After Ji Minzhong’s case was concluded, the capital entered the most stifling days of the late seventh-month heat.
Yet the activity at court was even more heated than the weather outside.
After Ji Minzhong’s downfall, several important positions in the Ministry of Personnel became vacant. The Grand Secretary and the Assistant Grand Secretary each recommended their own candidates, arguing back and forth before the Emperor for several days.
In the end, the Emperor made the decision himself, transferring two Surveillance Commissioners from the provinces to the capital to fill the vacancies and thoroughly purging Ji Minzhong’s former associates.
As for Northern Pacifying Marquis Zhao Heng, after being stripped of his active duties, his military authority was left vacant. The Five Military Commands submitted several memorials recommending successors, but the Emperor suppressed them all and simply instructed the Ministry of War to oversee matters temporarily.
Ye Xian cared nothing about any of it.
After the case ended, he transferred all the impeachment memorials and old records in his possession to the Censorate archives and, for the first time in memory, requested five days of leave.
Lady Gao was delighted.
Ever since her son had come of age, he had either been at the Censorate or in his study. Even on his official rest days, he spent his time poring over old files and investigating cases. Now he had actually requested leave on his own initiative.
She immediately ordered the kitchen to prepare a pot of gastrodia pigeon soup. She had the half-dead orchids in Ye Xian’s courtyard replaced with fresh blooming cymbidiums and even changed the velvet mattress on his bamboo couch for a new one.
As it turned out, Ye Xian did not spend much of those five days resting.
On the first day, he spent the entire day studying maps in his study.
On the second day, his mother dragged him to Great Ci’en Temple to fulfill a vow.
On the third day, Xu Jingting hauled him to the riding grounds for a few rounds on horseback.
And on the fourth day, he went to Gu Family Residence.
Gu Dezhao had just returned from the yamen and had not even changed out of his official robes when the gatekeeper reported that the Heir Apparent of Changxing Marquis Residence had come to visit.
The movement of setting down his teacup slowed by half a beat.
The last time they had met outside Qianqing Gate, Ye Xian had spoken with complete openness and confidence before him. From the old records of the Imperial Stud Office to inviting the ladies of the Marquis Residence to a theatrical performance, he had seamlessly turned public matters into private ones without leaving the slightest trace.
A young man capable of speaking so flawlessly outside Qianqing Gate would certainly not be paying a personal visit today merely to discuss the weather.
“Show him in.”
Gu Dezhao straightened his robes and had Ye Xian escorted to the main hall.
When Ye Xian entered, he was not carrying the usual box of pastries.
Instead, he held a long brocade case.
After placing it on the side table, he first bowed with the courtesy of a junior before calmly taking his seat.
His movements remained composed and unhurried.
Yet after sitting down, he neither touched the tea nor rushed to speak. He simply waited quietly for Gu Dezhao to speak first.
Gu Dezhao’s gaze swept over the brocade case.
The exterior was plain silk without any identifying seal. Its origin could not be determined, yet somehow it seemed unusually weighty.
Then he looked at the young man seated opposite him.
Young in age.
Heir Apparent of Changxing Marquis Residence.
Future hereditary Iron-Cap Marquis.
Left Assistant Censor-in-Chief.
The man who had only recently concluded the case that shook the entire court.
The whole capital was talking about how Changxing Marquis Residence had produced a worthy successor.
Yet sitting in the reception hall of the Gu family, he displayed not the slightest hint of pride or arrogance.
He was as calm as deep water.
A certain suspicion began to form in Gu Dezhao’s mind.
“May I ask what brings Heir Apparent Ye here today?”
Ye Xian did not answer immediately.
Instead, he opened the brocade case.
Inside lay a white jade wild-goose pendant.
The jade was warm and lustrous. The goose’s neck curved elegantly.
It was precisely the traditional token used during the betrothal rites.
“This junior came today…”
Ye Xian lifted his eyes.
His voice was steady.
“…to ask Lord Gu for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”
The bottom of the teacup in Gu Dezhao’s hand struck the rosewood table with a crisp sound.
Silence filled the hall.
Ye Xian sat upright as straight as bamboo, his hands folded over his knees.
He offered no explanations.
No additions.
Nor did he avert his gaze.
He simply sat there quietly, waiting for an answer he had long hoped for and yet feared might not be granted.
Gu Dezhao looked at him.
He looked at the fingers resting on the young man’s knees.
No tapping.
No fidgeting.
Not the slightest movement.
He was nervous.
But the nervousness was not in his hands.
It was hidden in the unusual restraint of his silence.
“Heir Apparent Ye, the Gu family is not of particularly high standing.”
Gu Dezhao spoke slowly. There was neither self-deprecation nor resentment in his tone. He was simply stating a fact.
“Though Jinzhao is my legitimate eldest daughter, our family has produced only mid-ranking officials for three generations. We cannot compare to the Ye family and its hereditary marquisate.”
“If you wished to marry a girl of equal status, the capital is filled with noble daughters to choose from. Why Jinzhao in particular?”
“Because when she was three, she tugged on my sleeve. When she was six, she embroidered a pouch for me. When she was sixteen and heard Ji Minzhong’s name behind Fuguang Temple, she didn’t run away—she stepped forward instead.”
“And she offered scroll after scroll of prayers for me before the Buddha. She thought I didn’t know. I simply hadn’t had the chance to tell her.”
His voice remained steady.
Only at the final sentence did his Adam’s apple shift slightly.
A faint, almost imperceptible softness appeared in his eyes.
“From beginning to end, she was never afraid.”
“Never afraid that standing beside me would bring trouble.”
“A woman like that…”
He paused.
“…I will never meet a second one in this lifetime.”
“And she is the only one I acknowledge.”
Gu Dezhao remained silent for a long time.
“If Jinzhao herself is willing, then as her father, I will not object.”
He lifted his teacup, took a sip, and set it down.
Then his tone shifted, becoming more practical.
“But there is one matter I must clarify first. Heir Apparent Ye, what did the Imperial Medical Bureau say about your heart condition?”
At last, Ye Xian’s fingers moved.
Not from nervousness.
But from having a deeply private wound touched.
“It is a weakness I was born with.”
“The Imperial Physicians said I must not overwork myself, must not catch cold, and must not become angry.”
He paused.
“But they also said that if I take proper care of myself, living to seventy or eighty will not be a problem.”
“I’ve taken my medicine regularly all these years. The condition is stable. It won’t cause her—or the Gu family—any worry.”
He finished the last sentence quickly, like a blade that had been drawn halfway before being pushed back into its sheath.
Gu Dezhao studied him quietly.
He suddenly thought of Lady Gao.
He remembered receiving that package wrapped in oil paper outside Qianqing Gate and the expression Ye Xian had failed to conceal in time.
It had not been guilt.
Nor had it been an attempt to curry favor.
It had been certainty.
A determination that allowed no doubt.
“Heir Apparent Ye.”
He sighed softly.
His tone gentled considerably.
“You are sincere. But marriage is not merely a matter of personal wishes. There are proper procedures.”
“Do you know that according to protocol, you must first submit a memorial requesting an imperial decree?”
“I know.”
Ye Xian immediately withdrew a draft memorial from his sleeve and placed it on the table.
“This junior has already prepared the memorial for Qianqing Palace. I’m only waiting for Lord Gu’s approval before submitting it.”
For a moment, Gu Dezhao was stunned.
Then he could not help laughing.
This young man had actually brought a completed draft memorial with him when proposing marriage.
Clearly, he had already calculated every step.
Yet Gu Dezhao did not feel offended.
Instead, he was touched.
What he saw was not scheming.
It was earnestness.
“You truly have thought everything through.”
Gu Dezhao unfolded the draft.
The memorial was impeccably written.
The wording was proper.
The tone respectful.
There was not a single flaw to be found.
After reading it, he looked at Ye Xian again and suddenly felt that his daughter’s judgment might actually be better than his own.
Before entering this doorway today, the young man had already secured every step.
From the memorial destined for Qianqing Palace to the words he had just spoken, not a single move was unnecessary, and not one step had been uncertain.
“Very well.”
He placed the draft back on the table and stood.
Walking to the doorway, he called for a maid.
“Qing Pu, bring the eldest young lady here.”
Qing Pu peeked into the hall.
Seeing that the guest was the Heir Apparent of Changxing Marquis Residence, she calmly answered, “Yes, Master,” before hurrying toward Jinzhao’s courtyard.
She moved so quickly that the wind pulled half her skirt askew.
Gu Jinzhao was staring blankly at an account book in her room.
Not because there was anything wrong with the accounts.
Rather, while copying the Heart Sutra earlier, she had accidentally written an extra sentence that had left her distracted ever since.
She could write the words May you remain safe and well without hesitation.
Yet today, while copying scripture, another line had slipped from her brush.
She had not dared read it carefully.
She had immediately crossed it out with ink.
When Qing Pu burst through the door, she was just stuffing the ruined page into the wastebasket.
“Miss, Heir Apparent Ye is here speaking with Master in the main hall. Master requests your presence.”
Gu Jinzhao’s hand paused.
She nudged the wastebasket farther under the table and rose to smooth the wrinkles in her skirt.
She was once again wearing that pale green high-collared jacket.
The white jade bracelet on her wrist swayed softly.
Qing Pu followed behind her.
After several steps, she suddenly whispered,
“Miss, you’re walking too fast. Your skirt is bunching up.”
“Talkative.”
Gu Jinzhao did not slow down.
She merely tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and continued at exactly the same pace.
When she reached the entrance to the main hall, she happened to hear her father’s voice.
“If Jinzhao is willing, I will naturally support her.”
She paused outside the threshold for a single breath.
Then she stepped inside.
The first thing she saw was Ye Xian’s back.
The moon-white robe with subtle floral patterns.
The bamboo-patterned jade hairpin.
His perfectly straight posture.
Then he turned around.
Their eyes met.
He did not look away.
His gaze remained steady.
Yet she saw the fingers holding the draft memorial tighten briefly before slowly relaxing.
“Jinzhao,” Gu Dezhao said, “Heir Apparent Ye has come today to propose marriage. I have already agreed.”
Gu Jinzhao blinked.
She did not say, “Thank you, Father.”
Nor did she say, “I will follow Father’s decision.”
Instead, she withdrew her gaze from Ye Xian and bowed.
Her voice was clear and steady.
“Daughter has one question for Heir Apparent Ye.”
Gu Dezhao raised an eyebrow and gestured for her to proceed.
Turning toward Ye Xian, Gu Jinzhao tilted her head slightly.
A faint smile appeared at the corner of her lips.
“Heir Apparent, did you come to propose today because you wanted to, or because Lady Gao urged you to?”
Ye Xian adjusted his sleeve.
His tone lacked its usual lazy drawl.
In the afternoon sunlight streaming through the hall, the tips of his ears had turned faintly red.
“I wanted to come myself.”
“It wasn’t on the way.”
“It wasn’t out of convenience.”
Gu Jinzhao lowered her head.
Pressing her lips together, she lightly tapped the doorframe with the white jade bracelet on her wrist.
The bracelet struck the wood with a tiny, crisp sound.
The noise concealed the smile threatening to appear.
Nearby, Gu Dezhao lifted the cup of tea that had long since gone cold.
After taking a sip, he decided that it was probably the worst cup of tea he had ever tasted.
Or perhaps the best.
Three days later, Ye Xian’s memorial requesting permission to marry was submitted to the Office of Transmission.
The wording was entirely proper.
Nothing more than:
“This subject, Ye Xian, has reached adulthood and remains unmarried. The legitimate eldest daughter of Vice Minister of the Imperial Stud Office Gu Dezhao, Gu Jinzhao, is virtuous and refined. I humbly request permission to form a marital alliance…”
Yet the officials handling the memorial noticed something unusual.
The handwriting differed from Ye Xian’s usual impeachment memorials.
His memorials of accusation were lean and sharp, every stroke cutting like a drawn blade.
The handwriting on this marriage petition, however, was exceptionally neat.
Every character was patient and unhurried.
Like copying scripture in small regular script.
Like tracing an object that had rested beside him for a very long time.
When the Emperor read the memorial, he was reviewing state documents in the Imperial Study.
He read it from beginning to end.
When he reached the phrase “the legitimate daughter of the Gu family, virtuous and refined,” he suddenly laughed.
Zhang He stood respectfully nearby and heard the Emperor remark,
“This boy. He has barely finished solving a case before coming to claim his reward.”
Then the Emperor picked up his vermilion brush and wrote two characters at the end of the memorial:
Approved.
“Convey my verbal decree.”
Setting down the brush, the Emperor looked at Zhang He.
“Grant a marriage between Heir Apparent Ye Xian of Changxing Marquis Residence and Gu Jinzhao, the legitimate eldest daughter of Vice Minister of the Imperial Stud Office Gu Dezhao.”