The next day, shortly after the hour of Chen.
The main gate of the Xie Residence was uncharacteristically wide open, and an incense table had been set up in the front hall courtyard. The entire household held its breath, and a suppressed silence permeated the air, quieting even the birds in the branches.
Eunuch Huang, the imperial decree bearer, stepped methodically into the courtyard, followed by two young eunuchs carrying brocade boxes. Xie Yanqing, dressed in his everyday attire, led the male members of the family to kneel before the incense table, while the female relatives, as per custom, remained behind a screen.
“Imperial decree arrives! Xie Yanqing and his daughter, Xie Lanyin, receive the decree!”
Eunuch Huang unrolled the bright yellow scroll, his high-pitched yet dignified voice echoing clearly through the silent courtyard:
“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Zhan Shuo, Commander of the Imperial Guard, is loyal, diligent, and perceptive; Xie Lanyin, granddaughter of Grand Tutor Xie Mingyuan, is virtuous and intelligent. Now, with the Empress Dowager’s benevolent edict, Our heart is greatly pleased. Considering their bond originated in peril, a match made in heaven, We specially bestow this marriage to honor their righteousness and and to calm the hearts of the people. The Imperial Astronomical Bureau is hereby ordered to carefully select an auspicious date and has confirmed the Double Fifth Festival, the fifth day of the fifth lunar month, for this auspicious ceremony, where dragon and phoenix will harmonize. Let this be announced both within and outside the capital, for all to know. Respect this!”
The fifth day of the fifth lunar month.
Xie Yanqing listened with bowed head, his mind quickly calculating—today was already late April, at most, a mere half month. Indeed, this was the imperial way, swift and decisive, allowing no time to breathe.
“We thank His Majesty for his great grace, long live the Emperor, long live, long live, long live!” Xie Yanqing kowtowed, his voice steady, betraying no emotion.
However, Eunuch Huang did not immediately hand over the imperial decree. His gaze, sharp as a needle, swept over the kneeling crowd, then settled on Xie Yanqing. The standardized smile on his face deepened slightly, but his voice lowered, carrying an unmistakable note of inquiry:
“Minister Xie, the decree explicitly states ‘Xie Yanqing and his daughter, Xie Lanyin.’ Why is Miss Xie not here to receive the decree? This… is not in accordance with proper etiquette, is it?”
Xie Yanqing raised his head, a timely and appropriate look of worry and apology appearing on his face. He cupped his hands and said:
“Eunuch Huang, please understand. My humble daughter has been excessively shocked and fright-stricken since returning from the palace the day before yesterday, with cold evil having entered her body. Yesterday, she… heard some rumors, which further unsettled her. This morning, the physician just examined her and said that she is suffering from excessive worry, which has harmed her spirit, and requires quiet rest and recuperation. She is truly unable to rise to receive the decree. I sincerely hope that Eunuch will show compassion. This subject will accept the decree and express gratitude on behalf of my humble daughter, and would never dare to neglect imperial grace.”
Eunuch Huang nodded slightly and handed over the imperial decree:
“So that’s how it is. Miss Xie has a precious physique, and indeed should rest and recuperate properly.” His tone then shifted, his voice rising slightly to ensure everyone nearby could hear: “His Majesty and the Empress Dowager sympathize with the people’s plight, and their grace is vast. They have specifically instructed that all procedures, ceremonies, and expenses for Miss Xie’s wedding shall be handled and managed by palace personnel in conjunction with the Ministry of Rites. Your residence, Minister Xie, merely needs to cooperate according to the regulations. Such an honor is a blessing that countless officials would pray for but never receive!”
Xie Yanqing accepted the heavy imperial decree with both hands, feeling its icy coldness. He bowed deeply again: “Imperial grace is vast. The Xie family is profoundly grateful and will respectfully obey His Majesty’s will.”
Eunuch Huang nodded in satisfaction, signaling the young eunuchs to present the two brocade boxes: “These are some medicinal herbs and tonics bestowed by the Empress Dowager and Empress to calm and reassure Miss Xie, to help her recuperate and prepare for her marriage in peace.”
“We thank the Empress Dowager and Empress for their grace.” Xie Yanqing thanked them again.
With the decree delivered and the gifts exchanged, Eunuch Huang did not linger. He led his people away, and the distinct imperial colors disappeared beyond the gates of the Xie Residence as the heavy vermilion doors slowly closed.
“Go investigate.”
The steward immediately stepped forward, holding his breath to listen.
Xie Yanqing’s gaze remained fixed on the distance, his voice lowered further:
“Use all reliable channels to ascertain as quickly as possible—when exactly is the First Prince’s wedding date set? If there are any rumors from the palace regarding the preparation order of the two marriages, no matter how minor, report them all.”
“Yes, Master. This old servant will go at once.” The steward’s expression tightened; he knew the matter was crucial. He bowed in response and retreated quickly and nimbly, his figure soon disappearing around the corner of the covered walkway.
Only then did Xie Yanqing slowly exhale a turbid breath.
Inside the Imperial Study.
“Zhan Shuo,” the Emperor said, putting down his vermilion brush and looking at him, his tone as calm as ever, “the auspicious date for your marriage to the Daughter of the Xie family has been set. The Imperial Astronomical Bureau reported that the Double Fifth Festival, the fifth day of the fifth lunar month, is the propitious date.”
The fifth day of the fifth lunar month. Zhan Shuo’s eyelids barely lowered a fraction, engraving the date into his mind—less than half a month. Truly, imperial efficiency.
“As there is no one in your household to manage such affairs, I have already instructed the Ministry of Rites to coordinate with the relevant departments of the Imperial Household to handle all matters. You need only follow the procedures and ceremonies. If there are no urgent official duties at the Northern Commandery Investigation Department these days, you may also take some rest and prepare for the wedding with peace of mind.”
Zhan Shuo bowed: “Your subject obeys. Your Majesty’s thoughtful arrangements are an honor I am ashamed to accept.”
The Emperor picked up his teacup, skimmed off the foam, and then spoke, as if casually: “I heard that the Xie family’s girl fell ill after returning to her residence and has been bedridden ever since. After all, she is your future wife; both in sentiment and reason, you should pay her a visit.”
“Yes. Your subject will go shortly.” Zhan Shuo answered without hesitation, as if the visit was already his rightful duty.
The Imperial Study was silent for a moment, with only the clear drip of the water clock. The Emperor’s gaze lingered on Zhan Shuo’s lowered brows and eyes, then he suddenly spoke, his voice devoid of obvious emotion, yet more direct than any previous remark:
“Zhan Shuo, regarding this marriage bestowed by Us and the Empress Dowager… are you satisfied in your heart?”
The question was sudden, yet expected.
“Your Majesty’s boundless grace, the Empress Dowager’s benevolent edict. Miss Xie was originally a prospective Imperial Consort, of golden and noble status. To be granted in marriage to your subject now is truly an unprecedented honor, and your subject… is naturally satisfied.”
Xuanyuan Chenhao gazed deeply at him, a faint, fleeting emotion, hard to discern, crossing his perceptive eyes—it seemed like understanding, yet also a deeper scrutiny. He did not press further, as if his question had truly been a casual one.
“Mm. It’s good that you understand.” The Emperor waved his hand, picking up his vermilion brush again. “You may withdraw. When visiting the Daughter of the Xie family, there is no need to be overly formal, but you must also… be mindful of propriety.”
“Your subject takes his leave.” Zhan Shuo bowed, stepped back, and turned, each step as precise as if measured. He pulled open the heavy palace doors, and his figure merged into the bright light outside. Silence once again settled in the Imperial Study.
“Bedridden?” Zhan Shuo walked out of the Palace Gate, her clear, bright eyes reflecting in his mind.
He did not return to the Northern Commandery Investigation Department, nor did he summon his attendants. After exiting the Palace Gate, he headed directly to the stables, leading out his own mount, “Treading Frost,” a horse entirely black save for its snow-white hooves. He swung onto its back, a flick of the reins, and galloped towards the City Gate.
On the outskirts of the capital, by the reed marsh, the light of day and the shadows of clouds fell upon the cold, clear water.
Zhan Shuo reined in his horse, his gaze, sharp as lightning, sweeping across the water and sky. He took out his longbow, then untied a coil of extremely fine silk rope from his saddle. One end was firmly tied to a loop at the end of an arrow shaft—the arrow itself was unusual, with a blunt, rounded tip and slightly curved barbs on either side. He carefully straightened the coiled rope and nocked the arrow.
The wait was not long. A flock of geese soared across the sky in a disciplined formation. Zhan Shuo raised his arm, not aiming directly at the lead goose, but at an empty space three feet in front of it.
“Tseng—”
A faint sound of the arrow cutting through the air. The arrow described a horizontal arc, sweeping across the front of the flock. Its blunt tip accurately caught the root of the lead goose’s wing, the barbs gripping the feathers. The silk rope, caught in the airflow and the goose’s frantic flapping, instantly tightened, wrapping twice like a living snake.
The goose let out a short, startled cry and flapped its wings furiously, but the rope pulled it askew. It tumbled from mid-air and plunged with a “plop” into the distant reed marsh, startling a few water birds.
Zhan Shuo spurred his horse over and deftly retrieved his prey. The goose was still struggling, its wings tightly bound by the silk rope. There was not a trace of blood on its body, and its feathers were perfectly intact, only a few flight feathers slightly bent from the fall. He gently pressed the goose’s beak and carefully examined it, confirming it was unharmed, before carefully wrapping it in the pre-prepared blue cloth and tying it behind his saddle.