The journey from Beijing to Nanjing was very long. Wanwan didn’t know the water routes, only gaining some understanding after looking at maps. With many soldiers aboard, they could travel day and night. She sat in the cabin on that rose chair watching sunrises and sunsets, temporarily forgetting her worries—everything was still tolerable.
Yu Qixia said they weren’t in great haste—it would take about a month, but at their current pace, they should reach Zhenjiang in about twenty days.
She turned to look at the low table where a porcelain dish was placed—some Maojian tea that Xiao You had bought with two copper coins when they docked earlier. The palace usually didn’t have this tribute tea, as its quality was too low to be considered fine. Even if they had it, it would be packed in bags and stuffed in trunk corners to scent clothes. Now on the road, the princess’s delicate ailments vanished instantly. She stirred the tea pile with her finger—white down like silk, green leaves graceful. With a small brazier, she could slowly simmer and drink it.
She lifted the pot lid and dropped in a pinch of tea leaves: “After reaching Zhenjiang, how do we get to Nanjing? By carriage or boat?”
Yu Qixia replied: “Last year, the Director traveled entirely by water route to avoid excessive fatigue. That Your Highness doesn’t get seasick is most fortunate. The Director notified local authorities early, fearing some waterways and channels might be too narrow for blessing boats to pass through. He ordered them to build new painted boats for Your Highness’s use.”
Building new painted boats—necessarily magnificent and exquisite—this was Xiao Duo’s thoughtfulness, but also quite extravagant. On this marriage journey, with north and south so far apart, she couldn’t control such matters. She only felt time passed quickly aboard the ship. Sometimes stepping out of the cabin to look, the blessing boat’s prow was so high that walking along the ship’s rail felt like standing in mid-air—rather frightening. Later she got used to it, secretly sitting on deck when no one was around, quickly standing up again, afraid the supervising nanny would discover her and start nagging.
In these days heading south, her only impression was that the weather had become much warmer compared to departure. Southern air was more humid with frequent rain. After six or seven clear days, they suddenly encountered heavy rain while on the most open water. Wind carried distant thunder, countless rain arrows piercing straight into the water, splashing layered ripples and echoes half a chi high.
As a child, she loved listening to flowing water, often gripping the railings of Duanhong Bridge to watch white jade dragon heads spout water. That was rain gathered from thousands of conduits throughout the Forbidden City after storms—impressive, yet far from matching the magnificent scene before her eyes.
Wanwan stood at the window sighing: “If one never left the Forbidden City for a lifetime, one would never see these mountains and rivers… His Majesty should also travel and see.” Her voice gradually lowered. After a while, she looked back at Yu Qixia: “Attendant Yu, what position did you hold before? Why have I never seen you?”
The palace had once had a joke about describing eunuchs’ appearances. The Twelve Offices frequently had people coming and going for supplies. Palace guards needed to verify identities—taking out name plaques, the first line always read “pale face, no beard,” which eight out of ten fit. Yu Qixia’s appearance was roughly like that—slightly older than Xiao Duo, with an elongated face, very gentle features, and speech that was always unhurried. No matter how urgent matters were, everything seemed easily resolved with him.
He cupped his hands very formally: “In response to Your Highness, after the Eastern Depot began supervising the Embroidered Uniform Guard, this subject has been handling Pacification Commission affairs outside for the Director, so Your Highness rarely saw this subject.”
This explained it, though the Pacification Commission specialized in surveillance, arrests, interrogations, and such. How could someone accustomed to such work serve as Internal Attendant at a Princess Manor?
“Coming to serve me is probably beneath your talents.”
Yu Qixia bowed even lower: “I dare not say so. This subject was originally a palace eunuch. Now that the Grand Princess is marrying out, the Director trusts this subject enough to assign me to attend Your Highness’s daily needs. This subject is overwhelmed by the honor—how dare I speak of being beneath my talents! Your Highness’s journey to Nanjing means unfamiliar people and places. This subject spent three or four years in Jiangnan and still has some connections. Should Your Highness need anything, at least I won’t be caught off guard.”
Wanwan smiled lightly and said nothing more, only squinting as she gazed into the distance. Her eyes held a hint of watery gleam—not wave reflections, but endless melancholy.
Tonghuan had asked about her plans. After suffering consecutive blows before the marriage—the person she was to marry had schemed deliberately, while her own brother intended to use her as a spy—she lived in the cracks between them, and Tonghuan feared she couldn’t bear the burden.
She looked down at the squirrel, only hearing its teeth gnawing pine nuts with great enthusiasm. After a long while, she answered listlessly: “Since we’ve reached Jinling, the wedding ceremony must proceed normally—I can’t make things difficult for His Majesty. As for that Prince of Nanyuan, having deep thoughts isn’t necessarily bad. Director Xiao is also someone whose depths can’t be fathomed. The difference is that Director Xiao wouldn’t scheme against me, while he’s quite the opposite. Clearly he only wanted to curry favor with the powerful, treating me purely as a reward.”
So even if it wasn’t a blind marriage, it was useless. If people’s hearts could be seen through, where would so many unhappy couples come from?
Princesses had their own involuntary circumstances. Once her marriage was fixed, there would almost never be any opportunity for change. Even if husband and wife didn’t get along, they had to maintain appearances, since Yuwen Liangshi was a feudal prince, not some insignificant minor official.
Sailing on the canal, they encountered two rainstorms mid-journey—coming quickly and leaving quickly. The clarity after rain and clearing skies could almost drown someone. The blessing boat reached Zhenjiang under vast clear skies. It was a distinctive, delicate small city with stone-built walls and air carrying a faint sweet-sour fragrance.
Unfortunately, she had no chance to properly explore. They stayed on shore for just one incense stick’s time, then under heavy canopy cover, she boarded a painted boat that swayed gently westward.
Southern people rarely saw anyone from the palace, so both sides of their waterway were crowded with spectators, shoulder to shoulder, waving handkerchiefs at the painted boat.
Wanwan felt embarrassed, hiding upstairs unwilling to show herself, fidgeting with her sleeve corner as she asked Tonghuan: “They all know I’m marrying down to the Prince of Nanyuan. The Prince of Nanyuan has concubines and sons. I, a Grand Princess, am filling that gap—they must be laughing at me, right?”
So ultimately, she still cared. Any young girl—who wouldn’t hope for a perfect marriage? Going there to become stepmother to others was quite embarrassing for her.
She was already aggrieved enough. They could only try to broaden her mind, not add to her burdens. Tonghuan said: “This doesn’t matter. You won’t be in the same residence anyway. Like those princes in the palace—just treat those two young masters as nephews. You mustn’t dwell on this matter. Your thoughts can’t be so narrow now.”
She smiled shyly: “When you have no particular feelings about someone, you can accommodate anything. Once you have grievances, naturally you find fault with everything.”
She spoke honestly, never pretending, not understanding why people needed so many schemes between them. Now she’d learned her lesson—aside from heartbreak, her mind and eyes remained confused.
From Zhenjiang to Jinling, though the water route wasn’t far, it was clearly much narrower than the canal’s spaciousness. The imperial painted boat, built tall and large, had grandeur but required slower speeds. After all, pleasure boats couldn’t be expected to run like patrol vessels. So floating leisurely downstream, they reached Taoye Ferry after three days. Switching from water to land route, the Provincial Administration had already cleared the roads. When she disembarked, she saw ceremonial guards fully prepared, with feathered fans and canopies standing in alternating rows along both sides of the road—everywhere displaying imperial majesty.
Vermillion lanterns were held high on curved poles, giving everyone beneath them a rouge-like tint. She stood briefly—at the road’s end, someone approached alone, wearing a crimson gauze robe and penetrating heaven crown. Reaching her presence, he prostrated himself, then straightened up. The light dancing in his eyes was more brilliant than the golden Boshan cap ornament.
A minor success—indeed radiating triumph. If before he was a tranquil sea, now he was a bubbling spring.
Wanwan studied him through her face veil. Already barely acquainted, and now thoroughly prejudiced, she could no longer tolerate him. When he bowed to her, she barely inclined her body in response. According to protocol, he shouldn’t appear here—the Princess Manor had stewards, and all ceremonies required auspicious timing. Now he’d disrupted the plan. She felt displeased and found this person even more arrogant and presumptuous.
She moved forward supported by Tonghuan’s hand, the felt carpeting beneath her feet soft like stepping on clouds. She ignored him, unwilling to speak a single word, even quickly withdrawing her peripheral vision.
She wasn’t a scheming girl, so once she rejected someone, it emanated from every bone and gesture, ruthlessly carving into one’s heart. He’d long known she refused to read his letters, unwilling even to mention him. As for where it began, he’d investigated carefully—the problem stemmed from Yin Ge’s unreliable mouth. Had he known this, he shouldn’t have kept her after the marriage edict was issued, needlessly creating these complications.
Using such scheming to force her into marriage—her anger was justified. Though somewhat unscrupulous, it was the fastest, most direct method. He felt no regret even now. Watching her retreating figure, he supposed this wouldn’t be easy to remedy. However commanding he was in Nanyuan, facing this proud princess, he ultimately couldn’t straighten his back. Even as husband and wife, they were never equal—one side was always stronger while the other learned to show weakness.
He smiled bitterly, hurrying to catch up, personally holding the sedan curtain to help her board. When about to lower the curtain, he wanted to look at her but hesitated. She proudly turned her face away—probably finding even one more glance at him worthless.
The procession remained quietly ceremonial, only rustling clothes and hoofbeats striking the ground.
He cleared the way for her, short of carrying her sedan himself, but unfortunately she didn’t appreciate it. In March weather, nights were still slightly cool. He turned to look roadside—pear blossoms tinted with watery colors from lantern reflections, momentarily indistinguishable from peach blossoms.
The wedding procession stretched several li. The princess’s marriage led to the Princess Manor, requiring no humbling herself to his Prince Manor, nor entering ancestral halls or paying respects to clan shrines. The most complex procedures were completed in the palace. His task was to fulfill a subject’s duties, because even marrying down, the Grand Princess’s status still commanded reverence.
Fortunately, everything at the Princess Manor was ready, the timing perfect—auspicious for marriage and bed arrangement. Ordinary families had elders to worship during weddings, but here after heaven and earth came spousal bows, then the princess entered the bridal chamber. With grand robes and tinkling ornaments, such honor was beyond most people’s lifetime imagination.
This counted as married—dreamlike and hazy. All energy was spent on the journey, so when performing the actual grand ceremony, it seemed less important. Wanwan sat on the bed, fortunately having slept on canopy beds in the palace, so she wouldn’t worry about lacking heated kangs. But this bed’s mattress was too thick, and she didn’t like the bed frame’s pattern. Touching the quilt cover, piles of dates and peanuts left her completely at a loss.
“Xiao You.” She frowned. “Clean the bed…”
Seeing Xiao You searching for a broom like a headless fly, Nanny Jingqi quickly stopped her and turned back: “My master, these are good omens, blessing you with early noble sons. You must wait until the Prince enters to drink the nuptial wine and eat offspring pastries. Only when ready to retire should the bed be swept. Your haste now will invite ridicule.”
She felt displeased, always appearing gloomy. She’d thought after so much time, she wouldn’t be so ungracious, but seeing him still left her heart scratching with anxiety. She could accept him being boring and mediocre but couldn’t accept his calculating schemes. Already eight years her senior, when he used cunning, wasn’t he exactly a crafty old fox!
Just as her impatience peaked, footsteps sounded outside. She glanced to see a tall, elegant silhouette on the silk screen. All attendants in the bridal chamber immediately called out in unison: “The groom arrives! Sharing the same food vessel, respecting equals, equal respect, intimate without separation!”