The bronze crane-shaped incense burner on the sandalwood table emitted wisps of fragrance. The glow of the red candles cast a misty crimson light on the wedding curtains, which were made of the finest autumn-scented brocade with large golden threads embroidered into patterns of mandarin ducks playing in the water—truly a sight of overwhelming opulence. On a small table nearby sat a flower tray, with lotus seeds and lilies arranged in the shape of an auspicious peony. The red candles burned high in the bridal chamber.
The young woman sat at the edge of the bed with her head lowered, a gold-red bridal veil covering her face. Her jade-like delicate hands tightly gripped the lover’s knot as she softly asked, “Ji Lan, what time is it now?”
The maid in the water-blue jacket stepped forward with a smile: “It’s the Hour of Xu, Young Miss. Don’t worry, the Young Lord should arrive soon.” She covered her mouth as she laughed.
“You troublemaker, how dare you tease the Young Miss? You don’t know your place,” scolded the maid in the peach-colored jacket, though her eyes couldn’t hide their mirth.
“Both of you, quiet down,” Mother Chen peered outside the door. “Now that we’re in the Prince’s mansion, we can’t make a single mistake. You little hooves better watch your mouths—don’t cause trouble for the Young Miss. No, we should call her the Young Lord’s Wife now.”
“Mother,” Zhuang Han Yan couldn’t bear it anymore. Her pretty face beneath the veil flushed red. She wanted to stop their teasing but couldn’t find the words. Thinking of the Young Lord’s handsome figure made her wish she could bury her head in the brocade blanket scattered with lilies and pine nuts.
Wei Prince’s Heir, Wei Ru Feng—whenever she thought of him, sweetness would flood her heart. The first time she saw him was at Imperial Consort Rong’s banquet. Han Yan rarely went out, and on her first visit to the palace, Yu Shan had pointed to one of the male guests from afar, telling her: “That’s the Wei Prince.”
He wore a snow-white robe of the simplest style, yet it couldn’t hide his noble air. When his gentle eyes looked their way, he gave them a slight smile.
That smile became unforgettable.
From that time on, Yu Shan frequently brought her news of Wei Ru Feng. Both being daughters of marquis families, Yu Shan had a lively personality and often socialized with ladies from other households. The women would inevitably discuss news of the capital’s talented young men. Yu Shan learned that the Wei Prince’s family had helped the previous emperor conquer half the realm, achieving outstanding merit as elder statesmen across two reigns, deeply favored by the emperor. The Wei Prince’s heir, Wei Ru Feng, was particularly accomplished at a young age, excelling in both civil and military affairs. He was also known for his gentle temperament and considerate nature.
In the year she came of age, unexpectedly, her stepmother Madam Zhou had found her an excellent marriage match—with the Wei Prince’s family. The Zhuang family had switched from military to civil service since her grandfather’s generation, still maintaining a position in court. She didn’t understand the court politics behind the Wei-Zhuang alliance, but the fact that it was Wei Ru Feng was enough to make her deeply grateful to Madam Zhou.
“It was Yu Shan who told me the Wei family would be a good match,” Han Yan remembered Madam Zhou’s words: “For an unmarried lady to be so bold and shameless!” Though her words were stern, her face was all smiles. Yu Shan wheedled beside her: “I just want sister to marry a good man, isn’t that nice?” She had lowered her head in embarrassment, but her heart was warm. People said stepmothers were dark-hearted, but hers earnestly wished for her well-being. Thinking of this made her even more grateful, and she actively asked her father to elevate Madam Zhou’s status to formal wife.
Finally, this day had arrived. Her beloved was near, and from now on their days would be peaceful and beautiful. If her mother were alive, she would surely be pleased.
After sitting for who knows how long, she heard a “creak” as the door opened.
Han Yan instinctively looked down. Beneath the veil, instead of the expected silk boots, she saw a pair of delicate embroidered shoes—bright red uppers embroidered with colorful patterns of a hundred sons and thousand grandsons. For no reason, her heart suddenly panicked.
“Third Young Miss, why are you here?” Ji Lan’s surprised voice reached her ears.
Yu Shan?
For some unknown reason, Han Yan didn’t dare to lift her veil. At this moment, she felt an inexplicable heart palpitation. The nightmare from the night before the wedding appeared before her eyes again. In the dream, the woman marrying Wei Ru Feng was Yu-Shan, and when she frantically rushed forward, Yu Shan looked at her with cold mockery. After waking, she forced herself to calm down, blaming herself for such wild thoughts. The dream was truly absurd.
“Fourth Sister,” a gentle female voice spoke up, unlike its usual innocent vivacity, carrying instead a hint of coldness: “The Young Lord asked me to bring you wine.”
Unable to contain herself any longer, Han Yan lifted her veil, ignoring Ji Lan and Shu Hong’s gasps, staring dumbfounded at the person before her.
Zhuang Yu Shan wore a phoenix crown and wedding dress, her features breathtakingly beautiful. The red wedding dress was even more elaborate than her own, and her figure was graceful. She stood with a smile playing on her lips.
She had always known Yu Shan was beautiful, but Yu Shan had always dressed plainly in front of her. Who would have thought that in such brilliant colors, she would seem like a completely different person? Especially the expression between her brows—it was utterly unfamiliar.
Yu Shan stared at her with a slight smile, her voice as melodious as an oriole: “Sister, how do you think this wedding dress looks on me?”
Han Yan moved her lips but couldn’t speak. Yu Shan giggled again, covering her mouth: “Oh my, I’ve forgotten the main task.” She turned around, and two elderly servants following her immediately presented a white jade tray with a small pot and two wine cups in the center.
“What is this?”
“Wine bestowed by the Young Lord.” Yu Shan poured her a cup: “Sister, drink quickly. If you delay my wedding night with the Young Lord, there will be consequences.”
“What did you say?” Han Yan’s head spun. As Shu Hong and Ji Lan tried to rush forward to support her, several sturdy old women somehow appeared in the room and pinned them to the ground for moments.
Han Yan was held by her arms by one of the old women, her small face pale: “What are you talking about?”
“‘Priceless treasures are easy to find, but true love is hard to come by.’ Remember this poem, sister?” Yu Shan idly played with the wine cup, “At the lotus viewing banquet that time, the Young Lord praised my calligraphy.”
That wasn’t your calligraphy, it was mine, Han Yan wanted to scream, but her mouth was already covered by the old woman behind her.
“Oh, I forgot, you weren’t there that time. Sister usually likes to embroider and write at home, so naturally wouldn’t know about these things.” Yu Shan continued, “The Young Lord’s affection is for me, but as a concubine’s daughter, I naturally couldn’t become the Young Lord’s wife.”
“Sister might not know, but I’ve been yearning for your position as the legitimate daughter until my heart ached. On the wedding night, sister falls gravely ill and dies, and I sacrifice myself to take your place—it sounds just like a play, doesn’t it?” Yu Shan seemed to have become a different person, one unfamiliar to her, beautiful yet aggressive, with none of her usual innocent charm. Her presence was overwhelming.
Han Yan couldn’t speak with her mouth covered, but her heart was like a stormy sea. Yu Shan must be mad—how would Father react, how would the Young Lord react? Everyone knew it was Zhuang Han Yan marrying into the Wei Prince’s mansion, how could they switch places in front of everyone and turn it into Zhuang Yu-Shan?
“Sister needn’t worry about the Young Lord. Blood on the wedding night is inauspicious, and I’ve already prepared another bridal chamber. The Young Lord knows that their sister was kidnapped by bandits and lost her virtue at age twelve, so he won’t mind. Sister probably doesn’t know, but the Young Lord said as long as I’m happy, that’s all that matters.”