Mu Chun was too excited at this moment, his soul still floating in the air, his body possessed like a fox spirit, both coquettish and wanton. Fortunately, Hu Shanwei specialized in subduing all kinds of demons and monsters. She quickly covered his mouth with her hand, “Flirting in front of a grave—father-in-law’s coffin lid can barely stay closed.”
Thinking about Mu Ying’s position in his son’s heart, Hu Shanwei added another sentence, “If not for the monk’s sake, then for Buddha’s sake—mother-in-law’s coffin is also in there.”
This move was indeed as effective as a magic headband spell. Mu Chun finally calmed down, obediently holding Hu Shanwei’s hand as they performed three bows at the gravesite, placing fresh flowers, tea, fruits, and the three sacrificial offerings, and toasting wine.
Mu Chun lifted a jar of wine the size of his fist and said, “Father, before you died, you said that in the future, whoever I married, if I still cared about the kindness of giving me life, I should bring my newlywed wife to the gravesite to burn a stick of incense and report her name. You gave me life twice—the first time when I was born, you planted a seed. The second time during the chieftain rebellion and internal strife, you used your body to block the explosives and saved me, getting yourself blown up into paralysis and dying from severe injuries. Fine, you won. You did many terrible things before, like hanging seven-year-old me in the ancestral hall and whipping me unconscious, but considering the kindness of giving me life a second time, I still brought my wife here to toast you with wedding wine. Wife, come quickly and introduce yourself.”
Hu Shanwei lifted a stick of incense and said, “Father-in-law, my name is Hu Shanwei. I’m thirty-five years old this year, originally from Jining in Shandong. My ancestors were once glorious—several generations were officials. Later the family fell into decline and became merchants in the capital, running a bookshop. I used to be a book copyist, remained a widow, was engaged once and broke off the engagement, and served as a female official in the imperial court for fifteen years—”
Mu Chun gave Hu Shanwei a thumbs up, “Excellent! Truly worthy of the woman I’ve chosen. Every sentence of yours hits my father’s sore spots. If my father were alive, he’d probably be angered to illness by you. Now that he’s dead, he might just jump out of his coffin.”
Indeed, Hu Shanwei’s credentials were a complete 360-degree mismatch for Mu Ying’s expectations of his eldest son’s wife, perfectly standing in opposition to what a clan matriarch should be.
“Shut your mouth.” Hu Shanwei gave her young husband a warning look, her former authority as a palace official still intact.
Mu Chun shrank his neck. Having just gotten married, he was already in the terminal stage of being henpecked—incurable.
Hu Shanwei continued, “Mother-in-law, I’ve liked your eldest son Mu Chun for thirteen years. I once thought I would grow old in the palace and never marry, but Mu Chun gave me the courage to step out of past shadows and love devotedly once more. When Mu Chun was seven, his father hung him up and beat him. He always says it doesn’t matter, but he’s actually deeply hurt inside. Both he and I are people who have been abandoned, so I understand his pain. I will comfort him and love him. Please rest assured, mother-in-law—I’ll take care of his remaining years and treat him with gentleness.”
Hearing this, Mu Chun hugged Hu Shanwei tightly, “Only my wife is good in this world.” His Sister Shanwei had become Madam Shanwei, but the only thing that remained unchanged was her tenderness. He and she embraced each other for warmth.
After paying respects at the Mu family gravesite, they had to visit the Hu family tomb. Mu Chun was meeting his mother-in-law, having prepared the same offerings as for his parents.
The Mu family ancestral burial ground was luxurious, occupying most of Guanyin Mountain. The Hu family, being merchants, had only an ordinary location some distance from Guanyin Mountain, so Mu Chun drove his newlywed wife there in a horse carriage.
Hu Shanwei’s heart was surging with emotion as she sat beside her new husband, intimately leaning against his shoulder, linking arms with him as they chatted casually. “I’ve always heard from the Emperor and Empress, and from you, about the incident when you were seven years old, causing trouble in the ancestral hall and being hung up and beaten by your father. What exactly did you do that made your father so angry he would be so vicious to a seven-year-old boy?”
This was an unsolved mystery. Now that they were husband and wife, Hu Shanwei wanted to understand her husband and the Mu family in more detail.
Mu Chun spoke evasively, “Well… what little boy isn’t mischievous? Seven or eight years old is the age when even dogs find them annoying. My father just liked making mountains out of molehills, finding trouble with me.”
Finding trouble with a seven-year-old boy? Hu Shanwei sensed there was a story here. “Husband and wife are one body—what’s there to hide? Just tell me.”
Mu Chun coughed twice, “Then I’ll speak directly…”
It turned out that when Mu Chun was seven, Empress Ma sent him out of the palace to reunite with his family. Mu Ying was often away on campaigns with no time to manage him, his stepmother Geng Shi didn’t dare discipline him for fear of incurring the Emperor and Empress’s blame, and the household servants dared even less to control him. Mu Chun became increasingly mischievous—setting dogs to fight cocks, climbing roofs to remove tiles. When Mu Ying returned home, he tried last-minute discipline by locking Mu Chun in the ancestral hall to recite family rules, not allowing him out until he finished memorizing them.
Mu Chun was clever and could actually memorize them quickly, but he refused to! The little boy had a rebellious psychology—whatever you want me to do, I’ll do the opposite.
Mu Ying wanted to establish fatherly authority and simply locked the ancestral hall door from the outside, determined not to open it until the recitation was complete. Father and son were locked in this standoff.
Geng Shi, fearing the stepson would go hungry or cold, had servants send food, bedding, a chamber pot, and other necessities through the window. Mu Chun had food and drink and lived in the ancestral hall for three days, but still refused to recite.
The ancestral hall was tiny, and Mu Chun was practically dying of boredom, thinking of ways to get out. He still had bamboo firecrackers left over from New Year’s in his pocket, thinking, “You won’t open the door? I’ll blow the door open!”
Mu Chun lit the firecracker, stood in a corner, and threw it toward the main door. Unfortunately, he was still too weak, and the firecracker landed in the chamber pot by the door.
Seven-year-old Mu Chun naively thought that if he put the lid on the chamber pot, the fuse would go out and everything would be fine.
Then… BOOM!
Anyway, when Mu Ying rushed to the ancestral hall and took out his key to open the door, he discovered that the ancestral hall had been given a complete “renovation” by his eldest son, this little “painter”—the scene was quite spectacular, with everything splattered from ceiling to walls.
Mu Ying flew into a rage and hung Mu Chun up to beat him for dishonoring the ancestors.
As soon as Mu Chun finished telling the story, Hu Shanwei silently let go of his hand, retreated into the carriage, and even shut the carriage door. Mu Chun, driving in front, knocked on the door, “Hey, didn’t we just agree that you’d treat me gently for the rest of our lives?”
Hu Shanwei said, “Let me calm down first.”
Fortunately, the mother-in-law saved Mu Chun’s precarious marriage. When they reached his mother’s gravesite, sadness finally drove the image of the chamber pot splattering the walls from her mind.
Hu Shanwei could no longer remember her mother’s appearance. Her memories of her mother were always of Chang Yuchun breaking through Suzhou city and leading troops in massacre. A woman with a blurred face was knocked down by the flood of refugees. She didn’t cry out, but loudly called for her husband to quickly carry their daughter and flee, not to worry about her.
Her father had carried her to hide in Wofo Temple, escaping disaster. When he returned to collect his wife’s body for burial, he found the road full of corpses trampled into pulp, impossible to distinguish one from another. In the end, he could only collect his wife’s commonly used clothes, jewelry, and broken hair from her comb in a small box, building a cenotaph to express his grief.
In those chaotic times, two Wu kings contended for supremacy in Jiangnan. When immortals fought, mortals suffered. Chang Yuchun, who had massacred half of Suzhou city, died young at forty, unable to protect his descendants. His daughter Chang Shi was noble as Crown Princess, bore the legitimate eldest son, but ultimately lost both her consort position and heir status. Zhu Yunwen, born of a concubine, was instead made Imperial Grandson. The Chang family was suspected by Emperor Hongwu and exterminated, with only one grandchild escaping, whereabouts unknown.
Hu Shanwei served as a female official in the palace for fifteen years, witnessing firsthand how the former capital’s premier noble family was thus annihilated, also turning to dust in the earth, meeting the same end as her deceased mother.
Hu Shanwei and Mu Chun bowed three times before her mother’s grave, offering sacrifices. Hu Shanwei spoke of her late mother’s past, sighing, “Fame and profit are like cooking oil over fierce flames, flowers adorning brocade—they seem infinitely glorious but are actually very limited. The Emperor need only snap his fingers and half the capital’s noble families would be exterminated. The Emperor is getting old, and when old and new regimes change in the future, there will inevitably be more turmoil.”
This was the first time Mu Chun heard Hu Shanwei speak of her mother-in-law’s death. He sighed deeply, “No wonder you’ve always been indifferent toward the Eastern Palace—so this is the reason. The Emperor promised that before his time comes, he’ll have me fake my death and transfer power. When that time comes, we’ll retreat to the mountains and forests together, and we’ll also take your family members away in the chaos, lest someone get twisted ideas. I dare not speak of other places, but in Yunnan, there’s no one I can’t hide.”
His uncle-in-law Feng Cheng’s entire family was hidden in Yunnan, having changed their names—they were now surnamed Ma. Even if Emperor Hongwu suddenly turned hostile and wanted to exterminate the Feng family root and branch, it would be impossible.
Hu Shanwei was sensitive and immediately asked, “Yunnan is far from the Emperor—besides uncle-in-law Feng Cheng, who else have you hidden over these years?”
Mu Chun looked mysterious, saying, “I can’t tell you now, but rest assured, I’ve spent years carefully building foundations in Yunnan and left escape routes. Faking death and transferring power isn’t the end, but the beginning. The old Emperor has become too suspicious in his later years, thinking he can solve everything through killing. Only three old noble families remain in the capital. Duke of Faith Tang He moved his entire family to Fengyang and has long since withdrawn from the capital’s power struggles. There will surely be backlash in the future. With the old Emperor suppressing things from above, it’s not yet apparent, but when the Imperial Grandson ascends the throne in the future, that’s another matter. I’ve already paved the way for our future—no matter which member of the Zhu family becomes emperor, I can protect our family’s safety.”
The death of Mu Chun’s great-uncle Feng Sheng’s entire family, not even sparing two newly acknowledged adopted daughters, made him vigilant about the old Emperor’s potential betrayal and unpredictable risks during future regime changes.
Thirty-two-year-old Mu Chun was no longer the frivolous youth who could only survive by relying on the Emperor and Empress’s favor.
Hearing this, Hu Shanwei felt her young husband was quite dependable, thoughtful and comprehensive, and immediately became optimistic about their future life, smiling, “After three years apart, one should look at someone with new eyes.”
Mu Chun held her in his arms, “I was just worried that after three years, it would be another three years, and you and I would never have a day of reunion. Fearing the old Emperor would turn hostile, I had to make comprehensive preparations—it’s not like he hasn’t done such things before.”
Emperor Hongwu’s various precedents were simply too numerous to count, forcing Mu Chun to find backup plans for himself. Hu Shanwei pressed her face against her young husband’s chest, listening to his strong heartbeat, “I felt the same way. These three years, I’ve awakened from nightmares countless times, dreaming that the Emperor turned hostile and wouldn’t let me leave the palace, that a palace wall separated you and me forever, calling to heaven with no response, to earth with no answer. It’s been three days since the Emperor granted our marriage, and I still can’t quite believe it. These three days have been like a dream—I’ve been immersed in this fantasy, not wanting to wake up.”
Emperor Hongwu’s three conditions seemed too easy to Hu Shanwei. According to the old Emperor’s usual style of doing things, she felt he was still holding back a big move. However, if the old Emperor were so easily seen through, he wouldn’t be the eternal emperor Zhu Yuanzhang. Because of this, even though Hu Shanwei had left the palace and was getting married right there at the gravesite, she still felt uneasy.
Hu Shanwei was someone extremely lacking in security. She lost her mother in childhood, lost her fiancé in her youth, fell out with her father she depended on due to resisting marriage in her young adult years, lost her life mentor Empress Xiaoci during her career’s ascent, and lost Noble Consort Duanjing whom she had personally assisted during her career’s peak. Thus, her life was always about striving to obtain the best, then losing it.
Therefore, Hu Shanwei was somewhat suspicious of this sudden happiness.
Actually, Mu Chun felt the same way. Emperor Hongwu had always used Hu Shanwei to string him along, like a carrot hanging in front of a donkey pulling a mill, making him work desperately for the Zhu family. Now that the carrot was in his bowl, he also felt uneasy.
But as a husband, even if uneasy, he had to hide these thoughts and establish a trustworthy, dependable image before his wife, letting her live a stable life.
Mu Chun was different from everyone else who had entered Hu Shanwei’s life. Her father chose worldly pressure over paternal love, her former fiancé chose country over love, but only Mu Chun chose to withstand the pressure, betraying neither country nor beloved.
Mu Chun was the only person who could give Hu Shanwei a sense of security.
Mu Chun feigned lightness, “You’re not dreaming—this is all real. If you don’t believe it—”
Mu Chun took her earlobe in his mouth, bit it gently, and asked, “Does it hurt? You’re not dreaming.”
Half pain, half itch, stirring her heart. Hu Shanwei’s face reddened and her earlobe grew even redder. Suppressing her surging emotions, she scolded, “Where did you learn these refined tricks?”
Mu Chun loved seeing her proper, dignified exterior hiding a restless soul. He swept her into his arms, “Wait until tonight’s wedding chamber, and you’ll know that over these years I’ve become truly learned in these refined tricks.”
At Dragon River Station in the southern part of the city, they boarded a boat heading south. The sun was already setting in the west.
In the boat cabin, two rows of red candles flickered.
The two drank and bowed to each other. The ceremony was complete.
Mu Chun rubbed his hands together like a fly, looking at the person before him who appeared delicious everywhere, not knowing where to start first. His theoretical knowledge was extensive, but his practical experience was zero.
Hu Shanwei sat on the bed waiting for a while, but Mu Chun still hadn’t made a move, circling around her like a fly, occasionally letting out foolish laughter.
Unable to maintain the demure restraint expected of a bride, Hu Shanwei stood up and pushed Mu Chun down onto the bed, pulling off his belt.