Chapter Four: That Which I Love

Unbeknownst to them, they had already ascended to the grand hall. The solemn chamber was resplendent, with golden-carved dragons soaring amidst clouds, every detail so refined that the dragons seemed to radiate a brilliance that could pierce the heavens.

“In the thirtieth year of the Summoning Moon, of the royal line of Ji, this king hereby names Xuexue as the Queen of the Western Palace, bestows upon her the title ‘Blood.’ Red is what I cherish; blood is red, and red is an omen of auspiciousness and good fortune, a sign of the nation’s peace and prosperity, and a decree of celebration for all under heaven. With this, I confer upon her residence in the Snow Peace Palace, a hundred palace maids, a thousand bolts of silk, and ten thousand taels of gold.”

The royal herald read the decree aloud, his voice resounding far and wide throughout the hall. Yet it was the phrase “what I cherish” that made Xuexue’s lips involuntarily curl into a faint smile.

What, she wondered, is love?

“Kneel and pay homage to the Queen,” came the next command from the Chief Priest. The court officials rose swiftly, their voices united in congratulations: “Long live the King! Ten thousand years to the Blood Queen!” The declaration rolled through the hall like a mighty wave, capable of engulfing all present.

“What do you think, my Blood?” Ji Wuqing leaned in, whispering with a casual intimacy that defied decorum, his voice delicate and intoxicating, like a jar of aged wine.

“Whatever His Majesty decides is for the best,” Xuexue replied, clear-headed and composed. She nodded slightly, her manner indifferent.

Once a fallen princess, now a queen in a foreign land. Perhaps to the woman she once was—Yuansnow—this would have been a bitter irony. But to Xuexue, it was insignificant. After all, was there any difference?

Yuansnow had been the daughter of a general, yet only a concubine’s child. In this age where birth meant everything, her existence had barely mattered; her status only a step above that of a servant. When her father’s power began to wane, he ruthlessly sent Yuansnow to the palace, offering her as a consort in hopes of securing his position. She suffered endlessly in the palace, her spirit broken, and at last ended her brief life with a cup of poison.

Different endings, yet such similar fates.

A jade-hued full moon cast shadows, and the wind stirred the night, dancing across the windowsill.

Within the bedchamber, all was hushed. Scarlet brocade covered the long tables, rattan chairs, and platters of fruit and cakes. At the innermost part lay a wide bed draped in red silk, spacious enough for four or five people. Red gauze curtains hung with golden sashes, five layers deep; when lowered, they sealed the bed in complete privacy.

Palace maids waited outside, save for Peachblossom, dressed in pink, who stood at the new bride’s side.

At last, after a long while, the doors opened; a scattering of footsteps approached, growing nearer and heavier.

“Greetings, Your Majesty,” the maids outside intoned, bowing before quietly taking their leave.

“My lady, His Majesty has arrived,” Peachblossom whispered to Xuexue at the bedside, then stepped aside as Ji Wuqing approached, bowing respectfully.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting, my Blood. I am late.” He moved to her side with a grace like drifting clouds, his elegant demeanor, gently arched brows, and warm, courteous smile as if he held a thousand lifetimes of tenderness.

Yet the young woman seated on the bed remained utterly still, her head lowered, the veil cascading in a graceful arc, as if lost in thought or—more accurately—asleep.

The matrons and maids who followed in were startled, but dared not speak, merely standing with silver trays at a respectful distance.

“So fond of sleep,” Ji Wuqing chuckled softly, his mirth reaching even his eyes.

He reached out, and with the slightest touch on her shoulder, the girl collapsed gently onto the bed. Her red-clad figure sank into the scarlet bedding, the sheer veil brushing her face, outlining her features in soft blur.

Startled awake by instinct, the woman on the bed looked up, wary. But after a moment, she relaxed and sat up, her movements unhurried and poised.

How had she fallen so soundly asleep? She was accustomed to light, restless slumber, never daring to drift so deeply. Had her month of ease made her careless?

Her hesitation did not escape him. “Are you upset with me, my Blood, to stay so silent?” Ji Wuqing’s tone was unexpectedly plaintive.

“When did Your Majesty arrive? Forgive me; my eyes do not see well,” she replied, tilting her head in confusion, the formal address awkward on her lips. She had thought she’d simply dozed off, never expecting Ji Wuqing to be there. Had her vigilance truly faded so much?

“How could I blame you?” he soothed her, his understanding clear. He rose, slipped off her red embroidered shoes, and lifted her into the inner bed. “Sit here first.” With that, he joined her, sitting opposite on the bed.

“Madam Yue, you may come in now. Let us begin,” he called to the waiting matrons and maids outside.

Xuexue understood at once—they were to perform the Ji Kingdom’s wedding rites.

“Greetings, Your Highness,” intoned the dignified Madam Yue, bowing with two young maids. Though her temple hair was streaked with age, her bearing was unshaken.

Madam Yue turned to fetch a red brocade cloth from a silver tray, dipped it in a small silver basin, and then wiped the wrists of both Ji Wuqing and Xuexue, chanting softly as she worked.

“This is the pure water of the Ru River, to wash away the dust of the past, to cleanse all former stains. May your union be as pure as these waters, blessed in this night of marriage.”

Once both were cleansed, Madam Yue replaced the cloth and took up a red silk ribbon from another tray.

The ribbon was bound around their wrists, tying his left hand to hers, and his right to hers, the knots tight and unyielding, the two ribbons crossing in an invisible bond.

“Red cords at the wrist, hearts joined forever, a union made eternal. The ceremony is complete. May the King and Queen drink the wedding cup together.” Two small silver cups of wine were presented, each no bigger than two fingers, engraved with delicate blossoms and lively scenes of dragons and phoenixes—a testament to the artisan’s skill.

Yet such intricacies could hardly delight Xuexue. She merely marveled at the elaborate customs of ancient marriage, finding them almost tiresome.

She took the cup; the fragrance of the wine was intoxicating, touched with the scent of fruit. It went down smoothly, not biting the tongue, with a hint of sweet tartness—so much like the fruit wines of the twenty-first century. She could not help but lick her lips, savoring the lingering sweetness.

“Congratulations to the King and Queen!” Madam Yue offered her blessing with a smile, and at Ji Wuqing’s signal, led the two young maids out of the chamber.

Peachblossom stepped forward, lowered the bed’s gauze curtains, bowed, and withdrew, leaving the bedchamber silent and still, the two of them seated face to face.

…The author’s note…

The grand wedding is here! Tossing flowers everywhere! Thank you to all my beloved readers—you are all what I cherish most. (*￣3)(ε￣*)

Also, updates are currently scheduled daily at 6:00. Any changes will be announced. This book is from…