Chapter 2 – Husband.

This scene felt strangely familiar to Lan Yunjin.

She wasn’t afraid her elder sister might regret the swap. Even if her sister came to confess, their mother would never believe her.

Once an arrow is loosed, it cannot be taken back. Her sister understood that even better than she did. The matter was already settled; if they were to switch back now, it would only panic their mother, and if word reached Grandmother, the consequences would spiral out of control.

Lan Yunjin felt perfectly at ease, though her mother might not be willing to let her elder sister into the room.

Even after decades, she still remembered when she herself was married off—how her mother had repeatedly warned her not to see her sister that day.

She had sat in her boudoir thinking, “Just endure it.” Once her sister came back for the first visit home after the wedding, they would have plenty of time to talk.

The old Daoist fortune-teller had made it sound very serious, but the more they told her not to do something, the more her heart itched. She had refused to believe in such taboos. On such an important day, it was one thing not to send her sister off in person, but not even to see her?

Thinking back now, she had truly been young and brash then—full of nerve. Once she was dressed, she had dragged her close maid, Guiyuan, to knock on her sister’s door.

Lan Yunjin’s thoughts drifted.

Madam Yang ignored the maid waiting outside and quietly asked, “Your younger sister came to your room in the middle of the night. What did she say?”

Lan Yunjin froze for a moment, guessing that the courtyard maid must have told her mother.

She showed the weary, helpless smile that Yunying often wore. “Doesn’t Mother already know my sister’s temper? She was complaining that you put too much faith in the fortune-teller’s words, and she felt wronged.”

Madam Yang smiled ruefully as well. Yunjin had been grumbling about this matter since the New Year.

“Nini, do you blame me?” Madam Yang rose, intending to go see her younger daughter.

Lan Yunjin shook her head. “You’re doing it for our sake. Avoiding bad luck is a good thing. If we knowingly break the rule and bring misfortune on the household, then that would be far harder to fix.”

She wanted nothing more than to hold her mother.

In her previous life, her mother had passed away peacefully yet had never stopped mourning her elder sister’s death.

Now, she had the chance to save her sister and see her mother healthy once more. Even if the King of Hell himself demanded she descend to the underworld tomorrow to drink Meng Po’s soup, she would count it as a blessing.

She had lived long enough. More than enough.

The strange excitement of last night had already faded into calm after she and her sister exchanged identities.

Perhaps it was the weariness setting in, but Lan Yunjin’s body felt limp, her head swimming, a thousand thoughts drifting like wisps of smoke.

Maybe Heaven had sent her back before her next life to mend her regrets.

Her mother, Madam Yang’s embrace, was warm. Lan Yunjin held her breath, tears brimming.

When people grow old, their tears come more easily. Madam Yang quietly brushed the corner of her eyes and said, “Nini, your aunt is in Chang’an. Once you’re married, if there’s nothing pressing at home, go visit her more often.”

Mother and daughter exchanged a smile.

True to her word, Madam Yang did not let Yunying from outside come in. She patiently coaxed her daughter back to her boudoir.

With the hour of the bride’s departure drawing ever closer, Tinglan Pavilion was alive with an indescribable bustle. The masters of the household followed family tradition, offering the two sisters auspicious words and blessings.

A young boy, having finished his sugared pastries, now wore a ring of crumbs around his mouth. He and Lan Qi-niang both stared in bemusement.

They had only snuck out to eat a few pieces of candy, so why did it suddenly feel like there was no space left to stand in the courtyard?

Playful as always, Qi-niang grabbed the boy and hauled him upstairs for a better view.

“Is that Fourth Sister?” she asked.

“Of course it is.” The boy lifted his chin, eyes wide and round, watching her every move with great effort.

Qi-niang murmured, “Her wedding robe is beautiful.”

The Lan household had female tutors to teach the daughters. Qi-niang was diligent in her studies—her poetry and prose far surpassed other girls her age.

Even so, at this moment, the only word she could summon for Fourth Sister was “beautiful.”

“Why isn’t the groom here to fetch her?” the boy asked curiously, craning his neck. He had noticed that the man arriving to collect her was not the Wei General their mother had mentioned.

He sighed in disappointment.

He had never seen a great military commander before and had been looking forward to catching a glimpse of a hero today.

Qi-niang smacked him lightly on the head. “Fool. Fourth Brother-in-law’s manor is in Chang’an. He can’t meet her until the bridal sedan reaches the city gates.”

The elders had no time to fuss over children.

The general’s household nanny, Momo Zhou, wore a beaming smile as she bowed and invited the bride to step out and board the sedan.

Chang’an’s fine climate was reflected in her face—full and round like the moon.

From Momo Zhou’s graceful manners alone, Madam Yang couldn’t stop smiling. That blessed-looking face said enough: the general’s mother must be a kind and generous mistress, one who treated her servants well. As their daughter-in-law, her own child would likely not have to endure much grievance.

Lan Yunjin knew the wedding process well, so everything went smoothly.

Crowds had gathered outside the gates to watch, but the Lan family guards kept them at a respectful distance.

The sedan bearers stopped to rest every two hours, and by sunset they had reached the inn.

The Deputy General’s manor had made arrangements in advance to reserve every inn along the way, so no outsiders could lodge there during the journey.

Lan Yunjin kept her face hidden behind a round fan² as Momo Zhou led her to a side room.

“Madam, this old servant will wait outside your door tonight. We’ll depart tomorrow at the third quarter of the Yin hour. With luck, we’ll reach Chang’an within half a month.” Momo Zhou’s voice was naturally loud, but she lowered it as much as she could so as not to disturb the bride’s mood.

In Northern Zhao, wedding customs varied from place to place. Fortunately, Chang’an and Luoyang were not so different. For brides marrying far away, it was customary for the groom not to fetch them in person. With a hundred li⁴ to travel, it would be improper for the couple to spend the night together before the wedding rites were complete.

After a full day in the sedan, Lan Yunjin was tired. She accepted the jujube-seed tea⁵ Momo Zhou had prepared and said politely, “I trouble you, Nanny.”

Momo Zhou smiled. “Once you’ve had your tea, I’ll call the maids to help you wash and rest.”

But Lan Yunjin’s two dowry maids, Yuchan and Pipa, quickly stepped forward to take over. “No need to trouble Nanny. We’ll serve our lady. Your girls have walked enough for one day, so let them rest so we can set out early tomorrow.”

How could Momo Zhou refuse? She went on to smooth the bed with thoughtful care, then asked for the names of the two maids. When she heard “Yuchan” and “Pipa,” she repeated them softly; they were pleasant and melodic to pronounce.

Inwardly, she sighed. A daughter raised in a family of rank and scholars truly was different from the rest. Her bearing and manner of speech marked her as a lady among girls. Momo Zhou thought to herself: when the old madam and the mistress of the general’s household see her, who knows how many sets of gold bangles and ornaments they will gift their new daughter-in-law?

The spring night was faintly cool. Dew settled over the inn, and the white shadow of the slim crescent moon seeped into the papered windows.

Momo Zhou shut the door firmly. Inside, Yuchan blew out the candle.

Lan Yunjin lay in her gauze robe, eyes closed, ready to sleep.

Now that she had left the Lan household, the only people who truly knew her sister’s situation were Yuchan and Pipa.

Yuchan had noticed nothing, but Lan Yunjin did not dare lower her guard, as those same villains who had murdered her sister in her last life might very well appear tonight.

She had thought it over again and again: if disaster could not be avoided, so be it. Her regrets were already resolved; she would walk this road in her sister’s place.

She had always loathed blind marriages. Life in the inner courtyard was all about tending to a husband, raising children, managing household affairs, etc. In youth, one had to win the favor of a mother-in-law; after enduring her and a husband to old age, one still had to raise the next generation on their behalf.

May Heaven spare her such “blessings of hard work.”

Lan Yunjin turned over, feeling the bitter drag of hours that stretched like years. She did not know when the bandits would come, so she could not warn Yuchan of the mortal danger that might soon fall upon them.

…

The crescent moon slowly rounded. Momo Zhou, who kept an almanac³ close to her, tore off a page each morning.

At last they were near Chang’an. Momo Zhou could hardly keep from announcing the good news with drum and gong.

Lan Yunjin’s emotions had surged and ebbed, yet in the twelve days of travel, nothing suspicious had happened.

She began to dread the possibility that she really had to stand before the altar with Wei Xiao, a man young enough to be her grandson.

Sunlight blazed against the beaded curtain of her sedan. The bearers halted.

Lan Yunjin leaned toward the carved window panel, hearing the crack of firecrackers and the deafening blare of suona horns.

Momo Zhou told her that today, Wei Xiao would meet them at the city gates to escort them to the general’s residence.

Moments later, the sedan was lifted again, swaying gently forward.

She could see nothing outside. She felt like a seed tossed into a pot of soil, moved wherever they pleased, with no knowledge of where she might be set down.

Still, Wei Xiao must not have been summoned by the King of Hell after all.

The procession entered Chang’an slowly. The people knew this was the day General Wei took a bride. They feared the man and kept their distance, only daring to watch from afar.

—

At the General’s residence—

Momo Zhou lifted the curtain, and Lan Yunjin stepped down with a faint heaviness in her heart.

A pair of hands entered her view, which were scarred with calluses from sword work.

They were Wei Xiao’s hands.

After more than twenty years of widowhood, half a lifetime without touching a man, Lan Yunjin felt an unaccountable shyness.

She could not die nor run, so she would have to face this head-on.

A military wedding required no endless, fussy formalities.

The customs of the Wei clan of Hedong differed from those of Luoyang. The rituals, such as the crossing of the saddle and the washing of hands, were explained by Momo Zhou and the General’s senior maidservant in detail, and Lan Yunjin performed them accordingly.

With the round fan between them, the bride and groom could not clearly see each other’s faces.

From the courtyard to the main hall for the bowing ceremony, Lan Yunjin stole glances at Wei Xiao from the corner of her eye.

There was no doubt—he was well-proportioned. His arms were hard and powerful; when he took hold of the red silk cord, he nearly snapped it.

No wonder Momo Zhou had praised him so incessantly on the road, recounting his great military exploits, how he had slain enemies on the battlefield at the age of thirteen, and how he had spent little time in Chang’an since, accustomed to a soldier’s roaming life and unrestrained manner.

Lan Yunjin’s lips curved faintly—unrestrained? That was putting it lightly.

Momo Zhou had been preparing her, warning that a man of arms could not be compared to a man of letters; he would not be adept at the small domestic courtesies, nor would he have the refinement or wit of a scholar.

Not that it mattered. Whether refined or rough, it had nothing whatsoever to do with her, an old woman in her own eyes.

“Send the bride to the wedding chamber!” Momo Zhou declared joyfully.

Lan Yunjin’s stomach was in knots. She had no wish to face the wedding night.

The General’s household was large and prosperous. Wei Xiao’s grandparents were still alive, and for this marriage, they had refurbished his courtyard and added more maids to his service.

The hall was boisterous with guests. The younger generation laughed and crowded around their new sister-in-law, asking for wedding sweets. Wei Xiao’s brothers and sisters, meanwhile, stared at Lan Yunjin without blinking.

At last, the General’s family had the good fortune to marry a lady from a noble clan.

Madam Zhang, Wei Xiao’s mother, was especially pleased. She stayed in the bridal room to keep her new daughter-in-law company, sending the younger ones to help Wei Xiao manage the wine toasts.

“Good child, it must have been tiring to travel so far,” Madam Zhang said. Her features bore something of a bodhisattva’s calm; with light rouge and gentle brows, she seemed kind by nature. Yet, moved as she was by the sight of her new daughter-in-law, her full red lips trembled.

From her sleeve, she took a square of red cloth and unfolded it. Inside were stacked golden leaves—ten or so. Smiling, she said, “Ying-niang, this is a meeting gift from your mother-in-law.”

Lan Yunjin, composed, assumed this was simply the custom in Chang’an. Lowering her round fan, she bent in a respectful curtsey. “Your daughter-in-law thanks you, Mother.”

Madam Zhang nodded again and again, glancing sidelong toward the xiniang⁶ who stood nearby.

Perhaps at a prior signal, the xiniang withdrew to the outer hall.

Yuchan and Pipa were coaxed away by younger maids with plates of candied fruit, leaving the room seemingly meant for a private talk between mother-in-law and bride.

Lan Yunjin feigned ignorance, waiting for Madam Zhang to speak first.

Madam Zhang hesitated. This concerned her son’s entire future—if she did not tell the bride tonight, what would happen to the wedding night?

If she kept it secret, the truth would come out sooner or later.

Steeling herself, she decided there was no point imitating the coy manners of literati wives. After a moment, she said plainly, “Ying-niang, I won’t beat around the bush. When Changyang was young, he fell gravely ill.”

Lan Yunjin’s brows lifted. “What… what illness did my husband have?”

Madam Zhang chose her words carefully. “Changyang has a hidden ailment. In the marital bed… he has erectile dysfunction.” She spoke with the guilt of a mother, adding softly, “Ying-niang, I hope you can be patient with him. If a man’s pride is wounded on his wedding night, he may never hold his head high again.”

Footnotes

1. Zanjing shijia—literally “families of hairpins and tassels,” a poetic term for hereditary noble or official families.
2. Blind marriage—A traditional arranged marriage where the bride and groom meet for the first time at the wedding.
3. almanac—A traditional Chinese almanac, often used to determine auspicious dates.
4. Suona—A traditional Chinese double-reed horn, loud and piercing, commonly played at weddings and funerals.
5. Golden leaves—Thin sheets of gold, often used as high-value gifts in historical China.
6. Xiniang—A woman hired to manage the wedding ceremony and assist the bride, sometimes acting as a go-between for delicate matters.
7. Meng Po’s soup—In Chinese folklore, a bowl of soup given to souls in the underworld to erase all memories before reincarnation.
8. Round fan—A flat, circular silk fan, often used by women in ancient China, associated with elegance and modesty.
9. Yin hour—An ancient time division from roughly 3:00 to 5:00 AM. “Third quarter” would be around 4:30 AM.
10. Li—A traditional Chinese unit of distance; in this context, about 500 meters per li.
11. Jujube-seed tea—A calming herbal tea brewed from the seeds of red dates (jujubes), often used to aid sleep.
12. Niang—It is something like calling “Lady” or “Miss” in English; warm, respectful, and personal, but not a formal rank. Ex: Ying-niang – Lady Ying