Before the gates of Shen Fu, crimson gauze lanterns hung high, the lintel adorned with golden-powdered double-happiness characters, flanked by elegant wedding couplets penned by Shen Cen’s colleagues.
Within the courtyard, red silk ribbons were tied to the branches of winter plum blossoms. Female relatives, their hair adorned with red velvet flowers, moved about amidst continuous laughter and chatter.
Shen Fenghuo exchanged only a few words with Shen Cen and his principal wife, Wang Shi, before being escorted out the door.
At the entrance, the sound of Shen Qingwan’s sniffling sobs reached her ears.
“Wanniang, your crying is truly unpleasant to hear.”
She chuckled softly, “How is it only sound, without a single drop of rain?”
Shen Qingwan raised a hand to wipe away nonexistent tears, chiding, “Ungrateful child! You’re covering your view with the Happiness-Union Fan—how can you tell I’m not crying?”
“Whether you’re truly crying or pretending, I’ve heard it since childhood—how could I not tell?”
The two bantered for a while until the sound of hooves from the wedding procession drew near, the drums and music growing louder.
Shen Qingwan looked up and forgot to continue her “crying bride” act.
The approaching man wore deep crimson wedding robes, a jade belt cinched at his waist, his posture as straight and dignified as a pine tree.
Snow settled in his jet-black hair, yet even standing amidst the swirling wind and snow, he could not conceal his noble, imposing presence.
It was actually him.
Shen Qingwan leaned close to Shen Fenghuo’s ear, “Little A’He, you’ve hit the jackpot this time—Young Minister Lu is a handsome gentleman.”
Shen Fenghuo replied helplessly, “Nonsense again. Ever since you came to Chang’an, you think everyone is handsome.”
When Shen Fenghuo was welcomed into the bridal sedan, Shen Qingwan truly shed a few tears.
However, a plump pouch of nuptial coins was tossed out from behind the sedan’s curtain into her hands, and she smiled again.
“Little A’He, let’s have tea together tomorrow.”
Shen Qingwan squeezed into the crowd, following the bridal sedan as it proceeded grandly toward Young Minister Lu’s residence.
Ever since she had adopted her, she had resolved to find a good family for A’He in the future, determined not to let her follow in her mother’s footsteps.
The money earned from dancing had been saved to nearly thirty taels, yet A’He only asked her to buy a hairpin as dowry.
Becoming a daughter of the Shen family again, becoming the principal wife of Young Minister Lu’s household—this was a good match, wasn’t it?
Though she didn’t understand why that Shen family daughter was unwilling to marry over, she would earn more money and save it for her. If A’He was unhappy, even if he was the Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review, they wouldn’t want him.
Shen Cen watched the departing bridal sedan and actually wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.
If it weren’t for Wei’er’s refusal to marry, he would not have seen this daughter again.
Old Madam Lu had originally chosen his Wei’er, saying that a scholarly family could manage her own restless boy.
Shen Cen was naturally overjoyed. He knew Lu Jin was handsome in appearance and gentle in character—his daughter Shen Wei should have enjoyed good fortune marrying him. How could he be a “restless boy”?
On the day of the tea gathering for the daytime meeting, Shen Wei took one distant look and was determined to marry no one else.
Who could have known that Lu Jin, busy with official duties, left after only a few sips of tea? When he came to fetch Old Madam Lu at dusk, his robes were disheveled, his expression indifferent, his face stained with blood.
Shen Wei and several noble young ladies secretly watched at the entrance, only to see him toss a bloody human head to his subordinate, then with a swift “slash,” cleave an assassin who had appeared from nowhere clean in two.
Arms and legs flew haphazardly toward Shen Wei, still twitching and trembling.
She fainted on the spot and, upon waking, asked her father if he intended to marry her off to the halls of Yama.
She then swore she would rather die than marry him.
His youngest daughter had not yet had her hair-pinning ceremony, but this was Lu Jin—a lofty branch with boundless prospects.
In the midst of his deep distress, he suddenly remembered Qingniang’s daughter.
Heard she was raised in the countryside by a musician, just seventeen years old.
She appeared to be of a soft nature, obedient and sensible, only making one request: to purchase a small residence for her adoptive mother.
Looking at her brows and eyes, which bore a striking resemblance to Qingniang’s, he felt a pang of guilt in his heart.
Moreover, he had truly grown weary of his sixth-rank official post.
The wedding at the Assistant Minister’s residence was naturally grand in scale.
Large red lanterns hung before the gate, casting a festive crimson glow. Servants dressed in brand-new padded jackets bustled about, welcoming guests and serving tea. The air was filled with the fragrance of tea and wine, creating a lively and bustling scene.
As the bridal sedan chair touched the ground, a pair of warm, dry hands gently took hold of Shen Fenghuo, guiding her down. The crisp scent of pomelo blossoms greeted her.
In the main hall, illuminated by tall red candles, guests filled the room.
Following the master of ceremonies’ chants, Shen Fenghuo bowed to heaven and earth alongside the person beside her, then to the elders, and finally turned to perform the ritual of husband and wife bowing to each other.
Hidden behind the Happiness-Union Fan, she caught glimpses of the man beside her—his movements steady and courteous, carefully supporting her as she stepped over thresholds, his gestures gentle and dignified.
After the master of ceremonies loudly proclaimed the completion of the rites, she was escorted through the noisy crowd and led to the bridal chamber in the rear courtyard.
The bridal chamber was warm and cozy, adorned with red silk and festive draperies.
Shen Fenghuo sat alone on the wedding bed, spread with a large red mandarin duck brocade quilt, without any maidservants accompanying her.
As boredom set in, her thoughts began to wander.
Her husband, Lu Jin, was twenty years old, hailing from the Lu clan of Wu Commandery—a family with deep heritage and a top scholar personally appointed by the emperor.
When the Empress Dowager encountered an assassination attempt during a hunting excursion, he protected her safety and, following the clues, captured the mastermind behind the plot, earning the emperor’s deep appreciation. Within two years, he was promoted repeatedly, rising from Editorial Assistant of the ninth rank to Chief Minister of the Court of Judicial Review of the fourth rank.
Despite Shen Cen’s years of effort, he could not compare to another’s achievements in just two short years, only earning a reputation as a “virtuous and upright civil official.”
Now, he had finally managed to climb this high branch, thanks to his reputation for integrity.
Shen Cen’s recent admonitions still echoed in her ears.
She must strive to please her husband, act as the proper mistress of the Assistant Minister’s residence, and never forget that she was the daughter of Chang’an’s Editorial Assistant.
Whenever he spoke these words, he would invariably mention her birth mother.
Wanniang had told Shen Fenghuo since childhood that she had found her in the river while washing clothes. It was only when Zhang Momo found her that her true origins were revealed.
Her birth father, Shen Cen, was then a scholar who had yet to pass the imperial examinations. While traveling in Wu Commandery, he met the pipa player He Qingyu. Over time, they developed a secret affection for each other, becoming the envy of others as a talented scholar and a beautiful woman.
But once Shen Cen achieved success in the imperial examinations and entered Chang’an, he gradually lost contact with He Qingyu. Unwilling to sacrifice his official career yet unwilling to marry a woman from the music registry as his principal wife, he simply cast He Qingyu from his mind.
When He Qingyu came to Chang’an seeking him, she heard only a few words from Shen Cen: “Wait, just wait a little longer.”
But what she waited for was his marriage to another.
Unwilling to become an outside chamber, she endured the hardship of giving birth to her daughter but could not bear the humiliation for long. Soon after, she grew deeply despondent and, on her deathbed, entrusted her daughter to Wanniang.
Wanniang was only fifteen at the time, serving as He Qingyu’s maid. A fifteen-year-old girl, making a living by dancing, managed to raise the newborn infant to adulthood.
When Zhang Momo recounted the past between Shen Cen and He Qingyu, her eyes were filled with sorrow.
She said Official Shen had no choice, and later, when remorse grew in his heart and he went to find Qingniang, all he found was her solitary grave.
After Qingniang’s death, Shen Cen sank into depression and melancholy, feeling that all that remained around him were the fluctuations of official power and loneliness.
Zhang Momo wiped away a tear. “Our master lost his beloved!”
Yes, he lost his love.
Amid boundless loneliness and a heart grown cold, she bore Shen Fenghuo two younger sisters and two younger brothers.
After an interminable wait, the door finally creaked open. Shen Fenghuo held the Happiness-Union Fan upright, and the sound of footsteps gradually drew nearer.
A frivolous "tsk" sounded above her head.
"So he actually agreed to the marriage."
A flicker of confusion appeared in Shen Fenghuo's eyes.
"Your Shen family is quite something, unafraid even if I were to use human heads as wine vessels."
The visitor continued, "Putting on quite the airs of a principled civil official, yet in the end, you still eagerly send a newly acknowledged daughter into my Lu residence."
He leaned down, extending a hand with distinct knuckles toward Shen Fenghuo.
Suddenly, hurried footsteps echoed from outside the door. A subordinate reported urgently from beyond, "Young Minister Lu, the fleeing suspect has been captured at the abandoned temple in the outskirts of the city. You…"
"Understood."
The hand that had been extended halfway halted, withdrew, and the man turned and strode away hastily, without casting another glance at Shen Fenghuo.