Youthful Glory

In the Great Xian Dynasty, it was customary for unmarried members of the imperial clan to act as proxies in welcoming the bride for royal weddings. For Prince Dingbei's wedding, it had long been arranged that the newly-crowned Rui Commandery Prince would stand in as the groom's representative.

Yet unexpectedly, just as Ming Tan had been roused at dawn for her bridal preparations—with Madams, young ladies, and all manner of female relatives crowding her courtyard to offer boisterous well-wishes—an elderly maidservant burst in with flushed excitement, announcing: "Heavens! The groom himself has come to fetch our bride!"

Ming Tan, sleep-deprived and dragged from her silken quilts before daybreak, had been drifting in drowsiness. At these words, as if catching a familiar whiff of sandalwood, she suddenly grew alert.

So it was real after all.

He truly had come last night.

Jiang Xu's midnight visit had been abrupt in both arrival and departure. After his brief explanation, he'd vanished into the night in the blink of an eye, leaving Ming Tan leaning against her windowsill in dazed disbelief—wondering if her longing heart had conjured the entire encounter as wishful illusion.

Why would Prince Dingbei secretly visit a maiden's quarters at such an hour? Moreover, since when had he ever spoken so many words?

Unable to resist, she'd even thrown on a robe to search the courtyard for evidence of her betrothed's improbable nocturnal visit. Of course, she found nothing—which was why, despite knowing she'd wed the next day, lingering doubts had stolen her sleep.

Now, with the servant's announcement, the bridal chambers erupted in fresh excitement:

"Since childhood I've said our Fourth Miss is blessed—see how the groom himself comes fetching her!"

"None but the Xian Commandery Prince years ago has shown such honor by fetching his bride in person."

"But the Xian Prince and his consort shared a childhood bond—all the capital knows of his devotion."

"Precisely why our Fourth Miss is fortunate! And those betrothal gifts! Ah, only Prince Dingbei's household could present such magnificence!"

...

As the chatter swirled, Ming Tan felt sweetness blossom in her chest—her husband-to-be had truly come for her.

She'd dreaded the traditional bridal threading ceremony, fearing the pain would ruin her beauty. Yet though the silk thread plucking at her face stung, it proved more bearable than imagined.

The consort's ceremonial robes were extravagantly ornate: crimson and gold phoenixes, mandarin ducks, peonies, and twin lotuses layered upon layers, with tinkling pendants and embroidered slippers of exquisite detail. The phoenix crown alone weighed like a boulder, its jewels and pearls dazzling beyond distraction.

Once fully adorned, Ming Tan could barely rise without assistance, requiring support to navigate her heavy regalia with care.

Custom demanded the bride weep while bidding farewell to her parents, but Marquis Jing'an's household overflowed with joy. Madam Pei at least dabbed pepper-water to redden her eyes, while Ming Tingyuan beamed without shedding a tear. Ming Tan herself couldn't cry—not after the morning's meticulous makeup application. Smudged cosmetics would require tedious reapplication.

Thus the main hall echoed only with Ming Tan and Madam Pei's half-hearted sniffles, while Ming Tingyuan rambled advice before concluding with palpable eagerness: "Anyway, Prince Dingbei's residence isn't far—visit whenever you wish!"

If the marquis' household bustled with excitement, the streets outside roared with celebration.The wedding procession at the main gate of Marquis Jing'an's residence was even more spectacular than the parade of scholars during the imperial examination results announcement.

The renowned Second Young Master Shu, the imperial uncle's heir from Duke Ping's household, and Deputy Commander Lu Ting of the Imperial Guards—figures rarely seen in public—had all gathered here, not to mention the numerous nobles and military officers in attendance.

Yet the most striking figure among them was none other than the Great Xian's God of War, Prince Dingbei, resplendent in crimson wedding robes atop his steed.

Though his martial reputation shook the empire, few had ever laid eyes on him. Today's sight left the crowd awestruck, as if beholding a celestial being.

With sword-like brows and starry eyes, his jet-black hair contrasting against fiery red garments, he held the reins with an air of casual dominance.

If Second Young Master Shu embodied "jade-like elegance unmatched in this world," then Prince Dingbei exemplified "peerless brilliance without equal."

His fearsome reputation preceded him—when he dismounted to enter the residence, the crowd instinctively retreated half a zhang, some nearly dropping to their knees in involuntary reverence.

Initially cowed into silence, no one dared demand the customary door-opening gifts until Bai Minmin, fearless as ever, rushed from Ming Tan's bridal chamber to demand wedding poems and lucky money. Her sister-in-law couldn't restrain her, nearly fainting from fright.

To everyone's surprise, Prince Dingbei proved unexpectedly accommodating. As if prepared, he nodded and immediately composed a door-opening poem, while attendants showered Bai Minmin with golden peanut favors.

Emboldened by her example, younger members of the Jing'an household grew increasingly boisterous. Elders, not daring to pester the prince, instead teased Second Young Master Shu and Zhang Huaiyu.

By the time Ming Tan appeared on her father Ming Tingyuan's arm, Jiang Xu was already reciting his fourth impromptu poem.

Many assumed these verses had been prepared in advance—with a literary master like Second Young Master Shu present, surely someone had drafted them. But when someone recklessly demanded poems in specific ci patterns, onlookers braced for disaster.

Yet the prince merely paused briefly before flawlessly composing another metrical poem, astonishing all present.

Could this warrior-prince truly possess such literary talent? Were these actually his own compositions?

With military genius, scholarly grace, breathtaking looks, and supreme authority—what fortune blessed the fourth daughter of Marquis Jing'an! These thoughts filled every witness as Ming Tan entered her palanquin.

At the shrill cry of "Raise the palanquin!" echoing through South Magpie Street, the procession resumed with fanfare.

The route became a river of crimson—drums and pipes thundered while ceremonial cannons roared. The groom's party led on stately steeds, followed by the bride's eight-carried palanquin and Jing'an household's 168 dowry chests winding from South Magpie Street through Imperial Avenue to Changyu Street, creating an endless tapestry of scarlet grandeur.

Later generations would say no wedding in Chengkang era ever matched this splendor.

Compared to Jing'an residence's jubilant chaos, Prince Dingbei's mansion—though similarly decked in red—felt strangely subdued. Its grander scale and Jiang Xu's lack of close relatives created an air of solemnity amidst the celebration.Ming Tan entered the marriage as the consort of a first-rank prince, first undergoing the ceremonial rites. After the rites, the grand wedding ceremony took place in the main hall. Fortunately, with no parents-in-law above her, it was relatively relaxed.

Pressed beneath the weight of her phoenix crown, Ming Tan had endured the tedious journey until her head and spine ached with numbness. By the time the three bows concluded, her legs were so weak she could barely stand. It was only with her husband’s support that she managed to avoid losing composure in front of the guests.

After the three bows, it was time to escort the newlyweds to the bridal chamber.

Holding the ceremonial red silk, Ming Tan could only see the small space beneath her feet, most of which was obscured by the intricate layers of her wedding dress. Gripping one end of the silk as decorum dictated, she followed Jiang Xu’s slow lead, carefully stepping into the bridal chamber.

In ordinary households, the bridal chamber would be lively with guests teasing the couple, but Prince Dingbei’s residence had few relatives, and no one dared to make a fuss. Thus, it was exceptionally quiet, with only the matron of honor inside reciting auspicious blessings.

Jiang Xu took the heavy wedding scale and gently lifted the veil—

Thump, thump… Ming Tan’s heart pounded fiercely. Just as she hesitated whether to raise her eyes and meet her husband’s gaze, she heard him calmly instruct, “Summon the consort’s maids.”

Ming Tan looked up in confusion.

Jiang Xu was already gazing at her quietly. “The phoenix crown is too heavy—better to remove it. Let them attend to you. I will go out to entertain the guests.”

He actually knew the crown was heavy.

Meeting his eyes, Ming Tan felt an involuntary flicker of happiness.

Once Jiang Xu left, Suxin and Lü’e entered. Ming Tan quickly beckoned them to help remove the heavy phoenix crown. She rubbed her stiff neck, freshened up, and changed into another set of red sleeping robes.

While Ming Tan busied herself and finally had a moment to rest, Jiang Xu’s duties outside had only just begun.

The military generals, friends, and subordinates who usually dared not overstep their bounds now seized the chance to openly toast him.

On such a joyous occasion, Jiang Xu had no reason to refuse. He accepted every cup, downing each in one go.

The banquet lasted well into the night. Many married officers, emboldened by wine, took the opportunity to impart marital advice to Prince Dingbei.

Though Shu Jingran and Zhang Huaiyu were unmarried, after a few drinks, they too became long-winded, offering their own theories:

Shu Jingran: “Now that you’re married, you absolutely must not be too cold to your wife on your wedding night. Think about it—you’ll be sharing a bed, and she’s bound to be shy. You can’t just stay silent like usual!”

“Exactly! A few more words won’t kill you!” Zhang Huaiyu chimed in.

“Tsk, tsk—such inauspicious talk! Why mention that word on such a happy day? Qizhi, listen to me, my advice is sound.” Shu Jingran covered his lips as he hiccuped, his voice thick with drunkenness. “Find topics your wife enjoys—definitely don’t bring up battles or military tactics. For example, you could discuss… poetry and literature. It’s not like you’re ignorant of such things.”

“Right, you have to initiate conversation. You can’t just jump straight to the main event—there needs to be buildup, understand?” When Zhang Huaiyu mentioned “the main event,” he shot Jiang Xu a teasing look, clearly implying mischief.

Jiang Xu swept an indifferent glance over the two of them, whether he took their words to heart or not was unclear. He turned instead to clink cups with Lu Ting, downing another drink.

By the end of the hour of Hai, the night was deep and quiet.Ming Tan, who had retired early to the bridal chamber, finally waited for her husband, who reeked of alcohol. She was quite awake at this moment, having rested earlier and eaten some pastries, now fully refreshed and bored enough to consider flipping through the fire prevention manual Madam Pei had slipped her before leaving.

Fortunately, she hadn’t opened it.

Seeing Jiang Xu enter, she sat up straight at the edge of the bed.

Though Jiang Xu carried the strong scent of liquor, his mind was clearly still clear. He walked to the table and stood there, hands behind his back, gazing at Ming Tan before calling softly, "Come here."

"…?"

Ming Tan obediently rose and approached the table.

She was nearly a head shorter than Jiang Xu, and with her elaborate hairdo undone, the top of her head barely reached his chin.

Standing so close, the heavy smell of alcohol mixed with faint sandalwood made Ming Tan’s face flush and her heart race, leaving her somewhat flustered.

Taking the nuptial wine Jiang Xu had poured and handed to her, her hands trembled slightly without her realizing. When they linked arms to drink, her height made it impossible—she had to stand on tiptoe, yet the cup still seemed too far away!

But Jiang Xu looked down at her, then suddenly leaned in, accommodating her stature as he lowered his head to drink from the cup.