Zhou Du took the end of the red silk. Beneath her veil, she could see only the ground before her feet, guided by the ribbon in her hand.
The young man walked slowly, mindful of her blindness, speaking soft warnings. “Lift your feet, Sister‑in‑Law there is a threshold.”
“Step carefully over the fire basin mind the sparks.”
His voice had lost its youthful crackle; it was warm and gentle, clear and bright with the fresh resonance of youth not yet deep and resonant as a grown man’s.
“Bow to Heaven and Earth!” the Master of Ceremonies called out, his voice ringing with joy.
“Bow to your Ancestors and Elders!” Zhou Du noticed that each time Gu Yanchuan bowed, he bowed deeper than she. Beneath the edge of her veil, she caught a glimpse of his profile young, fair, and remarkably handsome.
“Bow to one another!”
Only then did Zhou Du feel a quiet pang of awkwardness. She had never in all her days imagined that her own husband’s younger brother would stand in his place and bow with her at the altar.
She sighed inwardly. She cared nothing for whom Gu Yanshan loved but to publicly shame her, and to shame the Zhou house… this was beyond foolishness. He would need to be taught a lesson.
“The Rite is Complete! Escort the Bride to the Chamber!”
Gu Yanchuan lifted the ceremonial weighing rod and raised her veil. Before him stood a face of such serene, breathtaking beauty that he caught his breath. Her phoenix crown and embroidered robes were splendid indeed yet they paled beside her.
“I have troubled you, Brother‑in‑Law,” Zhou Du said, offering a gentle, composed smile. “Pray go and join the feast. I shall see to things here.”
Gu Yanchuan started, his gaze faltering. He had been staring staring at his own brother’s bride! Heat rose to his cheeks. He bowed hastily.
“You have borne great hardship this day, Sister‑in‑Law. Should you need anything, pray give command to the servants.” He smiled at his own foolishness she needed no such advice from him. Besides… he was but a son by a concubine. He had no standing in this house at all.
Zhou Du nodded. “Thank you, Brother‑in‑Law.”
Within the chamber, Gu Yanshan lay pale and unconscious. He had been dressed in wedding red and laid upon the bed like a gift left unwelcome.
Zhou Du bade her maids remove the heavy pearls and ornaments from her hair, then changed into soft, comfortable robes. She pulled back the covers of the bed red dates, longans, lotus seeds, and peanuts had been strewn thick across the mattress. She had felt the lumps through her gown; it was no place for a man to lie helpless and in pain.
But that, she told herself, was not her concern.
“Lian Qing. Lian Hong.”
“Lady.” Both maids had attended her since childhood; they had come with her as her personal retinue.
“Are you hungry, Lady?” Lian Qing asked gently. “I have already bidden the kitchen prepare a simple meal of your favorite dishes.” She was fresh‑faced, steady, and careful Zhou Du trusted her utterly.
Zhou Du nodded. She was indeed famished. “From this day, you must call me Madam Heir. We must not give anyone cause to speak ill of us.”
Nearby, Lian Hong glanced around the room and saw Gu Yanshan lying motionless upon the bed. Her heart burned with indignation: Useless, ungrateful man! How unworthy of my Lady!
“Madam,” Lian Hong said pointedly, “the Heir is sick and needs care. But you born to every comfort have never tended a soul in your life. Why not have him moved to the daybed? Then you may both rest in peace.”
The daybed was narrow, hard, and ill‑suited for a night’s rest. He would wake aching and stiff.
Zhou Du’s lips curved into a quiet, knowing smile. “Lian Hong thinks most wisely.”
Lian Hong was quick‑witted and sharp she knew exactly how to give someone a taste of their own medicine without a word spoken.
Gu Yanshan wished to lie comfortably in the bridal bed? He would wish otherwise.
Zhou Du ate a light bowl of chicken and vegetable noodle soup, two cakes of sweet pea paste, and finished with a cup of red bean and barley water to steady her nerves. Only then did her empty stomach settle.
What a trial marriage is, she thought.
“Aah…”
Just as Zhou Du had eaten her fill and prepared to call her maids to help her bathe and retire, the man upon the daybed stirred. His eyes fluttered open.
She did not hurry. She sat quite still, watching him with calm, unhurried interest. Let him show her what further folly he would commit.
“You… are the Lady Zhou?”
Zhou Du had laid aside all ornaments. Her hair was bound simply with a ribbon, and she wore loose robes of blue embroidered with lotus flowers pure, elegant, and cool, standing apart from the garish red of the bridal chamber like a painting come to life.
For one breath, Gu Yanshan stared. He was struck speechless by her beauty. Then, swift as a shadow, the face of Song Qingqing rose before his eyes. Let this Lady Zhou be as fair as she may she shall never be Qingqing.
“I am,” Zhou Du said calmly. “Zhou Du.”
She gave him his first greeting polite, distant, perfectly composed.
“I lay ill with old wounds and could not come to claim you,” Gu Yanshan snapped, his voice sharp with dislike. “Yet the wedding was performed regardless. Were you so desperate to force your way into this house?”
Another woman would have wept. Another would have been broken by such hatred on her wedding night.
Zhou Du simply laughed a soft, clear laugh, as though she had seen a most ridiculous play.
Gu Yanshan stared, stunned. He had expected tears, rage, humiliation. Instead she laughed. Had she been driven mad by his words?
“That,” Zhou Du said, dabbing her eyes with a handkerchief, “is why I laugh. You are a fool and yet you preen and boast as though wise. You are the very model of foolishness. If you seek fame through absurdity, you have found a most original path. I am truly impressed.”
Gu Yanshan flushed hot and sat bolt upright, ignoring the dizziness that swam in his head. His pale face burned scarlet with fury.
“What did you say?! You speak like a madwoman! I am your husband! Look at you do you bear the least resemblance to a virtuous, obedient wife?”
Zhou Du shook her head, still smiling. “This day your father knelt and begged me to enter this house. Your younger brother stood in your place and bowed with me at the altar. And I out of pity for the hundred innocent lives under this roof endured every whisper and sneer to save your family from ruin.”
“Gu Yanshan your selfishness and folly have brought terror and hardship upon every soul here. You are twenty‑one years old not twelve.”
“And you wake and speak not of your father’s fear, nor your brother’s burden, nor the Emperor’s wrath but scorn and insult the woman who saved you all. A blameless lady. If I call you fool wherein lies the lie?”
Gu Yanshan fell silent. He could not deny her words. At last he muttered, sullen and unrepentant: “Not a soul in this house cares truly for me. Why should I care for them? And as for you you sit safe and sound. Nothing, it seems, has befallen you.”
Zhou Du looked at him this arrogant, selfish, narrow‑minded man and decided she would waste no more breath upon him.
“This marriage was never of my choosing,” she said plainly. “But since it is done, let us agree to live as husband and wife in name only respectful, courteous, and each with our own peace.”