This ten-li bridal procession would be remembered for many years to come — much like the Duke of Angu’s wedding of his daughter in years past, yet also quite different from it. The Hua woman’s standing may have been a fraction less elevated by rank, yet the significance she held was entirely beyond comparison. Prince Ling had dared to treat his first wife as he had, in the first place, precisely because the Duke of Angu’s family had relinquished their power many years prior and were already in a gradual decline at court. The Hua Family was another matter altogether.

Setting aside the Hua Family’s own deep foundations, the title of Imperial Grand Preceptor alone was not to be taken lightly. This was no longer merely a private affair of the Prince Regent’s household — it was a matter that touched the entire imperial family. If the Prince Regent treated the Grand Preceptor well, all would be fine. If he did not, the charge of treating a meritorious subject with contempt would be enough to make the imperial family lose the hearts of the people entirely.

Many had come to believe that what they could plainly see, the Prince Regent could not possibly fail to see as well. And yet he had persisted in seeking her hand in marriage. It was said that even as the Grand Preceptor lay gravely ill, the two of them had already performed the rites of matrimony together. Clearly, the Prince Regent must cherish and hold the Grand Preceptor in the deepest regard — otherwise, why would he have placed himself in such a position?

How many women privately thought: a Prince Regent of such deep and devoted feeling was a model for all men.

The man in question, who was being held up as a model for all men, was at this moment standing fully dressed in his red wedding robes, his expression so rigid that anyone who did not know him might have thought him displeased at the prospect of being a groom. Those who had spent a long time in his service knew at once, naturally, that their master was nervous.

Chen Qing turned away to steal a laugh. For heaven’s sake — what kind of fate was this, to witness his master in such a state? Ha!

“The Emperor has arrived!”

Gu Yanxi hastened out to receive him. He was somewhat surprised — the Emperor had come rather early. There was still some time before the auspicious hour.

The Emperor moved swiftly, catching the groom before he could kneel, and said with a wide smile, “Today, Brother Yan Xi and Sister Hua Zhi are the most honored of all.”

The words “Brother Yan Xi” and “Sister Hua Zhi” made Gu Yanxi look up sharply. That form of address — it had been a very long time since it had last been used, and it should not have been used again.

The Emperor seemed to know what he was thinking. The corners of his lips curved upward. “The Grand Preceptor once said that when the day comes that I am strong enough, I may change the rules. That day has not yet come. But on a day like today, I am merely here as a younger brother to drink a cup of wedding wine. Who could find fault with that?”

Some words sounded ordinary, yet moved one more than any fine speech could. The severity that was so habitual to Gu Yanxi softened. “As long as His Majesty treats this subject as an elder brother for a single day, this elder brother will treat His Majesty as a younger brother for every day that follows.”

The Emperor smiled until his brows arched with easy, youthful pleasure, and something of a young man’s spirited air returned to his face. He knew that many had concluded, since he was still young and therefore had no choice but to rely on the Prince Regent’s power, that when his wings grew strong, he would inevitably find the Prince Regent impossible to tolerate. The Prince Regent must have been aware of this as well — yet he continued as he always had, making no deliberate attempt to step back, never even coming before the Emperor to make a show of his loyalty.

What he did was quietly scatter the authority held by the Seven Stars Bureau, returning it piece by piece to the various ministries. He established a Military Bureau to address the Great Qing’s desperate shortage of capable commanders. Beyond the Grand Preceptor’s regular lessons, he added a session of his own, personally teaching the Emperor military strategy.

His elder brother of the former Shizi days never said much. He simply acted — steadily and without pause, resolving one problem after another that the Great Qing faced, as though driven by an urgency to set everything in order so he might be free to lay down his seal and go at last. Having watched these past two years, the Emperor had long since understood: in the Prince Regent’s heart, the Grand Preceptor mattered more than any throne. So as long as the Emperor learned to govern himself properly, his elder brother would not abandon him — and his Grand Preceptor would not abandon him either.

In his elation, the Emperor’s heart grew unruly. “What if I come along to the bride’s household to escort her back?”

The more he thought about it, the better an idea it seemed. Without waiting for Gu Yanxi to object, he turned to his attendant Xiao Shuang. “Go quickly and find me something to wear — something plain and ordinary. Nothing that will overshadow the groom.”

Xiao Shuang, who had grown increasingly composed over time, could in this one moment only express his utter bewilderment through his eyes alone. Had the Emperor not come to preside over the wedding ceremony? How had he ended up in the escort party?

“Why are you standing there? Go.”

“…Yes.”

Looking at the young Emperor whose eyes shone with pure delight, Gu Yanxi swallowed the objection that had risen to his lips. So be it. How many times in a lifetime could an emperor allow himself such willfulness? The time to act on youthful impulse with impunity was now — the further one went, the less one could answer only to oneself.

The escort procession was of unprecedented scale. Gu Yanxi rode at the front on Lin Ying, who, like his master, wore a large red flower pinned to him, making the horse look especially sleek and lustrous. Behind them came a bridal palanquin of refined craftsmanship and the most meticulous detail.

With the Emperor having joined them, even with his confidence that the capital was secure, Gu Yanxi dared not be careless. He quietly gave the order for twenty of his covert guards to abandon their concealment and don the standard uniform of the Prince Regent’s estate, joining the procession in plain view — and he added another twenty members of the Seven Stars Bureau to guard the Emperor’s flanks.

The Emperor, his wish granted, was brimming with joy, looking left and right from atop his horse. It had been a very long time since he had moved about outside like this, and a very long time since he had seen a scene so lively and full of life. So many people — a great surging sea of them!

The streets on both sides were packed with commoners as far as the eye could see. They were all smiling, as though this joyous occasion had something directly to do with them.

And of course it did. If not for today’s couple, whether the Great Qing would still exist at all was a question with two answers. They had every right to be glad.

Thinking on this and that, the Emperor failed to notice that the expression on his own face was exactly the same as those of the ordinary people around him.

The long escort procession came to Hualin Lane amid the beating of drums and the crashing of gongs. Firecrackers shook the heavens. Gu Yanxi steadied Lin Ying, his own expression as taut as if he stood on a battlefield.

The Hua Family’s main gate was left slightly ajar. From time to time a child’s head would pop out and look outside with excitement, then duck back in to whisper back and forth with the others, then pop out again for another look — each of them with their hair tied up in little buns, as adorable as could be. Those outside could not help but smile at the sight.

The first obstacle in the escort rite: the blocking of the palanquin gate.

Gu Yanxi dismounted, took a bundle from Chen Qing’s hands, and walked over, handing a whole pouch of red envelopes directly through the gap.

The children received it with giggling delight, yet did not move aside.

One child of around six raised his head and asked, “Brother-in-law, will Eldest Sister be able to come home often?”

Gu Yanxi recognized them — these were the children from the Hua Family clan school who had learned some basic boxing and footwork from him. The tension in his chest eased somewhat. He corrected the boy’s phrasing: “From now on, your Eldest Sister’s home is the Prince Regent’s estate. This is her parental home. Whenever she wishes, she may come back.”

“Then can we come and visit Eldest Sister at the estate often?”

“Of course you can.”

Having heard exactly what they most wanted to hear, the children stepped aside with satisfied grins. This first obstacle was cleared.

Gu Yanxi let out a long, slow breath and walked into the home of his in-laws — a place he had long since grown thoroughly familiar with.

The bridal palanquin was carried in closely behind and set down in the front courtyard. Elder Matriarch Stone was already waiting there. Once the palanquin was settled, she lit a red candle, lifted a mirror, and moved it carefully around the interior, peering inside several times — a ritual called “searching the palanquin,” meant to drive away any vengeful spirits that might have concealed themselves within. Though this rite could be performed by others, it carried greater meaning when conducted by a woman of complete fortune and wholeness. The Hua Family naturally wished to give Hua Zhi only the very best of everything.