Welcoming the Bride

Two days after Yan returned to the Little Fish River Mouth camp with his fleet, he led fifty ships with a carrying capacity of 100,000 jin each, fifty ships with a carrying capacity of 50,000 jin each, and some small boats upstream along the Fish River towards the Fire Creek River Mouth Outpost.

On the day of departure, the sky was not yet fully bright. A thin layer of morning mist floated on the river, and the torches on the dock appeared soft in the mist. The flames flickered gently in the morning breeze, casting long and short shadows of the people boarding the boats onto the wooden planks. Yan stood at the Chuantou, wearing a brand-new dark gray linen robe. The robe was thick and smooth, with dark-colored stitching on the collar and cuffs. A bronze-buckled leather belt was tied around his waist, with a short knife hanging from it. His gaze was fixed on the river ahead, his fingers resting on the edge of the gunwale, occasionally adjusting his grip with the rocking of the boat.

Accompanying him this time was Dali, Dali specially returned from the Red Flower River Mouth Estuary camp. As Yan's elder, Dali was going with him to the Fire Tribe's main valley to fetch Qingsui back to the Little Fish River Mouth camp for their wedding. He stood beside Yan, wearing a dark blue linen robe, the fabric thicker than usual, with a bronze-buckled leather belt around his waist and animal-hide boots on his feet, the boot tops polished to a dull sheen in the morning light. His face was still ruddy, and he was full of energy. Standing at the bow of the Chuantou, he stood with his hands on his hips, his gaze sweeping across the river. He turned his head to look at Yan and spoke in a loud voice, "Yan'er, you'd better be on your best this time to fetch Qingsui. When I married your aunt, I was so nervous I couldn't sleep all night. But don't let my nervousness fool you, I didn't miss a single thing."

Yan's shoulder twitched slightly as he was patted, a smile spreading across his face, starting from the corners of his mouth and extending to the corners of his eyes. "Uncle Dali, I'm not nervous. It just feels like this journey has gone by faster than ever before. Before I knew it, we were already on the road. We were arranging the fleet yesterday, and we've already set off today."

Dali laughed heartily, his laughter carrying far across the river in the early morning, drawing the attention of several soldiers on a nearby boat who were adjusting ropes. After laughing, he slapped his thigh, his voice filled with a triumphant satisfaction. "That's right! It means you can't wait any longer. Good thing, good thing! I was the same way back then, even though everything was ready, I still felt it was too late. Your mother has already prepared everything, so you can just go back and do it directly. She's arranged everything in the new house, there won't be any problems."

The fleet traveled upstream along the Fish River for six days, passing numerous river mouths and outposts adorned with festive decorations and fluttering red ribbons. After six days of sailing, Yan and his group finally arrived at the Fire Creek River Mouth Outpost. A considerable number of people were already standing on the dock, with Jianya at the forefront. He wore a long, grey linen robe with dark stitching at the collar and cuffs, a hemp rope around his waist, and straw sandals with mud clinging to their edges. Behind him stood dozens of warriors and a group of tribesmen responsible for providing support. Some held wooden tablets, others were tidying ropes along the pier, and still others were peering towards the river. Several red ribbons were tied along the edge of the dock, fluttering gently in the afternoon breeze, a stark contrast to the grey linen clothing of the warriors.

The ship docked, the gangplank was set up, and Yan stepped off. Jianya stepped forward, clasped his hands in a respectful greeting, and said, "Yan'er, it's good that you're here. Did you have a safe journey? Your fleet is very well organized, just as well as when you were transporting grain last time. Brother Dali is here too, perfect, the more the merrier. Your aunt is here too, she's waiting at the camp and said she wants to come and take a look together."

Yan returned the greeting with a fist and palm salute. "Uncle Jianya, the journey was smooth. The fleet encountered no trouble along the way, and all the outposts along the route have been set up. We don't need to make any additional stops on the return trip."

Jianya nodded and said, "That's good. You can rest here for the night. Tomorrow morning I'll send a small boat to take you to the main valley. Chief Daiyue and Qingsui should already be waiting there. I sent someone to deliver a message the day before yesterday saying you would arrive in the next couple of days. They've been preparing ever since they received the message. Just pick them up when you arrive. Your mother also sent word that the new house is all set up and the red cloth is hung up, just waiting for you to return."

Yan nodded. That night, they rested at the Fire Creek River Mouth Outpost. The next morning, they transferred to small boats and headed upstream along the Fire Creek River towards the Fire Tribe's main valley camp dock. The boats traveled upstream along the Fire Creek; the water was shallower, but the current was not swift. The trees on both banks cast long shadows in the morning light, crisscrossing on the water. Yan sat at the Chuantou, while Dali and Jianya sat in the boat behind. The fleet was small, but it moved steadily. After about half a day's journey, the outline of the main valley camp dock appeared ahead.

A number of people were already standing on the dock, with Daiyue at the front. Today he wore a dark blue linen robe with dark stitching on the collar and cuffs, and his hair was neatly combed and held up with a bone hairpin. Behind him stood Fengren and Quyong, followed by several leaders and a group of the Valley Tribe members, all dressed in clean clothes. Fengren stood straighter than usual, as if adding a layer of solemnity to the occasion in his own way; Quyong stood beside him, his hands clasped in front of him, his fingers occasionally twitching before retracting. Next to Daiyue stood Qingsui, who was dressed today... She wore a pale pink linen dress, embroidered with a few Little Flower on the hem. The edges of the petals shimmered slightly in the sunlight, as if freshly washed by dew. Her hair was tied in a braid that fell to her shoulder, the end of which was tied with a thin red string, the end of which swayed gently in the breeze. Her hands were clasped in front of her, her fingers slightly curled, as if using the gesture to steady herself. Her gaze passed over the shoulders of the people in front of her and landed on the small boats that were docking. Her eyes swept from Chuantou to stern, as if trying to identify the person standing at the Chuantou.

The small boat docked, the gangplank was set up, and Yan stepped off. Daiyue stepped forward, clasped his hands in Fengren and Quyong also stepped forward, bowing to Yan and Dali respectively, saying nothing more, but using that gesture to indicate that they were ready. Qingsui stood behind Daiyue. When she saw Yan walking towards her, her gaze first fell on him for a moment, then she lowered her head slightly, the corners of her mouth slightly raised and then lowered again, a faint blush rising at the base of her ears, which was particularly noticeable in the afternoon light.

Yan stopped in front of Daiyue, returned the greeting with clasped hands, and then looked away from Daiyue's face, shifting his gaze to Qingsui before turning back to her. "Then let's set off. The fleet is already waiting at the Fire Creek River Mouth, so we don't need to transfer boats on the way back."

Daiyue nodded and gestured to the people behind him. The Valley Tribe began to move along the plank road towards the fleet. Qingsui followed Daiyue for a few steps. As she passed Yan, her pace slowed slightly, and she glanced at him. Yan also happened to turn his head to look at her, and their eyes met for a fleeting moment before looking away. The end of her braid brushed against his sleeve as she turned, then swayed back behind her with each step.

After a brief chat, the group boarded the boat, and the fleet sailed downstream along the Fish River for three days. During these three days, Yan and Qingsui spent most of their time at the Chuantou. Qingsui sat next to him, sometimes gazing at the scenery on both banks in a daze, and sometimes turning her head to talk to him about the outposts along the way. When she talked about the years before the Valley Tribe, Yan listened and occasionally responded with a word or two.

Three days later, in the afternoon, the fleet finally returned to the Little Fish River Mouth Outpost camp. From afar, Yan could see that the dock was already bustling with activity. The red ribbons were not only tied to the door frames and eaves of the wooden houses, but also to the railings along the river, the dock's pier, and even the masts of the moored ships, swaying gently in the afternoon breeze, as if the entire camp was strung together by those red ribbons. The dock was full of people; Yan's subordinates and the high-ranking leaders of the Fire Tribe had all gathered there. Dabang stood at the front, wearing a dark gray linen robe with a hemp rope tied around his waist, straw sandals on his feet, and a wooden staff in his hand with a red ribbon tied to the top, as if it had been hastily made. Behind him stood Canglan, Wu Xiong, Junfeng, and others, all dressed in their most presentable clothes. On the other side of the dock stood Qingye, her hair wrapped in a cloth, her hands clasped in front of her, her gaze fixed on the sails of the ships that were approaching the shore. When she saw a ship approaching the shore, she leaned forward slightly, then steadied herself.

The boat docked, and the gangplank was set up. Yan and Qingsui stepped off the boat. The crowd on the dock cheered immediately. Some people threw handfuls of grain they had prepared into the air. The grains landed on the deck with a soft rustling sound, while some landed on the water, creating small ripples. Surrounded by everyone, Yan and Qingsui walked towards the open space in the center of the camp. Several long tables had been set up there, covered with clean linen, and set with earthenware bowls, plates, and various foods. A bonfire was lit in the center of the open space. The flames were somewhat dim in the afternoon light, but the heat still spread outwards in gusts of wind.

The wedding ceremony took place around the campfire, without any elaborate formalities. An elder from the tribe stood between the couple, offered a few words of blessing, and then loosely bound their hands together with a red rope. The rope, pre-woven by Qingye, was evenly woven, with a small tassel at the knot. Yan and Qingsui stood facing each other, their gazes briefly meeting in the crowd before returning to their own. Qingsui's fingers were slightly cool; she slightly withdrew her hand when it touched Yan's. The surrounding people cheered. Some came forward with bowls of wine to offer toasts, some patted Yan's shoulder and whispered something, and some nodded to Qingsui. Qingsui was escorted by several women from the Valley Tribe to Yan's room to rest and wait, while Yan stayed outside to eat and drink with everyone.

At dinner, Yan stood up, holding a bowl of wine, and raised it to each of the leaders and warriors present. His voice wasn't loud, but it was clear enough for everyone around him to hear. "Today is a special day for Qingsui and me. Thank you all for coming. This bowl of wine is for you." He then tilted his head back and drank it all in one gulp. The rim of the bowl paused at his lips for a moment before he lowered it, the wine sliding down his throat with a slightly spicy kick. Everyone else also raised their bowls, the wine swirling in them, reflecting the light of the campfire. Yan returned the toast one by one, from Dabang to Canglan, from Wu Xiong to Junfeng, from Dali to Jianya. He clinked the bowls together with each one, a few drops of wine splashing onto the rim and leaving Dabang, damp stains on the table. After Dabang finished his drink, Bang patted him on the shoulder, the force not light but carrying a reassuring sense of confirmation; Wu Xiong nodded at him, his fingers lingering on the rim of the bowl; Junfeng, standing at the back of the crowd, raised his bowl towards him, then lowered it. Jianya walked over with his bowl, tapping it against Yan's, the rim making a crisp sound, and spoke with the gentle warmth of an elder, "Yan'er, live a good life from now on. Qingsui is a good girl." Yan nodded and finished his drink. Some patted him on the shoulder after he finished, some nodded, and some simply raised their bowls and put them down.

After a few rounds of drinks, everyone started to tease him, and someone laughed and shouted, "It's time to go to the bridal chamber!" Yan put down his bowl, cupped his hands in greeting to everyone, and was then led into the room amidst laughter and shoving. As he left, someone behind him shouted, "Don't get up too early tomorrow," but the voice was carried by the wind and then drowned out by the laughter behind him.

An oil lamp burned in the room, casting a warm yellow glow on the walls. Qingsui sat on the edge of the bed, still wearing her pale red linen dress. Her braids were undone, and her hair cascaded over her shoulders, gleaming softly in the lamplight. She held the red string in her hand; the knot had been untied, and the tassels lay scattered in her palm like a small tuft of red grass. Hearing the door open, she looked up and saw Yan. Her gaze lingered on his face for a moment, and a slow smile spread across her lips, as if waiting for him to speak next.

Yan walked over and sat down next to her. The bed was soft, and the mattress made a slight squeaking sound as he sat down. Then he spoke, his voice low, as if he were talking about something he had been keeping in his heart for a long time. "Are you tired? It's been three days of travel."

Qingsui shook her head slightly, her fingers pausing on the red string in her palm. "Not tired. It's just that this road is shorter than I thought. We've arrived before we've even walked that far." As she spoke, her gaze fell on her fingers, paused for a moment, then lifted it, lingered on his face for a second, and then looked away.

Yan smiled, the smile slowly spreading from the corners of his mouth to the corners of his eyes, "I also think it's short, but the road ahead is long, let's take it one step at a time."

Qingsui didn't speak again. She turned her head to look at him, her gaze lingering on his face for a moment. Then she wrapped the red string in her hand around their fingers, once, then again, finally tying a loose knot. The knot was loose, as if deliberately leaving room for their fingers to slip out. Then she picked up the two ceramic bowls on the low table beside the bed, handing one to Yan and holding the other herself. The bowls were filled with wine. The two crossed their arms, each bringing the rim of the bowl to their lips. The wine slid down their throats, carrying a hint of sweetness, a hint of spiciness, and a hint of warmth. When Yan put down the bowl, his fingers were still wrapped in the red string with Qingsui's fingers, the knot loosely resting between their knuckles, like a section of road not yet completed being temporarily gathered in their palms.

The flame of the oil lamp flickered slightly in the night breeze, then steadied itself. In the distance, sporadic cheers and the clinking of bowls echoed from outside the window. The sounds carried across several rows of wooden houses, like whispered conversations in the distance; the words were indistinct, but the lively atmosphere seemed to continue. Yan placed the bowl on the low table beside the bed, adjusted the flame of the oil lamp, and then took Qingsui's hand in his. Her hand was smaller than his, her fingers slightly cool, as if she hadn't fully warmed up after being outside for a while. Holding her hand, he felt as if he were using his body heat to gradually bridge the distance between them.

Qingsui didn't pull her hand away; she merely tightened her fingers slightly, clasping his palm. Then she rested her head on his shoulder, her forehead against the fabric of his shirt, as if finding a long-abandoned spot there. The light from the oil lamp cast their shadows on the wall, overlapping like a slowly elongating arc. The soft rustling of the wind through the red ribbons outside the window mingled with the gradually quieting voices from the camp in the distance.

Yan lowered his head and gently touched Qingsui's forehead, then reached out and blew out the oil lamp. The room darkened, with only the moonlight streaming in from the window casting a thin, silvery-white band on the floor. The mattress creaked slightly as he lay down, and Qingsui followed, her breathing unusually clear in the quiet room. Neither of them spoke, simply lying side by side, listening to the gradually quieting sounds outside and the distant, flowing river. The night breeze seeped in through the cracks in the window, carrying the coolness of early spring and the damp scent of turned earth, causing the end of the red rope on the table to sway gently in the moonlight.