A new bride is not permitted to sleep late. Yun Pan had spent a restless night — she woke once at the second watch, and again at the fourth.

Opening her eyes, she saw that the sky outside the window was still dim. The lanterns had burned through the second half of the night, their flames grown faint, leaving the room draped in shadow. She turned her head and looked. The person beside her was sleeping in deep stillness — a man whose temperament was so inward that even his sleep made no display of itself. This was good. As her aunt had once said, to find a husband who shares your bed without fighting in it is itself a stroke of fortune.

So many men out there look perfectly proper in public, yet become something else altogether once the bedroom door is closed. Talking in their sleep all night long, snoring, grinding their teeth like someone chewing dried beans — and worse still, throwing punches and kicks in bed, rolling about in circles — that is the true nightmare of married life.

Yun Pan held her breath and listened carefully for a good while. He slept deeply; he rarely even turned over. Only his cough was unavoidable, yet even that came no more than two or three times through the night, each time suppressed with the same painstaking restraint. The more she noticed this, the more it moved her.

This constitution of his — something would have to be done to nurse it back to health in the future… Yun Pan thought drowsily, and then that languid, sleep-hungry chord in her mind thrummed taut again, ringing out clear and bright.

Just a little more sleep. Just a little while longer, and it would be dawn anyway.

She turned onto her side, carefully tucking her hand beneath her cheek. She felt as though she had only just closed her eyes when she heard footsteps moving along the corridor. When she opened her eyes again, daylight was already washing across the window paper.

Round paper cuttings clung to the windows — magpies perched on branches, cut from red paper — complementing the red silk draped throughout the bedchamber. The capital, like Youzhou, favored understated décor at home; these occasional bursts of vivid color were like a brushstroke of vermilion seal ink on a scroll of black characters and white paper, giving it a graceful, living beauty.

She sat up and glanced back at Li Chenjian. He too had woken, and his deep, dark eyes met hers directly.

Seeing him by daylight felt different from the night before. Yun Pan had always carried a faint sense of reverence toward him — he was gentle enough, yet he produced in people an inexplicable feeling of distance that was difficult to name. You could draw near him, but you could never be presumptuous with him. In other circumstances she might have felt awkward after the brief closeness of the previous night, but for reasons she could not explain, the moment she looked at him, it all seemed like the natural order of heaven and earth, and she felt that she ought to carry herself with a certain ease — she need not be shy and frightened like a child.

He spoke in his usual unhurried tone and asked whether she had slept well.

Yun Pan said she had. The two of them looked at each other, and with nothing more to say, she turned away with a sheepish smile.

He said nothing further either. He rose from the bed, slipped on soft shoes, and walked over to roll up the bamboo curtain before the arched window. A breeze drifted in, stirring the soft fabric of his sleeping robe against his body. He leaned forward slightly to look out at the morning light, and behind him, a banana tree burst with fresh green leaves, framing him perfectly — lending him the air of a man easy and unhurried, like an orchid or a jade tree in the wild.

The maidservants and serving women assigned to morning attendance filed in and began attending to his dressing and washing. Mingke and Ruolan stepped forward to help Yun Pan to the dressing table in the outer room.

This dressing table was larger than any she had used before, with three bronze mirrors joined together, angled so that even her side temples were reflected. Nanny Yao said with a smile: “You can see how thoughtful the household is.” Then she asked, “Did you sleep comfortably last night, Madam?” What she was really asking, of course, was whether the husband and wife had harmonized well together.

Yun Pan hesitated and said it was fine, but she did not produce the wedding kerchief for inspection.

Nanny Yao waited a moment, then, not wishing to press, went into the inner bedchamber to look for it herself. She walked in and found the kerchief lying on the small stand beside the bed — clean and unmarked. Her heart sank. She picked it up, brought it back to Yun Pan, held it out, and asked: “Madam, why is there nothing on the kerchief?”

Yun Pan’s face flushed crimson. She lowered her head. “Last night, there was no…”

Nanny Yao’s mind rang with a dull thud. “How can there be nothing?”

Everyone present was a woman, and the topic was naturally a little awkward for all of them — but none of them could understand why the final and most important ceremony of the night had not taken place.

Yun Pan was deeply flustered, feeling as though she had truly done something wrong. She murmured: “His Grace saw that I was frightened and so…”

Nanny Yao did not know what to say. After a long pause she said: “Madam, your aunt gave you instructions before you left home. How could you forget it all?”

What was to be done now? Even Nanny Yao had no clear course of action. It was impossible to blame Yun Pan — a duchess could hardly be lectured by a servant. But if she was not blamed, this was a matter that concerned the rest of Yun Pan’s life, and the Senior Madam and the Princess Consort were waiting up ahead. How were they to account for this to the elders?

But the thing had already happened, and there was nothing to be done. Seeing that Yun Pan herself was thrown into confusion, Nanny Yao said: “Madam, do not be anxious. We’ll see what His Grace has to say. In the past there have been couples who did not consummate on their wedding night — it truly is not so grave a matter. It can simply be made up for afterward.”

Once Ruolan finished dressing Yun Pan’s hair and Mingke helped her change into her court robe, Yun Pan emerged from the dressing room to find Li Chenjian already waiting in the corridor. He turned and saw her, a warmth settling easily about his eyes and brows, and said in a gentle voice: “Come, I’ll take you to greet Grandmother and Mother.”

Both elder women were widows, and both came from distinguished families, so naturally they set great store by proper conduct. Nanny Yao had already explained in careful detail the etiquette for greeting one’s parents-in-law before the ceremony — it was not especially complicated. One needed to be observant of their expressions and moods, and to be quick-witted, not dull and wooden. As a rule, elders would not deliberately make things difficult, since they too wished to appear virtuous and magnanimous; they could be strict, but they could not be seen by outsiders as cruel.

When they arrived at the front hall of the main courtyard, a serving woman brought forward a ceremonial bamboo basket containing red dates and chestnuts, covered with a cloth of brocaded silk — the gifts a new bride was expected to present when meeting her parents-in-law.

As the Prince of Liang had passed away long ago, a memorial tablet was placed on the eastern cushion. Yun Pan presented the basket before the tablet, and she and Li Chenjian together made their bows.

Princess Consort Liang was seated on the eastern cushion, watching this newly arrived daughter-in-law with a continuous smile. She had heard so much from Hui Cun about how the new sister-in-law had given her the Qiankun walnut, and Hui Cun had praised the new sister-in-law endlessly — and so the Princess Consort had been full of anticipation for Yun Pan’s arrival.

Seeing her now, the Princess Consort thought: her every movement and gesture truly bears the manner of a great family’s daughter. It was clear that the Yuyang County Mistress had raised her well.

As for earlier — when the engagement had been made to the Duke of Shuguo’s legitimate daughter, the Princess Consort, though she said nothing, had been deeply anxious inside. What mother-in-law in the world does not assess her future daughter-in-law? The very fact that this young woman had never once appeared at the Golden Pheasant Banquet, that all the noble ladies of the capital had only seen her when she was five or six years old — that alone had made the Princess Consort feel that something was terribly wrong. She feared her son was about to be greatly wronged.

Marriage — and especially a legitimate marriage — was no small matter. It bore upon the honor of the entire family and on the descendants to come. To bring in a woman unwilling to be seen by others — what a disaster that would be! A man already labored hard enough navigating official circles; the least his wife could do was not cause him worry. If she could not help him cultivate connections among colleagues’ households, fine — but at the very least, she should not add to his burdens. Surely that was not too much to ask!

But the match had been arranged in earlier years by the Senior Madam and the Grand Princess, and as a daughter-in-law she had not dared to voice any objection. Still, she had been genuinely dissatisfied and unhappy about it. Then word came down from the palace that the girl had been changed — she was now a cousin on the maternal side, said to be deft and dignified in appearance, and skilled at navigating social occasions. At last the Princess Consort was satisfied. She thought to herself: now my son has something to hope for — a capable wife can give a man wings.

As for whether the new bride might be a spy planted by the Empress Dowager — that was not especially important to her. What came had come; whatever the circumstances, there was always this kind of risk no matter whom one married. To welcome a lively, spirited wife was a hundred times better than one who never saw the light of day. Besides, the tangled mess within the household of Ji Fu, Marquis Kaiguo, was in itself the best protection. Jiang Heng was nothing like Xiang Jujie, who had once commanded armies; the more mediocre the family of one’s in-laws, the less likely they were to implicate one’s son in the Emperor’s suspicions. In these turbulent times, nothing was safer than keeping a low profile.

Now the new bride had arrived. The Princess Consort smiled warmly as she watched her, while Hui Cun beside her nudged her mother with an elbow, as if to say: Mother, you see? I told you the new sister-in-law was wonderful.

Princess Consort Liang watched Yun Pan present the basket with respectful ceremony, and reached out to receive it in acknowledgment. Ji Fu and his new bride knelt before her side by side — what a truly perfect pair, the Princess Consort thought with the joy a mother feels at having her children gathered at her knees. When they bowed down before her, she quickly told them to rise. “From this day on, we are family. May you be devoted to each other and grow old together.”

So many beautiful wishes heaped upon them at once, conferring a quiet, steadying force.

Yun Pan pressed both hands to her forehead and bowed down again. The Princess Consort laughed and called to her son: “Son, quickly — help your wife up!”

Li Chenjian reached out to assist her. His slender, strong wrists were the hands of a man.

Seizing the moment, Hui Cun called out sweetly: “A’Jie!” Yun Pan turned to look at her — a girl of delicate, radiant beauty, a princess raised in comfort and privilege, with a natural air of refinement in her eyes and brows.

She said: “The Qiankun walnut you sent me — I’ve kept it safe, and I love it dearly. It’s only a pity I had no chance to thank you in person.”

Yun Pan smiled faintly. “The rouge you sent me — I’ve kept that too.” She tilted her cheek ever so slightly. “I’m wearing it today, as a matter of fact.”

Between girls, forming a friendship seemed the simplest thing — one glance was enough to know whether you got along, and whether you could live harmoniously together.

For now, though, there was no time for further conversation. The moment for Yun Pan to show her filial devotion had come. She took the silver basin Nanny Yao brought forward and helped her mother-in-law wash her hands. Then an attendant carried the food table before the Princess Consort, and Yun Pan served her mother-in-law’s food and drink. This was, of course, largely a gesture — the Princess Consort took a single bite and set down her chopsticks. The newly married couple were then to eat what remained on the plate, expressing their gratitude for their parents’ grace and their reverence for their elders.

With that, all the ceremonial formalities had been completed. The Princess Consort asked Yun Pan with a smile: “Was everything last night as it should be?”

At this, Yun Pan faltered, and her cheeks and neck together blazed with heat.

The Princess Consort assumed it was simply shyness, and was just about to offer some reassuring words, when Li Chenjian spoke: “Mother.” He paused. “My old ailment came back last night and troubled me, and I’m afraid I kept Bai Bai up attending to me all night. I truly feel terrible about it.”

The moment these words were out, Nanny Yao standing nearby let out a long, quiet breath of relief.

At last the gentleman had shown his thoughtfulness. A single sentence from the Duke of Weiguo was worth ten thousand words from the young lady herself. A man who had the heart to protect his wife and the sense to take the blame upon himself — this was the beginning of a harmonious household. It was a great fortune that the young lady had found such a man, one of true and weighty character, someone worthy of her trust and reliance. Had the situation been otherwise — burdened with a father like hers, and a household with no proper order — if she were then to suffer wrongdoing in her husband’s family, her uncle and aunt, however deeply they loved her, would ultimately have little leverage.

As for the Princess Consort, she was not especially concerned with whether they had consummated — her one true worry was her son’s health, and she pressed him: “Did the cough come back? Is the old injury still causing you pain?”

Li Chenjian shook his head and said there was nothing seriously wrong. “I’ve simply been exhausted lately. Two days of rest and I’ll be fine.”

“And well you should be,” the Princess Consort said. “I said it myself — with the wedding so close, why not stay in the capital and tend to your affairs in peace? Yet you insisted on rushing off to Xizhou, a journey of three or four hundred li there and back at a furious pace. How could that not take a toll on your body?” Still, she felt a pang of guilt for having kept Yun Pan waiting, and even for herself as a mother-in-law there was a sense of having failed the girl. Certain instructions, however, could not be omitted, and so she said gently: “The ceremony must still be carried out, otherwise the two of you cannot truly be called husband and wife. Our family line has always struggled for male heirs. I am still waiting for you both to add members to this family, so that I might live to enjoy the delight of grandchildren at my knees.”

After taking a daughter-in-law, one naturally longed for grandchildren to come soon. Yun Pan could hardly respond to this, so Li Chenjian filled the silence beside her, declaring with a clear voice that they would.

Hui Cun still thought as a child, and she suddenly had a new idea. She tugged at Yun Pan and said: “A’Jie, when you have the time, make a little baby inside one of the walnuts! It would be so novel, and the meaning would be wonderful.”

Princess Consort Liang laughed and chided her: “Your sister-in-law has only just entered the family. Where would she find the time to carve walnuts? You — you only ever think about playing. Rein yourself in a little. A few more months and it will be your own time to leave home.” She then rose and gestured to them all. “Let us go to the Mao Garden. We mustn’t keep the Senior Madam waiting.”

The Mao Garden had formerly been called the Shouson Garden — when the Prince of Liang first built this residence, he had set it apart as a retreat, specially prepared to receive Noble Consort Hu from the palace when she came to rest and convalesce in her old age. The garden was spacious, with artificial hills and a stream running through it — a fine and pleasant place for tranquil living. After the current Emperor ascended the throne, Noble Consort Hu had lived here for twenty years, until the Prince of Liang passed away and the residence was renamed the Duke of Weiguo’s Manor. The Shouson Garden was renamed along with it, and became what it was known as today: the Mao Garden.

The late Emperor and her son had both departed from this world. What was the use of living on so long herself? Better to rename it Mao Garden — may the descendants flourish and prosper for ten thousand generations. That was the Senior Madam’s only wish.

Compared to Empress Dowager Zhang in the palace, Madam Hu had lost in the struggle for the throne, yet in the matter of descendants she had prevailed. She had a grandson; in time there would be great-grandchildren. As for Empress Dowager Zhang — she had wealth and status and honor, but no bloodline to carry anything forward. In the end even this country would pass into other hands. A moment of triumph, then, was not sufficient to sustain the hopelessness of a Empress Dowager with no progeny.

The Senior Madam breathed a long sigh and sat in the seat of honor in the main hall, watching the new bride walk in with Ji Fu along the central path. In her exacting eyes, this girl’s appearance was acceptable — arched brows and full cheeks, a look of good fortune about her — only a little too slight and slender. With proper nourishment in time, she would measure up well enough.

Princess Consort Liang came forward and said: “Come, pay your respects to your grandmother.” Serving women set down a brocade cushion, and Yun Pan, supported by a maidservant, knelt before the Senior Madam and received a bowl of lily tea from the serving woman, presenting it upward: “Please, Grandmother, have some tea.”

The Senior Madam did not reach out to take it. She simply studied Yun Pan’s posture and bearing, watching to see how she would respond.

Had this been an ordinary girl, when the elder made no move to accept, she would have grown uneasy, afraid she had done something wrong, that she was failing to please the elder. Anxiety leads to mistakes, and mistakes would lead her to look to her husband for rescue — that would be most inadvisable.

But this girl did nothing of the sort. She held the tea cup steadily aloft, her wide sleeves falling back to her elbows, baring a pair of arms as white and smooth as fine jade. Her wrists were slender, yet not a tremor ran through them. The Senior Madam lowered her eyes to the tea cup — the surface of the tea was completely still, without the slightest ripple. At last she was satisfied. She accepted the lily tea and lowered her head to take a sip.

Only at that moment did Yun Pan’s heart settle back into place. Nanny Yao had warned her beforehand that in a household of such splendor, the first thing they looked at was a new bride’s conduct and bearing. This marriage in particular had been arranged by the Empress Dowager, and the Senior Madam was certain to be especially particular, so one must be careful in even the smallest details — only then could one pass the test without alarm.

The Senior Madam had drunk the tea. This meant she had at least accepted the marriage. Of course, the admonitions that followed were also unavoidable.

The Senior Madam handed the tea cup to Nanny Wei at her side and spoke with gravity: “From this day forward, you are the principal woman of the Prince of Liang’s line. As a wife, you are to be respectful and obedient to your husband. As a daughter-in-law, you are to be filial and devoted to your elders. As a sister-in-law, you are to be kind and affectionate toward your husband’s younger sister. You come from a distinguished family, so I trust these things require no reminder from me. Ji Fu sustained an injury on the training grounds in his younger years; on cold or rainy days, you must take special care of him. When a girl is in her parents’ home, she is precious beyond measure. Once she has established her own household, she is the mistress of the house. We of the older generation now depend entirely on the two of you. The future glory of this family rests with you. Keep my words in your heart.”

Yun Pan said yes, and bowed down again. “Your granddaughter-in-law will remember the Senior Madam’s teachings.”

The Senior Madam nodded and gestured for the attendants to help Yun Pan rise, then turned to advise Li Chenjian: “You have gone to great effort to bring this woman into the household. No matter what flowery temptations may exist out in the world, you must always respect and treasure your first wife. Remember — a man’s strength lies in his flesh and blood, but a woman’s strength lies in her bones and sinew. You may appear glorious and impressive in the eyes of the world, but without a capable mistress of the inner household, this family will fall apart and be laughed at by all.”

There was a deeper meaning behind these words — they were in part an allusion to the Marquis Kaiguo’s household. By now it was common knowledge throughout the court and in society that Jiang Heng governed his household without discipline and had nearly let his own legitimate daughter be lost. To raise this now was to give the new bride a quiet warning: since her family home was in disarray, she herself must learn to manage her husband’s family well. The Marquis Kaiguo’s household was a cautionary example — one must not let this family follow the same path.

Li Chenjian understood perfectly the meaning in his grandmother’s words. Not wishing to cause Yun Pan embarrassment, he took the opportunity to say: “Grandmother’s words, your grandson will keep in his heart always. My wife is young, and there will inevitably be things she does not do perfectly. I will have her come to you in all matters to seek your guidance, and then she cannot go wrong.”

The Senior Madam actually laughed at this. “There you go, pouring sweet words into my ears again. At my age, if she had to come and consult me in everything, how would I bear it! I say this now, but you need not flatter me. Simply live your lives well, and we elders will be at ease.”

She turned and asked Princess Consort Liang: “Have you seen it?”

The Princess Consort naturally had to cover for them, and said yes: “Everything has been seen to. I offer the Senior Madam my congratulations.”

And so everything was settled. The Senior Madam said with a smile: “Originally I had planned to hold a banquet before your wedding, to invite the family of the bride’s father and the Duke of Shuguo and his wife to gather here. But then Ji Fu went to Xizhou, and when he returned there was all the preparation for the wedding banquet, and the matter was postponed. Now that the main ceremony is complete and everyone’s mind can be at ease, we should choose a date and set two tables in the Fang Residence Garden — first to host the family of the bride’s father, and second to express gratitude to the Duke of Chenguo and the colleagues who worked so hard on our behalf. I think this would be excellent.”

Li Chenjian smiled. “That was my intention as well. Since Grandmother has given the word, I will send out invitations tomorrow. However, the Fang Residence Garden’s reputation does not quite match that of the Banlou. It would be better to hold the banquet at the Banlou — their food is fashionable, and it is more convenient for guests to come and go. What does Grandmother think?”

The Senior Madam had no particular opinion on the venue. She only recalled that when the late Emperor was alive, he had been especially fond of the Jade Marrow Wine and the Taizhen Cake at the Fang Residence Garden. Who would have thought that after all these years, even the Fang Residence Garden was no longer what it once was. This was indeed the nature of things — even the most magnificent must eventually decline.

“Then let it be the Banlou!” the Senior Madam said with a smile. “I haven’t gone out in a long time either. It will be good to go outside and enjoy some different fare. I’ve grown tired of the food at home.”

Li Chenjian said yes, and after a few more exchanges of conversation with the Senior Madam, he brought Yun Pan out from the Mao Garden.

The manor had a very large garden. A covered walkway of wooden pillars curved around it, so that standing beneath the eaves one could see the full beauty of the garden without stepping into the sun.

Yun Pan was still wondering: was it because she had mentioned the Banlou last night that he intended today to hold the banquet there?

The figure ahead of her, in his wide-sleeved, light-robed elegance, seemed to sense what she was thinking. He turned his head and looked back at her, his eyes carrying a hint of amusement. He said with mild surprise: “No need to wait any longer — we’ll be going within a few days. What a coincidence!”