The bridal sedan entered the gates of Prince Jing’s Mansion amid the deafening sound of firecrackers.
According to the capital’s custom for welcoming a new bride, the sedan should stop outside the main gate and the matchmaker would carry the bride inside on her back. However, this custom didn’t work at Prince Jing’s Mansion. Because it was too far.
This estate had housed two generations of the Xiao family princes, with four generations living together under one roof since the old prince’s time.
The old prince had three legitimate sons. The second son received the prince title by imperial decree, while the eldest and third sons both held military positions at court. Since the old patriarch advocated that family harmony brought prosperity to all matters, the legitimate sons and their descendants didn’t divide the household. The Emperor, appreciating his excellent family management, bestowed over half of the Zhiyun Workshop district to become Prince Jing’s estate. Within it were gardens and scenic landscapes, emerald lakes and green islands, pavilions and towers—all could be enjoyed without leaving the mansion gates. Because of this, even with the households of the First and Third Masters living in the prince’s mansion, along with nearly eight hundred servants from the three families combined, there was still ample space. When the three households visited each other on ordinary days, sedans were necessary, carriages were efficient, and swift horses were for emergencies.
Prince Jing’s Mansion was divided into three gardens. Jingfang Garden was the main garden, where Prince Jing’s household and the old prince and princess resided. Huaming Garden was given to the first household, and Huixi Garden to the third household.
The third generation of Xiao descendants still lived together regardless of legitimate or common birth, but once a common-born son married, he had to move out and establish his own household. This was also the practice of most noble and official families of high standing.
Yesterday, Li Shi had spent a full hour telling Qiu Sanniang and the others about Prince Jing’s Mansion, though Mo Zi only remembered this much. Not because her memory was poor, but because she wasn’t particularly interested in the rest. For instance, why wasn’t the prince title passed to the eldest son? Because it went to whoever was most excellent. While the ancient people of this time found this somewhat unconventional, to Mo Zi, rigidly following tradition by passing it to the eldest son was more problematic. For another example, while the three Xiao households seemed harmonious on the surface, rumors said they didn’t get along. Wasn’t that obvious? Where there are people, there are conflicts—especially when eight hundred people were practically a small nation unto themselves. Besides, she could tell that much of what Li Shi said about Prince Jing’s Mansion was just hearsay. One sentence passed through ten people changes completely, let alone an hour’s worth of talk that had probably gone completely off track.
How fortunate that Bai He and Lu Ju listened so attentively. Mo Zi thought that if she had volunteered to be the scribe at the time, people would have rushed to grind ink and lay out paper for her, then bound it into a booklet to carry around, reviewing it whenever free, hopefully turning Qiu Sanniang into the darling beloved by all in the prince’s mansion, ensuring a perfectly happy marriage and satisfying romance thereafter.
Truly a case of the eunuch being more anxious than the emperor—she could see that Qiu Sanniang was clearly uninterested too, everything going in one ear and out the other.
The musicians led the way, followed by the matchmaker, then the bride’s sedan, with four dowry maids following behind, along with the eighty chests of dowry that had already paraded gloriously through the streets—a long procession indeed.
The front courtyard was said to be where the men received guests, but unlike Qiu Mansion’s front garden, here there were few trees and many flower beds, rising low from the ground. Where there were no flower beds, blue stone paving covered everything. The buildings were taller than those in Luo Zhou, but all single-story. The entire courtyard looked very spacious and tall, using predominantly blue and black colors, decorated with bright flowers, with curtains of pure white gauze hanging in rolls under the corridors, fluttering whenever the wind rose.
If Qiu Mansion leaned toward the south and therefore had the refined elegance of Jiangnan gardens, then Prince Jing’s front courtyard was genuinely Tang dynasty architectural style. Dignified yet graceful, solemn yet flowing.
“Prince Jing’s Mansion is so impressive.” Among the four maids, Lu Ju had spent the least time outside with Qiu Sanniang and had never been to the north.
Over the past fifty years, with more southern scholars migrating north to settle as merchants and officials, the overall style had changed. The Scholar’s Mansion’s architecture leaned toward the Jiangnan style, emphasizing delicate and exquisite gardens and layered pavilions. Therefore, it didn’t create too much psychological distance for these people from the south.
Lu Ju found it impressive—indeed, every plant and tree in Prince Jing’s Mansion seemed rougher and bolder than those in other homes. However, in Mo Zi’s eyes, what was more appreciated was the architecture itself, inherited from the Tang dynasty with its vast and open spirit, truly intoxicating. She even thought that even if she might not like the people living here, she probably couldn’t bring herself to dislike this mansion. That was good—living environment directly affected one’s psychology, and at least it could maintain a positive and uplifting mental state.
Past the front courtyard, they saw a passage wide enough for four horses to ride abreast, curving and extending in both directions. But the musicians didn’t turn either way, proceeding straight along the passage into a large gate plastered with the double happiness character.
This gate was one size smaller than Prince Jing’s main gate, with a plaque hanging above bearing golden characters reading “Jingfang Garden.”
Servants emerged from the gate entrance, along with the steward and other managers, inviting the matchmaker to speak, so they stopped at the gate.
Bai He turned around, her expression both nervous and joyful. “We’re about to enter the inner garden of the prince’s mansion. Lu Ju, stop looking around everywhere, or people will think we’re uncultured.”
She instructed Mo Zi, “Mo Zi, keep an eye on her. This girl usually loves watching the excitement most. Without someone constantly reminding her, I’m afraid she’ll forget what day today is.”
“I won’t. Don’t worry, I absolutely won’t embarrass our young miss.” Lu Ju pouted, quite indignant, but still made the promise.
For maids, their young miss’s wedding day was probably more important than their own.
“Bai He, rather than having me watch Lu Ju, you’d better keep a tight watch on Xiao Yi. Once she enters the garden, she’ll disappear without a trace.” Xiao Yi could achieve complete stealth, though Mo Zi’s words were intended to ease everyone’s tension.
“I haven’t seen any trees.” Xiao Yi also turned back to speak, looking quite dissatisfied. She was probably the only one among the four who had no interest in such princely grandeur.
“Xiao Yi, do you know why there are no large trees here?” Mo Zi watched the steward-like man whispering with the matchmaker with their backs to them, feeling this wasn’t a good sign. However, at this point, even if someone refused to marry, this marriage had to proceed to the end. By rights, the moment Qiu Sanniang stepped out of the mansion gates, she was already the third daughter-in-law of Prince Jing’s household.
The Emperor had praised the old prince’s excellent family management. With a grandson who had divorced two legitimate wives, if he ruined another marriage, Mo Zi really wanted to ask where exactly this excellence lay.
“Why no large trees?” Xiao Yi pressed, “Why not?” When it came to matters she cared about, not only was she not taciturn, she even repeated herself.
“Because they fear assassins.” Mo Zi’s eyes didn’t leave those two who still hadn’t finished whispering, though the explanation about fearing assassins wasn’t made up.
“If assassins come, just fight them off. What grudge is there against trees?” Xiao Yi, with her martial arts skills, feared neither heaven nor earth.
“Large trees by the walls let assassins enter the mansion. Large trees in the garden let assassins hide. The more large trees, the more assassins can hide, and they can’t all be fought off. So, simply have no trees.” At least, no deeply rooted, densely leafed large trees.
Xiao Yi’s face fell. “I don’t like this place.” She even said it directly.
The matchmaker’s voice rose, “I say, if the groom doesn’t come, how is the bride supposed to enter the door?”