The East Wind

Wen Yan glanced at the half-open window beside him, then cupped his hands. "Then I shall make a fool of myself."

"Golden branches twined together, who could laugh at such devotion?

Before her painted reflection, she gathers her hair at the temples.

Before the bright mirror stand lies the fortune of a lifetime,

When her makeup is done, may she let me paint her brows."

Almost without hesitation, he recited a bridal-makeup poem.

"Excellent! 'When her makeup is done, may she let me paint her brows'-what a line! Miss Shen, are you satisfied?"

This was entirely beyond Shen Zhiyun's expectations.

It could hardly have been more different from the ignorant, incompetent good-for-nothing he was rumored to be—the foremost wastrel in the imperial capital.

Shen Zhiyun collected herself and said, "It's no good if I'm satisfied. My Sister Yao has to approve."

Wen Yan good-naturedly cupped his hands again and, within moments, composed two more bridal-makeup poems, drawing a chorus of cheers.

"I must marry Shen Zhiyao today. If three poems aren't enough, I can compose more."

Shen Zhiyun looked back at Zhao Huiluan. Though Zhao Huiluan was smiling, the look she gave Wen Yan had changed considerably.

"Brother Qingyu, you've gone to great lengths to marry your wife today! We never knew you had such talent!"

"Brother Qingyu, you truly are Grand Secretary Wen's grandson! You've made us see you in a whole new light today!"

The door opened, and Shen Zhiyao, her face covered by a bridal veil, came out gracefully with the wedding matron supporting her.

Wen Qingyu stood at the foot of the steps, looking up at her. He held out his hand, utterly reverent.

The wedding music struck up.

Wen Yan rode a tall horse, glancing back at the bridal sedan from time to time. At last, he had married the girl he loved.

Zhao Huiluan and Zhang Yunchi went to the Wen residence afterward for the banquet and ran into Rong An at the entrance.

The three entered the Shen residence together. As a princess, Zhao Huiluan was entitled to a seat of honor. But she had come as a classmate today, so she declined Wen Hong's kind offer and sat at the same table as Rong An, Zhang Yunchi, and the others instead.

Some people clamored to tease the newlyweds in the bridal chamber, crowding around the groom, Wen Yan, and refusing to let the matter drop.

Zhao Huiluan watched Wen Yan deal with the crowd from afar. She leaned toward Rong An and asked him quietly,

"What do you think of Wen Qingyu, sir?"

"He lives up to his name. He is a fine piece of jade."

Zhao Huiluan was surprised by Rong An's eye for character. At first, she had only thought Wen Yan interesting, unlike the rest of the Wen family. It was not until he composed three bridal-makeup poems in one go that she suddenly realized he was no ordinary man.

"What a pity..." Zhao Huiluan sighed wistfully. "Fine jade born in the wrong place."

Rong An disagreed, however, and offered just two words: "Not necessarily."

The few who had clamored to tease the newlyweds returned, their enthusiasm dampened. Zhao Huiluan asked, "Not going to do it anymore?"

Someone shook his head and laughed. "The groom couldn't bear to let the bride get tired, so he sent us away."

Fine, then. Zhao Huiluan pursed her lips. She had wanted to join in the fun.

Seeing that it was getting late, the three returned to the Imperial College together.

The guests gradually dispersed. Wen Nihe had spent the whole day seeing guests in and out, and just as she was about to return to her room to rest, she caught sight of Zhao Huiluan and the other two from behind and stopped.

She did not know what the three were talking about. Zhang Yunchi was waving his arms about, and Zhao Huiluan, heedless of appearances, kicked straight at him. Luckily, Zhang Yunchi ran fast. He then turned to speak to Rong An, as though lodging a complaint.

Wen Nihe could not help looking at that tall, slender figure, composed and graceful in every movement.

She stared fixedly until he vanished from sight.

She had so much she could not let go of. The love that had struck her at first sight, when the top three examination candidates rode through the streets, had been branded on her heart ever since.

But her grandfather was right. She was a daughter of the Wen family; there was no need for her to hang herself from a single vine like an ordinary woman. Rong An was only a top scholar, and what would become of his official career was still uncertain. As a daughter of the Wen family, she was worthy of marrying even a prince or a nobleman.

Her grandfather had said that as long as she agreed, he would find an opportunity to bring her together with the Prince of Jin's heir. She could become the Princess of Jin someday, so why should she waste her life over Rong An?

"To my brother's."

Wen Nihe gave the order to Baizhi, the maid supporting her, and the two headed for Wen Yan's courtyard. They happened to run into Wen Yan leaving the main courtyard.

"Brother? Why are you... Are you going to sleep in the study?"

"I promised your sister-in-law before. She wants to mourn her deceased parents for three years, and I should respect that."

"But tonight is your wedding night. How can she make you sleep in the study?"

Fuming, Wen Nihe tried to barge into the main courtyard, but Wen Yan stopped her.

"Little sister, this is between husband and wife. You needn't meddle."

"You!"

Wen Nihe was furious enough to die. How could she have such a brainless brother?

"I'd say sooner or later she'll have you completely in her grip! When outsiders laugh at you for being afraid of your wife, don't expect me to care!"

Wen Yan ignored Wen Nihe. He turned and saw that the candles in the main courtyard had already gone out, then went to the study on his own.

In the blink of an eye, it was the end of the seventh month.

The weather was too hot, so Zhao Huiluan took her brush, ink, paper, and inkstone to the pavilion.

"Has Your Highness been punished by the vice director with copying books again?"

Zhao Huiluan, writing furiously, had no time to look up. She heaved a heavy sigh. Once she had filled a page, she took a short break. While changing sheets of paper, she glanced at the newcomer, then dipped her brush in ink again.

"Golden branches twined together, who could laugh at such devotion? Before her painted reflection, she gathers her hair at the temples. Before the bright mirror stand lies the fortune of a lifetime, when her makeup is done, may she let me paint her brows." This bridal-makeup poem was written by the author.

(The author's note has been added to the main text. Happy reading~ 2023/10/28)

Chapter 36: The East Wind

"You're newly married. Why aren't you at home keeping Shen Zhiyao company? What are you doing at the Imperial College?"

Zhao Huiluan kept her head down and wrote as Wen Yan sat opposite her and poured two cups of tea.

"I haven't seen my classmates for a long time. I missed them terribly."

"Speak plainly." Zhao Huiluan shot him a sidelong glance. "Did you run into a wall with Shen Zhiyao?"

She wrote several more characters in succession, but the man opposite her did not react at all.

Zhao Huiluan ignored him and carried on writing.

After a long while, Wen Yan finally spoke, slowly.

"Your Highness, have you seen the Guanyin in a temple?"

Zhao Huiluan shot him another sidelong glance.

"Yaoyao is just like a bodhisattva in a temple. No matter how many sweet words I say, she remains lukewarm toward me. We've been married for over a month, and she hasn't spoken more than ten sentences to me."