In the frigid northwest frontier, the north wind howled, whipping up snow and gravel that lashed against the tents with dull thuds. A somber, gray-white expanse stretched across the land. Yet, beside the main command tent, a slightly larger, specially prepared tent emanated a warm glow and a festive atmosphere that seemed completely out of place in this harsh winter.
There were no lanterns or decorations, no deafening drums or gongs. Several braziers of charcoal burned brightly inside the tent, dispelling the biting chill. On the central table, a faded but clean red cloth served as the wedding table. There were no dragon and phoenix candles on it, only two rough earthenware bowls filled with clear, strong liquor. Beside them were a small dish of dried mutton and a dish of hard, flatbread—this was the entirety of the "wedding feast."
Lu Zheng changed into a nearly new indigo military uniform, his epaulets gleaming, and his hair was carefully combed. He stood ramrod straight, his eyes, usually sharp as a hawk's, now as gentle as melting spring water, carrying a hint of barely perceptible tension as he tightly locked the tent flap.
The tent flap was lifted, and the old military doctor, smiling broadly, acted as a matchmaker, leading a person in.
Luo Qingrou has arrived.
She wore no phoenix coronet or embroidered robes, not even brightly colored dresses. She still wore her faded, coarse cloth military uniform, and unusually, her long hair wasn't tucked into her hat, but loosely tied into a simple bun with a smooth, polished rosewood hairpin she'd found somewhere. Beside her temple, a small, unnamed pale yellow wildflower bloomed tenaciously in the cold wind. Her face was unadorned, and the warmth of the charcoal fire gave it a slight reddish glow, making her eyes appear even brighter, like stars, radiating the shyness and determination of a new bride.
This outfit might seem utterly shabby to the noble ladies of the capital, but in the desolate and bleak military camp, in Lu Zheng's eyes, it surpassed all the finest clothes and adornments in the world. She stood there like a snow lotus stubbornly blooming in the bitter cold, pure and resilient, illuminating his entire life.
Inside the tent were only a few of Lu Zheng's most trusted lieutenants and the veteran military doctor. They looked at the newlyweds with sincere and simple smiles on their faces.
"First bow to heaven and earth—!" the old military doctor cleared his throat and called out in a drawn-out tone. There were no elders in the hall, only this vast heaven and earth, witnessing their union.
Lu Zheng and Luo Qingrou faced the vast expanse of wind and snow outside the tent and bowed deeply. This bow was to the border moon and the thousands of miles of mountains and rivers that had witnessed their life-and-death bond and their mutual understanding.
"Second bow..." The old army doctor paused, looking at the two rough earthenware bowls on the table, "Second bow to the parents... I'll offer this bowl of wine as a token of my gratitude to the elders of my hometown!"
The two exchanged a smile, their eyes glistening with tears. Turning to the two bowls of sake, they bowed deeply once more. This bow was to their loved ones in the capital, who had received word and tacitly approved of this unusual wedding.
"Husband and wife bow to each other—!"
Lu Zheng and Luo Qingrou stood facing each other. The sound of wind and snow was shut out from outside the tent; only the crackling of the burning charcoal and their clearly audible heartbeats filled the air. He looked at her clear eyes, focused only on his reflection, and she looked at the deep affection in his eyes that almost melted her. They bowed simultaneously, their foreheads nearly touching. This bow was a bow to each other, a bow to the deep affection and promise that had transcended life and death, broken free from constraints, and finally been fulfilled.
The ceremony is complete!
Luo Qingrou wore a scarlet dress, though not a full-blown phoenix coronet and embroidered robe, it was still carefully prepared—the fabric was a fine silk that had been painstakingly sourced from the nearest town, and the style was simple and elegant. Her long hair was not styled into a complicated updo, but rather neatly combed, adorned with a hairpin that Lu Zheng had personally polished from a captured wolf tooth, inlaid with a small ruby, which shimmered with a warm luster in the firelight. Her face was lightly powdered, concealing the roughness brought on by the hardships of the frontier, and her eyes shone like stars, carrying the shyness and joy of a new bride.
There was no bustling revelry of a grand hall in the capital, no elaborate wedding procession. This wedding was set against the backdrop of howling wind and snow, with the sincere blessings of comrades, an old military doctor as the officiant, and heaven and earth as witnesses.
The old army doctor chuckled and picked up the wine bowl: "Come, come! Your Highness, Your Highness! Drink this nuptial wine! May you grow old together and never be separated! In this godforsaken place, to be able to drink a cup of wedding wine, this old man will wake up laughing in his dreams!"
Lu Zheng and Luo Qingrou each picked up a bowl of wine. The wine was the strongest liquor in the military camp, pungent and choking. Their arms were intertwined, their eyes locked, and under the kind gazes of the others, they tilted their heads back and drank the strong liquor in one gulp. The fiery liquid burned from their throats all the way to their stomachs, igniting a blush on their cheeks and a burning passion in their hearts.
"Good!" the lieutenants roared.
Lu Zheng put down his wine bowl, looked at Luo Qingrou's face, which was even more beautiful due to the smell of wine, and said in a low voice, "I'm sorry to have to make you suffer, Qingrou." Such a simple wedding in this harsh place.
The noisy crowd was politely asked to leave by Lu Zheng, leaving only the two of them inside the tent. Red candles burned brightly, their flickering flames casting a warm and intimate glow within the tent.
Luo Qingrou sat on the edge of a simple bed covered with a brand-new red quilt, her heart pounding like a drum, her fingers nervously twisting the hem of her clothes. Lu Zheng walked up to her, squatted down, and looked up at her.
Luo Qingrou reached out, her fingertips gently tracing the scar on his face, her eyes filled with heartache and determination: "Where you are, is the best bridal chamber. Lu Zheng, I'm not wronged. Marrying you is the greatest blessing of my life." She paused, a blush rising to her cheeks, "As for Father and Mother... I've already written to them to express my feelings. Although they were worried, they ultimately... agreed. When we return to the capital, we'll hold a proper wedding to put their minds at ease."
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