On the golden wedding anniversary, the morning glow spread from the glazed bricks of the prime minister's residence's screen wall. The crimson golden glow from the eastern sky first stained the gargoyles at the eaves, then flowed down the carved brackets, coating the entire eaves of the residence in molten gold. The pair of stone lions guarding the gate were scrubbed three times by a servant with a loofah dipped in well water, even the moss between their claws was cleaned. The red silk ribbons tied around their necks rustled in the morning breeze, and the copper bells at the ends tinkled softly, startling the gray pigeons roosting on the roof.
Su Jinli sat before the mirror, letting Wanyun use an ivory comb to loosely gather her graying hair. The mother-of-pearl mirror on the dressing table reflected a face etched with the marks of time. The smile lines at the corners of her eyes resembled the growth rings of the old pomegranate tree in the courtyard, yet her eyes, as they flickered, shone with a radiance brighter than that of a young girl. Wanyun pinned a mutton-fat jade hairpin into her bun. The twin lotus flowers on the hairpin's tip shone a warm, milky white in the morning light. Su Jinli gently caressed her cool, jade-like face with her fingertips, suddenly remembering the boiling water that had splashed when she overturned the teacup at her coming-of-age banquet fifty years ago. The tea had spilled onto Liu's moon-white brocade skirt, creating wrinkles that resembled the wrinkles on an old woman's face. Liu's grave was now covered with weeds, but the jade hairpin at her temple had accompanied her through half a century.
"Madam, what do you think of this phoenix corona?" Nian Li walked in, holding a vermilion lacquer tray. The red gold filigree phoenix corona on the tray shone with a luxurious glow under the candlelight. The pearl tassel held in the phoenix's mouth was three inches long, each pearl as round as a full moon. As she moved, it swayed gently, making a subtle clinking sound.
Su Jinli gazed at the golden phoenixes spread their wings atop the phoenix coronet, and suddenly remembered the silver hairpin Jiang Yan had bought her at the night market when she was eighteen, having received her first salary. The tip of the hairpin was just a crude pomegranate blossom, yet she had treasured it for fifty years. "Wear this jade hairpin your father gave you," she pointed to the wooden box in the corner of her dressing table. "All that gold and silver is nowhere near as comfortable as this jade hairpin."
Before he could finish his words, the carved wooden door gently opened. Jiang Yan, dressed in a purple brocade robe with dark patterns, stood at the doorway. The Hetian jade on the jade belt buckle at his waist reflected a faint waterline in the morning light. Behind him lurked a delicate, delicate figure. It was Xiao Yue'er, who had just turned seven. In her hands, she held a square box wrapped in red silk. "Grandma, Grandpa asked me to give you this!"
Unfolding the red silk, she revealed a neatly folded xiapei. Embroidered on the crimson satin were a hundred birds paying homage to a phoenix, each embroidered with gold thread of varying thicknesses. The feathers of the three hundred and sixty birds were each outlined in gold thread of varying thicknesses, shimmering in the light. Su Jinli's fingertips rested on the phoenix's eye—inlaid with a pigeon-blood ruby. Suddenly, she remembered the rainy night thirty years ago when Jiang Yan returned from his post in Jiangnan. Rain still dripped from the hem of his blue shirt, but he smiled like a child who had been given candy. He pulled an oil-paper bag from his sleeve pocket. Inside were twelve strands of gold thread he had saved for six months. "Jinli, wait another two years, and I'll embroider you the most impressive xiapei."
"Put it on quickly." Jiang Yan stepped forward, his fingertips brushing the embroidered hem of the shawl before gently draping it over her shoulders. Su Jinli shivered slightly as his fingers brushed the back of her neck. The touch was still as warm as when he'd used his palm to warm her frozen earlobe in the dilapidated temple fifty years ago. "Today is our big day." His voice was tinged with smile, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes formed gentle ravines.
The main hall was already bustling with activity. The young prince of the Zhenguo Mansion rode his bamboo horse through the crowd, his jade pendant jingling against the pillars. The Imperial Censor supported his silver-haired mother, who sat at the head of the table. The old woman clutched a brocade handkerchief, wiping her tears from time to time. Even the long-retired Prime Minister arrived in a bamboo sedan chair. When the curtains were lifted, half of his face, covered in age spots, was revealed. However, his eyes lit up when he saw the two people in the main seat. The guests under the eaves whispered to each other, their eyes frequently falling on Su Jinli:
"Look at the shawl that Madam Jiang is wearing. I heard it took three years and six months just to embroider it."
"Not only that, back when Prime Minister Jiang was still a seventh-rank editor, he would secretly embroider under the window of the Hanlin Academy. His colleagues laughed at him for being such a man holding an embroidery needle, but he said, 'My wife deserves the best.'"
"It's truly remarkable. After fifty years, Prime Minister Jiang still looks at his wife with the same eyes he did when he was young, as if filled with honey."
Su Heng stood on the steps, wearing a brand new stone-blue dragon robe. He had his servant comb his hair back into place with elm bark glue, but a few strands stubbornly stood up again as he spoke. "Today is my sister and brother-in-law's golden wedding anniversary! As a younger brother, my heart—" He patted his chest, the patch on his dragon robe rising and falling slightly with his movements, "I feel even warmer than when His Majesty bestowed upon me the title of Young Marquis!"
He pointed at the two people at the main seat, his voice so loud that it shook the dust off the beams: "Thinking back then, how many people gossiped in front of my father, saying that Prime Minister Jiang was from a poor family and was not worthy of our Prime Minister's daughter. But who is my sister? She is the one who could flip the teacup in the face of the young master of the Wang family at the coming-of-age banquet!" He imitated Su Jinli's youthful appearance, swaying with his hands on his hips: "She told me: 'Brother, when judging a person, you can't just look at the skin, you have to look at the heart! It's like choosing a watermelon, you have to knock it to know if it's sweet!'"
Amidst the roar of laughter, Su Qingyao stood in the crowd and curled her lips. The ruby hairpin in her hair swayed gently, but she couldn't help but curl her lips upwards. Su Heng cleared his throat and continued, "Later, Prime Minister Jiang rose from editor of the Hanlin Academy to Prime Minister. He never took a concubine, never took a penny, and doted on my sister—" He suddenly lowered his voice and leaned closer to the microphone with a mysterious look, "I once got up in the middle of the night to get some water. I passed by their courtyard and heard Prime Minister Jiang reciting poetry inside! Something like 'When the golden wind and jade dew meet, it is better than countless things in the world.' It made my teeth almost fall out!"
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