On the sixth day of the fourth month, the atmosphere in the capital was somewhat eerie.
Although the imperial proclamation was posted hastily, everyone knew this was the King’s wedding day. For such a joyous occasion, they should be celebrating grandly on the streets, but the Capital Guard led by the Maer family, from daybreak, sealed off the markets and prohibited commoners from moving about in the territories under their jurisdiction. Anyone who peeked around was immediately reprimanded or punished with beatings—a scene of gloom and misery. Not only the Maer family, but other noble families also strictly ordered their servants and attendants not to discuss anything about the grand wedding, keeping their doors tightly shut, forbidding casual outings. The districts not under lockdown were affected by this as well—many shopkeepers voluntarily closed their doors, and pedestrians were far fewer than usual.
Those bold enough and fond of spectacle huddled in small teahouses, and before long this ballad spread:
The King takes a bride, the Queen is befuddled, Daqiu and Han, henceforth undivided. Divided yet not, secret rites proceed, no joy no clamor, marriage achieved indeed. Who becomes our Queen, only Consort Xiang we know. Consort Xiang on the right, how can another stand left? Ehuang and Nuying, existed in antiquity, difficult today.
Mo Zi followed protocol with morning ablutions and changing clothes. When Xiao Yi shook her head and recited this ballad to her, she said it was quite talented.
“Right now my head really is dizzy and confused. To put it nicely, it’s a grand wedding, but actually it’s not much different from a forced marriage. Consort Xiang has put in considerable effort to make the common people know only her name. For Concubine Ying to defeat her won’t be easy either.”
Luo Ying helped her put on the national consort’s robe with its golden phoenix, rosy clouds, long trailing hem, and wide sleeves. “What time is it, and you’re still worrying about others? Seeing you wearing six layers of wedding garments inside and out, I’m truly afraid you’ll become Daqiu’s national consort today.”
Mo Zi was just about to comfort her.
Xiao Yi said, “Someone’s coming, footsteps very urgent.”
“Could it be the King of Daqiu?” Luo Ying guessed.
Mo Zi’s eyes flashed. She immediately said loudly, “All of you get out! I won’t put on makeup, won’t have my hair done. I won’t wear this crushing flower crown. Get out now!”
Luo Ying immediately understood she didn’t want the King of Daqiu to become suspicious of them, and hurriedly pulled Xiao Yi out.
Wu Yanqie only saw the backs of two palace maids. Upon entering the inner room, he nearly got hit square on by a rouge box, and couldn’t help but sigh. “A Zi, why can’t you be a cheerful bride?”
Mo Zi looked at him coldly. “Why can’t you give up the idea of marrying me? When the King of Daqiu takes a consort, the whole nation should celebrate together. What’s it like now? How many memorials opposing this are piled on your desk, and how many nobles and high ministers outside refuse to accept you marrying me? If you persist willfully, hearts will turn away and virtues will be lost.”
Wu Yanqie suddenly smiled. “A Zi still worries about me.”
“I’m not worried about you, just analyzing facts.” Don’t feel too good about yourself.
He strode forward, like eagle wings swooping urgently, pain and anger in his brown eyes, along with thick emotion that couldn’t dissolve.
Before Mo Zi could retreat, he grasped her shoulders. Though she no longer had feelings for him, facing such eyes, she couldn’t maintain direct eye contact.
“A Zi, do you not dare look at me?” With her, he never called himself “the solitary one,” because she wouldn’t let him be lonely. “Those past moments, bit by bit, the words still ring in my ears, affection tender and sweet, unforgotten to this day. I made mistakes, you won’t forgive me—then can we start over?”
“Wu Yanqie, do you know why I insist on saying I won’t marry you? Because I can no longer trust you.” Without trust, how can one become husband and wife?
Wu Yanqie sighed. “I also said, starting over, I’ll make you trust me again.”
Mo Zi opened her mouth to speak, but then thought—if she really made him give up completely and cancel the wedding, then she couldn’t enter the temple, and couldn’t save Jin Yin either.
“What did you come here for?” Now it was her turn to sigh. “You can’t meet before the grand wedding—you’ve violated propriety.”
“I have to see with my own eyes that you board the phoenix palanquin before I can be at ease.” She was much more cunning than before—he feared complications. Looking at her in her phoenix robe, lips red without rouge, hair not yet styled or crowned, yet so beautiful his heart stirred. “A Zi, you’re so beautiful today.”
His large palm stroked her cheek. Delicate skin, soft lips—his eyes tightened, unable to help leaning forward.
But she turned her face away, refusing his intimacy.
His heart ached again. He slowly withdrew, released her shoulders, and took something from his chest. “Do you still remember this?”
It was a heart-blood red comb, the back of the comb’s teeth inlaid with alternating purple and ink-colored phoenix stones, pure white crystal stones like stars in the night sky. The other side was micro-carved with dozens of peony flowers, newly cleaned and maintained, very beautiful.
“I had it re-set, exactly the same as before.” He seemed to be claiming credit.
Her breathing halted. Too late—did he know? Now no matter what he did, she couldn’t respond anymore.
He didn’t see her dejection. He led her to sit before the bronze mirror, using that comb to style her hair.
“I comb with you, my heart delights; I comb with you, my heart rejoices; I comb with you, comb until affection deepens; I comb with you, comb until white-haired.” He recited softly.
Looking at the two reflections in the bronze mirror, Mo Zi bit her teeth hard, widening her eyes, not letting herself shed tears. Memory was truly a powerful thing—thinking it forgotten, its reappearance could be like a tsunami or landslide.
The last time he styled her hair was also when this comb was just made. She was fifteen, he was nineteen. At that time, she had determined he was her only one.
“Royal brother, you should go to the temple.” Wu Yanle’s voice came from outside.
“Ye’er.” Wu Yanqie called.
Ye’er walked in, wearing a peach-blossom pink auspicious court dress, clearly accompanying them to the temple.
“You crown A Zi.” After saying this, he looked deeply at Mo Zi once and left.
Mo Zi let out a breath. Of course she couldn’t be moved again, but Wu Yanqie being so conciliatory made the pressure feel too great.
Ye’er stepped forward to style her hair into a bun. Seeing she wasn’t cold and harsh as before, thinking she’d been moved by the King and softened, somewhat pleased, “Miss is truly both beautiful and noble—indeed only you are worthy of the King.”
But Mo Zi said nothing. Until Ye’er finished putting on her flower crown, she didn’t utter a single word.
Ye’er said, done.
Mo Zi stood up, turned without looking at Ye’er, and walked out.
Ye’er followed closely, carefully watching Mo Zi’s expression, and couldn’t help but feel alarmed. That expression was very cold, so cold she suddenly had a very bad premonition. But clearly today was a joyous day.
“Miss—” She couldn’t help saying, “The King’s determination regarding you is absolute. No matter… whatever schemes you may have, it’s best to abandon them. Because the King has prepared to stain the temple with blood.”
Mo Zi stopped abruptly, her gaze full of cold intent. “Stain the temple with blood?”
“The King knows you didn’t come alone.” Afraid that Wu Yanle waiting outside would hear, Ye’er leaned close to her ear.
Mo Zi narrowed her eyes and actually smiled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Ye’er’s face showed sorrow. “Miss doesn’t trust me—that’s what I deserve. But please listen to me this once—never act rashly at the temple, otherwise the one who’ll be heartbroken is you, Miss.”
“You mean Wu Yanqie knows what I’m going to do, has arranged everything beforehand, planning to guard against me?” Mo Zi flicked her sleeve. “Ridiculous. If I could escape, I would have escaped long ago. Why wait until entering the temple?”
“A Zi.” Wu Yanle at the door just heard this, looking somewhat reproachfully at Ye’er. “Royal brother isn’t guarding against you, he just doesn’t want complications.”
Ye’er lowered her head.
“Sister.” Dou Lu was blocked by Wu Yanle and couldn’t get through. “Move aside, Wu Fatty.”
Wu Yanle smiled at Dou Lu though. “Little Bean, if you’re capable, jump over my head.”
Mo Zi saw Wu Yanle’s completely different attitudes toward the two, pushed him aside, and pulled Dou Lu along. “Wu Yanle, my sister has a husband—don’t tease her.”
Wu Yanle scoffed. “A Zi is too much. We grew up together, yet you help outsiders instead of me. Royal brother has already promised Little Bean to me. Once you two have your grand wedding today, next month will be our turn.”
“Wu Fatty, you already have a good girl by your side—aren’t you satisfied? Be careful, if you lose her, she’ll be gone.” Dou Lu and Wu Yanle were originally Mo Zi’s little followers—the two’s feelings were actually sibling affection.
Wu Yanle scratched his head. “Who?”
Mo Zi saw Ye’er’s face turn deathly pale, naturally knowing her heart was wounded. Though it wasn’t her business, Wu Yanle wanting to marry Dou Lu was also impossible.
So she put on a cold face. “Wu Yanle, do you think my sister’s marriage is children playing house? Her husband is still alive—how can she remarry?”
Wu Yanle had wanted to ease the atmosphere—after all, they’d grown up playing together. He hoped Mo Zi could reconcile with royal brother, and hoped everyone would stay together forever without separation. Seeing Mo Zi so aggressive, his expression darkened.
Clasping his hands in salute, he performed a formal bow, no longer joking. “Requesting that Song family’s eldest daughter Mo Zi board the phoenix palanquin wedding carriage. The princess please stay.” Dou Lu had already been enfeoffed as a princess.
“Why can’t I go?” Dou Lu rarely spoke urgently.
“The King’s command.” Wu Yanle said “please” to Mo Zi.
“Dou Lu, it’s fine.” Mo Zi also didn’t plan to let Dou Lu follow.
So she was “escorted” by a squad of shadow guards out the Song residence’s main gate. She had no interest in the gorgeous golden-yellow phoenix palanquin, but was greatly shocked upon seeing a mass of soldiers wearing iron armor.
“This is…” The scale was too grand, wasn’t it?
“My personal guard unit.” Wu Yanle explained simply. “Afraid someone would abduct you midway.”
“Am I a condemned prisoner?” Mo Zi snorted. “Don’t worry—if there’s an abduction, it’ll have to be at the execution ground.”
Wu Yanle heard this and laughed. “A Zi, wouldn’t it be good to just live peacefully with royal brother?”
“It’s not that I don’t want peace, but others won’t let me have peace.” Mo Zi then shook her head. “Moreover, even if others now let me have peace, I can no longer have peace.”
Wu Yanle was confused by her roundabout talk, so he simply ordered departure and said nothing more.
Not mentioning the cold and desolate scenery along the way, they arrived at Eagle God Temple.
The temple was built tightly against the mountain. A heaven-worshipping platform, ninety-nine stone steps leading to the top, atop which was a celestial hall enshrining the golden statue of the Eagle God. High towers in the east, south, west, and north, symbolizing the guarding of the four directions. The grand wedding ceremony would be held in the celestial hall.
As soon as Mo Zi entered the temple, she first looked at the guards. But she discovered the numbers were far fewer than imagined. Besides twenty or thirty black-clad warriors below the steps, plus Wu Yanle’s hundred-man personal guard unit, going upward she only saw monks. But she quickly discovered something wrong!
Among Daqiu’s noble princes, only Grand Chancellor Duange brought his sons, while clans like Kena and Maer were completely absent. Court officials were also sparse and scattered, missing more than half.
Was this meant to show they didn’t bless the newlyweds?
How fitting—they knew her heart well.