The sky was faintly brightening.
In the Xing Family's small courtyard,
Madam Xing forced a smile, mechanically folding a few half-worn pieces of clothing and placing them into a red chest.
Xing Zhong huddled in the corner, clutching his head, like a lifeless clay statue.
Xing Xiuyan, dressed in Plain Clothes, stood quietly beside her mother, helping her tidy up.
There were no tears on her face; her calmness was unsettling.
Miaoyu walked over.
She had changed into a Moon White colored monk's robe and held a blue cloth bundle in her hand.
She walked up to Xing Xiuyan and handed her the bundle.
"Inside are a few volumes of sutras I copied, and a jar of last year's plum blossom snow."
"Take this with you on your journey. When you feel troubled, you can use it to brew tea and calm your heart."
"It's almost winter now, I thought the snow this year would..."
Xing Xiuyan took the bundle, her fingertips brushing against the coolness of the cloth.
"Sister Miaoyu..."
"No need to say more." Miaoyu interrupted her, her gaze drifting toward the courtyard entrance.
Her voice carried a subtle, hard-to-detect tremor.
"Where you are going, the path ahead is uncertain. That man... his nature is ruthless; he is not a good match."
Miaoyu took a deep breath and looked directly into Xing Xiuyan's eyes.
"Remember this: above all else... ensure your own safety first."
"If one day you truly cannot bear it anymore, find a way to send me a message. It's only Jinling City; I will come find you."
Xing Xiuyan's eyes finally reddened.
She nodded, unable to utter a single word.
Outside the courtyard gate, the shouts of sedan chair bearers rang out.
A small, red woolen sedan chair stopped at the entrance; the red was as jarring as a pool of blood.
Hou San stood beside the chair and cheerfully bowed toward the courtyard.
"Young Lady, the Auspicious Time is almost here."
Madam Xing could hold back no longer, rushing forward to embrace her daughter and bursting into loud sobs.
"My child! It is because your mother is useless! It is because your mother could not protect you!"
Xing Xiuyan gently patted her mother's back, her voice still steady.
"Mother, please stop crying. I am grown up now; I must marry eventually."
She broke free from her mother's embrace, then turned to Miaoyu and performed a deep curtsy.
"Sister, take care."
Having said that, she did not look back again, walking step by step toward that red cage.
She lifted the curtain and sat inside.
The curtain fell, shutting out all the cries and reluctance from behind her.
The sedan chair was lifted steadily and began to sway.
Xing Xiuyan closed her eyes, clutching the blue cloth bundle Miaoyu had given her tightly to her chest.
Within it lay all the purity and warmth of her past ten years.
From this moment on, there would be none left.
From Suzhou to Jinling, the water journey took nearly two days.
The sedan chair was replaced by a boat, and she was still alone in the cabin.
Occasionally, she would glimpse the tall figure standing on the deck through the gaps in the cabin wall.
Feng Yuan always stood at the bow, never entering the cabin, and never speaking to her.
Between them lay an invisible wall, thicker than the planks of the boat and colder than the river water.
By the time they reached Jinling, it was Dusk.
In front of the Feng Residence, there were no crowds of guests, no clamor of music.
Only two Red Lanterns hung from the lintel, serving as a token of celebration.
Feng Fang and a few female servants waited at the door. Seeing the sedan chair lowered, they quickly stepped forward.
"Concubine, please alight."
Xing Xiuyan, supported by an Old Woman Servant, stepped into the place where she would spend the rest of her life.
The courtyard was exquisite, with blue bricks, black tiles, a corner of Green Bamboo, and a pond of withered lotus.
It was a thousand times better than her family's courtyard in Suzhou.
Yet, in her heart, she felt it was even more desolate than that dilapidated small yard.
There was no wedding ceremony, no sharing of wine cups.
She was led directly to a newly tidied Bedroom in the Rear Courtyard.
The room was also decorated everywhere with red double happiness symbols, and Dragon and Phoenix candles were lit.
But that celebratory red could not suppress the pervasive coldness in the room.
The Old Woman Servant helped her change into a bright red Wedding Dress, then styled her hair and placed a simple phoenix hairpin on her.
"Madam, please rest first. The Master... the Master will arrive shortly."
The Old Woman Servants withdrew and closed the door.
In the room, only she remained, along with the flickering candlelight.
She sat on the edge of the bed, hands folded on her lap, her back perfectly straight.
Like a wooden doll dressed in a Wedding Dress.
She did not know how long she waited.
She waited until the candle wax had accumulated a thick layer, until the noise outside had completely subsided.
Only then did the door creak open.
Feng Yuan walked in.
He had changed out of the travel-worn common clothes into a similarly bright red wedding robe.
He carried the scent of wine, but it was not strong.
His eyes were clear, without any sign of drunkenness.
He closed the door, walked to the table, poured himself a cup of tea, and drank it down in one gulp.
He did not look at her.
Xing Xiuyan did not look at him either.
The room was terrifyingly quiet, broken only by the occasional crackling sound of the burning candles.
"Wife?"
He finally spoke, his voice as flat as if he were asking about the weather.
"I am here." Xing Xiuyan replied, her voice not loud, but very clear.
Feng Yuan set down the teacup, turned around, and walked toward her step by step.
His shadow, elongated by the candlelight, resembled a mountain, completely enveloping her.
He stood before her, looking down at her from a superior height.
"Do you hate me?"
Xing Xiuyan raised her head, meeting his gaze.
What kind of eyes were those?
Bottomless, like a cold pool, without a trace of warmth.
"I do not hate you." She shook her head.
"Oh?" Feng Yuan raised an eyebrow, seemingly somewhat surprised.
"My Father's mistakes have nothing to do with you." Xing Xiuyan's voice remained calm. "Your intervention saved the Xing Family; you are our benefactor. Xiuyan... dares not harbor resentment."
Feng Yuan smiled.
"Benefactor?"
He reached out and pinched her chin, forcing her to lift her face.
His fingers were cold, like iron.
"You are an intelligent person, so you should know that what we have is not a marriage, but a transaction."
Xing Xiuyan's body trembled slightly.
She bit her lip and remained silent.
Feng Yuan's voice, like the edge of a cold blade, pressed against her ear.
"From now on, you will be a dutiful concubine. Manage the Rear Courtyard and serve me well. I will not treat you poorly regarding your food, clothing, and expenses. I will also send people to look after your family."
She took a deep breath and slowly knelt down.
She shed the magnificent yet heavy red Wedding Dress, piece by piece.
Until only a thin red silk Inner Garment remained on her body.
She looked up at him, her face already flushed to the roots of her ears.
"Xiuyan greets Husband."
Feng Yuan looked at the young woman kneeling at his feet.
Her body, in the candlelight, was as white as a piece of fine warm jade.
Those eyes were like ashes where all flames had been extinguished.
He did not immediately help her up.
He simply watched quietly, like a victorious General inspecting his spoils of war.
This was the result he desired.
To uproot a graceful Orchid Grass, imprison it in a cage, and then personally break all its pride.
This pleasure was more intoxicating to him than simple slaughter.
He bent down, lifted her from the floor, and tossed her onto the bed covered with the Brocade Quilt.
The Red candles flickered.
The Brocade Quilt billowed.
The young woman frowned deeply, her teeth leaving deep marks on her crimson lips, her breathing heavy.
Xing Xiuyan closed her eyes, feeling like a small boat tossed in a violent storm, ready to be torn apart at any moment.
That night, Feng Yuan was like a hungry lion, relentlessly conquering the small lamb beneath him.
After an unknown amount of time, the storm subsided.
The two were drenched in sweat, clinging tightly together, as if merged into one.
Xing Xiuyan lay prone on his broad chest, her body feeling completely broken.
She opened her eyes and looked at the dancing candlelight.
A single tear finally slipped from the corner of her eye, sinking into her hair, cold.