MFMH C99

Chapter 99 — Marriage

Spring’s warmth spread across the land, and in the fields, villagers bustled about, busy with spring plowing and preparation. Having placed his hopes upon the experimental plots, ever since returning from the border to the capital, Shen Yanbei had spent most of his leisure days in the fields.

As the temperature gradually rose, the wheat seedlings pushed out leaves and stems. Shen Yanbei directed the villagers to apply fertilizer, water, and weed, tending every acre of the fifty mu of winter wheat with the utmost care.

The hundred mu of chili peppers planted the previous year had all perished in the frost. Shen Yanbei ordered the seedlings pulled up, the soil tilled, and the land prepared for planting spring wheat, using select seeds saved from the last year’s harvest. At the same time, he purchased new land for chili cultivation. The market for chili was immense; this time he not only bought land himself but also mobilized the villagers to join. He distributed chili seeds freely to the villagers of Louxia Village, teaching them how to cultivate them, determined to spread the crop.

His ambitions were not excessive, nor was he greedy for wealth. His current rank and station already afforded him ample comfort. He had neither the time nor inclination to claw for more.

The villagers of Louxia Village nearly wept with joy, grateful beyond words, and tended their crops with redoubled care.

The bumper harvest of spring wheat the previous year had already convinced them that this top scholar was a veritable immortal of agriculture. This year, they followed Shen Yanbei without hesitation, even imitating his methods in their own plots.

Shen Yanbei welcomed this gladly. If the people could learn from him and prosper, it was well. Though he did not feel deep loyalty to this land, he ate the sovereign’s grain, and so he bore the sovereign’s cares. Within his ability, he was willing to give his share of effort.

After instructing the villagers to keep detailed records of crop growth, Shen Yanbei would visit the fields when free, dividing his days between farming and preparing for his wedding.

Yes, he had already requested from Zhao Yu an imperial decree of betrothal. All that remained was for his husband to return to the capital, and then the wedding would be held!

It would be a surprise for his husband, a long-delayed promise finally fulfilled.

In cheerful spirits, Shen Yanbei penned a letter to be sent to Shenjia Village. It had been two years since he had returned, and he wondered how the village fared. With Qingming drawing near, he could not go himself, so he entrusted the village head to watch over his house and offer apologies before his parents’ graves in his stead.

Staring at the fading peach blossoms beyond the window, Shen Yanbei grew momentarily dazed.

Unknowingly, five years had passed since he came to this world…

The first two years, he and his husband had lived in the village, farming and raising ducks, days leisurely and sweet. The following two, he had studied and sat for the examinations, busy but fulfilled. The past year, each had gone to their duties — though often apart, time and distance had only drawn their hearts closer.

By comparison, Shen Yanbei still preferred the former life. When Gu Changfeng had lost his memories, his heart and eyes had been filled with nothing but him. That feeling of being urgently needed by the one he loved had greatly satisfied his vanity as a man.

…But the present was not bad either.

Thinking of the man astride his horse, clad in armor, silver spear in hand, majestic and fierce, Shen Yanbei’s gaze softened.

No matter the form his husband took, all were forms he loved.

Setting down his brush, Shen Yanbei summoned the steward.

He had purchased a three-courtyard residence, now bearing the plaque “Shen Residence.” Unfamiliar with local wedding customs, he had no choice but to hire a steward, both to help prepare for the wedding and to manage household affairs.

When it had only been the two of them, they lived simply. But now, as officials, they could not avoid social obligations. Neither he nor his husband were adept at handling such matters, so they needed the steward’s aid.

The residence had been thoroughly refitted. The courtyard newly landscaped, a training ground laid out. New furniture delivered to the bridal chamber, beddings and curtains replaced with festive crimson. The finest tailors and embroiderers of Yongjing had been commissioned for the wedding robes, which would be ready within half a month…

It seemed nearly all in place.

“Master, you called for me?” the steward asked respectfully.

Though he had heard the title a hundred times, Shen Yanbei still felt unaccustomed. With a cough, he asked, “The items listed for purchase, have you arranged them all?”

“Replying to Master, the red coral and pearls must be shipped from the south and will take some time. The rest shall arrive within two days.”

Shen Yanbei nodded. “You’ve worked hard.”

The steward quickly said, “It is but my duty.”

Shen Yanbei smiled and dismissed him.

As he left, the steward’s doubts only grew.

Whom was his master marrying? What miss, or what young lord? Why such secrecy? There had been no matchmakers visiting, nor hints of any family approached!

He recalled how, since the establishment of Shen Residence, many had sought to probe into Shen Yanbei’s marriage. He only shook his head with a wry smile.

His master was so young, so talented, his future limitless, yet humble and kind. To wed into his household would be great fortune indeed — yet his master’s heart already belonged elsewhere.

But what manner of person was it that had captured his master’s heart?

Shen Yanbei had instructed that all must be ready before the eighteenth day of the fifth month. Perhaps on that day, the steward would finally know.

On Qingming, the weather was unexpectedly fair. With his husband absent, Shen Yanbei went alone to offer incense at the Duke of Zhen’s shrine. The duchess had been placed under house arrest, and the servants of the household were all subdued. With no master present, the gates of the Duke’s residence remained shut. Without provisions prepared, Shen Yanbei personally brought abundant offerings for the late duke.

As days passed, the sun grew harsher, hot dry winds sweeping the land. Cicadas droned incessantly in the groves. When Tongfu Restaurant began buying up cicada pupae in bulk, the fields of wheat, scorched by the hot winds, turned golden overnight.

The villagers of Louxia Village, seeing the rippling golden wheat, rejoiced. The village head quickly sent word to Shen Yanbei. He arrived with several officials in tow.

He took down from Chang’an Street the imperial notice offering a bounty of one hundred thousand taels to any who could devise means of increasing grain yields, and now brought men to confirm.

Staring at the undulating waves of wheat, the officials did not dare be careless. They entered the fields to inspect.

Rice yields in the south had already doubled thanks to Shen Yanbei’s innovations. If wheat, too, could be made to multiply, it would be salvation for countless northern households.

Before the eyes of all, the villagers harvested the wheat swiftly, transporting it to the threshing ground.

Three days later, after court session ended, Shen Yanbei entered the imperial study and presented Emperor Zhao Yu with his compiled records on the cultivation and management of various crops.

The emperor, face habitually stern, was moved as he read. He looked up at Shen Yanbei. “Shen Qing, your learning is boundless. I hold you in deep esteem.”

“Your Majesty overpraises me,” Shen Yanbei replied humbly, though his gaze fixed upon the emperor.

Praise was hollow; what mattered was silver!

Zhao Yu held his gaze for a moment, then said with an unreadable tone, “You are indeed a man of wit. No wonder Qingze speaks so highly of you.” With that, he ordered ten thousand taels of silver from his private treasury bestowed upon Shen Yanbei.

Shen Yanbei cared not for hidden meaning in the words, and left delighted with his silver.

In the sixth year of the Jian Yuan reign, on the eighteenth day of the fifth month, the heir of the Duke of Zhen, Gu Chongxiao, returned triumphant to the capital, bringing with him the barbarian khan Uso and members of his royal house in chains.

Led by the chancellor, the court ministers gathered at the city gates to welcome him. Emperor Zhao Yu granted special favor: the heir of the Duke of Zhen need not dismount but might ride straight into the palace.

This was imperial grace, and the Duke of Zhen’s honor. Gu Changfeng could not refuse. After brief courtesies with the chancellor and others, he was invited to mount the imperial steed and lead his excited soldiers into the city.

All the pomp and protocol made Gu Changfeng’s brows crease, impatience flickering in his eyes.

Of late, his moods had swung wildly. A nameless agitation gnawed at him — whether from weariness of travel or the ceaseless drone of cicadas, he could not say.

The city was festooned with lanterns and banners, joy everywhere. As the army marched in, the people lining the streets erupted in cheers. The noise pressed upon Gu Changfeng’s already sour mood, and his face grew cold.

Tall upon his horse, his expression was grim, his gaze sharp, his bearing commanding. Those who remembered how Gu Qingyao had once mocked and belittled him, leaving him humiliated and silent, now looked on in astonishment.

Was this the same Gu Chongxiao, once bullied by a half-sister and servants alike, unable to resist? No wonder he had captured the barbarian khan alive. If not for the distinctive birthmark at his brow, no one would have believed this powerful, hardened man was that same Gu Chongxiao of old.

Gu Changfeng cared nothing for their stares — whether shocked, awed, or fearful. His eyes scanned the crowd, but finding not the face he sought, his features tightened further.

Forcing down the clamor in his ears, he followed the others into the palace.

…

Striding swiftly into the Golden Luan Hall, suddenly he felt a scorching gaze.

He turned and saw a youth in scarlet court robes, more handsome and upright than ever, smiling at him, eyes bright with joy.

In that instant, the restlessness within him calmed.

Collecting himself, Gu Changfeng stepped forward, bowed low, and said, “Your servant Gu Chongxiao greets Your Majesty.”

“Rise, Gu Qing,” Emperor Zhao said, rewarding the generals with direct words rather than empty courtesies.

One decree after another was proclaimed, among them the long-expected edict granting Gu Changfeng the Duke of Zhen’s title.

“By mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Gu Chongxiao, heir of the Duke of Zhen, whose martial skill is peerless, whose valor in battle unmatched, who has captured the barbarian khan, is truly fit for great responsibility. Henceforth he shall inherit the title of Duke of Zhen, that he may carry on his father’s will, loyal to sovereign and state. So be it!”

The succession had been anticipated; Gu Changfeng showed no surprise. “Your servant accepts the decree, and thanks Your Majesty’s boundless grace.”

The attendant eunuch smiled faintly, then unrolled another decree:

“By mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: Now that Duke of Zhen Gu Chongxiao has reached the age of marriage, it is fitting to find him a worthy match. Scholar-official Shen Yan, yet unwed, is known for his humility and wisdom, a man of gentlemanly virtue, well-suited to the Duke of Zhen. To unite this pair, an imperial marriage is hereby bestowed. As the prosperity of the realm lies in the harmony of its households, may you two be of one heart and mind, loyal to one another and to the country, fulfilling My will. So be it!”

Gu Changfeng froze, staring blankly at the eunuch reading the decree.

Before he could react, Shen Yanbei stepped forth.

With both hands raised high, before the astonished eyes of all the ministers, he declared loudly:

“Your servant Shen Yan accepts the decree, and thanks Your Majesty’s boundless grace!”