“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor proclaims: The Zhou family has a daughter named Du, of gentle heart and graceful virtue, a worthy match. In this auspicious hour, a union is hereby forged. She is granted in marriage as the principal wife to Gu Yanshan, Heir of the Marquis of Yongning. Let the wedding be held on an auspicious day. So decreed!”
When word arrived that an imperial edict had come from the capital, the Zhou family was filled with bewilderment. Hurrying to receive the decree, none expected it to be a command of betrothal.
Zhou Du’s expression shifted from shock and bewilderment to a hollow stillness. The decree had been spoken; the Emperor’s will could not be defied. She closed her eyes briefly, her face calm as still water, then bowed her head to receive the command. “Your subject’s daughter… accepts the decree. Long live the Emperor, long live, long live!”
The eunuch who had delivered the edict finished reading and offered congratulations. Zhou Du’s father glanced anxiously at his daughter but, with the imperial messenger present, dared not speak openly. He merely gave his wife a look, bidding her watch over their daughter closely.
Lord Zhou motioned for a pouch to be brought forth. “Thank you, Sir. You have traveled far on this imperial errand pray stay and take tea before you go.”
The eunuch weighed the pouch in his hand, his face breaking into a wide, gleaming smile. “I thank Lord Zhou for your kindness, but I must decline. I must return posthaste to report to His Majesty.”
“Sir,” Lord Zhou asked, “why has His Majesty bestowed such great honor upon my family so suddenly? We are undeserving of such imperial grace.”
The eunuch smiled. “Your daughter is a lady of rare excellence. When the Marquis of Yongning was offered rewards for his service, he asked for nothing save this one lady as his son’s wife.”
Once aboard his carriage, the eunuch opened the pouch. What he saw nearly dazzled him pure gold! “Ah! Truly a house of a hundred years their generosity knows no bounds!”
After the eunuch departed, Zhou Du swayed and fainted.
“Sister!”
“Du’er!”
Her family’s anxious calls faded into a distant hum.
As she slipped into unconsciousness, Zhou Du finally saw him the cruel youth who had not appeared to her in dreams for two long years.
“A-Du, wait for me. I shall return to wed you. You hold my heart and you shall be my wife and none other!”
His gallant figure stood shrouded in mist, visible yet unreachable. Zhou Du longed to run to him, but her feet felt heavy as lead. She knew deep in her heart: should she break through that mist, the one she yearned for would vanish with the wind.
Choking back sobs, she whispered, “A-Zhao… I am to marry another. Why have you not come for me? I can wait no longer…”
“I am yours to take. Carry me away take me with you!”
“Du’er!”
She woke with a start, eyes flying open, her hair damp and cool against her brow, her face streaked with tears.
“Father… Mother… Brother…” Seeing her loved ones gathered around her, their faces etched with worry, the fog in her mind slowly cleared.
Her mother wiped her tears and sweat with a handkerchief, heart aching. “My child… if you do not wish to wed him, then do not. We shall refuse.”
Zhou Du leaned into her mother’s embrace and gave a faint, tender smile. “Mother the decree has been spoken. How could I dare defy the Emperor? A-Zhao is gone… and to whom I marry matters little.”
It had been two years since Wen Zhao’s death.
Three years prior, he had marched forth as a vanguard general against the Western Rong. Victory after victory had been reported, and Zhou Du had waited, certain he would soon return to keep his promise.
They had grown up together, two hearts pledged as one. They were to be formally betrothed once he had earned rank and distinction only to fall into an ambush on the eve of their triumphant return. Not a trace of him was ever found.
At first, Zhou Du had refused to believe him gone. If he had truly died, why had he not come to her in dreams one last time?
Yet she had waited from the age of fifteen to seventeen, and still no word came. Grass had sprung up twice over his empty grave. Long had it been so long that even Wen Zhao’s own parents had begged her to cease waiting.
“How cruelly timed,” said a young man beside her. “Had the decree come but half a month later, Sister need never have gone to him.”
He was Zhou Ze, styled Yuanzhi, Zhou Du’s elder brother. He was handsome and refined, bearing the air of a scholar stepped from a painting yet beneath his grace burned a fierce, raw grief that lent him a stark, human edge.
After Wen Zhao’s death, Zhou Du had lost all will to live. Fearing for her, her family had begun building a quiet temple where she might devote her days to prayer they would care for her always, whether she married or not. The temple was but half a month from completion when the imperial decree arrived instead.
The capital lay a hundred li distant, a journey of many days by carriage. How could they bear to see their daughter sent so far away?
Zhou Du, wishing to lift the heavy mood, sat up and smiled gently. “Father, Mother, Brother what is done is done. Do not grieve so. Perhaps Heaven means to grant me a fortunate union after all.”
“What manner of man is the Heir of Yongning?”
At her question, her father and brother’s expressions darkened.
Her mother, sensing something amiss, asked quickly, “What is it? Surely… surely there is some hidden flaw in this man?”
The Emperor was being most unjust this was no match, but a snare.
Lord Zhou could not bring himself to speak the words, and instead pressed Zhou Ze to explain.
“In bearing and prowess, the Heir Gu Yanshan is indeed an outstanding man,” Zhou Ze began. “Scarce twenty years of age, he has already won distinction upon the field through courage and mastery of tactics, and holds the rank of Fifth-Rank General of the Vanguard. He is generous and straightforward, free of the arrogance common to noble sons. He has earned high regard in the army a man worthy of esteem.”
Zhou Ze, himself proud and rarely given to praise, spoke thus of him so the Heir was no fool nor knave. Lady Zhou’s countenance lightened.
“Yet in matters of the heart,” Zhou Ze continued, his tone turning sharp with regret, “he is a man who can never be a true and faithful husband. Gu Yanshan has a childhood sweetheart, a cousin named Song Qingqing and to her he is wholly devoted.”
Lady Zhou’s distress flared. “If that is so, why does he not marry this Qingqing?”
Why drag her innocent daughter into such a household, only to suffer hardship and sorrow?
Zhou Ze sighed, distaste edging his voice. “The trouble is this: Song Qingqing is the daughter of a merchant. By birth, she might be taken as a concubine but never as a principal wife.”
“Yet Gu Yanshan sought to make her his equal. He fought beside his father upon the field, earning merit and risking his life, all to petition the Emperor for a decree that would raise her to be his wife.”
“In the end, his father outmaneuvered him. To prevent a merchant’s daughter from becoming his heir’s consort, the Marquis of Yongning used his own battlefield merits to ask for a bride from the Zhou clan one of noble blood as his son’s wife.”
At this, Lady Zhou wept openly. “Woe… woe is us! Once this Qingqing enters his household, he will surely dote upon the concubine and cast his wife aside. What life awaits our poor daughter?”
Zhou Ze looked to his sister, who sat silent and still. He spoke softly, tentatively. “Sister… he is no fit husband. If you will not go, we need not send you… we might report you fallen ill, and delay the union.”
Zhou Du shook her head. “Brother… that would be deceit against the Throne. That is a crime I cannot bring upon this family. I will go.”