Wei Xun felt himself utterly ridiculous.
Her eyes were on her own face, so naturally she could look at whomever she pleased—no one had any right to control that. Seventh Brother had always looked the same, without suddenly sprouting an extra nose or two mouths.
Then where did this restless anxiety he couldn’t suppress, this nameless fury he had to forcibly contain, actually come from?
Especially when she casually praised him, leaving him unable to move, then turned around to stare intently at someone else—the emotional plunge was like soaring to Mount Hua’s Wild Goose Peak only to find no handhold, then tumbling headfirst into the valley below.
He had once been most annoyed by these messy interpersonal entanglements, unable to understand how people could invest their time and energy in such trivial matters. Now he too found himself restless over a glance, a single sentence, turning it over and over in his mind without being able to let go. Experiencing such foreign emotions for the first time, Wei Xun only felt his mouth bitter and astringent, his chest rising and falling, the slight flush on his face completely drained away, becoming increasingly pale.
Tracing it to its source, he was merely escorting her to Youzhou out of loyalty to find her relatives. This precious pearl belonged to no one, and no one was qualified to constrain her. His hand on the railing tightened and loosened, loosened and tightened again, wood shavings falling piece by piece through his fingers, yet he ultimately couldn’t utter a single word.
Unaware that someone upstairs had knocked over a five-flavored spice shop, after a long while Bao Zhu finally withdrew from her longing thoughts of her elder brother and curiously walked over to ask Huo Qi Lang: “How did you make the scar on your face disappear?”
Huo Qi thought this was terrible trouble. At this moment he dared not say a single flirtatious word, and the more he tried to avoid suspicion, the more she took the initiative to chat with him. He twisted his body trying to dodge, but Bao Zhu moved even closer, tilting her head to examine him carefully. A strand of peach blossoms from her hair bun dangled before his eyes, swaying back and forth—if he continued ignoring her, she might reach out to touch his face.
Huo Qi hurriedly stepped back a full foot, looking elsewhere, saying evasively: “Isn’t this for attending Sixth Brother’s wedding? I wanted to give him face, so I mixed some powder to cover it up.”
Bao Zhu was startled. In the palace, women with moles or pox scars on their faces habitually used flower ornaments and face patches to conceal flaws, but Huo Qi’s scar wasn’t some minor blemish—it was a massive scar running across his entire face, uneven and rough. How could powder possibly cover it so completely without a trace of flaw, as if it were his natural skin?
She praised sincerely: “Your makeup skills are truly divine.”
Huo Qi Lang explained: “It’s not makeup, it’s the art of disguise.”
Bao Zhu’s almond eyes widened in even greater shock, not knowing what other endless miraculous arts existed within this martial sect. She asked: “Since you know disguise techniques, why don’t you usually use this skill to fix your appearance? Wearing that scar is quite frightening.”
Huo Qi Lang shook his head and asked in return: “How long does it take you to dress and apply makeup?”
Bao Zhu said: “Working quickly, one hour is barely enough.”
Huo Qi Lang said: “Mine takes about the same. But in the martial world, no one competes over whose skin is more intact—they compete over whose kung fu is more ruthless. I was unlucky enough to join a sect full of monsters, so I don’t dare waste an hour every day painting my face. With that spare time, I’d rather sleep a bit more to heal the wounds on my body.” There was considerable bitterness and helplessness in his words.
Wei Xun came down from upstairs, brushing past the two of them, dropping a cold statement: “If you could spare the time you spend lazing in bed to practice your fists and kicks more, you wouldn’t be so mediocre, having to rely on your face to earn your nickname.”
Huo Qi Lang smiled bitterly and said: “Senior Brother, don’t mock me. All of us live up to our names ironically—I’m the Silk Brocade Young Master with a ruined face, Pang Liangji is a swift horse with broken legs, and you’re called ‘Xun’ (Disciplined), yet where’s even a bit of discipline in you?”
She turned to Bao Zhu and said: “He’s the monster among monsters. This person doesn’t need sleep at all—he just meditates at other people’s doors all day, and that counts as rest.”
Bao Zhu didn’t understand and looked up at Wei Xun, asking strangely: “Why do you meditate at other people’s doors?”
Wei Xun’s retreating figure froze, pretending he heard nothing and quickly walked out of the inn, feigning inspection of whether the saddles and bridles on the horses were secure.
Seeing him ignore her again, Bao Zhu grew angry and said to Huo Qi Lang: “I don’t know how strong you monster senior brothers are, but I know he has one huge weakness.”
Huo Qi Lang immediately perked up, his eyes lighting up: “What?! Wei Da actually has a vulnerable spot?”
Bao Zhu sneered coldly: “As soon as he hears something he doesn’t want to answer, he immediately goes deaf—no matter how much you shout, he won’t respond.”
Standing at the inn entrance, Wei Xun stiffened again. Huo Qi knew that with his hearing, he could hear everything clearly at this distance, and couldn’t help but burst into laughter.
Bao Zhu continued: “I also know he definitely never learned disguise techniques.”
Huo Qi Lang laughed and asked: “How can you tell?”
Bao Zhu said proudly: “Once I painted a bloody diagonal red makeup, using rouge to draw wounds on my face. He couldn’t tell real from fake at all and was so scared his face turned blue.”
Huo Qi Lang slapped the table, laughing even more wildly.
Wei Xun’s hand was a bit heavy and accidentally snapped the saddle’s leather strap, having to retie it. Though he was teased and mocked, at least she was talking about him and no one else, so his anxious mood finally calmed.
Shisan Lang, who had gone out early in the morning, finally returned, somehow acquiring an eight-foot-long thin flagpole. Hanging from it was not a banner but a green peach branch heavy with fruit. After everyone finished packing, they mounted their horses together and set off for the Pang family in Jade City.
Bao Zhu asked curiously: “What are you using this pole for?”
Shisan Lang replied: “Senior Brother told me to prepare it. He said peach branches ward off evil spirits.”
Bao Zhu thought this was probably some folk tradition, quite interesting. Around them were many children his age clamoring for copper coins and colored fruits. Shisan Lang, who usually loved snacks, didn’t even glance at them today, gripping the flagpole with the peach branch and following closely beside her, never leaving her side.
The Jade City Pang family sent six servants specifically to protect Miss Jiu Niang, surrounding her in the middle. Bao Zhu had grown up accustomed to having hundreds of palace attendants and guards clustered around her when going out, so she didn’t find anything amiss. Only Shisan Lang stayed closest. Bao Zhu suddenly noticed he had grown much taller since their first meeting at Cuiwei Temple. At this rate, it wouldn’t be long before he caught up to her height, which she found quite marvelous. She couldn’t help wondering: had her younger brother Li Yuanyi, who remained in the palace, also grown taller?
The Jade City Pang family truly deserved their reputation as local tycoons, owning a magnificent sprawling mansion in the commercial district. From afar, one could see impressive carriages and elaborate garden pools arranged in rows—its scale was no smaller than the estates in Chang’an’s southern suburbs. Chang’an’s southern outskirts had always been where powerful noble families gathered their country estates, especially Duqu in Fanchuan and Weiqu at the northern end, which were the ancestral seats of the great Du and Wei clans, praised as “Southern Du and Wei families, reaching five feet from heaven.”
Bao Zhu thought that Shisan Lang’s secular surname was Du and Wei Xun’s surname was Wei. These two Du and Wei beside her, though sharing surnames with the great families, were penniless wandering heroes—quite an interesting contrast to those families that “reached five feet from heaven.”
For Young Master Pang’s wedding, the entire household was busy beyond belief. When Bao Zhu’s group arrived, Pang Liangji was standing at the Pang mansion’s main gate supervising servants placing items on the door lintel—three arrows on a tray, also something used to ward off evil spirits in wedding customs.
Seeing their group arrive, Pang Liangji exclaimed joyfully: “You’re finally here!” He immediately welcomed them inside to rest. He had already changed into the bright red crimson official robes that grooms wore. With joy lifting his spirits, even his walk had quickened considerably—at first glance, he appeared no different from ordinary people.
Bao Zhu admired the scenery in the Pang mansion’s courtyard, but saw that the artificial rocks and flowering trees had all been moved away. Many servants were busy leveling the lawn and beginning to erect the green pavilion tents for the outdoor ceremony. People bustled everywhere with constant shouting, muddy footprints covering the ground—there was no longer any scenery to speak of.
Pang Liangji said: “It’s all because of the constant rain these past days. This green pavilion should have been erected long ago. Now with all this rushing about, I’m afraid we won’t notice if there are mistakes.”
Servants immediately brought over folding chairs for the young master to sit and rest. Pang Liangji was too excited to sit still. Manager Pang advised: “Young Master, this ceremony will keep us busy until dawn tomorrow. Let’s conserve our strength and use it gradually, shall we?”
Huo Qi Lang laughed and teased: “Yes, you need to conserve it. When it’s time for your wedding night and you need to use your legs…” He cut himself off mid-sentence, thinking that on such an auspicious day he shouldn’t tell such crude jokes, especially with a young lady listening nearby.
Bao Zhu noticed the well mouth was covered with bamboo mats and stone mortars for hulling rice were placed in the courtyard, filled with golden millet. Not understanding the meaning, she casually asked a servant moving flower pots: “Are you going to hull rice on the spot? Why is the well covered with bamboo mats?”
The servant immediately set down his work, wiped his hands on his clothes, and answered: “In response to the young lady, these are all auspicious wedding customs—every family does this, though this slave doesn’t know why. Even if a family doesn’t have stone mortars and bamboo mats, they must borrow them for the occasion.”
Bao Zhu saw that the bamboo mat was bordered and painted with bird and flower patterns, quite lovely. She walked over and tried to lift it, but it wouldn’t budge—apparently it had been secured in place.
Following century-old customs, weddings were held outdoors. Everyone gathered in the courtyard to talk while servants brought folding chairs. When Bao Zhu sat down, a maid immediately brought a silver basin for washing hands, followed by fermented milk and various dried fruits and pastries. She was naturally accustomed to being served, having been born a noble daughter of the imperial family. The more people surrounded and attended her, the more she displayed supreme noble bearing. Even without knowing who this young lady was or which distinguished guest she might be, the servants dared not show the slightest negligence, naturally forming a group around her with respectful silence.
Seeing them all holding their breath in even greater deference than they showed him, Pang Liangji found it quite puzzling and asked: “Is Miss Jiu Niang’s family really that wealthy?”
Wei Xun just smiled quietly: “Richer than you could imagine.”
Pang Liangji asked again: “What’s Xiao Guangtou’s pole for?”
Wei Xun said: “A command flag. Where the flag goes, I follow. If the flag falls, I’ll have to rush over.”
Pang Liangji suddenly understood and felt uneasy. He turned to call Manager Pang to bring another gold ingot to give Huo Qi, asking her to take better care of his side, but saw the manager had already abandoned him to rush over and pay respects to Miss Jiu Niang.
Bao Zhu peeled a dried longan and put it in her mouth, listening as the manager said: “The household is so busy we’re dizzy. Our hospitality is truly inadequate. If there’s anything improper, please be sure to let Miss Jiu know.”
She thought hospitality flaws were unimportant, but there was an important matter that the person in charge should know. She said: “The horses in the house seem somewhat wrong?”
Manager Pang’s expression changed slightly. He immediately waved for the maids to leave, moved close to her and said: “Miss Jiu Niang has keen eyes. Last night someone scattered a bag of croton beans in our horse trough. The horses got stomach trouble and are weakened today.”
Bao Zhu was stunned: “No wonder they all look so listless.”
Manager Pang said: “Fortunately the three good horses that the groom and groomsmen will ride are fed separately with special fodder, so they didn’t eat the contaminated food. We were afraid of ruining the celebration, so we didn’t dare make it public.”
Bao Zhu nodded and said: “Bring the horses back to rest. If they can still move around this morning, by afternoon they won’t be able to stand. Without timely replenishment of fodder and water, they’ll collapse and die tonight.”
Manager Pang said hurriedly: “How can we make distinguished guests walk? We’ve already sent people to the market to make emergency purchases.”
Bao Zhu said: “No problem—isn’t it only ten li? I’m quite good at walking. New horses need several days to adapt after arriving home. If we force ourselves to ride them, they might bolt or spook, causing real trouble instead.”
She thought that this Pang family wedding had people causing trouble everywhere—a few days ago there were hidden traps in the makeup urging poems, last night croton beans were scattered in the horse trough. She wondered who hated this ceremony so much that they were determined to disrupt it completely. Today, when the ceremony was officially held, it probably wouldn’t pass peacefully.
Time flew by quickly, and soon it was the auspicious hour at dusk. Pang Liangji paid respects to his ancestors and parents at home, mounted his fine horse, and set off with his two martial brothers as groomsmen, over a hundred attendants, and a magnificent wedding carriage to personally welcome the bride from the Xiao family.
Just as written in poetry: “Where is spring’s depth most beautiful? Spring’s depth is at the bride-welcoming home. Two rows of lanterns in cages, one tree of flowers between fans. Guests bow and ascend the splendid seats, relatives welcome the curtained carriage. Before the makeup-urging poems are finished, stars gradually slant across the sky.”
At the front of the procession rode the high-spirited groom Pang Liangji on his tall horse, followed by Wei Xun and Huo Qi Lang to his left and right. The wedding procession carried torches and lanterns, following behind these three impressive figures in red robes, moving majestically along the road under the gaze of countless Jade City residents.
Bao Zhu also followed in the wedding procession, surrounded by Shisan Lang holding the flagpole and six household servants.
They walked all the way to the bride’s home. Compared to the resplendent Pang mansion, this courtyard of only two sections appeared desolate and run-down, pitch black inside without a trace of light, its main gate tightly shut.
The ceremony master stepped forward to knock on the door, singing loudly: “When bandits come~ we must fight, when guests come~ we must see, report to~ sisters-in-law, come out~ to look!”