General Changning— Chapter 16
That hand was pure as carved jade, the joints even and well-shaped, as fine as its master. Now, the palm faced upward, long fingers naturally extended, waiting patiently for Jiang Hanyuan’s response. She slowly straightened, withdrew her gaze from the hand, and turned to the man outside the carriage. He watched her steadily. When their eyes met again, a faint smile touched his lips, and he inclined his head in greeting.
Jiang Hanyuan did not smile back, but she did not keep him waiting long. Under the eyes of the crowd, she slowly extended the hand that had just released her dagger. He closed his fingers gently around hers, holding her hand, and led her down from the bridal carriage. Her hand was rough, callused from years of battle. Yet when his palm pressed against hers, she felt the warmth of his skin clearly—and it unsettled her. Once her feet touched the ground, she subtly shifted aside, and their hands parted naturally. Everything was seamless. He withdrew his hand, turned slightly toward her, and softly reminded her of the steps ahead, guiding her into the Regent Prince Qi’s mansion.
The disturbance outside the gates moments before was like a stone cast into a vast lake—causing only a ripple, then vanishing without trace.
The wedding proceeded according to custom, solemn and grand. At last, they were led into the bridal chamber, where the officiants presented the ritual of the *hejin* wine.
This was the most important, most revered step of the ceremony.
The twin goblets were carved entirely of white jade, joined at the base, with a sacred bird standing upon the back of a beast between them. The two cups leaned close, seamless, resting upon a table draped in crimson brocade.
He lifted the left cup first, both hands steady, raising it with elegance until it reached his chest. His gaze turned to the bride opposite, waiting for her to do the same.
Her eyes fell upon the remaining cup.
Two strangers from distant lands—by drinking this wine, they became one, bound in rank and love, never to part.
She raised her cup, mirroring his gesture, and met his eyes calmly. Amid the officiant’s praises, they saluted each other, then drank in one draught.
The cups were set down. Husband and wife were thus joined.
The officials withdrew. Servants lowered heavy curtains, leaving the newlyweds alone in the chamber, then departed silently, closing the doors.
Layers of drapery hung deep. Before the bed stood a great gilded candelabrum, its branches ablaze with red candles. The light glowed fiercely, filling the room with gold and crimson, illuminating the two figures seated side by side upon the bed’s edge, an arm’s length apart. Behind them, their shadows flickered upon the red curtains like painted silhouettes, unmoving.
At first, neither spoke. Silence reigned. Suddenly, one candle popped, its flame sputtering.
The man stirred, turned his head toward her. “Minister He said your journey was arduous. You must be weary. Why not rest early?”
He broke the silence with gentle words, his tone natural, warm. Then he rose, walked to the clothes stand, and began loosening his belt—the quiet chamber filled with the faint rustle of fabric and clasps.
“Your Highness, I have something to say.”
He paused, turned. She had risen, eyes fixed on him. He showed no surprise, only refastened his belt, straightened his robes, and faced her with a smile. “What is it?”
“Why did Your Highness choose me as your bride?” Jiang Hangyuan asked.
His gaze flickered. He looked at her, but did not answer at once.
“If it is inconvenient, you need not reply. I only wish to speak a few words.”
She continued calmly: “My father, and I as well, have never been disloyal to the court. In the past, now, and in the future, it will always be so. Now that I hold the title of Regent’s consort, your goodwill and expectations are understood and remembered. The empire is wounded, its unity broken. As generals of the Jiang clan, blessed with a wise ruler, we will give our lives for the nation without hesitation. This, I ask the Regent to know.” Her voice was steady, her expression composed.
His smile faded. His face grew solemn, his eyes fixed on hers.
She met his gaze without flinching. After a moment, his shoulders shifted slightly, and he nodded slowly.
“Very well. I will convey your loyalty, and your father’s, to His Majesty.” His tone carried the weight of official discourse, as if speaking to ministers.
“On behalf of my father, I thank the Regent.” She bowed deeply.
He watched her, lips moving faintly in what might have been a smile, then stood silent, no longer continuing his earlier gesture of undressing.
She too remained still, standing straight before him.
Thus, they faced each other, unmoving. A draft slipped through the curtains, stirring the candle flames, shadows flickering upon the red drapery.
The chamber’s atmosphere grew faintly awkward.
His gaze swept past the embroidered quilt upon the wide bed behind her. He cleared his throat softly, then spoke again: “Lady Jiang, then…”
He paused. “Shall we rest?”
He looked back at her, his tone carrying a hint of inquiry, though he did not wait for an answer. He turned away once more, back facing her, and began loosening his robes again.
This time, for some reason—perhaps the clasp caught—the process was slow. Only after some effort did he finally remove the jade belt at his waist. He hung it upon the stand, then lowered his head to remove his outer robe. At that moment, a cautious knock sounded from outside.
“What is it?” He stopped, turned, and asked.
It was Li Xiangchun. “Your Highness, Your Majesty has arrived. He is outside,” the old eunuch announced.
Visibly, the Regent seemed to relax. He quickly straightened his clothing, pulled back the belt, fastened it, then turned to her with an apologetic tone: “His Majesty must have heard of tonight’s incident and could not wait. He has come himself. I will go out to meet him.”
His expression returned to calm. He walked toward the door, then paused, glancing back at her. “Lady Jiang, you must be tired. Do not wait for me—rest.”
His figure vanished behind the crimson curtains. The door opened and closed softly, his footsteps fading.
As Shu Shenhui had said, the young Emperor Shu Jian had come because of the attempted attack outside the Regent’s mansion. In the palace, upon hearing the news, he had flown into a rage. Impetuous by nature, he could not wait until morning, but left at once, rushing to the Regent’s residence.
Li Xiangchun followed Shu Shenhui, apologizing in hushed tones: “…This old servant is useless, unable to dissuade His Majesty. Had I not come to fetch you, he would have barged in himself…”
Shu Shenhui gave no reply, eyes fixed ahead. Soon they reached the Hall of Zhaoge, where the Emperor waited.
This hall was where the Regent usually received guests. Outsiders could not enter without permission. Now, the double doors stood open, but Liu Xiang dared not go in. He waited outside with his men.
Earlier that night, Liu Xiang had interrogated the captured assassin. The dwarf was a death warrior. When seized, he tried to bite down on a hidden poison pill, but Liu Xiang forced it from his mouth. Torture yielded nothing—the man was deaf and mute. Meanwhile, agents scoured Chang’an’s taverns and brothels, but no one had ever seen him before. The investigation produced little. Since it was the Regent’s wedding night, Liu Xiang and Chen Lun had agreed to report tomorrow.
But the Emperor had already summoned Liu Xiang to the palace, questioned him, and, furious, had stormed out to the Regent’s mansion.
Liu Xiang dared not stop him and followed. Now he stood outside, watching as the Regent approached in full ceremonial dress. He hurried forward. “Your Highness! His Majesty—”
Shu Shenhui cut him off with a wave, ascended the steps, and entered the hall.
Inside, the young Emperor Shu Jian paced restlessly. Suddenly, he stamped his foot, ready to rush out.
A palace servant, Zhang Bao, crouched in the corner, watching. Seeing the Emperor about to storm toward the bridal chamber, he panicked, darted forward, and fell to his knees: “Your Majesty! Your Majesty! The Regent and his bride are in the wedding chamber!”
Startled by the sudden figure, the Emperor nearly kicked him, foot raised to strike. But at the last instant, he stopped, lowered it.
Zhang Bao knew the Emperor’s temper well. Tonight, he was spared only because of the Regent’s presence. Otherwise, that kick would have sent him tumbling down the steps. He kowtowed quickly: “Your Majesty, my father has passed away. Please wait a little longer. If you go now, it may be inconvenient…”
The Emperor was nearly fourteen, raised in the palace, no stranger to matters of men and women. Hearing Zhang Bao’s hesitant words, he frowned, then looked toward the doorway. Just then, a figure entered. His eyes lit up. He rushed forward, almost throwing himself upon the man, clutching his sleeve.
“Third Uncle! You’re here! I was so worried! You’re safe?”
Shu Shenhui assured him he was unharmed and stepped inside. The hall was bright with lamps. Seeing his uncle dressed neatly, smiling as usual, the Emperor finally relaxed.
“It was so dangerous! I’m glad you’re safe!”
Relieved, he recalled the descriptions of the attack. Though he had not witnessed it, the thought filled him with dread. His teeth clenched audibly as he muttered bitterly: “There’s no need to ask. Who else but Prince Cheng’s faction would want you dead? It seems the last purge did not kill enough of them!”