23
The matter of the auspicious date had stumped Ming Tingyuan; he was equally at a loss, having received not even a shred of information.
In fact, after Emperor Chengkang bestowed the marriage, the Ministry of Rites had been busily preparing for the union between the Prince Dingbei’s household and the Jing’an Marquis’s family.
Marriages within the imperial clan are inherently exceedingly intricate. Had the authorities not deemed it important, rushing through certain procedures with some negligence might have been acceptable. However, since explicit orders were issued that the wedding must be conducted according to the highest ceremonial standards befitting a prince, even slight deviations beyond protocol would be permissible; consequently, the number of meticulous details requiring attention becomes truly immense.
The Imperial Astronomical Bureau proposed an auspicious date, but the elderly officials of the Ministry of Rites debated for a long time; some felt the day was not fortunate enough, while others thought the timeframe too rushed to complete all necessary procedures before the wedding.
Some even considered matters far into the future, noting that the northwestern border was currently undergoing a transition of power; any misstep could spark unrest. Would His Highness, the Prince of Dingbei, then depart to quell the disturbance? If he were to do so, should the marriage be hastened before his departure, or should they wait until after he had restored order and returned to the capital before welcoming his princess into his residence?
With so many considerations weighing upon them, the Imperial Astronomical Bureau could not resist and had to redraw the auspicious dates, while the Ministry of Rites diligently searched through ancestral precedents, carefully finalizing every detail to match the highest standard decreed by His Majesty’s own imperial words.
Although no specific date had yet been fixed, the implication from the Ministry of Rites was clear: completing all these ceremonial procedures for the betrothal would inevitably push the wedding into next year.
Upon receiving this news, Ming Tan felt only that the scheduled marriage date was far too distant!
–
For Ming Tan, the wedding date indeed seemed far away.
Yet for Ming Chu and Shen Hua, it already felt somewhat pressing.
Nowadays, it was not uncommon for daughters of noble families to remain unmarried for a year or two after their coming-of-age ceremony; however, by that time, most had already identified suitable betrothal candidates.
Ming Chu and Shen Hua had long reached the age for marriage arrangements: one had previously resided in border regions where no suitable matches were available, while the other had prioritized the prestigious upbringing offered by the Marquis’s household and her brother’s career advancement, thus delaying any serious consideration of potential husbands until now.
Now that Ming Tan’s younger sister has been granted an imperial marriage, the wedding arrangements that should have already been on the agenda for the two of them have become increasingly urgent.
Pei Shi has always valued reputation; regardless of her true feelings, she outwardly demonstrated great dedication to securing their marriage.
She took the pair out almost daily to attend various flower-viewing gatherings, tea tastings, and birthday banquets for elders, thoroughly acquainting herself with every suitable family in the capital whose children were of marriageable age and comparable social standing.
Shen Hua is highly sought after among these prestigious families. Though her family background is somewhat modest, she is the legitimate daughter of her household, blessed with beauty and excellent upbringing. Her elder brother has also distinguished himself, making his career advancement both promising and foreseeable. Recently, numerous suitors have come to propose marriage.
As for Ming Chu, she wore a sullen expression every time she went out. Being merely a daughter born of a concubine, her conduct paled in comparison to Shen Hua’s, leaving little to commend.
Yet she was, after all, the legitimate daughter of the Jing’an Marquis’s household, blessed with the privilege of accompanying her father to the frontier garrison and enjoying his deep affection. Moreover, being exceedingly handsome in appearance, many sought to propose marriage, hoping to ally themselves with the influence of the Jing’an Marquis’s family.
However, Ming Chu possessed lofty aspirations and found every single one of these suitors utterly unacceptable.
“The second son of the Rongping Earl’s secondary branch seems quite suitable to me,” Lady Liu said gently. “He is the only heir of that branch, destined someday to uphold its household. Furthermore, he earned a third-place ranking in this year’s imperial examinations without relying on ancestral privileges, which suggests he possesses genuine talent.”
“Suitable? How so! The Rongping Earl’s府 is merely a declining earldom. The primary branch still stands firmly in place; once the old earl passes away, the title will have nothing whatsoever to do with the secondary branch. What household could he possibly uphold? And having taken the examinations twice yet ranking outside the second tier—what talent does that truly demonstrate?”
“Do you find the Rongping Earl’s family status too low?” Concubine Liu pondered for a moment, then added, “What about the sixth young master of the Fengchun Marquis’s household? The sixth young master—”
“A son born of a concubine! If I were to marry him, wouldn’t we just be two concubine-born children united? What kind of families are these? Do they even deserve such consideration!”
Concubine Liu: “…”
She set down the name card in her hand, fell silent for a long while, then suddenly spoke quietly, “Chuchu, if you intend to compare yourself with Mingtan, you will never measure up. Whether it is the Dingbei Prince’s Mansion personally bestowed by His Majesty today, or the Lingguo Duke’s Manor from which she withdrew her engagement, neither is something an ordinary young woman could ever hope to attain.”
“I know, but just because she is the legitimate daughter and I am the concubine-born, does that mean I am inferior to her in any way!” Ming Chu knew the truth in her heart, yet she remained unwilling to accept it, her tone filled with resentment.
Even now, she was still immersed in the memory of her past glory when, during her father’s appointment as the governor of Yangxi Circuit, she had been the cherished jewel of the military commissioner’s household.
Although Shen Hua’s words at the Duke of Pingguo’s residence that day had pulled her slightly out of her complacency, leading to some recent restraint, how could the thoughts in her heart change overnight?
Upon hearing this, Concubine Liu fell silent.
After a long pause, she finally said, “You are certainly no worse than Mingtan. Ultimately, it is all my fault.” Her voice grew melancholy as she continued, “It is all my fault that you could not marry into a good family like Mingtan did; indeed, you cannot even compare to those distant relatives who have suitable matches.”
“Mother,” Mingchu cried out urgently, “that is not what I meant! I do not blame you!”
Concubine Liu still kept her eyes lowered, saying nothing.
“That wretch Ming Tan is one thing, but how can I possibly be inferior to that wretch Shen Hua? Mother, what nonsense are you spouting!” Ming Chu had never even deigned to notice Shen Hua, let alone understand why her mother would claim she fell short of her.
Concubine Liu spoke softly, “Do you know that the second young master of the Li family, whose father serves as a Director at the Imperial Academy, has sent a marriage proposal to the lady residing in the Wind and Lotus Courtyard?”
Ming Chu asked in confusion, “Li Siye?”
“Though the position of Siye is only of the sixth rank, assisting the Chancellor of the Imperial Academy, the Li family is one of distinguished and noble standing. Their eldest son married into the Zhou family, whose head serves as a Hanlin Academician—the very same Zhou family to which Lady Ming Tan is close; indeed, he wed the elder sister of that young lady.”
“In our dynasty, the Hanlin Academicians have traditionally been regarded as future chancellors. With their support, and given that the current Chancellor of the Imperial Academy is advanced in years and soon to retire, Siye Li’s promotion is surely imminent.”
“Moreover, it is said that the second young master himself is diligent, quick-witted, fond of learning, refined, and possesses exceptional character. The mistress of the Fenghe Courtyard is also quite pleased with this match, and my lady will soon arrange a meeting between them.”
In that case, they are indeed a respectable family, far superior to the Rongping Earl’s mansion or the Fengchun Marquis’s residence, which hold titles but no real power.
But why should such a distinguished family propose marriage to that wretch Shen Hua? She is merely adept at feigning weakness and courtesy to win the favor of her elders!
Ever since their feud began on the day Ming Chu returned to the mansion, she had frequently encountered Shen Hua’s subtle rebuffs. Now, hearing that Shen Hua was pleased with the match only strengthened Ming Chu’s resolve not to let her succeed.
Concubine Liu added, “If you could secure a match with a family like Li Siye’s, this mother would finally be at ease.”
With the Dingbei Prince’s Manor already engaged to Ming Tan, Ming Chu held little regard for a mere sixth-rank household, yet she felt more than worthy of such a match. Of course, what mattered most was that she could not allow Shen Hua’s marriage to proceed so smoothly.
Recalling that Lady Pei had indeed mentioned over the past two days that if any suitor’s family seemed suitable, arrangements could be made for the two to meet, Ming Chu suddenly conceived a plan, though what exactly crossed her mind remained unclear.
Seeing Ming Chu dismissively murmur, “Mother, there is no need for worry,” before hastily hurrying out of the courtyard, Concubine Liu paused briefly, then leisurely lifted her teacup and took a sip.
The matron standing nearby sighed softly and said gently, “You have gone to great lengths in arranging the Third Miss’s marriage.”
“If I do not plan for her, who truly will?” Concubine Liu remarked lightly, skimming the foam from her tea as she glanced toward the distant flower-hanging gate.
In truth, she had already investigated those households—the Rongping Earl’s manor and the Fengchun Marquis’s estate. They were all mere facades; neither Ming Chu nor she herself found them worthy.
Yet Ming Chu, having been indulged and doted upon since childhood, had grown far too ambitious, bent on competing with Ming Tan. In this Great Xian dynasty, there existed no second Dingbei Prince’s Manor; and even if there were, such a family would never take her as a wife.
She must make Ming Chu face this reality, and upon that foundation, persuade her to willingly pursue an excellent marriage within her reach.
Shen Hua had taken a liking to the Li family, specifically to Li Siye’s household; she found it most suitable, with promising prospects and a family of gentle souls who could accommodate Ming Chu’s spoiled and willful nature. As for how to secure this match, she already had a few strategies in mind, but the most crucial factor was that Ming Chu herself must be willing.
If she did not provoke her today, how could Ming Chu ever become willing?
–
Since the beginning of summer, the sun has grown increasingly scorching. Early this morning, every courtyard within the Marquis of Jing’an’s residence was bustling with activity as preparations were made for the outing.
Today, Lady Pei intended to take the three young ladies of the household to Daxiangguo Temple to offer incense. Ostensibly, this was a religious pilgrimage, but secretly, it was arranged for Ming Chu and Shen Hua to meet potential suitors.
Originally, Lady Pei had only arranged a meeting for Shen Hua with the second son of Li Siye’s family. Unexpectedly, that day Ming Chu suddenly rushed over, saying she thought highly of the sixth young master from the Marquis of Fengchun’s household and suggested arranging a meeting for him as well. Lady Pei agreed, and thus extended invitations to both parties.
Ming Tan had initially been unwilling to go; after all, they were merely attending matchmaking gatherings, and she was already a married woman—what business did she have joining in such festivities?
Yet who could have anticipated that just before retiring last night, Shen Hua suddenly sent a maid to deliver a message, revealing that her brother, before heading off to stand night watch at the Imperial Capital Grand Camp, had inadvertently mentioned that tomorrow His Highness the Prince of Dingbei would be visiting the Great Xiangguo Temple.
Upon hearing this, Ming Tan instantly perked up, sat upright in bed, and immediately dispatched someone to inform Lady Pei that she too intended to visit the Great Xiangguo Temple the next day to offer incense. She then hurriedly sent messengers to the Duke of Changguo’s residence and the Zhou household, inviting Bai Minmin and Zhou Jingwan to accompany her. Having completed these arrangements, she returned to her vanity table, carefully applied jade dew to her face, and spent over half an hour meticulously selecting her attire and hair ornaments.
So much so that before leaving the house the next day, Ming Chu eyed her suspiciously, thinking: Could it be that this wretch Ming Tan, unable to bear seeing her get along with Shen Hua, deliberately dressed herself up so that the ladies and young masters of both families would have eyes only for her? How shameless for someone already betrothed to flaunt herself so brazenly!
–
The Great Xiangguo Temple was far from secluded and quiet like the Lingmiao Temple; it covered a vast area and enjoyed thriving incense offerings, with pilgrims coming and going in endless streams every day. Thus, chance encounters among the womenfolk of various noble households in the capital were altogether commonplace.
Sure enough, just outside the temple, the party from the Jing’an Marquis’s household encountered Bai Minmin and Zhou Jingwan.
Ming Tan was on good terms with these two ladies, and since she had no particular business of her own today, it was only natural that she joined them as companions.
Walking together toward the temple, they parted ways with Lady Pei and the others at a fork in the path. Only then did Ming Tan whisper, “Wanwan, did you bring the zither?”
“How would I dare disobey the young mistress’s orders?” Zhou Jingwan teased softly, then signaled to the maid behind her.
The maid curtsied respectfully and hurried off to fetch the zither from the carriage outside.
Ming Tan was exceptionally skilled at playing the zither and owned many fine instruments, but today it was truly inconvenient for her to bring one herself. Thus, last night, when she sent word to Zhou Jingwan, she had asked her to bring one along.
The three of them made their way to the resting area at the rear mountain of the temple.
Unless pressed by urgent matters, families of certain standing would typically stay for the noon vegetarian meal when visiting Daxiangguo Temple to offer incense, rest their feet, and enjoy the scenery at the rear mountain. Although Ming Tan did not know what pressing business her future husband had come to attend to at the temple, nor at what hour he would arrive, she presumed it would inevitably involve the rear mountain grounds. If fate allowed, perhaps they might even cross paths.
Having found a flower pavilion, the three shared a cup of clear tea and chatted cheerfully for a while.
Once the maid brought over the zither, Ming Tan, with her fair hands, lit incense and played a melody.
Zhou Jingwan, a woman of refined tastes with considerable insight into the art of the zither, smiled subtly after listening and remarked with hidden meaning, “A-Tan’s zither skills have grown ever more proficient; today’s performance was clearly well-prepared.”
Bai Minmin knew little about such matters, yet the piece Ming Tan played was hardly obscure; she had heard it at least ten or eight times before and knew it intimately.
Hearing Zhou Jingwan’s praise, she felt somewhat puzzled: Was that really so?
Originally, she had not intended to speak, fearing she might say something wrong and be mocked by the two. Yet she could no longer hold back; after hesitating for a long while, she finally asked, “Why does it sound to me as though one note in the final passage was mistaken?”
Ming Tan rested her chin on her hand, gesturing for Bai Minmin to come closer. Then, with a hint of mystery, she spoke slowly, word by word: “What do you know? This is precisely what they call, ‘When the melody falters, the Jiang gentleman turns to look!'”
Not far away, Shu Jingran and Zhang Huaiyu, who had been listening for quite some time, suddenly understood; Lu Ting, who had nearly dozed off from boredom, also stirred awake; and upon hearing these words, the Jiang gentleman in question truly lived up to the saying, casting a glance in their direction.