When the bridal procession was still five hundred paces from the Prince Regent’s estate, Chen Qing had firecrackers set off. However many layers thick they had stacked them was anyone’s guess, for the sound crashed over the wedding music like the roar of a cresting sea.
Behind the gates, servants stood waiting with basket after basket of firecrackers. The moment the first round finished, they would light the second without pause — then the third, then the fourth — and so on until the bridal procession had passed through the gates of the Prince Regent’s estate.
In the Great Qing, the louder the commotion, the greater the esteem in which the groom’s household was considered to hold the bride. Hua Bailin raised his hand to signal the procession to slow its pace, then urged the children to scatter the remaining sweets and red envelopes with greater speed. Ordinary commoners rarely ventured to this part of the city, yet today there was no restriction set, and the roads on both sides were already packed with people. Concerned that any disruption might mar this auspicious day, Gu Yanxi had asked Fu Gang to lead the Imperial Guards in maintaining order.
Wedding sweets and red envelopes fell like rain, and amid the thunder of firecrackers came laughter and a chorus of blessings. The scene was livelier by far than even the Lantern Festival or the Festival of the Cowherd and Weaving Maid.
Just then, the Prince Regent’s estate sent out servants carrying basket upon basket of sweets and red envelopes of their own — not scattering them by hand, but ladling them out with great scoops, so that the gentle drizzle became a downpour. Yet no one ducked away. People laughed and reached their hands out eagerly, and those struck in the face by the sweets only laughed all the more.
As the bridal procession drew nearer, the wedding music swelled. The firecrackers fell silent at last, and those assembled finally noticed: the groom, who ought to have been preparing to receive his bride from within, was instead standing at the foot of the front steps outside the gate, waiting to welcome her in person.
Hua Bailin stepped forward to pay his respects, his voice ringing out clearly. “Brother-in-law!”
Gu Yanxi raised both hands to lift him by the arms. The man who was almost always utterly expressionless in public was today smiling broadly, his face full of warmth. This was the first time his young brother-in-law had ever addressed him that way. He accepted it with solemn gravity, and pressed a red envelope into the boy’s hand as a gift for the new form of address.
Hua Bailin accepted it with a grin and stepped aside to watch the dowry chests being carried into the estate one by one.
He had been at his eldest sister’s side all along, and had watched with his own eyes as the two of them came to know one another, gradually drawing closer, until they had arrived at this joyous day. Because of this, he trusted his brother-in-law more than anyone else in the family. He believed that a Prince Regent who would willingly lay down his life for his eldest sister would never be willing to hurt her heart. His eldest sister was one who could be gentle or steadfast, who could be content with a quiet corner of the world or hold up an entire sky. In private, she was the warmest of people — not someone who bore down on others until they could not breathe, nor someone who sought to display her authority before her family. What woman in all the world, he wondered, could compare to her?
“When my elder female cousin was married, I asked her husband whether he would treat her well. Now I find I have no desire to ask the same question.” Hua Bailin turned to look at the man who was also looking at him. “I simply hope that my brother-in-law will treat my eldest sister even better than well. Should there come a day when that goodness is no longer, please return her to the Hua Family whole and unharmed. The Hua Family will always have a place for her.”
“That day will never come.” Gu Yanxi’s reply came without a moment’s hesitation, his voice firm and clear. What he feared most was only that he would spend the rest of his life unable to be with Hua Zhi. Everything else, to him, was simply not a problem.
His grandmother worried he would have no heir. But he had Hua Zhi. That was enough.
Hua Bailin said no more to dampen the mood. Whatever happened, he would make ready for every worst possibility — and he would work to become formidable as soon as possible, earn the recognition of his grandfather and father, and secure a voice for himself within the family. When that day came, if his eldest sister wished to come home, she could do as she pleased, and no one would dare say a word.
The dowry was still being carried in with great noise and merriment. The Hua Family’s ten li of crimson contained not a single drop of exaggeration — the front of the procession had already entered the estate while the tail end had not yet left the Hua Family gates. Onlookers gasped in amazement, and those with a mind to count set about doing so in earnest, enjoying every bit of the spectacle.
In Hua Zhi’s courtyard, however, a quiet had settled.
There was no shortage of people — it was simply that with the dowry carried out, this corner of the grounds felt extraordinarily still. When the muffled sounds of bustle from the front courtyard drifted over, the stillness felt all the more pronounced.
Hua Zhi sat on the large bed. With nothing else to do, she had taken up a book to read. The maids inside and outside the room moved about on light feet, attending to their tasks without anyone disturbing her.
Zhu Shi stood in the doorway watching this scene, and felt, without quite knowing why, a sting rising behind her eyes. She even had the most untimely thought: if it were possible, she truly wished she could let her daughter simply remain at home like this, reading books each day, eating whatever she liked, living whatever life she most wanted to live — rather than going off to someone else’s household, where she, as a mother, would worry every moment about whether her daughter was being treated well.
“Mother.” Hua Zhi, impossible not to feel a gaze like that fixed on her, set down her book and stretched both arms open toward her mother with the look of a child asking to be held.
Zhu Shi laughed despite herself, dabbed at the corners of her eyes, and came inside to sit beside her daughter. She placed a small box in her hands. “Your mother does not know more than you do, and has nothing much to teach you. Have a look inside when you return — you will understand.”
She patted her daughter’s arm, then sighed. “Your mother knows you are a proud woman. Your mother’s greatest wish is that you never allow that pride to be diminished. And yet in a lifetime, how can there be moments one need never bow one’s head? You look strong and unyielding, but your heart is soft — that is what I fear. That when the time comes, you may be caught off guard and end up wronging yourself. Your father asked me to tell you: if ever you must compromise, come home. The Hua Family does not care whether you are a married daughter returning to her parents’ home. You dared to let your sister-in-law return — would we let you suffer? Your father’s heart aches for you. But you know how he is — he is a man who keeps everything locked inside, and even when he has things to say, he cannot get them out. So he had me pass this along. No matter what time it is, the Hua Family is your support. You may return whenever you wish, with no hesitation whatsoever. This home will always have a place for you. Your room and everything you have here will be preserved exactly as they are — your grandfather gave that instruction himself. The family will one day pass into your younger brother’s hands, and you need not fear coming back and having to read anyone’s expression. No one would dare.”
Hua Zhi touched the small box and smiled. She knew what was inside — nothing other than intimate illustrations of that kind. It was said that mothers always provided such a gift when their daughters married, so the bride would understand what to expect on her wedding night and not be caught wholly unprepared.
“Mother, you should have a little more faith in Yan Xi. He is a man of deep constancy.” Hua Zhi set the box to one side and looked up, eyes warm and bright, at her mother, whose eyes were swollen from crying — from however many rounds of tears she had already shed. “These past two years, had he not stood in front of me, the Hua Family might not have found such calm. He has done many things for me — some I know about, others I do not. He gave me his heart long ago. All the power rests in my hands. If I cherish his devotion, he will be happy. If I trample on it, he will bear it. A man like that — what reason could I possibly have to doubt him?”
Hua Zhi smiled, beautiful as a flower in full bloom. “I believe he will not fail me, just as he knows that I hold him dear and would not let him be unhappy.”
Zhu Shi turned her face away. A moment passed, and then she turned back with a smile and nodded vigorously. She was willing to believe that the Prince Regent — who turned into a harmless, defanged tiger in her daughter’s presence — truly loved her daughter. Her only worry was how long the loving would last.
She was afraid her daughter’s happiness would not last long enough. She hoped that from this day forward, her daughter would meet no more hardship, and that her life would be smooth and peaceful, without sorrow.