses of palaces and great households. The gulf between them was far too wide.

Given that she had neither great talent nor exceptional virtue, was she truly to grow old alongside Han Linfeng on the strength of a single imperial word?

She thought of her mother — ground down by a mismatched marriage, her health ruined, her spirit broken, until she had died in quiet despair. The memory kept Su Luoyun alert and wary.

A man like Han Linfeng had far too many ways to bring an unwanted wife to an early end.

So she preferred to be sensible about it — some plain truths, spoken openly now, would put both their minds at ease.

For instance, should the Shizi in the future meet someone he truly wished to marry, there would be no need to go to the trouble of becoming a widower. He need only say the word, and they could come to a reasonable arrangement — citing her serious illness, or her failure to produce an heir, or some other ground among the seven causes for dismissal, and divorce her on that basis.

Han Linfeng did not interrupt her. He listened in silence until she had finished, then drew out his words at considerable length. “Miss Su truly plans far ahead. The thought hadn’t even occurred to me — that to change wives, one might first try becoming a widower…”

Luoyun had not been suggesting he kill his wife. Seeing the Shizi’s thinking had veered in entirely the wrong direction, she quickly pulled him back, saying only in a gentle tone that one ought to plan for every contingency.

Of course, if the Shizi had some better arrangement in mind for how they might coexist, he was welcome to suggest it. They could discuss it together, and harmony would lead to mutual benefit.

Han Linfeng fell silent for a moment — then seemed to recover himself, resuming his composed and refined manner. During their exchange, he even personally brought over a fruit platter and peeled a bright red fruit for her to eat.

With the atmosphere now amicable from their discussion, it was indeed easier to reach an understanding.

By the time she had finished explaining that she wished only to be a nominal couple with Han Linfeng — convenient and undisturbed, making no real demands on each other — Han Linfeng fell silent again for a spell, and at last said in an unhurried manner, “You and I married under pressing circumstances, as an expedient measure. It is only natural that Miss Su should feel a distance from me and need time to adjust. That is entirely understandable… The days ahead are long. For now, do whatever you find most comfortable.”

Hearing this, it was plain he had agreed to maintain the appearance of a marriage — a formality to be managed without genuine intimacy.

Su Luoyun, at the thought that after the wedding she would not truly have to share a bed with this neighbor of hers, let out a deeply felt breath of relief.

With the most important matter settled, everything else could be worked out.

That day, she and Han Linfeng discussed their future living arrangement as methodically as if they were negotiating an order of spices — going through the details with careful thoroughness.

Han Shizi proved far more composed than she was, showing no trace of the frustration or agitation that might accompany a man forced into an undesirable match.

Luoyun felt she fell short in comparison, and privately acknowledged that she still had room to grow in the art of equanimity.

After this conversation, much of the anxiety she had been carrying in her heart settled considerably.

The Emperor — perhaps fearing unrest from the Duke of Lu’s household, or perhaps worried that the unsavory affair, if left to fester, might tarnish the Sixth Prince’s reputation — issued a directive requiring Han Linfeng to complete the wedding before the end of the month.

The betrothal gifts that had been returned by the Wang Family were still in Liangzhou, and to have them transported here would take time they did not have.

Although Su Luoyun expressed that she did not mind receiving gifts originally intended for another bride, Han Linfeng nonetheless insisted it was better to prepare new ones, so as not to cause any delay in the timeline.

Luoyun had no great expectations for the gifts Han Linfeng might assemble on short notice. After all, both parties were well aware this was merely going through the motions. Given that, there was no need for her own dowry to be anything particularly elaborate.

Even in death, the camel is larger than the horse — no matter how diminished the circumstances of Prince Beizhen’s Shizi residence might be, it still held the standing of the imperial family, with some degree of wealth to its name.

She, a minor daughter of a merchant household, could not match the grandeur expected of the Shizi’s residence even if she emptied out everything she had — so a token gesture would suffice.

As for the Shizi’s parents — according to him, Lord Beizhen was not the sort of father who concerned himself with his children’s affairs, and the official princess consort who held the title of his principal mother had never troubled herself to manage him either.

In the first year or two after their marriage, there would be no need whatsoever to return to Liangzhou, nor would there be the tedium of attending upon in-laws.

Su Luoyun let out yet another layer of relief. As for when they did eventually return to Liangzhou, by that point the Shizi would in all likelihood be able to cite her failure to produce an heir as proper grounds and divorce her legitimately.

By then, she would have escaped her father Su Hongmeng’s control, and with the Shizi’s assistance, could establish an independent household of her own. Her younger brother would presumably have settled into his own life by then as well.

The road ahead remained long and uncertain — yet within it, a measure of something to look forward to had taken shape.

With all of this settled, Han Linfeng personally accompanied his newly betrothed back to the lane of Sweetwater Alley.

Su Luoyun’s thoughts had in truth not yet fully composed themselves — it all felt like wandering through a haze, as though in a dream, while the man beside her had gone from being a neighbor of note to her intended husband.

Yet Han Shizi seemed to have adapted to the new reality rather more quickly than she had. He strolled at ease beside her, asking which she preferred — the East Courtyard or the West Courtyard of the Shizi residence?

He also spoke leisurely of taking her to a country villa on the outskirts of the capital after the wedding for a few days of leisure, remarking that when the autumn leaves on that mountain turned red, there would be a beauty quite unlike any other.

Yet when they reached the Su family’s small courtyard and Nanny Tian and Guiyan came to open the gate themselves, Han Linfeng’s tone shifted abruptly to cool indifference. He said to Su Luoyun, “That will do. I have personally seen you home — I have given you sufficient face. Rest well.”

With that, he turned and walked away without a backward glance.

Luoyun understood perfectly well why Han Linfeng had done this. In the eyes of others, how could such a carefree and dissolute young man possibly consent to marrying a blind merchant’s daughter?

It could only be that he had lost his head in a moment of lust, taken a licentious tumble, and been caught in the act. It was only natural that he should put on a show of being compelled against his will — lest the Sixth Prince grow suspicious.

Perhaps before long, the young ladies across the capital who pined for the Shizi’s good looks would learn that this prized flower of wealth and nobility was to be planted in what they would deem a pile of a merchant’s manure.

The household of the Su family’s small courtyard, however, had clearly decided that Han Linfeng was the one deserving that unsavory designation.

The news had come too suddenly. Afraid of startling her younger brother, Luoyun gave only a vague account of her overnight absence.

Xiangcao, though unaware of the imperially decreed marriage, knew that her young mistress had been wronged. But since Luoyun said nothing, she naturally could not raise the matter either — she could only steal away when no one was watching, and weep quietly.

Caijian, on the other hand, was full of lively curiosity, asking her elder sister directly how the food and drink at the Shizi’s residence compared, and whether the Shizi had said anything of consequence to her.

And furthermore — her overnight absence, was it not somewhat improper? Surely she wasn’t so indifferent to marrying someday that she’d disregard the reputation of the Su family’s unmarried sister?

Every word was tinged with a faint vinegary undertone — the unspoken suggestion that her elder sister was rather overreaching, fancying herself capable of climbing toward higher branches.

Luoyun’s mind was still a tangle of a thousand loose threads she hadn’t begun to sort through, and she had no energy to drop the thunderbolt of the Emperor’s marriage decree. She only wanted a decent afternoon nap before dealing with anything else.

She said to the chattering Caijian, who was like a sparrow that wouldn’t stop chirping, “I’m going to sleep for a while. If you have nothing to do, go back to your room and embroider.”

Caijian, having found no satisfaction, could only retreat from the room with a sheepish expression.

But what she could never have anticipated was that no sooner had she lain down and slept for a little while than the Lu siblings arrived in urgent haste.

It turned out that although many travelers on the mountain had witnessed the scene the day before, they had only caught fragments of what had happened — no one had seen the young woman’s face, nor could they tell whose daughter had suffered such an indignity.

However, Prince Consort Zhao had also been present at the Sixth Prince’s banquet, and from Lu Kang’s words, had gathered that a blind young woman was involved.

Prince Consort Zhao had always held some small measure of expectation for Han Linfeng.

Yet he had never imagined that Han Linfeng would commit such a vile act. Zhao Dong was so disgusted that he could not bear to remain on that mountain with such a person, and he took his leave first, descending the mountain and returning to his residence.

When he arrived home and went to call upon the princess, she was having her ladies alter a newly made skirt and gown on her.

Zhao Dong had no heart for admiring fine garments. He declared in a furious voice that Princess Yuyang should henceforth keep her distance from the likes of Han Linfeng — a lecherous scoundrel. The princess gave a startled jump and could not help asking what the matter was.

At the time, the princess had happened to summon the Han family’s women to assist with the alteration. Lu Lingsiu was kneeling at the princess’s feet, adjusting the stitches, and by chance overheard some of what was said.

The word “blind woman” sent a tremor through the heart of the one listening.

She knew that Su Luoyun’s home was right next to the Shizi’s residence. And that previous lawsuit of Luoyun’s had also seemed to involve Han Shizi in some way.

A blind woman beautiful enough to capture the Shizi’s desire — how extraordinary a person must she be — and to fit both these particulars at once, there were precious few possibilities in all the capital. It was not difficult to draw the connection.

Lu Lingsiu was so startled in that moment that she nearly jabbed the princess with her needle.

Her hands trembled from listening so intently, and she could not bring herself to sew another stitch. She told the princess only that she would take the skirt back to finish the alterations herself, then gathered the garment and hurried out of the residence.

With the two families now at odds, she had spent a restless night in hesitation, and by the next day could hold back no longer — there was no one else she could tell but her elder brother.

Lu Shi, upon hearing this account, was himself visibly shaken. He went straight away to bring his younger sister to Sweetwater Alley to find out the truth.

They arrived to find that Su Luoyun had already returned home.

Lu Shi wished to enter, but Su Luoyun had him turned away at the gate — saying only that she lived alone with her younger brother and it was not convenient to receive male guests. She let only Lu Lingsiu come inside.

When Lu Lingsiu entered and took a careful look at Luoyun, she found there was nothing outwardly amiss, and so she asked where Luoyun had been the day before.

When Luoyun explained that she had gone up the mountain to burn incense and pray — and that it was the very mountain where the incident had taken place — Lu Lingsiu stamped her foot in alarm and told Luoyun directly what she had overheard at the princess’s residence, then asked whether the matter had anything to do with her.

Su Luoyun paused briefly, thinking that this could not be concealed for long, and deliberated over how to explain things to her friend.

But Lu Lingsiu saw her hesitation, and in an instant understood. She broke into tears then and there.

She urged Luoyun to stop hiding things from her — had she truly encountered Han Shizi on the mountain and been dragged off by him into the undergrowth? If that was truly what had happened, what was to be done? Should she leave the capital for a while before word spread further?

As fate would have it, Guiyan, hearing that the Lu family’s elder sister had come, personally carried a tray of tea toward the room to serve the guest. Through the curtain, he overheard every word Lu Lingsiu had said.

He had already been puzzled as to why his elder sister had spent the night in the Shizi’s residence for no apparent reason. But now, hearing Lu Lingsiu’s words, and recalling the faint injuries still visible on the Shizi’s face when he had seen him — it all clicked suddenly into place.

The young man’s fury rose so swiftly that he slammed the tea tray in his hands to the ground, burst into the room, and threw his arms around his elder sister, weeping brokenly. Then he scrambled to his feet and made to go smash down the gates of the residence on Bluefish Lane.

Lu Lingsiu, seeing him act out in such a frenzied state, seized the impulsive young man by the arm.

The matter had not yet spread openly, and the full truth was still unclear. If they stirred up a commotion now, it would only harm Luoyun’s reputation further.

But Guiyan was in no state to hear reason. The Shizi was so tall and powerfully built — if he had truly done something to his elder sister when she was alone and unguarded, how could her slight, fragile frame have offered any resistance?

To think that he had always held that Shizi in high regard, believing him to be nothing like the worthless rake people said he was. And yet the man turned out to be this sort of beast dressed in fine robes.

Every trace of the neighborly goodwill he had once felt evaporated at once. The slender young man’s forehead veins rose sharply. He shoved the Lu family’s elder sister aside, dashed out into the courtyard, seized the woodcutting axe from the corner, and charged toward the gate.

Nanny Tian gave a frightened lunge and caught hold of the young master, calling out loudly to the manservants who were doing rough work in the yard to come help restrain him.

In the midst of the commotion, Xiangcao happened to turn her head and spotted Caijian and her maidservant Xique crouching beneath Luoyun’s window — clutching what appeared to be freshly fried cakes they had taken from the kitchen.

The two of them had been eavesdropping for who knew how long. Startled by Guiyan suddenly bursting out, they were so frightened that the half-eaten cake dropped from their hands onto the ground.

Caijian’s eyes had gone wide as saucers — her relatively simple mind clearly struggling to digest quite so much at once.

But there was no one with the presence of mind to deal with Caijian and her companion at this moment.

Luoyun felt her way toward the sound, then found Guiyan’s arm by touch and wrested the axe from her brother’s grasp, pushing him back inside.

With the chaos still at hand, she and Lu Lingsiu were not able to speak at any length — she only told her to give her some time, and they would speak in detail later.

Lu Lingsiu felt somewhat guilty as well for having spoken too freely and nearly caused Guiyan to lose all reason.

She said only to Luoyun that she would keep this entirely to herself and say nothing to anyone outside. Then she said she would come again the following day — and went out, hauling her elder brother away with considerable effort.

On this side, Luoyun still had to console her younger brother. She gave him a broad account of what had happened — though it was half-true and half-fabricated, carefully concealing the parts that could not be told. She said only that she and the Shizi had been harboring mutual affection for some time, and that this had not been a sudden, reckless impulse.

On that day upon the mountain, she and the Shizi had made a private tryst and been discovered by others — and it was from this that the misunderstanding had arisen.

The Shizi, fearing the damage to her reputation, had discussed matters with her and together they had presented the situation to the Emperor. His Majesty had then bestowed a marriage upon them, granting imperial approval for the two to wed at a chosen date.

This was not something Luoyun had invented on her own — it was the official version the Emperor himself had instructed Han Linfeng to spread publicly.

Emperor Wei Hui’s underlying purpose in decreeing this marriage was to make the madman of the Fang family abandon hope once and for all. He would never have permitted Han Linfeng to say he had been forced into the match against his will.

So Emperor Wei Hui had instructed Han Linfeng to declare to everyone, without exception, that he had long been engaged in a secret romance with the merchant girl next door — that the two had been deeply in love — and that he had come to entreat His Majesty to bestow the marriage. As for whether anyone believed it, that was of no consequence. The imperial will simply needed to be presented with some justification.

In telling it this way, Luoyun could consider herself lying at the Emperor’s command.

Guiyan listened with a dazed expression, feeling that his elder sister was likely trying to deceive him. What she was saying was quite different from what the Lu family’s elder sister had said.

But then again — thinking back carefully — his elder sister and that Shizi had indeed been rather close of late. Either whispering to each other over the garden wall, or walking out of the alley together side by side…

Could it truly be that the two had formed a quiet attachment, and genuinely cared for each other?

Yet no matter how one looked at it, this match was ill-suited — his elder sister and the Shizi seemed like two entirely unrelated people thrown together by force. How had they come to be marrying so suddenly?

And just now, the Shizi’s manner had been so cold and indifferent, exactly as though he had been maneuvered into taking a wife against his will.

The young man’s heart was a tumult of worry, preoccupied above all with one thing: in a match so plainly unequal, could the Shizi truly be trusted to treat his elder sister well?

After finally managing to calm her younger brother, Su Luoyun summoned Nanny Tian and Xiangcao into the room. The door was closed behind them — and the very first matter to be addressed was informing them that she was to marry Han Linfeng.

Nanny Tian pressed her back against the doorframe, unable to trust her own ears, and could only stare blankly at Xiangcao, seeking confirmation that she had not imagined it.