Winter reveals no spring light, yet surpasses spring in brilliance — three parts owed to the clear skies after snowfall, seven parts owed to the welcoming of a new bride.

In the afternoon, as the sun began its gentle descent, the Xu Family’s wedding procession stood ready to depart.

“The auspicious hour has arrived — set forth to welcome the bride!”

Xu Yancheng emerged from the ancestral hall, his black gauze hat adorned with flowers on either side, his body clad in a great crimson robe of satin, embroidered with mandarin duck insignia in gold and blue thread, cloud patterns decorating his cuffs and hem, a silver-trimmed sash tied at his waist, and black court boots upon his feet — he walked forward with an air of clarity and ease.

With a light vault, he mounted a tall and spirited horse, brimming with vigor and high spirits.

Behind him on either side rode the two brothers, Shaohuai and Shaojin, dressed in pale willow-green robes with indigo silk sashes at their waists, black boots on their feet, square scholar’s caps folded neatly upon their heads, and a length of red brocade draped diagonally across their shoulders — the very picture of humble and courteous men of letters.

The wedding procession set off, gongs and drums resounding all the way, festive and jubilant.

The townspeople, upon hearing that the eldest grandson of the Minister was taking a bride, came in droves to watch the spectacle and wait for the tossing of lucky coins.

Pei Shaohuai rode on horseback, watching from behind the silhouette of his old playmate and schoolmate, and amid his joy, he felt a surge of deep emotion — when he had first come to know Yancheng, there had been a psychological age gap of over a decade between them, and in his eyes, Yancheng had been nothing more than a child. Through more than ten years of companionship, the change had been gradual and imperceptible, and even Pei Shaohuai himself could not pinpoint when exactly the bond of schoolmates and close friends had quietly grown to transcend the difference in their ages.

The hour was still early, and the wedding procession moved at an unhurried pace, the steady clip-clop of hooves absorbed into the sounds of celebration.

The three of them rode side by side, and Pei Shaohuai felt as though they were back in their schoolroom days — sitting side by side, chins resting in their hands, heads tilted, waiting for the teacher to test their learning.

Such were Pei Shaohuai’s thoughts.

By dusk, the wedding procession arrived before the gates of the Su Mansion, the scene alive with festive commotion. Outside the vermillion gates, at the threshold, upon the steps, and along both sides, the male members of the Su Family and their students stood in an orderly yet lively formation, most dressed in jade-colored robes with wide sleeves — one glance was enough to know this was a household steeped in scholarly tradition.

At the front stood the bride’s brothers and the husbands who had already married into the Su Family, every one of them wearing smiles, eager and ready.

Pei Shaohuai thought to himself that this Miss Su must indeed be greatly cherished at home — his great-nephew Yancheng would have to give a fine showing to win his bride.

Looking at the imposing scene before him, Pei Shaohuai reckoned the Su Family were just short of setting up tables on the spot to test the groom and the groomsmen’s essays on the fly.

Such an elegant form of blocking the bride’s departure both displayed the Su Mansion’s scholarly depth and allowed all present to appreciate the groom’s talent and learning.

The moment the groom dismounted, the Su Family members surged forward merrily, surrounding him and exchanging cheerful banter.

Xu Yancheng’s learning was solid and his responses came readily; moreover, his quick wit produced one clever remark after another, repeatedly drawing roars of laughter from the guests gathered to watch.

For instance, when someone posed him a arithmetic puzzle — asking him to weigh which sachet was heavier and which was lighter — Xu Yancheng did not calculate at all, and simply said: “Never mind right or wrong — at this golden dusk hour, today I seek only the lighter one.” The word for “lighter” in Chinese also sounded like “closer,” meaning he sought only his bride.

His manner was natural, his words delightful.

After several such rounds, Yancheng had shone brilliantly, and the crowd’s attention shifted to the two groomsmen — the brothers of the Pei Family.

The eldest son-in-law of the Su Family stepped forward and proposed they play the poetry chain game, saying: “On this auspicious occasion of a wedding joining two families, shall we take marriage and betrothal as our theme, composing from the Tang and Song poetry canon? Please, honored sir, begin the chain.” To play the poetry chain game using verses of poetry and song lyrics as congratulatory words was most fitting for the occasion.

The moment Pei Shaohuai heard this, he turned to look at his younger brother — and as it happened, his younger brother was looking back at him at that very instant. The two exchanged a knowing smile.

With Shaojin as their trump card, there was nothing to fear in a poetry chain game.

Pei Shaohuai thought it better not to bring Shaojin forward just yet, so he stepped up himself and said: “In reply — from the Song Dynasty, Zhao Bi’s ‘Congratulations to the Groom’: ‘A celestial match joined across a thousand li, joyfully the raft first enters the path of the Silver River.'”

He exchanged four or five rounds with the Su Family’s son-in-law without the slightest sign of falling behind.

Seeing that Pei Shaohuai had stepped forward on his own, the Su Family assumed he was the one with the greatest command of verse and had taken the initiative to “meet the challenge.” They began to clamor and jest, calling for the other groomsman to take a turn.

Yancheng laughed and asked: “Do you truly wish to switch?”

“Yes, bring the other one forward — let us have a contest!”

“Ha — you had better not go back on your word.”

So the Su Family’s son-in-law proposed another round: “On this auspicious and lucky day, after the snow has cleared and the sky turned bright, let us take ‘snow’ and ‘clear’ as our theme — please, honored sir, begin the chain.”

Pei Shaojin stepped forward, clasped his hands behind his back, and began his replies at an unhurried, measured pace.

Pei Shaohuai, Xu Yancheng, and Xu Yangui stood to one side and quietly watched as Shaojin displayed his remarkable talent — the man before them was a walking treasury of Tang and Song verse.

Having memorized so many allusions and references, what were a few poems and song lyrics to him?

Yangui whispered: “Uncle Huai, you might want to step in and stop Uncle Jin after a bit…”

“Yes, yes…”

Only his voice was heard: “Tang — Li Bai: ‘A single vine path winds green, ten thousand peaks of snow stand clear under bright skies’… Song — Yang Wanli: ‘Three thousand realms in silver white, ten thousand folds of jade forest’…” [1]

He went on and on, citing more than a dozen verses without pause.

Those who had come to block the procession stood dumbfounded — was the poetry chain game not supposed to go back and forth, one verse each? This groomsman had not given them a single chance to open their mouths.

The Su Family, now aware they faced two exceptional scholars, changed their approach and asked Pei Shaohuai to compose a congratulatory verse for his friend on the spot.

Pei Shaohuai paced about, recalling the thoughts that had come to him earlier as he watched Yancheng’s silhouette, and the words came naturally: “Recalling days past, through cold winters and shared studies, together we gazed upon the ten-li lake’s gleaming light. Now adorned in gold thread and the fragrance of osmanthus, this morning sees a double joy come to fruition.”

When tested with an examination-style opening line — “His fame rang out to the heavens” — Shaohuai responded: “A gentleman of broad learning — in human nature, none surpasses the pursuit of virtue; in the reach of moral transformation, nothing falls short.”

When given “Thinking of Wen, the Lord of Millet,” he answered: “Culture and governance, the sagelike virtue unified with Heaven, the hearts of the people unified with principle.” [2]

Every response, in just a few phrases, was precise and perfectly suited — and since most of the Su Family’s guests were men of learning, they could not help but “defect” and burst into applause and acclamation.

Even impromptu essay responses were this formidable — it was only at this moment that the Su Family realized the two groomsmen Yancheng had brought were scholars of exceptional caliber, no ordinary students.

Watching Shaohuai and Shaojin respond with effortless eloquence and drawing cheers all around, Xu Yancheng seemed almost like a spectator enjoying the excitement, his expression taking on the air of someone watching a lively show. As the auspicious hour drew near and the blocking of the procession had run its course, the three of them answered each final challenge in turn and successfully entered the Su Mansion.

Little Yangui remained behind to distribute lucky coins, sharing the festive joy with everyone.

With the older brother and both uncles gone inside, little Yangui waited outside, and the students who had been blocking the procession earlier crowded around him, asking about the identities of those two groomsmen — how could men so young possess such mature and profound learning?

Yangui replied simply: “First-place graduates.”

The crowd understood at once — so these were the two young men who had placed first in this year’s autumn provincial examinations, the eighteen-year-old top graduates. No wonder they were so remarkable.

Someone then asked: “Which one of them is the top graduate?”

Yangui replied: “Not one of them — both of them.”

“Both?”

“The one on the left is a top graduate, and the one on the right is also a top graduate.”

The crowd was briefly dazed, then erupted in amazement followed by understanding, regretting that the challenges they had prepared were far too simple. Two top provincial graduates had accompanied the second-place graduate of the same examination to welcome the bride — what sort of blocking game could possibly have stopped them?

Inside the Su Mansion, the female guests in the inner courtyard listened to the clamor from outside, and the noblewomen began discussing who the two groomsmen might be and which family they belonged to. They also praised the Su Mansion for its good judgment in having chosen so early a match from the Xu Family — a family of upright conduct, whose son had already placed second in the provincial examinations at merely eighteen years of age, and whose close associates were all men of learning.

Such family background and values, such character and talent — his future prospects could not be brighter.

As the evening sun descended, the Xu Family’s wedding procession made its return to the Xu Mansion, the new bride in their midst. The wedding welcome ceremony was complete.

Inside the inner chambers of the Yang Mansion, a young woman sat before her dressing table, holding a bronze mirror but not looking at her own reflection, lost in a distant daze.

Listening through the courtyard wall, his voice was warm yet not insubstantial — its appeal lay not merely in its tone, but in the measured, unhurried cadence with which he spoke, each sentence flowing naturally in its rise and turn, its connection and conclusion, easy and pleasant to the ear.

Only a voice shaped by genuine talent and learning could produce such a quality.

It was like a light breeze drifting past the window and brushing gently across one’s ear.

At this thought, Yang Shiyue felt the tips of her ears burn hotly, yet she could not help but recall that distant silhouette —

The wedding procession had departed; his willow-green robe had swayed as he rode his fine horse, following the procession away.

She had glimpsed his slender, upright figure, and caught a view of his profile — but just as he seemed to sense her gaze and turned his head abruptly in her direction, Yang Shiyue’s hand had involuntarily let go, and the window curtain had swayed closed, concealing her figure.

And concealing her view — she had not managed to see his full face and features.

The more Yang Shiyue felt she had been far too bold, the more she tried to pull her thoughts back — yet her fingers moved without her awareness, clicking open the latch of her jewelry box. She drew out the small drawer, and inside, a gold frog inlaid with a lotus-leaf agate jade hairpin lay quietly within. Yang Shiyue only gazed at it without taking it out.

She understood that her mother had her best interests at heart, which was why she had accepted the family’s arrangements without question — she had never imagined she could be so unguarded…

A knock at the door broke through her reverie. Yang Shiyue gave a slight start and quickly pushed the drawer closed, latching it shut again.

A maidservant pushed open the door and entered, carrying a new set of garments in her arms, and said: “Miss, the white silk padded jacket for the Lantern Festival gathering is ready. The Madam has asked that it be brought for you to try on, to see if any alterations are needed.”

The Lantern Festival — when the flower markets blazed bright as day, and the city lifted its night curfew.

The Fanyuan Garden would also be hosting a lantern gathering.

In recent days, the Earl’s Mansion had seen one joyous occasion after another, and there had been an air of harmony and celebration throughout.

Once the eighth day of the twelfth month had passed, the new year was practically upon them. Lin Shi was managing all the large and small matters of the household’s new year preparations, and seeing the several small courtyards standing empty and quiet, she felt a pang of melancholy. She said to Concubine Shen: “All the girls have been married off — the courtyard feels just like one’s heart, empty and hollow.”

“Who could say otherwise,” Concubine Shen replied. “Though they are all still within the capital city, it is still not the same as having them here in the mansion.”

Fortunately, all had married into good families.

Lin Shi glanced over at the courtyards of the two young masters and smiled: “Once the two of them have also taken brides, this household will be livelier again.”

Taking this opportunity, Lin Shi consulted with Concubine Shen: “Shaojin has feelings for Miss Lu — what are your thoughts?” As the mistress of the household, the management of the concubine-born son’s marriage was in her hands, yet she still wished to ask Concubine Shen’s opinion.

Concubine Shen replied: “I defer entirely to the Madam’s arrangements.” The implication of her words was that she also welcomed this match.

With a gentle smile, Concubine Shen added: “Though, there is no great urgency regarding Shaojin’s marriage… Propriety demands that the elder come before the younger — his elder brother’s marriage has yet to be settled; would it not be overstepping bounds and breaking the proper order to proceed ahead of him?”

Shaohuai’s marriage would need to be decided first before Shaojin’s could be raised.

Lin Shi explained: “It is not a matter of formally proposing marriage just yet — only of paying a visit beforehand, to let the Lu Family understand our intentions, so that any misunderstandings do not arise and hinder the children’s match.”

In this world, marriages of sons and daughters were decided by their parents. If the Pei Family, as the young man’s side, did not take the initiative to express their intentions early enough, why should the young woman’s family wait indefinitely for their son? Once a girl reached marriageable age, her parents had every reason not to hold out.

The Lu Family’s standing was by no means low.

Lin Shi continued: “Shaojin has just earned the top rank in the provincial examination — his reputation is at its height. This is precisely the right moment to call upon them.”

Then, turning the matter over in her mind, she thought: not only did Shaojin need to make their intentions clear to the Lu Family, but Shaohuai also ought to make a move toward the Yang Family.

Fortunately, after the new year would come the Lantern Festival.