Now that Pei Bingyuan had already set out from Taicang Prefecture, he would be back in the capital within a month or so. On the Earl’s Residence side, an auspicious date had been chosen and preparations were underway.

The ceremonies of presenting betrothal gifts, inquiring about the name, and confirming the auspicious match had all been completed. Only the formal betrothal presentation remained before the wedding date could be set.

The formal betrothal presentation — the offering of betrothal gifts.

Lin Shi temporarily deferred the betrothal presentation and kept Pei Shaohuai in suspense: “Your father will be back in the capital very soon. There is no hurry — we can present the betrothal gifts after he returns home.”

The betrothal gifts had been prepared well in advance: a full one hundred and eighty-eight carrying cases. In recent days, Lin Shi had gone over them several times, and had even had them all lifted and carried through the courtyard in a procession to check whether they were substantial enough, afraid that the gifts might appear too modest.

There were gold, silver, and jeweled ornaments; there were silks and satins and brocades; nearly half had been specially brought back from Taicang Prefecture the previous year. The number of cases was fixed by convention and could not exceed the prescribed limit, so every effort had been put into the variety and quality of the contents, with each item carefully selected.

Lin Shi said to her son, “Simply because you achieved the Zhuangyuan and earned yourself a great name does not mean the betrothal gifts can be light.” Recalling how warmly Madam Yang had regarded the Pei family from the very beginning, Lin Shi now felt an equal obligation to show them proper respect in return.

“Your child understands.”

It was only when Pei Bingyuan returned that Pei Shaohuai learned why his mother had deferred the betrothal presentation — she had specially arranged for Pei Bingyuan to bring back several branches of red coral trees on the ship with him.

Lin Shi selected two branches that were symmetrical and lustrous, had them mounted on jade-quality bases, and with great satisfaction placed them into the first carrying case of betrothal gifts.

Pei Bingyuan had come a long and dusty road. Upon arriving home, his first act was to enter the ancestral hall and stand before the “Sanyuan Jidi” plaque, gazing up at it for a long while. There was no burst of emotion or tears of age — only a deepened sense of release.

He had passed the county examination at sixteen, and for more than twenty years thereafter had stumbled and struggled. The achievements and glory he had longed for with aching eyes — his eldest son had reclaimed them at the age of eighteen.

He was grateful that he himself had not continued to stumble and waste his years.

A few days later, the Earl’s Residence made a full and grand procession, with gongs and drums sounding all the way, as the one hundred and eighty-eight laden carrying cases were carried to the Yang family’s residence for the betrothal presentation. With the lantern-bearers, sign-bearers, and several bands of musicians added to the procession, the full five or six city blocks could barely contain the entire parade.

Those among the nobility who knew their worth quickly did the calculations in their minds — betrothal gifts this weighty and well-appointed would be impressive even by the standards of a ducal or marquis household. It was only now that they belatedly understood: the Pei family was no longer the barely presentable Earl’s Residence of twenty years ago.

After the betrothal presentation was complete, Lin Shi had the birth characters of the two children sent to have their fortune told, and the wedding date was settled.

At the capital’s harbor, as the morning sun rose with the tide, reeds grew thick but could not conceal the immense thousand-ton ship.

The great ship stretched some fifteen or sixteen zhang in length and seven or eight zhang in breadth, narrow at the keel and broad at the deck, with a high prow and a raised stern — towering like a great hall upon the water. At that early hour, as dawn barely broke, the ship’s upper quarters blazed with lights that mingled with the rosy morning glow.

No matter how the wind rose and the waves stirred at the harbor, the great ship did not shift in the slightest.

Heavy troops stood guard all around.

Officials from the Ministry of War and the Ministry of Works stood together at the harbor dock, awaiting the arrival of the Emperor. Pei Shaohuai had come together with his father and was standing in the line of attendants.

After the Emperor arrived, the sight of the newly constructed thousand-ton ship brought a visible joy to his face. After the assembled officials had paid their respects, before Minister Zhang had even finished his formal recitation, the Emperor waved a hand to stop him and walked directly up the gangway to board the great ship.

The officials followed.

The Emperor was not unfamiliar with thousand-ton ships — Da Qing’s largest warships were nearly three thousand tons. His delight was because Jiangnan had gained yet another new shipyard capable of constructing thousand-ton ships.

Without shipyards, there could be no great ships. Without great ships, how could there be any talk of opening the seas?

The Emperor examined the ship from top to bottom and end to end, looking at the sails, looking at the masts, looking at the pre-fitted cannon port openings, and even laying his hands on the ship’s wheel and giving it a few test turns, then asked, “How has the Ministry of Works assessed the quality of this ship?”

The Minister of Works stepped forward. Though inwardly displeased, he dared not create a scene before the Emperor, and reported truthfully: “Your Majesty, the keel sits straight and firm, and the shipbuilding craftsmanship is of the highest order. This vessel is fit for ocean voyages and combat.”

“Mm.”

The Emperor still felt his curiosity unsatisfied, and on a sudden impulse announced that he wished to go below decks to inspect the ship’s structure.

The officials could not stop him.

The ship’s hull had been divided into watertight compartments, leaving the passageways narrow — it was not possible for all the officials to follow. The Emperor, catching sight of Pei Shaohuai among the attendants, selected him to come along, saying, “I am told by Minister Zhang that you once witnessed the entire process of shipbuilding at the Taicang Shipyard. Today you will explain the ship’s structure to me.”

“Your subject obeys.”

Fortunately, Pei Shaohuai had genuinely observed the shipbuilding process firsthand. Otherwise he would have let down whatever private words of recommendation Minister Zhang had offered.

In the narrow passageway below decks, Pei Shaohuai found he was too tall and had to walk with a slight stoop. He kept close behind the Emperor and shielded him to prevent him from bumping his head.

“You need not be so tense,” the Emperor said, turning to reassure Pei Shaohuai. “Simply tell me what you know, and I will listen.” He gave Pei Shaohuai a light pat on the shoulder.

In the natural dynamic between ruler and subject, the Emperor was gradually growing familiar with Pei Shaohuai, and Pei Shaohuai likewise.

Pei Shaohuai’s mind eased considerably. Moving from the large to the small, from the primary to the secondary, he gave a thorough account of the ship’s main keel and watertight compartments, explained what should be done in the event of hull damage, at what capacity of cargo the ship traveled fastest, and so on — he explained right down to how the seams between the partitions were caulked to prevent water ingress.

Something about Pei Shaohuai seemed to draw the Emperor’s attention, for the Emperor kept his gaze on him as he listened, his expression gradually revealing a look of quiet appreciation.

“You explained that very well — I’ve learned a great deal today,” the Emperor said, and then added with feeling, “Young people like you who take the initiative to get their hands dirty and experience things in practice — they are rare.”

“Your Majesty is too gracious,” Pei Shaohuai replied. “It is this subject’s belief that the technical arts passed down through generations are not only a matter of hand skills but also…”

Pei Shaohuai paused briefly and chose different words: “They are also a form of wisdom.”

The Emperor smiled and on his own initiative named what Pei Shaohuai had been about to say: “Worthy subject, you were about to say they are also a form of learning, were you not?”

To speak of craftsmen’s skills and the learning of the sages in the same breath was a grave impropriety — even for the Emperor to say such a thing, he had to be careful that no pedantic traditionalist was within earshot, or another stack of memorials would follow.

“You need not answer. I understand what you mean.”

With those words, the Emperor stepped onto the ladder ahead of him and returned to the main deck.

Now that the great ship was complete, it was time to recognize and reward those responsible. Both the Ministry of War and Pei Bingyuan had contributed greatly and would naturally receive their share. The Emperor said he also wished to give Pei Shaohuai a reward, and asked, “What shall I grant you?”

Pei Shaohuai could hardly put himself forward to claim credit. Fortunately, Minister Zhang stepped in to smooth things over, and with a smile said to the Emperor, “Your Majesty, our young Compiler Pei is about to be married. Would it not be fitting to present him with a court robe as a token of congratulations?”

Pei Shaohuai was young and already held two concurrent posts — there was already no small amount of murmuring at court. Any substantial reward at this moment would not be appropriate. A single garment was just right.

“Well said.” The Emperor replied without hesitation: “By our verbal decree: bestow one crimson qilin-embroidered robe. The Ministry of Rites to oversee the matter.”

“Your subject is grateful for His Majesty’s gracious bestowment.”

Two months later, in early autumn, with the wedding day drawing near, the court at last delivered the finished crimson robe embroidered in gold with the qilin pattern, over the shoulders, front and back.

Also included were a single-top black gauze hat and a gold-wrapped leather belt.

On the day of the wedding, Pei Shaohuai would wear this robe when he went to the Yang residence to receive his bride.

“Quickly put it on and try it.” Lin Shi urged joyfully.

As it was intended for a wedding, the robe had been made in the bridal style — deep crimson, with a round collar and broad sleeves over an inner lining of plain white, with five-colored crashing sea waves and cliff-rock patterns embroidered along the hem.

Unlike the square rank badge on an ordinary official robe, the upper portion was embroidered in gold thread with a qilin, an auspicious creature with a dragon’s head, a deer’s body, and golden scales, treading clouds and arcing over the shoulder from behind, winding around front and back, with the qilin’s head positioned at the chest. The embroidered layers overlapped without the slightest confusion, the red robe and gold embroidery at once festive and dignified.

The qilin robe was the fourth-grade court robe; above it were the bull-fighting robe, the flying-fish robe, and the python robe — the python robe ranked directly below the dragon robe itself, the highest tier of embroidered pattern.

Pei Shaohuai was in his usual manner a modest and scholarly young man, but dressed today in the qilin brocade, he somehow carried an added air of distinction — ordinarily in his teal scholar’s robe he was as luminous and graceful as jade in the wind, yet now the crimson robe set off the sharp angles of his jaw and his upright bearing, lending him a cool and striking presence.

When he smiled, it was bright and unrestrained.

“Mother — how does it look?” Pei Shaohuai asked.

“Good, very good…” Gazing at the handsome young man before her, dressed in his brocade finery and looking so much more grown, Lin Shi found herself recalling scenes from his past, and tears welled up unbidden. “Mother is weeping for joy…”

Lin Shi wiped her tears and smiled: “Mother thinks of how, in all these years of raising a child, it was no easy thing — yet looking back now, it feels as though only a moment has passed, and with that feeling, the tears come. She watched him grow up little by little, one step at a time, yet today it feels as though time swept past in a blur, and suddenly her son has grown up and is about to take a wife.

Then she said, “Mother is only expressing a feeling. Now take the robe off quickly so I can tighten a few stitches.”

“To have caused Mother such worry.”

Over in the Yang residence, Yang Shiyue heard that Pei Shaohuai had received the imperially bestowed qilin robe, and so she added embroidered cloud patterns along the front panels and cuffs of her own red robe to complement it.

By custom, Yang Shiyue’s wedding garments were a true-red cross-collar wide-sleeved upper robe and a deep-red pleated skirt, made of woven-gold double-happiness and lotus-blossom figured satin. Only noblewomen of official rank were permitted to wear the python design, so she could only embroider her collars, cuffs, shoulders, and other areas with auspicious flowering branches and vine tendrils.

The cloud-shoulder collar was of green gauze with gold embroidery, bearing patterns of clouds, rosy mists, and practicing magpies, with silver flower-tipped gold pendants hanging from each end.

With slender fingers guiding the needle, Yang Shiyue carefully finished the last stitch, made a hidden knot, and cut the thread.

A maid came in to report: “Miss, the eldest young master has come.”

Yang Shiyue set down the finished wedding garments and replied, “Ask him to wait a moment in the outer hall. I will be there shortly.”

Yang Shiyue and Yang Xiangyuan were twins born on the same day, so their bond was naturally very close. Pei Shaohuai had barely stepped out into the outer hall when Yang Xiangyuan was already eagerly beckoning her over: “Little sister, come quickly and look at the blocking questions I have prepared. Tell me what you think.”

He handed her a few sheets of paper.

Yang Xiangyuan continued, “I discussed this at length with a few of the clan uncles and elder cousins before we came up with these questions.” He looked rather pleased with himself.

All in preparation for “making things difficult” for his future brother-in-law on the day of the wedding reception procession.

Yang Shiyue read through them, returned the papers to her brother, and smiled without saying anything.

“Little sister thinks the questions are not difficult enough?”

“It is not that the questions are not difficult enough,” Yang Shiyue replied. “It is that he is already a Sanyuan Jidi — what need is there to test him with questions like these? In other words, would that not be playing right into his hands?”

Yang Xiangyuan slapped his thigh, suddenly enlightened: “Quite right — how did I not think of that? These questions truly cannot stump him.”

“The blocking procession is just for merriment. Brother, please don’t treat it as a real examination.”

“Yes, yes, I understand.”

Autumn colors gracing a wedding day, the fair weather adding the final red adornments.

On the eve of the procession to receive the bride, the Yang family’s magnificent trousseau was delivered to the Earl’s Residence in a grand procession — carrying case after carrying case of lacquered boxes gilded in gold, streaming with brilliant splendor. The saying “a thousand mu of fertile land and ten miles of red trousseau” would not have been too much to describe the scene.

Chests and boxes of every size and purpose, bedding and furnishings for daily life — nothing was left out of the trousseau.

As the procession passed along the main streets and moved slowly, one could hear repeated calls of “Such-and-such Elder has gifted an additional six cases,” with varying numbers — all contributed by the Yang family’s relatives and protégés. Servants carried in these additional cases and joined them to the procession.

Just as grand as when the Pei family had delivered their betrothal gifts, the Yang family’s trousseau filled the streets in front of the Earl’s Residence, drawing crowds of onlookers to admire and exclaim.

A middle-aged woman from the Yang family — one who had borne both sons and daughters, her face full of good cheer and an air of great efficiency — followed by maids and serving women carrying bedding and furnishings, also bearing longans, red dates, lotus seeds, and other dried fruits, was promptly escorted by the Pei household into the bridal chamber.

The woman announced with a cheerful smile: “Lay the mandarin duck pillows side by side — may husband and wife love one another for ten thousand years. Now for the bed-spreading and the canopy ceremony—”