Volume III, Real Ancient Capital, Chapter 76: Royal regret Marriage
by Xiao Xiang Dong'Er | Translated and Arranged by Angel Chua
That night, Cang Yun was weeping blood, and the entire state shared in its sorrow. The god of the heavens opened his slumbering eyes and gazed down upon the mortal beings below. At the ancient city gate, the empire's foundations trembled in the northern wind, while the roaring people of troubled times stepped into their first glory. The whole land of Ximeng was awakened at that moment, and the time had come. All that had destroyed the Old World would surely be obliterated, and from the ashes, a new order would be reborn.
A nation of heroes is, by nature, a tragic one—just as a peaceful life is inevitably mediocre and trivial.
May 20th would later become synonymous with bloodshed, and that infamous night has since fed a group of senior scholars now living in poverty.
Numerous historians have devoted their lives to studying the details of that night. They have excavated the past, dug through ancient doors, and scoured the classics. They've leapt from one debate to another, writing their own historical interpretations. Several prominent academic schools, revered by society, focus on the study of Yanmai, Zhuge, and Zhao Che, all of which have their roots here.
Yet despite their differing views—whether debating who bears the primary responsibility for the May 20 massacre, or if the Great Summer Empire's social system was destined to collapse—all the learned societies agree on one point: a major collegiate figure, crucial in the development of future history, played an essential role in these events. The veterans of the Yanma Academy directed attention to the Grand Hall of Fame as the massacre's key site. Citing evidence from the period before May 20 (though the exact date remains unverified), they assert that western desert tribes had always fought the imperialist command of the Imperial Horse Guards, with some warriors falling to the empire's sword. This discovery bolstered their theory, and Yanbei historians argued that their great Yanbei nation, known for mercy and brilliance, could not commit such cruel acts. The massacre, they claim, was a private feud between regimes, not an action led by the northern emperor.
Though some factions mocked the notion of "merciful cloth," they had to admit that the Yanbei leader was indeed brilliant and esteemed throughout history. Despite differing opinions among scholars, none denied the glaring contradiction: the massacre was later described as the "Great Avenge."
In the lavish Fang Gui Hall, fragrant wines flowed, and the women's sleeves twirled gracefully. Thirty-two gathered to celebrate, though the dinner had not yet begun and the emperor's presence had not been officially announced. The atmosphere was light, as if the night had yet to reach its peak.
Due to her status, Chu Qiao was forced to remain in the second chamber, watching the lively crowds from afar. Summer in the Great Dynasties was thriving on the surface, yet corruption ran deep.
"This girl," a soft voice spoke near her. Chu Qiao turned to see a serene young woman, dressed in a light pink butterfly-patterned gown. With a gentle expression, she asked politely, "May I ask your name? My father is Lou He Chang Lu."
The girl appeared warm and amiable, and Chu Qiao nodded courteously. "I am Chu Qiao, a close friend of Yan Shizi."
"Oh, so it's Miss Chu." The young lady's smile faded, her demeanor cooling noticeably. She turned to engage with the other noblewomen, distancing herself from Chu Qiao.
A series of glances, filled with contempt and disdain, were cast in Chu Qiao's direction. Smiling faintly, Chu Qiao sipped her tea, having long grown accustomed to the coldness of the world.
The noblewomen misunderstood her tea-drinking as a sign of impropriety, and soon whispers of scorn filled the air. They spoke in low tones, loud enough to be heard, yet not identifiable.
Chu Qiao ignored their gossip, focusing instead on the tea before her.
Suddenly, the room quieted, and a shadow loomed over the table. In the tea's reflection, Chu Qiao saw the striking figure of Zhuge Yue standing nearby, his deep purple robe adorned with dark moon patterns. The scent of magnolia and the rustle of wind brushed against his clothes.
The women in the chamber stared in awe, their admiration clear. The Zhuge family, with its powerful influence, was beyond reach for most of them. Zhuge Yue's presence was overwhelming.
Zhuge Yue scanned the room, his gaze briefly resting on Chu Qiao before moving past her. The woman beside Chu Qiao, flustered and excited, accidentally spilled tea on her skirt while trying to make room for Zhuge Yue. Her face flushed with embarrassment, but Zhuge Yue didn't spare her a glance. He simply sat down, seemingly absorbed in his own thoughts.
"Master Zhuge Yue, please have some tea," the flustered woman offered.
Miss He Luo stood beside him, her face full of surprise.
Everyone's envious eyes were on her as she offered a cup of tea to Zhuge Yue. Without speaking, Zhuge Yue took the cup, sniffed it lightly, and then sipped it with a slight touch, never lifting his gaze.
Miss He Luo was overjoyed, and a lively discussion erupted around them. For the fourth young master of the esteemed Zhuge family to accept tea from this young woman—what an honor!
Miss He Luo smiled radiantly, though with the timidity of someone from a small family. She adjusted the angle of her skirt as she slowly sat down beside Zhuge Yue. Her eyes, sharp as knives, darted towards the other women, her face flushed with pride. After gathering her composure, she leaned slightly forward and whispered, "Master Zhuge Yue, you've just returned to the capital, haven't you?"
Zhuge Yue remained silent. The girl persisted softly, "We met briefly at the last hunting event, though we were quite far apart. I didn't think the young master would remember me."
Zhuge Yue still didn't reply, his expression unchanged as he held the white jade cup, his brows slightly furrowed, lost in thought.
The second court, unlike the grand main hall, was cramped. Though the noble ladies gathered in small groups to chat, their attention was divided, each one clearly straining to hear the conversation near Zhuge Yue.
Miss He Luo's face showed a hint of embarrassment as she bit her lower lip. Softly, she added, "Master Zhuge, I am He Luofei, daughter of the Ministry of Gifts, Ho Kongdon Changlu."
Zhuge Yue finally looked up and said, "Do you mind sharing a seat with someone?"
Surprised, He Luofei quickly replied, "I don't mind, Mayfair does not mind at all."
"Oh, that's good," Zhuge said with a nod. He glanced around the room, then beckoned to a woman watching him from afar. "You, come here."
The woman approached, her face flushed with excitement. With a polite smile, she asked, "Did you call for me?"
"Yes," Zhuge nodded, then asked, "Do you mind sharing a seat with others?"
He Luofei, now confused, watched as the woman smiled and said, "Of course, the young master of the Zhuge family can ask anything of me. I wouldn't mind."
Zhuge Yue responded, "Then, please take her seat."
Stunned, He Luofei exclaimed in confusion, "Master Zhuge Yue, you…"
"Come along now," the other woman smiled and pulled He Luofei by the arm. "Did you think you had truly caught the windfall of the century? Off you go."
He Luofei's face turned crimson as tears welled up in her eyes. She bit her lip and allowed herself to be led away, trembling with humiliation. The daughters who had been speaking with her moments ago now giggled softly at her misfortune.
Fang Gui Hall was the grandest of the Great Summer Palace, featuring 36 water pavilions and hundreds of intricately carved gallery roads that twisted and turned throughout. Its cross-arched doors and glass-glazed tiles shimmered, and its delicate cornices and brackets were a testament to the skill and magnificence of the builders. The temple was dedicated to Fanggui Bacchus, and the main hall was encircled by four large side halls, connected by waterways adorned with fragrant blue grass, flowers, and bamboo.
At this moment, the atmosphere in the main hall had become more lively. Most of the civil and military officials were already present. Yet in the second pavilion, where Zhuge Yue remained, the focus of attention was clearly on him. He sat quietly, drinking tea, indifferent to the attention, his plain black clothes and demeanor betraying no emotion, only a hint of frustration.
Just then, a trumpeter announced from the main hall: "Crown Prince Bian Tang, His Royal Highness Prince Seven, and His Royal Highness Prince Thirteen have arrived!"
The excitement in Fang Gui Hall was palpable as the guests waited eagerly. The top three princes of Bian Tang, known for their unruly behavior, had finally arrived. The eldest, notorious for his debauchery, fully embodied the spirit of a wayward son.
On this day, however, Prince Li Ce appeared more dignified than usual. He wore a red silk gown adorned with a black-and-white Muran pattern, his golden crown gleaming as brightly as his smile. His exuberance was so strong that it overshadowed the presence of Zhao Che and Zhao Yan, who stood beside him.
Zhao Che, mourning the recent loss of his mother, was dressed in simple brown robes, his expression solemn and impatient, clearly not by choice.
Li Ce laughed boisterously, offering a hand in apology. "Forgive my tardiness."
The music and dancing resumed, filling the air as Li Ce and the other princes made their way to their designated seats. But before they could sit, a cold voice rang out: "I heard that Prince Cecilia Lee, despite his early arrival, has only now graced us with his presence. May I ask what delayed him? Affairs of the heart, perhaps?"
Laughter broke out as all eyes turned to the speaker—a woman dressed in red, adorned with three red feathers. Her sharp eyes gleamed with satire, and it was none other than the fire cloud patriarch of the southern desert's nine tribes.
The crowd's laughter grew louder, as this was no small rivalry. The royal court of Sui and Bian Tang had long whispered about the tension between Li Ce and this woman. After all, he had destroyed her engagement to Wen Shaosong, but like many of Li Ce's affairs, the scandal had fizzled out over time. Yet today, her words hinted that the wound had yet to heal.
Li Ce's expression brightened as he grinned. "Ah, but this is the Great Summer Palace, not Linger's bedroom. I don't think my tardiness warrants such a question."
The hall erupted into laughter, but flames of anger flared in the woman's eyes. She reached for the red whip by her side, ready to stand and confront him.
Just as she moved, Zhao Che stepped forward, placing a calming hand on her shoulder. He spoke softly, "This is the Great Summer Palace, after all."
The fire cloud patriarch reached out and stopped her daughter, then looked at Li Ce with fury. Her anger was as boundless as water, and even from a distance, it sent a chill through the room.
Zhao Che rose from his seat and returned to his place beside Li Ce. The unruly princes of the Sui and Tang dynasties, always eager for trouble, smiled as one of them patted Zhao Che on the shoulder. "It's all on you now," he said with a laugh.
The music shifted to a more jubilant tune. Li Ce leaned in closer to Zhao Che, glancing around before asking quietly, "Qiao Qiao? Have you seen her?"
Zhao Che frowned. "Who is Jojo?"
Li Ce made an animated gesture as he spoke, "She's the soldier under your command—the one who hit me with a few punches."
Zhao Che's brows furrowed even more as he glanced at Li Ce, wondering if the man had a penchant for punishment. Shaking his head, Zhao Che replied, "I haven't seen her. This is a grand summer feast. Her status may not allow her to be here."
Li Ce sighed dramatically. "Isn't she here to marry her master? Poor Qiao Qiao, married off to Yan Xun. She must be hiding somewhere, crying her eyes out."
Li Ce turned to the Thirteenth Prince and asked, "Have you seen Jojo? She's the pretty little girl who was always around Yan Xun and punched me once."
Zhao Song, who had been tasked with accompanying Li Ce and was clearly fed up, turned and responded coldly, "I don't know."
Li Ce asked around, but no one seemed to know where Chu Qiao was. Frustrated, he suddenly stood up, looking around the room. His actions attracted everyone's attention, including the dancers, as curious eyes followed him. Even Zhao Che and Zhao Song watched him with apprehension, fearing that he might do something outrageous.
When the entire Fanggui Hall had quieted down, and all eyes were on him, Li Ce suddenly shouted, "Jo Jo!"
His voice boomed through the hall, silencing the musicians and shocking the guests. The music stopped abruptly, and the entire hall was plunged into a stunned silence. Everyone turned their gaze toward him in disbelief, as though they were witnessing something as strange as a pig seated on a throne.
"Puchi," a soft chuckle broke the silence. Chu Qiao glanced over at Zhuge Yue, catching a glimpse of the faint smile on his face. He looked at her with a mischievous glint, clearly enjoying the spectacle.
"Jo Jo, where are you?" Li Ce called out again, seemingly oblivious to the eyes on him, as though the hall belonged to him alone.
Before he could continue, a cold voice cut through the air. "Alright, stop calling me. I'm here."
Chu Qiao stood up with a calm, cold expression. She had spent years enduring the pressures of life in dangerous courts, and it showed in her composed demeanor. Her voice was clear as she addressed him from the second chamber.
Li Ce's face lit up with a grin. "Haha, I knew it was you," he said, turning to the other guests. "Carry on, don't mind me. Musicians, keep playing!"
Ignoring the decorum of the event, Li Ce climbed over the seats and crossed the hall with little regard for his clothing or propriety.
Meanwhile, the people in the second chamber stared at Chu Qiao, unsure what to make of the scene that had just unfolded.
"Jo Jo, do you drink? Let's have a drink together!" Li Ce called out.
Chu Qiao, now seated again, furrowed her brow. She knew this attention was dangerous, as it could jeopardize the crucial actions she needed to take that night. With an air of indifference, she said, "If you're a nobleman, you should know better than to ignore propriety. Please leave me be."
Li Ce, ever the troublemaker, smiled slyly. "Qiao Qiao, I'm so touched. You're always looking out for me." He moved as if to sit next to her, but Chu Qiao remained motionless, not offering him a seat. With a sheepish laugh, he scratched his nose and moved to the next available seat. Turning to a young woman nearby, he asked, "Would this lovely lady make some room for me?"
The girl, no more than thirteen or fourteen, seemed unsure of what was happening. Startled by Li Ce's forwardness, she quickly stood and giggled nervously as she gave up her seat. The palace attendants hurried over, bringing Li Ce's golden cup and other ceremonial items.
Chu Qiao let out a small sigh. The second chamber had suddenly become far livelier than the main hall, and now all eyes were on this side of the palace. As the murmurs spread, Li Ce looked around in surprise, realizing that Zhuge Yue was sitting nearby. Speculative whispers filled the air, reverberating throughout the hall.
"The fourth young master of Zhuge, you and I are both men of vision," Li Ce said, raising his cup toward Zhuge Yue with a warm smile. "Let's drink and celebrate Yan Shizi's upcoming marriage."
Zhuge Yue gave a faint smile, lifting his cup slightly. Without saying a word, he downed his wine.
At that moment, the sound of drums filled the air, and all heads turned toward the main hall. The golden curtain parted, and the emperor of the Great Summer appeared, slowly walking out in his golden robes. Chu Qiao bowed along with the crowd, catching a glimpse of the emperor's thin face and frost-touched hair. His eyes, cold and deep as ancient wells, briefly settled on Chu Qiao's face.
Immediately, Chu Qiao lowered her head, her heart tightening with anxiety. This was the emperor, a man whose presence alone commanded awe and fear. Even his gaze carried the weight of authority.
Li Ce stood apart, exempt from bowing as both the messenger of his country and a prince himself. He looked relaxed, as though unfazed by the emperor's grandeur. As they bowed, he leaned toward Chu Qiao and whispered, "Don't be scared of him. He's just like the old man in my house—nothing more than an actor in a fancy costume."
If Chu Qiao could, she would have punched him again, but unfortunately, this thought remained just that—an unfulfilled wish. After the ceremony concluded, everyone returned to their seats. Xia Huang, the emperor, spoke a few introductory words and turned his attention to the second court. With a chuckle, he asked, "Prince Li Ce, how did you end up there? Weren't you given a seat?"
Li Ce, always quick with a retort, responded playfully, "I wouldn't dare to complain, Your Majesty. It's cooler over here, and I'm quite comfortable."
Xia Huang nodded, then said, "Zhuge, accompany Prince Li Ce."
With those words, Zhuge Yue's family members exchanged glances, their expressions slightly awkward. Zhuge Yue didn't turn to look at his relative, Zhuge Muqing, in the main hall. Instead, he calmly replied, "I will follow Your Majesty's instructions."
The emperor then inquired, "Has Yan Shizi's carriage entered the inner city yet?"
An official stepped forward and said, "Your Majesty, no report has been received from the gatekeepers yet."
Xia Huang's brow furrowed slightly, and Chu Qiao felt a sudden surge of anxiety. She listened as Xia Huang continued, "Today is both my birthday and the day of the marriage. Yan Xun has come of age and is marrying the princess. The empire is relieved. You all are the backbone of the nation. Even though Yan Xun hails from the northern Hebei troops, where the blood of snow has run cold, he has always enjoyed the emperor's favor. After today, Yanbei will officially recognize Yan Xun as its king. I hope that all of you will unite as one and grow stronger together."
A chorus of praise followed:
"Indeed, Yanbei's son is the only one capable of being a wise ruler for this generation."
"Your Majesty's kindness and generosity are unparalleled. Yan Shizi will surely be deeply grateful and will serve Your Majesty with loyalty unto death."
"Princess Chun is beautiful, and Yan Shizi is fortunate to have such a virtuous partner. By Your Majesty's grace, they will undoubtedly serve the nation with great devotion."
"If a man like Yan Shizi is at the helm, we will certainly enjoy prosperity and peace."
And so, one after another, voices sang the emperor's praises. Xia Huang smiled, fully absorbing the accolades, clearly pleased.
Such praise was necessary to maintain appearances. Even if Yan Xun were to die, no one would suspect the emperor. Chu Qiao scanned the hall and noticed that the Batuha family had not made an appearance, and even the Princess of Huai Song had not arrived. This struck her as odd and somewhat troubling.
At that moment, a guard dressed in Tsing Yi slipped into the second chamber, approaching Chu Qiao. He bent down and whispered something in her ear. Chu Qiao nodded, and the man quickly departed.
Li Ce noticed and immediately swooped over, leaning in like an old friend. "Jojo, who was that? What did he tell you?"
Chu Qiao frowned at him, wanting to respond but realizing it would be futile. Instead, she turned away, ignoring him. Undeterred, Li Ce continued to prod her, and then looked across to Zhuge Yue. "Zhuge Yue, do you know?"
With a faint smile, Zhuge Yue replied, "If even Prince Li Ce doesn't know, how could anyone else?"
Li Ce nodded sagely, "You're right."
Just then, a commotion arose outside the hall. A woman's voice could be heard crying out loudly, drawing the attention of everyone inside. The emperor raised an eyebrow and asked coldly, "What is going on out there?"
A bodyguard entered, visibly nervous, with sweat beading on his forehead. He bowed deeply and replied, "Your Majesty, it's Princess Chun'er. She insists on seeing you urgently."
Everyone was taken aback. Chu Qiao, too, glanced toward the entrance, sensing that something unusual was about to unfold. Xia Huang frowned and said, "Princess Chun'er? What does she want?"
"The princess says she must speak with Your Majesty immediately, despite the ritual proceedings."
The Empress Shu, seated beside the emperor, spoke coldly, her voice crisp, "It is her wedding day. How dare she cause a scene? Take her away and inform her that Yan Shizi is about to enter the city."
At that moment, Xuan Guiqi, smiling softly, interjected, "Chun'er is young and might be feeling anxious. After all, she's only ten. Perhaps we should show her some leniency."
"As a royal princess, she should know her place. What nonsense is this? Take her back and look after her properly," the empress replied, her tone sharp.
Tears welled up in Xuan Guiqi's eyes as she spoke tenderly, "The Queen of Mu He only recently passed away. Is it right for Sister Shu to treat her daughter so coldly? Does this seem sisterly to you?"
"What did you say—"
Before Empress Shu could respond, a shout suddenly erupted from outside the hall, "Father! Princess Chun'er has something important to say!"
Everyone in the hall turned, their expressions confused and curious. Xia Huang was silent for a moment, pondering. Finally, with a wave of his hand, he said, "Let her come in."
A strong gust of wind swept through the doorway as Zhao Chun'er entered, dressed in a lavish red robe. Her hair was disheveled from the rush, and her pale face was filled with anxiety. The entire hall watched as the night wind caught the edges of her robe, lifting it like the wings of a butterfly drenched in blood—delicate, broken, and tragic.
"Father!" the young girl cried out, her voice trembling as she strode forward. Kneeling heavily on the ground, she bowed her head in a show of deep respect. "Please take back your decree! Princess Chun'er does not wish to marry!"
AC Afterthought
This chapter masterfully intertwines political tension, personal dynamics, and royal intrigue, painting a vivid picture of life in a high-stakes imperial court. From the looming presence of the emperor to the playful yet disruptive behavior of Prince Li Ce, the characters navigate a minefield of decorum, power plays, and hidden motives. Chu Qiao's internal struggle contrasts sharply with the outward elegance of the royal setting, highlighting her personal stakes amidst the grandeur.
At its core, the chapter explores the themes of control, duty, and defiance. The emperor's speech is filled with artifice, a reminder of the delicate balance of power and the necessary facade of loyalty and unity. Beneath the layers of formality, however, are raw, unspoken tensions—Chu Qiao's anxiety about Yan Xun, Li Ce's unpredictable antics, and most strikingly, Princess Chun'er's bold plea to avoid her forced marriage.
Princess Chun'er's defiance against her fate brings an emotional climax to the chapter. Her entrance, battered by the wind, mirrors the fragility of a young girl trapped within the rigid expectations of royal duty. Her refusal to marry symbolizes a quiet rebellion against a system that seeks to bind her to an unwanted destiny.
Overall, the chapter is a compelling mixture of pageantry and rebellion. It examines the burdens of power and the personal costs that come with it, setting the stage for deeper conflict and emotional complexity. The tension between duty and personal desire is palpable, as each character walks the tightrope between maintaining their public persona and confronting the private turmoil beneath the surface.