Chapter Eighteen: The Wedding Day Arrives, Guests Gather!

Over the past few days, Han Fu had enjoyed a rare leisure. He spent his time reading and practicing martial arts, just as he always did.

But the servants of the Zhou household were anything but idle. Even though this wedding was not to be a lavish affair, the niece of the Duke of Pei marrying was an event unlike any other, regardless of how modest the arrangements. Under Zhou Dong’s direction, the servants bustled about, stringing up lanterns and draping the halls in festive colors. The usually solemn Zhou residence was soon transformed, brimming with joy and celebration.

Ever since receiving a letter from home two days prior, Zhou Dong’s worries had vanished, thanks to Baili Mingda’s divination. His face hadn’t been without a smile since. Knowing Young Master Baili as he did, when the augury spoke of his mother having only three days to live, it truly meant she was good for at least another ten years. Coupled with today’s wedding, Zhou Dong felt doubly blessed. He was determined to bask in this happiness before returning home—perhaps his mother might even gain another five years.

Lady Wang of the Zhou family, upon learning of this, urged Zhou Dong to return as soon as possible, lest some misfortune delay him and leave him with regrets. But Zhou Dong shook his head resolutely and declared, “I trust Young Master Baili.”

Upon hearing this, Baili Mingda was so vexed that he didn’t open a book for the entire afternoon.

Now, just after midday, Han Fu sat in his room clad in a bright red wedding robe. It was not convenient to practice martial arts dressed thus, so he contented himself with reading, awaiting dusk and the time to fetch his bride. Aunt Song’s craft was exceptional; the robe fit perfectly and needed no alteration.

Han Fu was not surprised by the custom of fetching the bride at dusk; even in his previous life’s ancient times, it was much the same. The notion that fetching the bride in the morning signified a first marriage, while the afternoon was for remarriage, only arose in the postmodern era. The dusk hour was chosen for auspicious reasons: in the ancient understanding of yin and yang, women embodied yin and men yang. Dusk marked the meeting of yin and yang, making it an especially propitious time for a bride to join her groom’s household.

Although Han Fu was to be a son-in-law entering his wife’s family—a case of yang entering yin—since Baili Mingsu had already moved out, it still fell to him to fetch her, making the ritual essentially the same.

Baili Mingda had disappeared somewhere, leaving Han Fu to enjoy the peace. Since learning of Baili Mingda’s peculiar “reverse divination bug,” Han Fu had grown all the more cautious. He had already read the “Records of Omen Lands” at least three times, yet still pored over it, intent on committing the geography and rivers of the Xu Dynasty to memory. With such a quirk of fate at play, he could not afford to be careless.

Another hour and a half passed. Han Fu remained absorbed in his book, but the sounds of merriment from outside grew louder. The niece of the Duke of Pei was to marry, with the Emperor’s blessing. Even though Zhou Xinyi had not made a grand spectacle of it, the stream of guests bringing gifts was unending.

Of course, most were servants delivering gifts on behalf of their masters, departing as soon as their task was done.

Only those closely allied with the Zhou family would come in person or send a son or nephew to pay respects. So, while the front hall of the Zhou residence was lively, few actually sat as guests.

“Ha ha… Brother Zhou, to have such a gifted son-in-law truly makes me envious.”

“Brother Li, your presence brings honor to our humble home.”

“If the Duke of Pei’s mansion is humble, then my house must be a chicken coop!”

Laughter filled the air as Zhou Xinyi greeted his peers, all fellow officials of similar rank. The juniors from visiting families were received by Zhou Yuanshan, the eldest Zhou son, and his younger brother, Zhou Yuantou. The entire Zhou household radiated happiness.

Even Qin Ping, who had once squared off on the dueling stage, made no mention of past grievances, as if it had all been forgotten or never happened.

The younger generation, however, were not so magnanimous, their pride and lack of subtlety making them restless. In one corner, a few were quietly discussing Han Fu.

“Brother Zhou, during that recent contest, it was clear to all the noble families what the Zhou and Qin clans were after. Now this marriage between your families has fallen through, all because of Han Fu. Can you really swallow your pride over this?”

Zhou Yuanshan, though he did not think highly of Han Fu, was no fool. Besides, Han Fu’s talents made him a worthy match for his cousin, and the family was lucky for it—even if he had agreed to enter the family rather too eagerly for Zhou Yuanshan’s taste. On such an important day, any trouble would bring shame to the Zhou household.

“So what?” Zhou Yuanshan snorted. “Brother Zhang, just enjoy the festivities today and don’t stir up trouble.”

“Of course not…” Zhang Quanshan forced a laugh. “How could I make trouble on such a joyful day?”

“Glad to hear it,” Zhou Yuanshan replied, indifferent.

Steward Zhou Hai stood at the gate recording gifts, while Zhou Dong and the others bustled about the courtyard. The guests were seated at their tables, laughter and cheer in the air—everything unfolding in perfect order.

After a while, Zhou Dong checked the time, set aside his tasks, and hurried to the rear courtyard.

“Young master, the auspicious hour has arrived—it’s time to fetch the bride,” he called at Han Fu’s door.

“Very well,” Han Fu replied, closing the “Records of Omen Lands.” He rose, dusted off his robe, and stepped out. “Let’s go.”

Soon, the wedding procession set out from the Zhou residence, following the planned route to the family’s separate estate.

Han Fu didn’t know how to ride, but necessity forced him into the saddle. Considerate as always, Zhou Dong had found him a gentle little mare the previous day, whose gait was smooth and steady.

The crowds along the way grew ever larger, showering him with congratulations as he passed.

The Zhou family did not stint on generosity. Members of the wedding party distributed lucky coins, prepared in advance, to the well-wishers lining the streets. The amounts were modest, but the gesture was festive. Even beggars who offered a kind word received a few copper coins.

With music and laughter, the procession was truly a spectacle.

While the festivities delighted the adults, Zhou Qing was thoroughly bored. Everyone in the Zhou household was busy greeting guests in the front courtyard, and even his mother was off chatting with visiting ladies. He was left to the care of his nursemaid, idly playing in the family’s private courtyard.

He was already drawn by the excitement outside, but his nursemaid kept too close a watch for him to slip away. The little fellow grew increasingly anxious, making several failed attempts to sneak out, but never lost hope.

Just then, the nursemaid’s face suddenly twisted in pain as she clutched her stomach.

“Oh no…”

A woman’s intuition told her this was not a stomach ache, but her monthly cycle beginning. Su Guifen, the nursemaid, panicked—what was she to do? If she left, the little master would surely run off, but she could already feel the uncomfortable dampness below.

Unable to bear it, Su Guifen hurried over, knelt before Zhou Qing, and instructed, “Young master, play here by yourself for a while. I’ll be right back. There are many strangers outside—quite scary—so don’t you dare run out…”

She even tried to frighten him as she left, but in her rush didn’t notice how Zhou Qing’s eyes lit up at the words, “There are many strangers outside.”

As soon as Su Guifen was out of sight, Zhou Qing wasted no time. He dashed out on his stubby little legs without a backward glance.

He reached the front courtyard, where people milled about in small groups. Busy as things were, and with Zhou Qing so small, no one noticed him at first.

After a while, a friendly official who knew the Zhou family spotted him and smiled, “Isn’t this the young master of the Zhou family? Why are you playing alone?”

Zhou Qing stopped and tilted his head, examining the man. The man smiled back, preparing to tease the boy, but his expression froze when Zhou Qing spat at him.

“Pah…”