Seeing Jiang Zhong slow his pace, Madam Du imperceptibly curved her lips. It was time to make him realize he couldn’t do without her.

The couple, each lost in their thoughts, passed through courtyard after courtyard of Duke’s mansion, finally reaching the ancestral hall. Jiang Zhong glanced coldly at Jiang Changyang, who stood outside looking fresh but uncomfortable. Nodding to the clan elders who greeted him, Jiang Zhong strode into the hall with his head high and chest out.

After the ceremony, Jiang Zhong coolly called Jiang Changyang: “Your grandmother has heart palpitations and can’t attend your wedding. Later, when you go to fetch the bride, we’ll wait by Qujiang Pool until the ceremony is complete. Who’s hosting over there now? Have someone notify them.”

Jiang Changyang stared at Jiang Zhong coldly, saying nothing. He knew Jiang Zhong’s meaning – who else but Lady Wang and Fang Bohui would be hosting? Jiang Zhong wanted him to inform them that the Jiang family were the true hosts, and the Fang family shouldn’t meddle where they didn’t belong. Jiang Changyang wished he didn’t have to perform this ancestral ceremony, nor did Jiang Zhong and Madam Du play their roles. But others wouldn’t allow it – all his life, people would see him as Jiang Zhong’s son, his marriage a Jiang family affair unrelated to Lady Wang, now part of the Fang family. The thought of marrying Mudan today with another woman in the primary position while Lady Wang was a mere spectator saddened him.

Jiang Zhong glared at Jiang Changyang unyieldingly. This was about his dignity and that of the Zhu Dukedom. He would not back down. Jiang Changyang was a Jiang, not a Fang.

Madam Du watched the father and son stare each other down with interest. She helpfully reminded them, “It’s nearly dusk. Don’t miss the auspicious time.”

Jiang Changyang lowered his eyes, nodded almost imperceptibly, and turned to leave, quietly instructing Shunhou’er: “Go back and tell them at home, they all need to come.”

Seeing his gloomy expression, Shunhou’er quickly said, “Young Master, don’t be upset. The Lady already guessed. She told me to tell you they can come if they want, she’ll wait there for your ceremony to finish. She said she doesn’t care about these empty formalities.”

Jiang Changyang felt warmth in his heart. His mother had thought of everything for him, willing to endure discomfort to spare him difficulty. But even if she didn’t care, he did. He resolved not to let Lady Wang be slighted.

Leaving the Zhu mansion, Pan Rong and his military friends waiting outside swarmed around him, pushing him onto a horse. Laughing, they rode towards Xuanping Ward.

At the street corner, a group of children laughed and shouted, “They’re here!” before running inside and shutting the gate tight. The group arrived at the He family gate laughing. Pan Rong pounded on the door, shouting, “Thieves must be beaten, guests must be seen! Announce the groom’s arrival, come out and look!”

Laughter rang out from inside, and a woman’s voice called playfully, “Who are these gentlemen? What talented men? With such noble spirits, why have you come?”

Pan Rong shouted back, “We are gentlemen of the capital, from noble families. We’ve chosen a general and come to this grand house.”

From inside: “If you’re noble gentlemen, surpassing others in rank, what is your purpose, what do you seek?”

Jiang Changyang called out, “Hearing your lofty words, we’ve come to meet you. A virtuous maiden is what a gentleman seeks!”

Everyone burst into laughter, pounding on the door: “Open up, open up!”

Inside, someone laughed, “We’re opening, be careful you don’t fall!”

Expecting the door to remain closed, everyone pressed forward to ram it. Only Jiang Changyang hung back cautiously. Sure enough, the door suddenly flung open, sending the crowd tumbling inside in a heap.

The women inside dissolved into laughter. Madam Zhen, wielding a bamboo rod, surveyed the carnage. Seeing many had fallen but the one she most wanted to trip hadn’t, she called out, “Get that unruly one!” as Jiang Changyang calmly stepped over the threshold. She rolled up her sleeves and lunged forward. The other women followed suit, laughing as they swung rolling pins and bamboo rods at Jiang Changyang.

Jiang Changyang smiled, protecting his head and face as he let them strike. Pan Rong scrambled up, shouting, “As best man, how can I let the groom be beaten?” He led a group of strong men to pile onto Jiang Changyang, laughing as they wrestled for the rolling pins and bamboo rods, begging for mercy and sweet-talking the women.

Madam Bai lowered her weapon, laughing, “Enough, enough. We’ll stop the beating for now. To pass this gate, first, recite a poem.”

Pan Rong grinned, “The cypress is from South Mountain, soon to be a door lintel. The lintel will long remain, but the bride is a temporary guest.”

Having passed this hurdle, they reached the inner gate. Before Madam Bai could speak, Pan Rong recited, “Gold forms the door leaves, jade forms the door rings. Pull back the golden latch, push open the purple sandalwood.” They continued, reciting poems at nearly every doorway. At the main hall, Pan Rong’s final recitation opened the doors.

After Jiang Changyang paid his respects to He Zhizhong and Madam Cen, he entered the hall. Seeing the screen set up inside, knowing Mudan sat behind waiting for him, his heart pounded. Pan Rong pushed him, handing him a pair of geese wrapped in red gauze with five-colored silk ties, laughing, “What are you waiting for? Throw them!”

Jiang Changyang smiled slightly and tossed the geese over the screen.

Meanwhile, Mudan sat on a saddle surrounded by Xueniang and the others, hiding her face with a round fan. Layers of brocade screens blocked her view, but she could hear the laughter outside and Pan Rong’s poetry. She heard the door unlock, then Jiang Changyang greeting He Zhizhong and Madam Cen. Footsteps approached, and Pan Rong urged Jiang Changyang to throw.

Mudan’s palms grew sweaty. She tugged gently at Madam Xue, who knew she was nervous but teased, “Don’t worry, the goose offering is next.” Just then, a flash of red appeared. Madam Xue quickly caught the geese and handed them to Mudan, whispering to the women around, “They’re live geese.”

Mudan smiled, stroking them before returning them to Madam Xue to be released after the ceremony.

With the goose offering complete, Mudan’s back and waist ached from sitting, but it wasn’t over. The makeup-urging poem was next. Though prepared, Pan Rong had recited so many poems that day that he was confused. He scratched his head, opening and closing his mouth without a sound. Some of the He family started to snicker. Jiang Changyang, panicking, wished he could pinch Pan Rong, and whispered a reminder.

Red-faced, Pan Rong called out loudly, “I hear by candlelight you mix red powder, before the bright mirror you create spring anew. No need to fully paint your face, leave your brows for the artist’s hand.”

After he finished, everyone burst into laughter. Madam Xue covered Mudan’s face with a lapcloth and helped her out from behind the screen. They bid farewell to He Zhizhong and Madam Cen, then escorted her out to the carriage. Mudan boarded with mixed joy and sorrow. Jiang Changyang circled the carriage on horseback three times, while the Second and Third Young Masters mounted their horses to accompany the bride. Finally, everyone called out, “Let’s go!”

Halfway through the journey, a commotion arose. The carriage jolted to a stop. Startled, Mudan was unsure what to do when she heard Jiang Changyang’s low voice outside, “Don’t be afraid, it’s just the roadblockers.”

Indeed, laughter and congratulations rang out, followed by demands for food, wine, silk, and valuables – they wouldn’t let the carriage pass otherwise. Jiang Changyang was prepared. He ordered food, wine, two baskets of coins, and a hundred bolts of silk to be brought out. After a rowdy bout of drinking, coin-tossing, and silk-gifting, the crowd finally let the wedding procession through.

By the time they reached the Qujiang Pool villa, Mudan was breathless from the heat. Jiang Changyang, also sweating profusely, leaned close to the carriage window and whispered, “Danniang, please bear with it a little longer.” This overheard comment drew more laughter and mockery from the crowd.

Thick-skinned, Jiang Changyang smiled at his unmarried cousins and friends, “Don’t rush, your day will come too.”

They laughed, “Don’t threaten us, Jiang Dalong. We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Amidst the laughter, Mudan alighted from the carriage, walking on carpets without touching the ground. Jiang Zhong and Madam Du stood in the courtyard with Jiang Changyi and Jiang Yunqing, watching Mudan enter but not moving. Traditionally, they should exit through the side door and re-enter through the main gate, following Mudan’s path to share in the bride’s good fortune.

However, Jiang Zhong looked down on Mudan and saw no fortune to share. He was reluctant to move, resenting the sight of Lady Wang and Fang Bohui standing nearby, clearly affectionate. His face dark with suppressed anger, he stubbornly refused to budge. Madam Du, there to annoy Lady Wang and watch her discomfort, was happy not to move if Jiang Zhong didn’t lead the way. After all, Jiang Changyang would blame Jiang Zhong in the future – the more resentment, the better. Jiang Changyi and Jiang Yunqing followed the couple’s lead, not daring to move if they didn’t.

In that moment of hesitation, everyone sensed the situation. Some wanted to intervene but held back, looking from Lady Wang and Fang Bohui to the He family’s Second and Third Young Masters who had just entered, then to Jiang Changyang, wondering how this would play out. The Fenhe Princess Consort, displeased, was about to step forward when she saw Lady Wang, without a word, walk straight-backed towards the side door, prepared to complete the ritual alone. Fang Bohui smiled, calling out, “Ayou, wait for me,” and took a few steps forward.

Someone chuckled softly. The birth father neglected his duty, leaving outsiders to handle it. Jiang Zhong, filled with hatred, regret, and anger, strode forward with a livid face. In his mind, he cursed the competitive, presumptuous Wang Ayou and the shameless, provocative Fang Bohui.

Madam Du laughed inwardly, hurrying to walk beside Jiang Zhong towards the side door. She glanced at Lady Wang with a smile, only to see her standing calmly with Fang Bohui, smiling faintly as if everything was expected, showing no anger or resentment.

Wang Ayou truly feared nothing, and with Fang Bohui indulging and accompanying her antics… Madam Du suddenly felt her facial muscles ache, her smile becoming strained and difficult to maintain.