Four Seasons Brocade – CH 106

Chapter 106 ☆、

At this moment, the Prince Qi’s Mansion was brightly decorated with lanterns and red plasters everywhere, making it clear that a happy occasion was being held. Although the servants moved about busily, they remained quiet and respectful; to put it bluntly, no one wore a joyful expression. This was probably the expression one would wear at a funeral.

As was customary with the princes’ weddings, civil and military officials were expected to offer their congratulations, present gifts, and attend in person. However, they could choose to feign an imperial order or the illness of their parents and leave hastily, or they could choose to stay and enjoy the wedding feast.

However, the Fourth Prince’s wedding banquet was rather meager. It was not that the scale was low or the food poor, but rather that the number of people staying to eat was pitifully small. Most were members of the imperial family; after all, they were all considered royalty and felt embarrassed to leave.

The Fifth and Sixth Princes, who had brought their brides, remained at the table, vying to demonstrate brotherly affection. The Seventh Prince, on the other hand, grinned foolishly, clamoring to see his new bride.

At this point, the ceremony was complete. The Fourth Prince, Chu Mao, led the way, holding a red ribbon tied with a red flower at one end, which was in Ah Wu’s hand at the other. The two were escorted to the bridal chamber, surrounded by the wedding attendants and relatives.

The new residence was located in Yulan Hall on the east side of the Prince Qi’s Mansion. Yulan Hall was built according to the specifications of a prince’s sleeping quarters, with a hipped roof and green glazed tiles. Even if you were a high-ranking official, holding the highest rank, you could not live in a courtyard of such specifications; only a prince’s sleeping quarters could be like this. No wonder so many families, knowing that “entering the royal family is like entering a deep sea,” still fought tooth and nail to marry their daughters into the royal family.

At this moment, the inner chambers of Yulan Hall were crowded with noblewomen. Although there were not many male guests staying for the banquet, there were a large number of noblewomen curious about what the Fourth Imperial Consort looked like. Moreover, if the women of the inner quarters had important matters to attend to, they would naturally stay at the Prince Qi’s Mansion for a drink, which was also a way of giving face to the Fourth Prince and the imperial family.

The Longqing Emperor was a typical father who could dislike his own son but would not tolerate others disliking him.

Therefore, Yulan Hall, with its brightly lit red candles, was arguably the only place in the entire Prince Qi’s Mansion that looked most like a wedding ceremony.

The dragon and phoenix candles, as thick as a child’s arm, bathed Yulan Hall in a crimson glow, casting a blush on everyone’s face. The Fourth Prince Chu Mao’s aunts, sisters, cousins, and two younger siblings all clamored for him to quickly lift his veil.

Although young women in the capital would think twice before marrying the Fourth Prince, the thought of him marrying his princess filled them with bitterness. The mere thought that the Prince Qi, whom they privately considered the most handsome man in the Great Xia Dynasty, would belong to another woman made their hearts ache as if they had eaten a newly ripened, unripe orange—bitterly sour.

Today, Chu Mao wore what might be the only red robe of his life, casting a rosy glow on his handsome, fair face. This brought the usually ethereal, otherworldly figure back to the mundane world, adding a touch of captivating approachability.

Looking at Chu Mao up close, not only his female relatives but even his blood sisters were mesmerized. Even the ladies in their thirties and early forties blushed. Fortunately, the room was crowded, filled with the glow of red candlelight, and everyone, with the thought, “With so many people around, no one will notice me,” began to openly scrutinize this famously handsome man.

Chu Mao was tall and slender, with a wasp waist and broad back, lean yet not frail, possessing a majestic and imposing presence, like a jade mountain standing tall in Kunwu or an orchid exuding fragrance in a jade pool. His very appearance was captivating, not to mention his sculpted, otherworldly face.

Chu Mao’s appearance was actually rather refined and handsome, yet it also stirred a cool, refreshing sensation within one’s heart, a sensation so intense it almost made one want to moan.

Some of the usually bold noblewomen had already begun to glance at his lower body. His slender waist and long legs—what would they look like in motion? Would they drive a young woman to ecstasy? Thinking of this, they could not help but swallow hard.

In the past, these women would never have dared to look at Chu Mao like this, but tonight was his wedding night, imbued with an air of passion and desire, which stirred up alluring thoughts within them.

The more this was the case, the more jealous they became of Ah Wu, who was currently sitting gracefully on the wedding bed, covered by a bright red veil embroidered with gold dragons and phoenixes.

Even though Chu Mao’s heart was filled with furrowed brows, a slight, feignedly approachable smile remained on his lips. This sight had already made many people secretly replace Ah Wu in their hearts, their souls drifting as they sat on the wedding bed themselves.

Chu Mao took the gold-leaf-wrapped auspicious symbol from the matchmaker’s hands, and without hesitation or delay, without giving anyone time to prepare, quickly lifted the bride’s veil.

Most grooms at this moment would be anxious and hesitant, their hearts pounding, hoping the bride would not be plain-looking. Their anxiety stemmed from anticipation, but the Fourth Prince Chu Mao remained calm, showing no anxiety whatsoever, nor the joy expected of a groom.

If it were not for the fact that Chu Mao was wearing a bright red robe, his face glowing in the candlelight, his naturally somber expression would have been perfectly appropriate for attending a funeral.

The moment the bride’s veil was lifted, and she slightly raised her head, everyone in the room fell silent. Even the matchmaker, who had been uttering auspicious words, suddenly stopped speaking, her mouth agape.

If one were to ask who had seen the most brides in their life, it would undoubtedly be this matchmaker. She was a woman of great fortune, blessed with both a long life and two children, and possessed a silver tongue, especially adept at uttering auspicious words; she was the royal matchmaker. But how many weddings could the imperial family hold? With the tacit approval of the Imperial Household Department, this matchmaker was also the most sought-after by all the respectable families in the capital.

Therefore, she had seen countless brides, all beautiful women of distinguished birth, but she dared to say that even if she were a matchmaker for three lifetimes, she would never see a girl more beautiful than this bride.

Even Chu Mao, who could remain unmoved even if struck by lightning, was stunned for a moment, a hint of amazement flashing in his eyes. He never imagined that the short, stocky girl who had clung to his leg, crying, “Brother, save me!” would grow up to look like this.

“Fourth Brother is so lucky! Sister-in-law is truly beautiful,” said Princess Changhe, the eleventh daughter of the Longqing Emperor, the first to speak.

The other women followed suit, offering their congratulations. Those who had been secretly envious were now in agony. Even those who had been daydreaming about the Fourth Prince loving another man’s wife more than his principal wife, after being stunned by Ah Wu’s beauty, admitted that such daydreams were simply too unrealistic.

The matchmaker, regaining her composure, tied the robes of the newlyweds together and began scattering on the bridal veils:

“Scatter a date, lead a little one (son),

Scatter a chestnut, lead a little one (daughter),

A handful of chestnuts, a handful of dates,

The older one leads the younger one running,

A handful of chestnuts, a handful of money,

The older one leads the younger one playing.”

The matchmaker sang rustic auspicious phrases. In her decades of experience, she knew that the wealthier the family, the more they preferred these rustic bridal veil-scattering songs, while those of modest means preferred more refined phrases like “One scattering of gold and silver, two scatterings of sons and daughters, three scatterings of peace and health.”

Ah Wu wavered slightly at the song. She was now a grown woman, and before her marriage, Lady Cui had specially hired a matron to teach her this most important lesson in life. For example, pointing to a pamphlet, she might say that certain positions made it easier for a woman to conceive, ideally with a pillow under her and her head lower than her feet for a while after intercourse. Or she might calculate on her fingers, saying that if your period was at the end of the month, the middle of the month was the most fertile.

Ah Wu was no ordinary woman; she was naturally pure and noble, pure as snow, coming from purity and returning to purity. Who would want to engage in such vulgar and sordid acts with a man and then risk their life to bear a child?

Ah Wu had already planned it out. Throughout history, there had been many empresses without children. As long as she did not harbor any ill intentions, she could become Empress Dowager alongside the Emperor’s mother. If there were princes whose maternal families were not prominent or whose mothers had died young, they could be adopted and raised.

See the four beautiful maids standing neatly beside Ah Wu? These were the most exquisite beauties she had carefully selected over the past two years, their talent and charm unparalleled. They were specially prepared for the Fourth Prince’s enjoyment.

Ah Wu seemed shy and coy, not daring to lift her eyelids, much less look directly at Chu Mao. In truth, she simply did not want to look at her “fourth cousin”—he was too unpleasant.

After the formalities were completed, Chu Mao rose and went outside to entertain the guests. Ah Wu’s sisters-in-law came forward and exchanged a few warm words with her, and the Fifth Prince’s Consort introduced Ah Wu to each of the women in the room.

Then Yin Xuexia discovered that this Princess Qi, Rong Xuan, whom almost no one had heard of or seen before, was incredibly intelligent. She only needed to say a few words, and Rong Xuan could accurately name everyone. Keep in mind that there were at least twenty people in the room, and they were all related; several looked quite alike, and several dressed similarly, yet this Princess Qi had not mistaken a single one.

Such beauty, such intelligence, and yet such an unassuming demeanor—Yin Xuexia immediately labeled Ah Wu a “dangerous person” in her mind.

The Sixth Prince’s Consort and Princess Rui stared at Ah Wu with grim faces. Herui had always admired Gu Tingyi; she had even dared to harm Tang Yin for merely glancing at him a few times because of Gu Tingyi. Let alone the rumored Princess Qi, whom Gu Tingyi supposedly favored. Unfortunately, she had never found an opportunity to act, and seeing Ah Wu’s appearance now, how could she not grit her teeth in fury?

“Sixth Sister,” came Rong Wan, now the Sixth Prince’s concubine. Ah Wu saw that Rong Wan had her hair styled in a married woman’s hair, elegant and dignified, with a hint of fatigue on her face, but her bearing was still excellent. She truly deserved to be called one of the twin beauties of the capital, far surpassing the clueless Herui.

Rong Wan still addressed Ah Wu using the old sisterly order of seniority, showing both sisterly affection and dignified composure.

“Fifth Sister,” Ah Wu called out.

The two exchanged a smile, but nothing more.

After finally managing to get rid of all the distant relatives, Ah Wu could finally rest.

Zi-Shan and Tong-Wen helped Ah Wu remove her headdress and makeup, and then she washed and dressed in a clean room. She changed into a light and comfortable soft red silk dress. Zi-Shan then simply styled Ah Wu’s hair into a bun. Since it was her wedding day, she could not be as plain as Ah Wu usually was, so she adorned the center of the bun with a gold hairpin inlaid with rubies. Each ruby ​​was about the size of a thumbnail, sparkling and translucent, while a slightly smaller, smoothly polished ruby ​​dangled down her forehead.

Strictly speaking, aside from her elaborate wedding makeup today, this was the most glamorous Ah Wu had ever dressed. Normally, she would simply style her hair into a bun and wear a jade or wooden hairpin.

Zi-Shan stood behind Ah Wu, staring at her reflection in the Western-style mirror, somewhat mesmerized.

“I told you this hairpin with the dangling pearls would make the prince stare blankly. Look, even Sister Zi-Shan is mesmerized.” Tong-Wen was in charge of Ah Wu’s jewelry and was naturally familiar with it; she was the one who took care of Ah Wu’s clothes.

“You look even more beautiful now than when you wore the flower crown,” Zi-Shan said without arguing.

Ah Wu’s lips curled up slightly. Of course, the custom-made flower crown worn by princesses on their wedding day could not possibly be that beautiful.

“Where’s Zi-Zhui? Where did she go? I am starving!” Ah Wu’s voice was softer than usual from hunger.

Just then, Zi-Zhui brought in a black lacquered wooden tray with gold trim, on which sat a bowl of bird’s nest porridge and four kinds of side dishes. “Please eat, Miss. These are all ingredients brought from home.”

This was not Zi-Zhui being petty; before Ah Wu left, Master Rong, Lady Cui, and the two other masters had all instructed her to be extra careful when serving Ah Wu her meals. There were plenty of scandalous things happening in this family, especially with two concubines who had entered the household earlier.

Ah Wu ate her porridge slowly, chewing carefully with the side dishes, but her heart was pounding. She could not taste anything. At that moment, she did not care about the safety of the food, the layout of the room, or the servants. Her heart was filled with worry for the upcoming “spring night.”

Therefore, Ah Wu only ate half a bowl of porridge before putting it down.

Zi-Zhui said worriedly, “Miss has not eaten all day; why have you only eaten so little?”

Before Ah Wu could answer, her wet nurse, Nanny Sang, said, “Zi-Zhui, you should call her Princess Consort now.” Nanny Sang walked in, saying, “The banquet has ended; I think the Prince should be coming soon.”

The teacup in Ah Wu’s hand fell to the ground with a “clatter.”

“Ah, peace and safety year after year, peace and safety year after year,” Nanny Sang quickly said. Zi-Shan and Zi-Zhui rushed forward to pick up the broken pieces.

Ah Wu’s heart pounded harder with each footstep outside.