Luoshen had not slept well last night. Only in the latter half of the night did she drowsily close her eyes, but she was entangled by bizarre dreams. When she awoke in shock, her head and back were covered in cold sweat, and she heard gentle knocking sounds from outside her bed curtains.

It was still dark, and the light in the room was dim.

Luoshen didn’t respond, only slowly rose from her pillow, sitting up wrapped in her blanket, her consciousness still hazy, as if she hadn’t yet escaped from her dreams.

The night that had just passed was probably the last time she would sleep in this familiar carved four-seasons brocade-wrapped rosewood bed.

After a night of startling dreams, upon waking she couldn’t remember anything.

The door wasn’t bolted. A’Ju, Qiongshu, and Yingtao entered.

A’Ju carried a candle. Looking through the bed curtains from Luoshen’s perspective, it seemed as if she held a vague mass of dim yellow light in her arms, swaying as it approached.

The light grew larger and larger, gradually illuminating the interior of the bed curtains.

Then the hanging bed curtains were lifted, and A’Ju’s familiar face appeared.

“Young Mistress is awake.”

She turned to give instructions to a maid, then reached out to touch Luoshen’s body—cold and damp with sweat.

She frowned, took a towel, and gently wiped away the cold sweat from her forehead and accumulated on her back and chest. She personally helped her change into a dry, soft undergarment and tied her sash, as if she were still a little girl who couldn’t dress herself.

The maids also became busy.

This morning she would enter the palace, and upon leaving, it would be time for Luoshen to depart Jiankang for Jingkou.

Candles in the room were lit one by one. Light suddenly dispelled the darkness, becoming bright and cheerful with festive colors everywhere. Though there were quite a few people—seven or eight pairs of hands each doing their own tasks—it was very quiet, with only occasional light clinking sounds of bronze basins, but no other sounds.

The silence reached an almost oppressive degree, as if they were preparing for a funeral rather than a wedding.

Luoshen finished having her hair done, put on her clothes, and completed her preparations.

The flower-like young woman, with just a touch of rouge on her cheeks, was already fresh and beautiful enough, charming beyond measure.

She ate a few random bites, then came to the main hall.

A’Ye, A’Niang, Uncle, cousins, younger cousins… a whole group of people were all there, waiting only for her.

So many pairs of eyes all looked toward her, yet no one spoke.

Meeting her relatives’ gazes, she smiled and said: “I’m ready.”

…

Gao Qiao and Xiao Yongjia escorted Luoshen to the imperial palace.

Xiao Yongjia had carefully arranged her makeup this morning.

Even the finest peach blossom rouge couldn’t cover the snow-white base color of her face, making her dark eyebrows appear startlingly black by contrast.

She grasped Luoshen’s hand, wanting to accompany her into the palace.

Luoshen said: “A’Niang, I can go by myself.”

Xiao Yongjia knew that inside, besides her brother and that Xu family empress, all the women in Jiankang who looked unfavorably upon Xiao Yongjia had probably gathered at this moment.

How could she rest assured sending her precious daughter alone into a den of mother wolves?

She wanted to accompany her daughter.

“A’Niang, I can do it myself.”

Luoshen declined once more. Her tone was insistent.

Xiao Yongjia was somewhat confused and even more anxious.

“No. A’Niang should accompany you…”

“Let her go alone.”

Her father, who hadn’t spoken throughout the journey, suddenly interjected.

Since that day, the parents whose relationship had again frozen into ice had, in this past month or so, probably only spoken to each other about matters concerning Luoshen’s marriage.

Xiao Yongjia acted as if she hadn’t heard, still gripping her daughter’s hand.

“A’Niang, I can do it!”

She had to be able to.

From today onward, like bidding farewell to that familiar bed she had slept in for many years, there would no longer be the constant shelter from her parents above her head.

If she couldn’t even complete this first step by herself, what would she do in the future?

Xiao Yongjia stared fixedly at her daughter.

Luoshen withdrew her hand from her mother’s, turned around, and followed the palace attendants inside.

…

In Chang’an Palace, many noblewomen and aristocratic ladies in splendid attire had gathered.

The Emperor had not yet appeared. They clustered in groups of three or five around Empress Xu and Zhu Jiyue. Those of higher status sat on couches covered with luxurious carpets, while those of lower rank stood attendant beside them. The atmosphere in the hall was pleasant, with women speaking and laughing in low voices, their eyes occasionally glancing toward the palace gate, carrying knowing smiles in their depths.

A woman of noble status, acclaimed as Jiankang’s greatest beauty, mistress of Bailu Zhou, with wealth like iron and jade like clay, endless fine clothes to wear and endless jewelry to adorn herself, who in her youth had married Gao Qiao—the object of every aristocratic young lady’s admiration—and who in her maturity, not only failed to bear sons but also despised her husband, living separately and paying him no heed, while her husband the chancellor still bowed to her wishes and, remarkably, hadn’t had even the slightest romantic scandal in all these years.

Such an enviable woman had lived high above others for half her lifetime. All the aristocratic women in Jiankang City whom she had offended, intentionally or not, over these many years had probably all gathered here today.

With jade ornaments rustling in spring breezes, orchid fragrance graceful, cloud-like silk draped on their arms, and rainbow garments blooming like lotus flowers.

Luoshen arrived gracefully, walking into the hall. Her radiant beauty made even the jade hibiscus flowers arranged in a nearby vase pale by comparison.

The women were stunned, their gazes moving in unison from her to behind her.

Not seeing the expected woman they could have freely mocked, they felt disappointed.

But soon, everyone’s interest returned.

Amid whispered conversations and gazes containing mockery and schadenfreude, Luoshen kept her eyes straight ahead, shoulders upright, walked before Empress Xu, knelt and bowed to thank her imperial aunt for her concern and care regarding this marriage during these days.

Empress Xu casually told her to rise, smiling as she said: “Fortunately all went smoothly, and today you’ll depart for Jingkou. That place is small, overrun with refugees, with all sorts mixed together—inevitably rather chaotic. It’s not really suitable for a delicately raised girl like you to live there. But fortunately Li Mu can be considered someone of standing. Marrying him, though you can no longer have your former nobility, you’ll at least have security for life. Your imperial aunt is also happy for you.”

Zhu Jiyue held an autumn fan, the fan covering half her face as she looked over the downcast Luoshen, chiming in: “The Empress speaks truly. In my opinion, women should marry a man who can provide food and warm clothing, bear a few sons, have support in old age, and their lives will pass. Everything else is vanity—don’t take it to heart. Don’t be like some people who, at such an advanced age, still won’t settle down. Don’t they know that fortunes turn? Now it’s not only fallen upon themselves but also brought retribution upon their flesh and blood—how unseemly! Those of us who are kind-hearted merely sigh a few times, but if they encounter harsh people, who knows how they’ll be mocked.”

When Empress Xu was speaking, whispers had already begun around them. When Zhu Jiyue opened her mouth, it turned into laughter.

Luoshen slowly raised her eyes, staring at Zhu Jiyue, and suddenly said: “Princess, you bully me for being young and tongue-tied, relying on your age to make sport of me—I’ll pretend I didn’t hear. But what do you mean by those later words? Are you perhaps mocking my imperial uncle?”

Emperor Xingping was cursed with few heirs. The princes born in his early years mostly died young, with only two surviving who were adopted by Empress Xu. Last year, the older prince contracted an illness and unfortunately died again. Emperor Xingping was both heartbroken and panicked, inviting Taoist masters to perform rituals in the palace, praying for blessings and warding off disasters. The great commotion at that time was known to everyone.

Immediate silence fell all around.

Luoshen smiled: “When Imperial Uncle arrives, I’ll have him judge the matter.”

Zhu Jiyue’s face showed embarrassment as she hurriedly looked toward Empress Xu, casting a pleading glance for help.

Empress Xu coughed slightly: “A’Mi, don’t misunderstand. The Princess was only joking—how could she mean to make sport of you?”

Luoshen sneered: “Imperial Aunt, you heard it too. She, a dignified Princess of Yulin, by seniority is also my aunt. I’m not yet married. Speaking to me, a young girl, repeatedly about ‘men’ and ‘bearing sons’—are these words a respectable person would say? Now you’re all mocking me, and I accept it, but no matter how low I marry, it’s not her place to speak such mad words to my face!”

“Who said what words?”

A majestic voice suddenly came over.

Emperor Xingping had arrived.

Empress Xu and everyone hastily rose, forming ranks to kneel in welcome.

The Emperor walked before Luoshen, showing a smile: “What just happened? Uncle hears you’re quite unhappy.”

Luoshen raised her eyes, already containing tears: “Imperial Uncle graciously arranged my marriage out of good intentions, but because of this marriage, I’m being openly mocked, with people saying retribution has fallen upon flesh and blood…”

The Emperor’s expression immediately turned ugly, his gaze sweeping around.

Zhu Jiyue knelt down, kowtowing to the ground, prostrating there motionless.

Silence fell around them—no one dared breathe loudly.

Empress Xu hurriedly explained: “Your Majesty, don’t misunderstand. Princess Zhu was only joking earlier. A’Mi is young and misheard—there was absolutely no malicious intent.”

The Emperor said coldly: “Today A’Mi departs the capital. I summoned her to the palace to bid farewell. What do all these unrelated people mean by entering the palace?”

Empress Xu’s face immediately reddened, and everyone felt disgraced, hurriedly taking their leave. Soon the hall was empty.

Only then did Luoshen wipe her eyes, kneel, and kowtow to thank the Emperor for arranging her marriage.

Emperor Xingping had already bestowed extremely generous dowry gifts upon her.

If everything were transported, by water route, the boats connected end to end could probably stretch from the western bank of the Qinhuai River flowing through Jiankang City to the eastern bank.

But this still didn’t seem sufficient to express his love for his niece and his current sadness at parting.

He commanded palace attendants to bring out a pair of gleaming red coral pieces as tall as a person, an agate pillow said to grant dreams of traveling the four seas and eight directions, a luminous rhinoceros horn recently presented as tribute by the King of Linyu to thank the imperial court, and a peacock cloak woven from collected kingfisher feathers mixed with gold thread, looking at his niece with expectant eyes.

Luoshen again kowtowed in thanks, accepting these new gifts from her uncle.

The Emperor finally seemed relieved, personally helping her up from the ground, studying her face, and sighing.

“A’Mi, don’t blame Uncle. Uncle had no choice. It’s really because your father misspoke first, and the Lu family son failed the test. Though Uncle is Emperor, he cannot abandon public duty for private feelings or break faith with the world. Fortunately Uncle has personally seen Li Mu—his abilities don’t fall short of the Lu family son, and you two are quite well-matched. When there’s opportunity in future, Uncle will certainly promote him, and then you can rise with your husband’s status and maintain eternal glory.”

Luoshen smiled: “A’Mi understands Imperial Uncle’s difficulties. Today entering the palace is specifically to thank you, to thank Imperial Uncle for his protection of A’Mi over all these years. A’Mi will leave now. Please take care of yourself, Imperial Uncle.”

The word “take care”—at this moment it truly stirred some sadness in the Emperor’s heart.

He even felt a trace of regret and self-reproach.

When Xu Mi was working hard to break up the Gao-Lu alliance, because of his own pretending to be deaf and blind, even adding fuel to the fire, his beloved obedient niece could only regretfully change husbands.

He knew his niece and the Lu family’s eldest son were deeply in love.

But he simply didn’t want her to marry into the Lu family.

If there was anyone to blame, it could only be her surname Gao.

Breaking up the great families, seizing opportunities to concentrate imperial power, again supporting humble families who would be grateful to imperial authority, letting the Emperor truly stand above all and rule the eight directions—this had been his long-cherished wish since becoming Emperor.

Many years ago, because he was young and because the abilities of the humble officials he relied upon fell far short of his expectations, that enterprise aimed at reversing the situation died in the womb, and he had been dejected for so many years.

Now, because of Li Mu, this young man who appeared from nowhere, the old thoughts in the Emperor’s heart that had been like dormant insects slowly revived again.

He had a feeling that this young man from a humble family might be the person who could help him confront the aristocratic families in the future.

He wanted to observe him, win him over, quietly cultivate him, and ultimately make him a powerful sword for confronting the aristocratic families.

Thinking of how court affairs had been controlled in turns by aristocratic families over the years, how he had struggled to breathe in the cracks between aristocratic struggles, the Emperor’s last bit of pity for his niece completely disappeared.

“Good child, truly understanding—you don’t disappoint Uncle’s affection for you.”

The Emperor’s gaze toward Luoshen became even more gentle.

…

This was a bright day in deep autumn.

At the auspicious hour, the large boat carrying Luoshen was slowly pushed away from shore, following the river current toward Jingkou.

On shore, passersby drawn by the spectacle stood at a distance, watching the boat gradually disappear, whispering and pointing.

Luoshen stood in the doorway from the cabin to the deck, watching her parents’ figures on shore become smaller and smaller until they became two tiny black dots that completely disappeared from view. Unable to bear it any longer, she turned and threw herself into the arms of A’Ju beside her, silently shedding tears.

A’Ju embraced her, patting her back and gently comforting her.

The more she comforted, the more Luoshen wept, crying almost uncontrollably.

Through her tearful eyes, she again thought of that night when Lu Jianzhi’s figure disappeared into the hazy night.

That was the last silhouette he left her—lonely and desolate.

At this moment, he should also be like herself, traveling the road away from Jiankang.

Only she was going east, while he headed southwest.

From learning of the marriage news until this moment, the period hadn’t been long, but wasn’t very short either. She had never cried again throughout, whether in front of others or alone.

Until this moment.

She didn’t know why she just wanted to cry.

Was it for those past times that could never be pursued again, or for the vague helplessness ahead that was unknowable?

Luoshen cried continuously until exhausted, finally falling into deep sleep in A’Ju’s arms, tears still glistening at the corners of her eyes.

…

Jingkou was a small riverside town located downstream from Jiankang. Though not large, since the imperial court’s southern migration, it had become the primary settlement for northern refugees, and with convenient water routes connecting north and south, it gradually prospered. Now it not only had tens of thousands of households with nearly a hundred thousand people, but also governed several villages to the east, west, south, and north.

Speaking of Li Mu near the Town God Temple in the eastern city, almost everyone in Jingkou knew of him.

His fame rested first on his father and grandfather’s former reputation in Jiangbei. Many of the current residents of Jingkou, before their ancestors migrated south, had received protection from the Li family military fort. Li Mu himself never actively mentioned his father and grandfather to others, but over time, through word of mouth, it gradually spread until everyone knew—this was the principle of predecessors planting trees for descendants to enjoy shade.

The second reason for his widespread fame was being honored by locals as “Commander.”

Because of Jingkou’s special geography, complex population origins, fierce customs, and mixed elements, while the government was powerless and local gentry only cared about enclosing land to build their own retinues, paying no attention to people’s sufferings, bandits had openly run rampant in early years, causing great harm to residents. Finally unable to bear it, every household spontaneously organized into groups, electing a commander to lead military training, gathering when incidents occurred, dispersing afterward. Ordinarily, when difficult disputes arose, the commander would also adjudicate.

Li Mu was the current Jingkou commander.

Because of his fair handling of affairs and commanding reputation, three years ago, though still young, he was unanimously elected commander by Jingkou people. Usually, when he was in military camp, if Jingkou had issues, his sworn brother Jiang Tao, who worked as a minor clerk in the government office, would handle matters in his stead.

Jiang Tao’s ancestors had also been prefects—a scholarly family. After migrating south, the family declined and ended up in Jingkou. Though Jiang Tao was full of learning, past age thirty he still only worked as a minor clerk in the yamen, handling clerical work and writing laudatory articles for superiors. By chance meeting Li Mu, the two became fast friends and sworn brothers, loyal to each other until now.

A month ago, news quickly spread throughout Jingkou.

The famous current chancellor Gao Qiao intended to marry his daughter to Li Mu. This marriage was said to be personally arranged by the Emperor.

Though Li Mu was known to everyone in Jingkou and commanded respect, the Li family had indeed fallen from northern aristocracy to humble status—this was an undeniable fact.

That aristocrats and commoners don’t intermarry was a rule everyone knew.

How noble was a daughter of the Gao family, and reportedly not homely either—on the contrary, extremely beautiful.

For such an aristocratic lady to marry down to a humble family and come to a place like Jingkou—how could it not make people’s blood surge with excitement?

For over a month, the hottest topic among Jingkou people had been when Li Mu would marry.

Craning their necks, they waited day after day.

Three days ago, someone saw Li Mu return to Jingkou.

He had achieved remarkable merit in the Jiangbei campaign, received imperial rewards, and been promoted to Tiger Guard Captain—this news had already spread earlier.

The day his return was known, the threshold at the Li family home near the Town God Temple was nearly trampled to pieces.

Then today, they finally received news again that the Gao family’s wedding procession had arrived at Jingkou’s dock, with Li Mu personally going to receive them.

Jingkou town was in uproar.

Women dropped half-cut vegetables, men put down wood-splitting axes, meat shops closed their doors, peddlers carrying loads squeezed into crowds.

Countless people swarmed to the dock, competing to watch.

Along the riverside, densely packed black heads stretched in a line.

Some, finding too many people in front blocking their view in layers, simply climbed onto nearby house roofs and walls, provoking a round of cursing.

The riverside was a din of voices, even livelier than New Year.

After several days of water travel, as the boat gradually approached Jingkou dock, this was the scene Luoshen encountered.

Luoshen wasn’t someone without worldly experience, but such a spectacle was her first encounter in life.

Moreover, this time she was the person being watched and pointed at by thousands.

Looking through the porthole at the scene outside, she felt momentarily apprehensive, with an anxious feeling of not knowing how to face this.

“Truly a crude place with crude people…”

An old woman, also seemingly startled by this commotion, drew a sharp breath and muttered under her throat.

Though spoken softly, it reached everyone’s ears in the cabin.

Crude place, crude people, and… a crude Li family gentleman…

Only she dared not speak this last phrase aloud.

A’Ju turned her head, her gaze like knives glaring fiercely at the old woman. Knowing she had misspoken, the woman lowered her head sheepishly.

A’Ju stared at the scene outside, frowning deeply, her face also showing displeasure.

The boat gradually stopped.

The dock was also packed with people.

People everywhere.

From afar, Luoshen saw her cousin Gao Yin and Ceremonial Officer Feng Wei appear on the bow deck of the leading boat.

In the dense crowd, she immediately spotted a man with straight shoulders and back.

There were so many people, and the man wore only plain cloth clothing, seemingly no different from those nearby. Yet such a person, standing among the crowd, was extremely conspicuous and hard to ignore.

With several boats ahead and some distance, plus dazzling sunlight, she couldn’t see the man’s features clearly, only saw him emerge from the crowd and, amid thunderous cheering behind him, stride quickly toward Gao Yin and Feng Wei.

The riverside sparkled with light reflecting onto the man’s face, vaguely showing handsome features and a smiling expression.

Luoshen’s heart suddenly skipped a beat.

For some unknown reason, a feeling as if she’d seen him before suddenly overwhelmed her.

This feeling was so mysterious.

Her heart pounded violently for a moment. Subconsciously wanting to see the man’s appearance more clearly, her fingers couldn’t help gripping the porthole tightly, her body leaning slightly forward, extending her neck toward the window, eyes wide…

“Young Mistress, be careful! Don’t be jostled!”

Suddenly a purple veil was placed over her head, its length covering down to her ankles, instantly concealing her entire person within.

Her vision immediately became like looking at flowers through fog.

Looking toward the man again, she saw he had already turned around, leading the disembarked Gao Yin onto the dock, his figure disappearing into the crowd.

On the dock remained only those sparkling waves reflecting sunlight.