When the snow-white warhorse stopped at the entrance to the hall, three Ministry of Rites officials rushed forward.
"Your Highness, you cannot ride a horse into the hall. Please..."
Batuer stepped out from behind the horse and planted her imposing, six-foot frame in front of the three men.
The officials' words caught in their throats, and they took two steps back.
Murong Xue swung herself down from the saddle, throwing a leg over the horse's back as deftly as if she were vaulting a wall. The hem of her red wedding dress traced an arc through the air.
When she landed, her boot soles struck the stone steps with a crisp clack.
Not embroidered slippers, but riding boots.
The Ministry of Rites official's face turned green.
Murong Xue strode toward the hall, casting the three officials a glance as she passed.
"Move."
The three moved.
When she entered the Hall of Heavenly Favor, she wore no bridal veil over her head.
Strictly speaking, she did have one, but she had altered it into an armored face guard. Red silk covered half her face, leaving only her eyes exposed.
Her jade-green eyes moved behind the silk, sweeping over the entire hall.
Then they settled on Gu Moran.
The more than a hundred people present fell silent.
The Northern Territory princess's beauty was nothing like that of the women of the Central Plains.
Her long, silver-white hair flowed loose over her red wedding dress. It was neither tied back nor arranged in a bun, but simply draped over her shoulders, dazzling in the sunlight streaming through the hall entrance.
The hilt of the curved saber at her waist was wrapped in red cord, the only thing about it that had anything to do with the wedding.
She walked to the place of honor and stopped.
At the same time, the Northern Territory drummers outside the hall were still playing. Their beats poured through the entrance and clashed with the Huaxia ceremonial music inside, making a complete jumble.
The master of ceremonies called for silence three times, but still couldn't drown them out.
Standing before Gu Moran, Murong Xue spoke from behind her face guard.
Her official speech carried a Northern Territory accent, her rolled consonants a hundred and eight thousand miles from the pronunciation of the capital.
"On our grasslands, we fight before we marry."
She rested her hand on the hilt of her saber.
"You. Do you dare?"
The atmosphere in the hall instantly tightened.
Among the military officers, some put their hands on their swords, while some of the civil officials shrank back.
Gu Moran looked at the green eyes behind her face guard.
He took a step back.
Then he did something no one had expected.
He raised his right hand, made a fist, and pressed it against the left side of his chest with his knuckles facing down, while bending slightly at the waist.
The Northern Territory warrior's salute.
On the grasslands, it meant, "I acknowledge your strength, and ask you to look upon my sincerity."
Only those who had dealt with the Northern Territory knew the salute.
And he performed it perfectly: the position of his fist, the angle of his bow, even the length of his pause was right.
A flicker passed through Murong Xue's green eyes.
Her fingers loosened on the saber hilt.
"Where did you learn that?"
"From a book."
"What book?"
"Records of the Northern Frontier, volume three, the chapter on etiquette, page seventeen."
Murong Xue stared at him, her expression hidden behind her face guard.
Two breaths passed in silence.
"You Central Plains people only know how to read books."
Her hand dropped away from the saber hilt altogether.
"We won't fight today. It's inconvenient to fight in a wedding dress. We'll do it another day."
Everyone in the hall breathed a sigh of relief at once.
The wedding ceremony began.
For the first bow, to heaven and earth, Murong Xue bent at the waist as stiffly as if she were turning a screw.
For the second bow, to their elders, she looked at Noble Consort Chen for three seconds before bending down, her green eyes circling the consort's face twice in that time.
Husband and wife bowed to each other.
Halfway through her bow, she suddenly straightened and leaned close to Gu Moran's ear.
"That damn warrior's salute of yours wasn't bad."
The corners of her mouth curved behind her face guard.
"But on the grasslands, if a man who gives the warrior's salute can't beat the woman facing him, he gets tied to a horse's tail and dragged around three times."
Gu Moran grinned.
"Your Highness, could you not say things like that during the ceremony?"
"Why?"
"It's nothing. Mostly, that censor over there is about to faint. Look at his face."
Murong Xue turned to look at Lord Chen of the Censorate.
Sure enough, Lord Chen's face was as white as rice paper.
Murong Xue gave a snort of laughter.
They completed their bow to each other.
She withdrew to the brides' places, pausing as she passed Su Yao and Shen Ling'er.
She sized up Su Yao for two seconds, then Shen Ling'er for another two.
Su Yao kept her eyes straight ahead.
Shen Ling'er waved at her, smiling like a flower in bloom.
Murong Xue's green eyes lingered on Shen Ling'er's face for an extra moment before she looked away and walked over to stand in her place.
The system displayed a readout.
[Murong Xue's current favorability: -40. Emotional state: surprise generated. The warrior's salute has triggered a faint response on the level of cultural identification, but her overall assessment remains "weakling from the Central Plains."]
Gu Moran looked away after reading it.
He had dug the warrior's salute out of the system database overnight. As long as it worked, that was enough; he'd gotten his foot in the door.
The echoes of the Northern Territory war drums still hung in the air of the hall.
The master of ceremonies unfolded the register for the fourth time, his hands trembling.
"Welcome the fourth bride-Liu Ruyan of Prince Yi's Residence-into the hall-"
This time, the atmosphere in the hall was different from the previous three.
When the first three brides entered, the guests had looked surprised or tense.
For this one, their expressions were complicated.
The prime minister's legitimate daughter, the imperial physician's granddaughter, the Northern Territory princess-though each of those identities was remarkable in its own way, none was beyond the pale.
A courtesan queen marrying into the imperial family was beyond the pale.
Some whispered to one another, some frowned, and some sneered.
The leading courtesan of the capital's largest pleasure house becoming a prince's consort was something without precedent in all the histories of the Great Yan Dynasty.
Footsteps came from the entrance to the hall.
Neither hurried nor slow, each step firm.
Liu Ruyan entered.
Her bridal procession had set out from the Third Prince's Residence, Prince Yi's Residence.
Not the Flower-Between Pavilion.
Everyone noticed this detail the moment she entered the hall, because the guide sign held at the front of the procession bore the words "Prince Yi's Residence."
Someone had replaced the name "Flower-Between Pavilion" that should have been there.
The lower-ranking officials didn't understand the significance.
But the middle- and high-ranking officials all saw it.
Setting out for the wedding from her husband's residence meant that this woman had already been welcomed into the household before the marriage.
That was the treatment given to a principal wife's natal family, not to a concubine.
The whispers grew a little louder.
Liu Ruyan either didn't hear them or didn't care if she did.
Her makeup was very light; from a distance, she didn't look like a courtesan queen.
There were no heavy layers of rouge and powder, no heaps of pearl and jade hair ornaments.
Just a thin layer of foundation, a touch of pale red on her lips, and her hair arranged in a simple bun with a plain silver hairpin.
In her wedding dress, she looked dignified rather than dazzling.
She walked to the place of honor and stopped.
The master of ceremonies began reciting the ceremonial words.
This time, no one cut in, no one drew a saber, and no one bounced around.
First, a bow to heaven and earth.
Second, a bow to their elders.
Noble Consort Chen's gaze lingered on her face for two extra breaths. She held back her tears, then nodded with a smile.
Husband and wife bowed to each other.
As Liu Ruyan bent at the waist, her gaze swept over the floor tiles from beneath her bridal veil.
The gold bricks of the Hall of Heavenly Favor had been polished to such a shine that they reflected people's figures.
She saw her own reflection.
A red wedding dress, a silver hairpin in a simple bun.
Behind her, an attendant had already set the guide sign in the corner of the hall.
It read "Third Prince's Residence."
Not the Flower-Between Pavilion.
Her eyelashes fluttered.
The bow was completed.
She straightened without a word.
She quietly withdrew to the brides' places and stood with the three before her.
Gu Moran watched her back as she withdrew.
The system readout had already appeared.
[Liu Ruyan's current favorability: -22, up 8 points since the marriage decree was issued. Emotional state: the change of departure location has caused an emotional fluctuation. The "respected" tag has been activated for the first time, but trust remains extremely low.]
Up eight points.
He counted it up in his head: Su Yao hadn't moved, Shen Ling'er had risen two points, Murong Xue hadn't moved, and Liu Ruyan had risen eight points.
Liu Ruyan had yielded the greatest return so far.
Because what she wanted was the simplest thing, and also the hardest to give.
Not power, not gold or silver, just to be treated like a person.
The brief quiet in the hall was shattered by a tremendous bang.
It came from outside.
Everyone turned toward the entrance.
Outside the hall, a bright red bridal sedan stood crookedly at the foot of the steps.
There was a hole in its wall.
A hole the size of a fist.
The sedan bearers stood beside it, every one of them shrinking into his shoulders, their faces deathly pale.
The matron in charge rushed up from beside the sedan, sweat pouring down her face.
"Your Highness, Miss Lin... she kicked a hole in the sedan wall..."