Chapter 6
My brother’s wedding was magnificent. His betrothal gifts to the Song family filled an entire street.
The Xu residence blazed with lanterns and festive decorations.
More than a hundred embroiderers had labored over Miss Song’s wedding gown.
A month of hurried work had produced something exquisite, golden threads tracing auspicious clouds across the fabric.
Every step sent light rippling over it.
My brother was in high spirits. Amid the toasts and clinking cups, I thought I glimpsed An Muyang.
I immediately followed the figure.
I was afraid he would cause trouble. He stopped in the rear courtyard.
“Why are you here?” My tone was unfriendly.
He wore a laborer’s clothes. His hair was disheveled and tears had left tracks on his face.
“No. I’m not here to make trouble.” He shook his head desperately.
“I only wanted to see what the wedding my sister dreamed of would have looked like.”
An Muyang told me
that my brother had promised her
an entire street of betrothal gifts and the most beautiful bridal gown when they married.
“Qingzhu, I’ve seen it for my sister. The gown really is beautiful.”
Boom. Fireworks burst outside. Cups clinked.
Everyone was exchanging good wishes.
And all An Muyang’s hopes lay buried in that pit.
“Qingzhu.” Mother’s voice.
She called me over to inspect the promising young men attending the wedding.
I watched listlessly from behind a screen until my gaze settled on a man in blue-green robes.
As though he sensed it, he turned and raised his cup to me from across the room.
Tall as a pine, elegant and handsome, he had the clear serenity of moonlight and a fresh breeze. He might have stepped out of a painting.
“That’s Zhu Yanqing, our third-place scholar.”
Mother couldn’t help teasing me when she saw where I was staring.
“Does he appeal to you?” She would not let it go.
I surveyed the other brilliant young men, all red-faced with drink, and sighed inwardly.
“He’ll do.”
I withdrew behind the screen, but his long, narrow eyes stayed in my mind.
The scholar certainly had a fine face.
He came from a merchant family. The Drunken Immortal Pavilion belonged to the Zhus.
Mother had made inquiries.
Merchants had money but no power. I would live comfortably, and the family would be easy to manage. She approved.
I hadn’t thought much of the match before.
But on hearing he was heir to the Drunken Immortal Pavilion, I suddenly found myself entirely without objections.
All that wonderful food. Who could refuse?
Miss Song was delighted when she heard.
She was the greediest little thing when it came to food.
“Is he nice?” she kept asking.
She tugged my sleeve back and forth. The pearls at her ears swung too.
My brother had just found them for her: lustrous white South Sea pearls, beautifully formed and very expensive.
“Yes.” How would I know whether he was nice? He was certainly nice to look at.
“As nice as your brother?”
Her hair was now dressed as a married woman’s, but her manner remained innocent.
Since the wedding, her already round face had grown a little fuller, like the pearls beside it.
Her world was simple. Be good to me, and I will be good to you.