PM - 41

After several days of continuous rain, the weather on the wedding day turned out to be surprisingly good.

The young emperor's marriage was a national celebration. The entourage delegated to fetch the bride passed through the central avenue of Yucheng at dusk. Red silk and lanterns adorned the houses and taverns along the road, creating an atmosphere of dazzling romance as they traveled in a sea of rosy light.

The emperor had been on the throne for ten years, but only now, with this marriage, was he considered an adult—a feat not easily achieved. Though the lives of the imperial family were far beyond the imagination of commoners, it was still pitiable to think of a child growing up without parents.

Yet, even in matters of marriage, the emperor had no autonomy; the empress-to-be was the adopted daughter of the prime minister, who was now a marquis. If the emperor’s in-laws were to gain even more influence, there would be little difference between them and the royal dukes.

For a 28-year-old unmarried prime minister to marry off his adopted daughter to the young emperor might seem absurd to others, but for the prime minister, all impossibilities became possible. Crowds gathered in the streets to catch a glimpse of the spectacle, though they were kept at bay by the palace guards. From a distance, they could faintly hear the Grand Commandant and the Grand Protector reading the imperial decree for the emperor’s personal reception: “To the Prime Minister Yan, on this auspicious day, we come to escort the bride according to ritual. We send envoys bearing the imperial seal to formally invite her.”

The prime minister, dressed in his official robes, looked every bit the dignified young nobleman. He respectfully bowed and replied, “Your Majesty’s benevolent command has reached even my humble station. I am deeply honored yet fearful, and will humbly follow the ancient rites.”

After much anticipation, the empress finally appeared in the main hall. She wore ceremonial robes, her attire rich with embroidery, symbolizing her status as the most revered woman in the land—her presence commanded respect and awe. Everyone in the bridal procession bowed their heads as the empress stepped onto the red carpet in her golden shoes. Her twelve-tiered phoenix crown and jade pendants softly clinked with each step. Palace maids guided her into the ornate carriage, the grand procession almost rivaling the emperor’s own retinue. As she hesitated before boarding, a senior palace maid gently reassured her, “With the prime minister seeing you off, Your Majesty need not worry about home. Please board the carriage—the emperor awaits you in Deyang Hall.”

Under the dimming sky, the extravagant convoy began its journey. Since the emperor’s wedding ceremony did not call for music, the procession moved in silence, save for the rhythmic clip-clop of hooves and the rumble of wheels blending into a subdued symphony.

“Lady-in-waiting,” the elaborately dressed empress whispered to the accompanying court lady, “do I look alright?”

The lady-in-waiting cautiously observed her. The soft glow of the pearl lamp illuminated the empress’s face. With her perfectly powdered cheeks and delicately painted lips, she was flawless. Smiling, the attendant respectfully bowed and said, “Your Majesty is impeccable. There is nothing to worry about.”

The empress exhaled softly, relieved. “Do you think His Majesty will like me?”

A new bride naturally cared about harmony with her husband. The lady-in-waiting responded firmly, “Of course.”

That was reassuring. The empress tucked her hands neatly into her lap, eager to meet her “husband.” Although the wedding seemed somewhat comical, it was quite an intriguing experience for the young empress. Despite the challenge of pretending to be a woman, when he asked the lady-in-waiting earlier if anything seemed amiss, her eyes held no trace of suspicion. Thus, he knew his disguise was flawless—even those closest to him couldn’t detect any flaws. The elderly ministers, with their dimmed vision, could hardly discern anything under the flickering torchlight.

To emphasize the solemnity of the occasion, the emperor had arranged for the empress’s investiture to take place in Deyang Hall of the Northern Palace. This hall, newly built during Emperor Wen’s reign, was reserved for court assemblies and political deliberations, standing as the most magnificent structure in the entire imperial city. Perched atop a twenty-zhang-high platform, the white marble steps ascended majestically toward the heavens. Standing at the foot of the stairs, the empress gazed upward. The central path, carved with dragons and phoenixes, was reserved exclusively for royalty—even the prime minister dared not tread upon it.

Satisfied, the empress lifted her robes and began her ascent, flanked by attendants who, though distant, could not assist her. The path to the heavens was always a solitary one, something the empress had never understood until now. It dawned on her how arduous the young emperor’s life must be. A girl reaching this point was no small feat, and from now on, their fates would be intertwined. For the first time, he felt a pang of sympathy for the person waiting for him at the top of the platform, who, whether acknowledged or not, was now his wife.

Deyang Hall was vast, almost overwhelming. Following the pre-laid carpet, they entered amidst rows of civil and military officials. The empress walked forward confidently, unafraid of the gazes upon her. At the end stood the young emperor, resplendent in his ceremonial robes, exuding an aura of unapproachable dignity. Under her gaze, he advanced step by step toward her.

Standing before the nuptial banquet table, Fu Wei suppressed a laugh as she looked at the heavily made-up empress, whose features were barely distinguishable beneath layers of cosmetics. Poor soul—what must it feel like for a man to don such cumbersome regalia? Just the weight of the six hairpins alone must have been exhausting. Yet, he managed to control his steps, taking delicate, measured strides to appear suitably graceful. Fortunately, his youthful figure, concealed beneath the elaborate gown, betrayed no flaws. As he approached, she extended her hand to him. Lingjun’s fingertips, lacquered crimson, formed a perfect orchid gesture. Unable to resist, she chuckled softly.

Some officials exchanged puzzled glances, while the empress shot her a reproachful look, whispering, “Must Your Majesty laugh so openly at the sight of your humble servant?”

Fu Wei quickly composed herself and guided him to the position for the investiture. The prime minister, holding the edict, stood facing east and read aloud in a detached tone: “The empress shares equal dignity with the emperor, serving heaven and earth, venerating the ancestral temples, and presiding over the empire. The Central Palace has long awaited its mistress. Lady Nie embodies the grace of rivers and mountains, her majesty radiant and unparalleled. After consulting with officials and divining auspicious omens, it is decreed that she shall bear the insignia of sovereignty and mother the people. Today, Lady Nie is proclaimed empress. May she honor the ancestral rites, maintain reverence in the inner chambers, and uphold the imperial mandate, securing everlasting blessings.”

The empress received the decree and knelt, her voice sweet and demure: “Your humble servant accepts your command, thanking Your Majesty. Long live the emperor, may joy endure forever.”

Fu Wei blinked, perplexed. When had Lingjun’s voice become so delicate? Clearly, this child was versatile—skilled not only in martial arts and medicine but also capable of modulating his voice to perfection when needed.

Following protocol, the Grand Commandant and the Minister of Rites presented the imperial seals. However, given the weight of the six imperial seals, the Head of the Palace and the Chief Eunuch assisted in receiving them on behalf of the empress. After the ceremony, Fu Wei helped him ascend to the nuptial banquet table. The empress performed a deep bow to her, rising only after she returned the gesture. They exchanged cups of wine, then proceeded to the main hall to receive congratulations from the officials. With this, the ceremonies in the outer hall were complete.

Sweat trickled down Fu Wei’s back beneath her voluminous ceremonial robes, warm currents rising from the collar to caress her face. The empress fared worse, weighed down by the heavy jewels adorning her head, which seemed to compress her neck. Fu Wei glanced apologetically at him; the empress remained gentle and forgiving, showing no trace of resentment.

Amidst the chaos, she hadn’t had time to think clearly. Only now did she steal a glance at the prime minister. He had finally married her off—was he satisfied? Though the union resembled a farce, marriage was still a rite of passage. If taken seriously, she was now technically a married woman.

Her heart ached. Had he not spoken those hurtful words, she might still harbor hope for him. But now? She felt lost, as if her life had reached a crossroads. Should she continue steadfastly along her original path, or choose an easier, more advantageous route? She wished he would guide her, but he seemed indifferent, staring fixedly at his feet, oblivious to everything else.

After the congratulatory ceremonies concluded, the officials departed. The prime minister led them in and was the last to leave. She took a few hurried steps and called out, “Father Prime Minister!” He paused momentarily, raising his eyes to meet hers. “It is time to enter the bridal chamber. Do not keep the empress waiting.”

Enter the bridal chamber… She forced a bitter smile, lowering her voice. “Do you truly wish for this, Father Prime Minister?”

The prime minister clenched his fists beneath his wide sleeves, unable to speak.

Who could understand his feelings now? On the surface, everything had gone smoothly—the emperor’s wedding, the lords’ arrival, the empress safe, the young emperor safe, himself safe. By all accounts, it was a perfect conclusion. Yet, he felt sorrowful, as if the sky had collapsed around him, trapping him in a dark, suffocating cage. He couldn’t stretch his limbs or control his thoughts.

The prime minister's thoughts were conflicted. For the greater good and to secure his own advantage, he naturally hoped for the consummation of the marriage between her and Lingjun. If she could conceive soon, all the better—a woman burdened with motherhood would lose much of her ambition to vie for power. Hindered by the physical demands of pregnancy, she would be unable to attend court or meet with officials, leaving the reins of the empire firmly in his hands. Yet, on a personal level, he hesitated. She was still so young, and childbirth carried risks. What if something went wrong? He would then have to expend more effort finding and grooming another heir—something he wasn’t sure he could do again.

He couldn’t linger; he had to leave quickly. “Your Majesty is capable of making your own decisions. There is no need for me to remind you,” he said with a formal bow. “Please proceed to the bridal chamber. I have urgent matters to attend to.”

As he turned to leave, she took a step forward, stopping him. “What urgent matters?”

The prime minister’s expression darkened. “The incident that occurred in the palace a few days ago—I refrained from asking about it, assuming Your Majesty could handle it well. But it seems I was mistaken.”

Fu Wei’s heart tightened. “What exactly are you referring to, Father Prime Minister?”

He turned sideways, frowning at her. “Do you think I am unaware simply because you chose not to tell me? The palace staff handled things decisively when necessary. However, when it comes to those close to you, Your Majesty lacks resolve. This matter is serious, and I urge you not to show undue mercy. You may retire to the bridal chamber; leave the rest to me. There is no need for Your Majesty to act personally.”

She was startled, understanding the implications of his words. She clutched his wide sleeve tightly. “No, I’ve already arranged everything. There’s no need for you to interfere.”

He narrowed his eyes, coldly replying, “Your arrangement relies on insignificant favors. How can such trust outweigh the survival of the realm? I would rather err on the side of caution than regret it later. So say no more, Your Majesty. Today is your wedding night—don’t waste your energy on this trivial matter.”

To him, human lives were trivial. To ensure the stability of the empire, he believed in eliminating all threats. His reasoning was sound, but she found it unbearable.

Only the two of them remained in the vast, chilly hall of Deyang Palace. Trembling, she said, “I’ve never asked anything of you, but this time, please consider my feelings. It’s my fault, my momentary lapse, that led to this situation…”

“So you must reflect. A single mistake by a ruler can cost many innocent lives. After all these years on the throne, have you not yet grasped this?”

She nodded, the strands of beads hanging from her crown swaying urgently. Her face behind the veil betrayed a pleading expression. “I’m sorry. I’ve never learned how to be a proper woman. I’m not sure how many people know about what happened that day, but I’ve dealt with everyone I could…”

“But Your Majesty neglected the one person who most needed dealing with.”

Her hand gripped his wrist through layers of fabric, feeling the chill emanating from him. He tried to pull away, but she held on tighter. “You don’t understand how Shangguan Zhao has treated me, but I do. If I say I’ll handle this myself and ask you not to interfere, you’ll surely object. If you intend to act tonight, then I’ll go find him now. Step over my corpse if you wish to kill him.”

Her words infuriated him, and his eyes reddened. “Have you gone mad?”

She smiled faintly. “Perhaps I have. Tasting blood on the edge of a blade isn’t new to me. Can I remain calm while you plot to kill someone dear to me on my wedding night?”

“Dear to you?” He pointed sharply toward the hall’s exit, his wide sleeve slicing through the air, unable to conceal his anger. “Him? Shangguan Zhao?”

She didn’t respond, only gazed at him with furrowed brows. “Are you jealous? Jealous of Shangguan Zhao but not of Lingjun?”

The prime minister flushed, his gaze terrifying as if he wanted to devour her whole. Straightening herself, she smirked, arms crossed. “My attendant’s fate is mine to decide. If I trust him without reservation, it’s because I have confidence in him.”

The prime minister laughed bitterly, sneering, “Your Majesty’s confidence rests solely on his supposed blind loyalty. Shangguan Zhao’s ulterior motives are clear to me, even if they’re invisible to you.”

Fu Wei paused. She had never considered that Zhao might harbor any feelings for her. Perhaps his words were merely an excuse to eliminate rivals.

Enough. She didn’t want to argue further. Sighing, she said, “If what you say is true, it only proves he won’t betray me easily. Perhaps you’ll accuse me of seducing him with charm. Let me ensnare others if I cannot tempt you; otherwise, wouldn’t I be pitiful?”

Her forced smile angered him further, and he stormed out. Alone in the empty Deyang Hall, Fu Wei felt hollow, as though only her shell remained, struggling to breathe.

Dejected, she returned to Zhangde Hall. Inside the newly decorated bridal chamber, the elaborately adorned empress still waited. The bedchamber was brightly lit by lanterns, and the empress sat regally, smiling as she entered. The thick layer of powder on her face seemed ready to crumble with every expression.

Standing at the foot of the wooden steps, Fu Wei observed the cherry-red lips, then scanned the entire face. With the elaborate hairpiece and ornate headwear, it was truly difficult to discern her gender.

The empress raised an eyebrow. “Am I so beautiful that Your Majesty is entranced?”

She nodded. “The empress looks very different today.”

Delighted, he stood up and pulled her to sit beside him, removing her ceremonial headdress. Leaning closer, he said, “Untie my hair, Your Majesty.”

Men were certainly not skilled at untying hair, so Fu Wei rolled up her sleeves and began removing the heavy ornaments one by one.

“Your Majesty lingered in Deyang Hall earlier—were you speaking with the prime minister?”

Fu Wei hummed in acknowledgment, placing each removed ornament on the lacquered table until it was full. Thinking about their conversation still troubled her. Why did they always end up arguing when alone together? At this rate, they might never connect.

Feeling listless, Lingjun watched her reflection in the distant bronze mirror, silent for a moment before saying, “I’ve ordered Shangguan Zhao to guard the eastern palace tonight.”

Surprised, Fu Wei accidentally tugged too hard, eliciting a yelp. Recovering, she apologized repeatedly, hesitating before asking, “Has the empress heard about that matter?”

Lingjun ran his fingers through his hair, sighing under the weight of the elaborate hairstyle. “Forgive my bluntness, but I also believe he shouldn’t stay. But since Your Majesty is reluctant, we must find a way to handle this tactfully.” Seeing she wished to speak, he raised his sleeve to cover her lips, whispering, “Don’t forget the ritual of binding hair.”

Binding hair symbolized lifelong unity—the final, most intimate step of the wedding ceremony. Lingjun reached out to touch her hair, but she shifted away. Instantly, the young empress’s face fell, her hand hovering mid-air as if on the verge of collapse.

“Your Majesty still…”

She nodded, turning to look outside through the heavy curtains, vaguely seeing the silhouettes of attendants—officials, eunuchs, record-keepers—all present. Even the emperor’s private moments were meticulously documented. Being emperor offered little privacy; even the most intimate acts occurred under watchful eyes.

Helpless, she sighed. “It’s late. Let us retire.”

Lingjun, delighted at the mention of retiring, stepped off the bed platform barefoot, washed off the thick layer of powder, and returned eagerly to help her remove her outer robe. Fu Wei, embarrassed, clutched the collar. “Let’s just pretend—it’s unnecessary to take this too seriously.”

But Lingjun glanced outside. “Won’t we need to report this? Should the record-keeper note discord between the emperor and empress, implying we failed to consummate?”

Caught off guard, Fu Wei lowered her voice. “Lord Nie, this isn’t what we agreed upon.”

Lingjun stared at her blankly. “A wise man adapts to circumstances, does Your Majesty not know this?” He tugged at his inner robe, exposing his chest. “Or perhaps my appearance displeases you, leaving Your Majesty with no interest?”

Though slender and handsome, he lacked the allure to move her. “Lord Nie…”

“Your Majesty should address me as Empress.”

Reluctantly, she conceded. “Empress… Let’s find a way to get through this.”

Thus, they sat facing each other: the young emperor torn between hesitation and obligation, the empress exuding subtle dissatisfaction.

Spring nights were precious, and gender posed no issue—man and woman could fulfill their roles accordingly. Yet, the young emperor refused, leaving the empress at a loss. After much deliberation, she decided to take the lead. Pushing the emperor down, she lifted her pant leg to expose her thighs and gave them a light slap—

Smack…

Satisfied, the empress smiled at the young emperor and continued, slapping several more times—

Smack smack smack… Muffled gasps filled the small chamber. Panting, the empress teased, “Your Majesty, stop dawdling. Come press against me.”

Flustered, the emperor stammered, “How?”

“However you like,” the empress replied casually.

Thus, the emperor awkwardly positioned herself atop him, forming a cross. The empress nearly burst into tears at the absurdity of it. Slapping her reddened thighs, she managed to instruct, “No, vertically!”

They adjusted their positions. Having studied the Fire Avoidance Manual , the emperor quickly applied her knowledge, draping a brocade quilt over her back and pressing the empress beneath her.

The empress’s breathy moans made Fu Wei blush deeply as she hovered above him, awkwardly watching.

This performance required cooperation. Lingjun, after all, was still a young man with limited self-control. The emperor, in fact, was a strikingly beautiful girl. Gradually, he forgot his role, captivated by her deep eyes, crimson lips, and stray strands of hair falling as she gazed down at him. In women’s attire, she would undoubtedly be a peerless beauty!

“Your Majesty,” he murmured, “let’s…”

Fu Wei blinked. “Is it over?”

The empress hesitated, her hands tenderly cupping the emperor’s cheeks. “…Let’s make this fake play real!”