Lanterns lighting up the night, not a moment’s rest for hurrying feet.

The following day was the eldest young master’s wedding reception, and the entire household was busy through the night. Just arranging the young mistress’s trousseau for the guests to view required many hands and a great deal of time.

Pei Shaohuai alone was urged to go to bed early. Lin Shi said, “Tomorrow is your wedding procession. Every little thing is a matter of importance — it will not be an easy day. You must rest well so you have the energy for it.”

Yet Pei Shaohuai lay on his bed and found no sleep coming. The lamplight from outside filtered onto the window paper, and from time to time came the sounds of the household busily at work. Such sights and sounds only stirred his heart all the more.

From tomorrow on, he would move into the bridal chamber and share a roof with his wife. This room would become his study.

Scenes of his time with Yang Shiyue played and replayed in his mind: the loosened hair at the Lantern Festival, the oil-paper umbrella that drifted down to him as he paraded through the streets in triumph, and the bedding that had accompanied him through nine days and nine nights.

When Pei Shaohuai pushed open the window and reached out his hand, the night breeze drifted lightly across his fingertips — just like her dark hair that day, smooth and soft.

Pei Shaohuai reflected that compared to the imperial examinations, he had perhaps been even more fortunate in matters of marriage. He had intended to wait until he was a few years older and simply marry in due course, as custom dictated. But then an arranged meeting had brought him face to face with a young woman whose nature was kindred to his own.

Only then had he understood: matters of the heart do not distinguish between the young and the old — they only distinguish between those who have felt them and those who have not.

Pei Shaohuai lit the lamp, took out the bedding from his trunk, and placed it at his pillow. With a heart full of feelings, it was not until the deep of night that he drifted off to sleep without noticing.

The following day, the Earl’s Residence grew lively. The musicians struck up their instruments and melodies rang out in waves.

Though it would not be until the afternoon that he set out to receive the bride, the morning was already filled from end to end with activity. Pei Shaohuai accompanied his grandfather into the ancestral hall to offer prayers, then paid respects at the clan temple. Meanwhile, his father offered scattered pieces of advice about what to be mindful of during the procession, and his mother led a group of smiling older women who took turns sprinkling water over him with osmanthus branches and then cypress branches, pouring forth an inexhaustible stream of blessings.

It was Shaojin who was “most thoughtful” of all to him — running over from time to time to tell him which pastries were particularly good today, and asking whether Elder Brother would like a taste to tide him over.

Pei Shaohuai “threatened” him: “You had best rein yourself in, Shaojin. It will be your turn before long. I’d like to see whether you’ll be in any mood to eat pastries then.” He would pay back what he owed, sooner or later.

With that bit of teasing from Shaojin, Pei Shaohuai found himself considerably more at ease.

The sisters and brothers-in-law from across the capital had all come early and were helping Lin Shi manage the inside and outside of the house. When they finished and had a moment’s leisure, they gathered around Pei Shaohuai, the whole family speaking at once — first praising how handsome Pei Shaohuai looked, then chatting about recent household matters, warm and cheerful.

“The second brother-in-law and Lan’er should be arriving soon, shouldn’t they?” Lin Shi asked.

Lian Jie’er replied, “Two days ago, Lan’er sent word that they would set off together once her husband finished his duty rotation. They departed yesterday — they should be back by the afternoon at the latest.”

“Good.”

As it turned out, before the shu hour had even ended, the Situ couple and their family arrived — having traveled a full day on the road, yet full of joy.

Situ’er walked in the door and declared before he was fully inside, “I’m late!”

Chen Xingchen teased, “The evening banquet hasn’t even started yet, and second brother-in-law is already talking about punishing himself with three cups?”

Lan Jie’er came behind him, instructing people to carefully unload the gifts they had brought back — mostly rare treasures produced in the northern borderlands. She went over to Lin Shi and said, “Congratulations, Mother. Congratulations, brother. The Earl’s Residence is gaining a new daughter-in-law.” She then had her children, one by one, pay their respects to their elders.

All three children seemed to have inherited Situ’er’s particular gift — though they did not come home often, they bore no sign of awkwardness, but carried themselves openly and naturally, without a trace of unfamiliarity.

At just this moment, Pei Shaohuai happened to emerge from his room, dressed in his round-collared crimson qilin robe. Situ’er made straight for him in two strides, looked him up and down, and exclaimed admiringly, “My, my — Brother Huai, what a magnificent bearing!”

“Second brother-in-law made a special trip back. That must have been a long journey.”

“Not at all.” Situ’er leaned close to Pei Shaohuai and slung an arm over his shoulder, lowering his voice conspiratorially: “I came back especially to shield you from the drinking. At the evening banquet, rest easy — a hundred times over, I’ll make sure you leave the feast still sharp-eyed and clear-headed, so you don’t miss what matters.”

Pei Shaohuai’s ears turned red, and he could only murmur in reply, “Then I am in your hands, brother-in-law.”

“Think nothing of it.”

As the noon hour approached, Pei Shaohuai took a brief moment to eat a few bites, then began tying up his hair, setting his garments in order, putting on his black gauze hat, and fastening the gold-topped hairpin.

What a fine and striking groom.

“The tutor has come,” Shaojin ran over to say.

Pei Shaohuai rose at once and went out to meet him, and saw his eldest brother-in-law pushing Tutor Duan’s wheelchair toward him. The tutor was dressed today in a deep crimson round-collared robe, every corner of the garment folded to a crisp edge, without a single crease, his hair bound up in a green jade crown, and even the two wheels of his wheelchair were spotlessly clean.

He appeared neat and dignified.

The tutor had dressed himself with meticulous care before coming.

“Tutor.”

The tutor had been smiling from the moment he arrived, and it was clear he was in excellent spirits. He teased warmly, “This old man dresses in new finery to celebrate a new beginning. Shaohuai — does this old fellow look presentable today?”

“More than presentable — tutor looks every inch the man of distinction today,” Pei Shaohuai replied.

Yancheng chimed in from the side, “More than distinguished — the tutor is nearly outshining Shaohuai, the groom himself.”

“More than nearly — I’d say he already has,” Shaojin laughed. “Tutor, you must not show favoritism — when it is this student’s turn, you must preside over the wedding as well.”

Yancheng followed along: “This student seconds that.”

Master and students bantered back and forth for a good while, until the tutor laughed and said, “The lot of you tricksters stop your nonsense. The most distinguished and happy one today is the groom.”

He spoke with feeling: “Watching all of you from the time you were young and unlettered, just learning your characters, to when you had made something of your learning — and now each of you establishing your own households and making your way in the world. That is what I call truly distinguished.”

All the old gloom swept away in an instant, leaving only joy this day.

Over at the Yang residence, preparations were underway as well.

Yang Madam hurried into the inner room, found Yang Master, and said with a slight anxious note, “My dear, there is something I let slip through my fingers.”

“What is it?”

Yang Master knew that his wife was ordinarily thorough and careful in everything she did, and seldom made any oversights.

“Last time it was agreed that the principal wedding officiant from the Pei family would be Tutor Duan…”

“Yes, and hasn’t that all been arranged properly?” Yang Master thought his wife was going to bring up the matter of Tutor Duan’s limited mobility.

“Let me finish.” Yang Madam came to the point quickly and said, “It occurred to me suddenly last night to think again about this Tutor Duan, and fearing I might have missed something, I had someone look into it today. It turns out that Tutor Duan is not only the son-in-law’s teacher — he also taught the eldest and second sons of the Xu family, as well as the eldest grandson of the Xu family and the second son of the Pei family. And in the sixth month this year, the youngest grandson of the Xu family just earned the Small Triple Crown.”

In truth, Yang Madam had already been quite meticulous — upon learning of Tutor Duan’s circumstances, she had specifically arranged for the household to be cleared of excess clutter and unnecessary objects, and had instructed the womenfolk to keep a close eye on the children, lest they cause any disturbance to the elderly teacher.

The trouble was that Tutor Duan was ordinarily so understated that very few people in the capital were aware of his situation — none knew that he had taught so many accomplished students.

Yang Madam had initially thought that Yang Master receiving Tutor Duan would be sufficient. Looking at it now, it was not enough.

The Yang family was a household that placed the utmost value on scholarship and respect for teachers.

Fortunately, there was still time to act.

Yang Master rose at once, and as he walked out, said, “Have someone go and retrieve Father’s bull-fighting-pattern robe. I will go and explain the situation to Father.” He intended to have his own father come out to receive the principal wedding officiant in person.

Yang Master’s father — the previous dynasty’s third-place graduate in the Palace Examination, now retired.

“I understand.” Husband and wife each went to handle their respective tasks.

At dusk — the liminal hour between yin and yang — the time for wedding ceremonies.

Before the procession moved, the music began.

Pei Shaohuai mounted his steed, dressed in his qilin robe with a red sash draped diagonally across one shoulder, and led the magnificent wedding procession to the Yang residence.

It was rare to see such a young and dashing gentleman wearing the qilin robe coming to receive his bride, and all along the route, onlookers jostled to catch a glimpse.

A great triumph in the examinations, a great triumph in marriage — for some reason, Pei Shaohuai found himself more nervous about the latter.

At the gates of the Yang residence, Yang Xiangyuan, the bride’s elder brother, stood at the head of the Yang family’s relatives and friends, each one ready and waiting to block the procession. When the blocking began, there was a spirited exchange of wit and verse, and the whole welcoming scene was festive and full of laughter.

As Yang Shiyue had predicted, ordinary poetry and literary challenges were no difficulty at all for Pei Shaohuai alone to handle with measured grace and ease, his words elegant yet full of festive spirit.

Both talented and handsome.

Since the questions were mostly in the spirit of merriment, suited to all tastes, the gathered guests repeatedly broke into applause, and the calls in favor of the groom grew louder and louder. At last, the gates of the Yang residence opened for Pei Shaohuai.

The father-in-law stood at the entrance. Pei Shaohuai bowed and said, “Pei Shaohuai, the eldest son of the Pei family, having fully received the command of his parents, comes with white-haired fidelity as his bond, a red-leaf letter as his pledge, and the full rites of betrothal, to seek the hand of the eldest daughter of the Yang family, and to join our two families in lasting union. I humbly await your approval.”

These words Pei Shaohuai had heard rehearsed many times, yet when they came from his own lips, he felt only how solemn they were.

Every word spoken clearly, as a witness to himself — this was the vow by which he came to take her.

Yang Master replied, “Granted!”

Just one word. Perhaps because it was spoken for his own ears as much as anyone’s, Pei Shaohuai heard it with unusual clarity. His father-in-law’s voice carried a slight roughness, a hint of catching in the throat — he had meant to give it gladly, yet in that single sound there was also a father’s reluctance to let go. No matter how exceptional the son-in-law, a father’s sorrow at giving away his daughter remains.

After entering the residence, Yang Master’s father — dressed in his blue satin bull-fighting-pattern robe — came out specifically to receive and escort Tutor Duan into the main hall for a conversation, showing him the fullest measure of respect. The gathered guests were filled with curiosity about this unusual principal wedding officiant of the Pei family.

Pei Shaohuai, meanwhile, was led to the Yang family’s ancestral temple to offer incense and announce the marriage to the ancestors, then presented tea and paid respects to his father-in-law and mother-in-law, before rising to greet each of Yang Shiyue’s elders in turn, offering his regards one by one.

The rites complete, Pei Shaohuai returned to the wedding procession waiting outside the gates. He mounted his horse, the musicians struck up, the music swelled to its fullest, and the “hurrying the bride” ceremony began — urging the bride to don her red veil, urging the brothers to carry the departing daughter on their backs, and send her into the wedding sedan chair.

The louder the music, the more urgent the urging.

Having sent off three elder sisters at their own weddings, Pei Shaohuai knew well that the music of the bride-hurrying ceremony sounded festive, yet was the most likely of all to draw tears — for all its noise and fanfare concealed the words of parting between parents and brothers, while tears fell hidden beneath the red veil.

And yet it made his heart ache tenderly for her.

He waited quietly, waited while Yang Xiangyuan carried his sister step by step out of the house and steadily delivered her into the flower sedan chair. Then, from atop his horse, he raised his hands in a bow toward the Yang residence.

“The ceremony is complete — let us return—” The music swelled yet another measure higher.

Returning to the gates of the Earl’s Residence as the last light of dusk faded, the ceremonial escort led candles before them to light the way ahead. The matchmaker helped Yang Shiyue down from the sedan chair. Pei Shaohuai also dismounted from his horse and placed the red silk band in Yang Shiyue’s hands — her hands adorned with deep red henna, and traced with the marks of dried tears.

Pei Shaohuai did not know what comfort to offer. He only said, “There are stone steps ahead. Walk slowly.”

The pair of newlyweds, joined by the red band, entered through the gates together.

The matchmaker cried out: “The bride arrives — drive away the five evils, and may blessings gather—”

Guests on both sides took up five grains, copper coins, and auspicious paper, scattering them toward the newlyweds. Female guests also took up rouge powder and applied it to the bride’s hands — the ceremony of “adding rouge,” which shared its sound with “adding affinity.”

The union of a man and woman in marriage entails many rituals, but the most important is the kowtow ceremony in the main hall. Under the loud proclamations of Tutor Duan, the newlyweds bowed to Heaven and Earth, bowed to their parents, and bowed to one another.

Finally came the cry of “escort the bride to the bridal chamber,” and the couple parted — each to attend to the remaining rituals of the evening. Only at midnight would they be able to gather together again.

Pei Shaohuai came to the banquet tables. Relatives and friends, seeing the groom, came forward one after another to offer toasts, and there were even those who spontaneously broke into verse-making on the spot.

Although Shaojin and Yancheng stood nearby, along with the various brothers-in-law, taking turns shielding Pei Shaohuai from the drinks, they could not hold back the sheer number of toasts. Even taking just one sip from each cup added up to no small amount.

Situ’er drank for three at once, his record of valor unmatched.

When the banquet ended, Pei Shaohuai had drunk neither too much nor too little — just right. His cheeks were flushed, his gaze carried the soft haze of wine, and his spirits were perfectly buoyed.

Emboldened by the wine, Pei Shaohuai looked toward the bridal chamber and quietly rallied himself.

“The rushes are bound together; three stars stand at the doorway” — it was deep in the night when Pei Shaohuai returned to the bridal chamber.

When he had brought Yang Shiyue back from the procession, there had been a thread of sadness at parting — the sadness of a daughter leaving her home — but the day was above all a day of great joy, or why else would it be called “a day of great joy”? That faint sorrow had long since been brushed away by the happiness of the wedding night.

Both hearts had grown calm, and yet beneath that calm surged quiet currents.

“You may all retire.” Pei Shaohuai instructed the serving women and maids, and personally closed the chamber door.

Within, only two people remained, in a stillness that was just right.

The bed was made and ready. The beautiful woman sat quietly upon it.

Whether it was merely how he felt or truly so, Pei Shaohuai sensed a slightly reckless ease about himself after drinking — a measure of abandon and looseness of propriety.

His gaze fell entirely on Yang Shiyue and could not be drawn away for even a moment.

He thought to himself: tonight, no matter what, he would win back every round he had ever lost.

The red candles swayed and cast their flickering shadows. Pei Shaohuai took up the golden rod and gently lifted Yang Shiyue’s red veil. He saw her wearing a phoenix crown ablaze with pearls and jades, and beneath the heavy bridal makeup, the young woman’s shy loveliness could not be concealed — her gaze cast downward and rippling, her hands twisting at the handkerchief.

“Ahem—” Pei Shaohuai cleared his throat, attempting to break the silence in the room, and said, “It is time for the wedding cup exchange. I will go and pour the wine.”

The sound of wine being poured came, from vessel into cup.

The wine was ready. Pei Shaohuai raised both cups in his hands and walked over to her.

Whether from having had wine and feeling light-headed and unsteady on his feet, or because Pei Shaohuai had been looking only at Yang Shiyue and not at the path before him, as he walked over, he failed to keep his balance — one stumble, and the wine in his hands splashed out, soaking his robe.

Pei Shaohuai felt embarrassed. He inwardly reproached himself for being too “flustered and impatient” and letting himself fall into such an undignified state. With an awkward little laugh, he said to Yang Shiyue, “I didn’t keep my footing. My hand slipped…”

“And what are we to do?” Yang Shiyue finally spoke — her voice light and melodious.

Pei Shaohuai felt a sudden premonition. That familiar feeling had returned — he was going to lose.

“I… I’ll pour two more cups.”

But Yang Shiyue had already risen to her feet. Standing close beside Pei Shaohuai, she softly dabbed at the wine stain on his robe with her handkerchief, the warmth of their breath close between them.

“What I meant was — the wine has soaked the gentleman’s robe…” Her gaze, which had been cast down all along, at last lifted, and looked at Pei Shaohuai with quiet, earnest attention. “What shall we do about that?”

Pei Shaohuai’s face flushed completely red — redder than if he had drunk the whole night through.

He turned away to the table and, with trembling hands, poured two more cups.

As he walked back, he stumbled once more — only this time, the wine did not spill on himself, but onto Yang Shiyue’s skirt.

“The lady’s robe has also gotten wet…” he murmured.