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The Yu Dynasty palace was brightly decorated with lanterns and colorful streamers, and a ten-mile-long procession of red processions adorned the palace. Today was the wedding day of Princess Zhaochen, Si Mianmian, and Emperor Xuanjing of the Yan Dynasty. The marriage between the two nations was a cause for celebration throughout the land. This wedding was both a grand declaration of a political alliance and the first direct confrontation between two proud souls bound together by fate.
At 4:45 AM, before dawn, Si Mianmian was awakened by the head maid of Yonghe Palace. The large hall was brightly lit with candles, and palace servants filed in, carrying phoenix crowns, wedding robes, and jewelry, waiting quietly to the side.
Si Mianmian sat before the mirror, gazing at her blurred reflection. Her attire today was far more elaborate and solemn than that of her coming-of-age ceremony. Her long gown and ceremonial robe, a deep blue fabric embroidered with gold dragon and cloud patterns, exuded elegance and nobility; her pheasant-feathered robe, also deep blue, was decorated with colorful pheasant patterns, signifying her princess rank; the heavy phoenix crown, adorned with jade and agate, symbolized the weight of the empire she would soon bear. The head maidservant combed her hair while chanting auspicious blessings, each line concerning "numerous descendants" and "national prosperity." Si Mianmian's expression remained calm as she gracefully turned, her heart devoid of the shyness and anticipation of a new bride, instead filled with clarity, even a hint of cold scrutiny. This marriage, begun with calculation and born of coercion, its future uncertain—whether it would be filled with warmth or thorns—remained unknown. All she could do was to be fully alert and carefully navigate each step before her. After finishing her makeup, the woman in the mirror was a bride surrounded by jewels and dazzling with glory, but a sharp glint flashed in the depths of her almond-shaped eyes.
Meanwhile, Xuan Jing, already fully dressed, was inside the post station. He wore a black imperial robe embroidered with the twelve imperial symbols, a jade belt cinching his waist, which accentuated his tall and imposing figure. His face was calm, devoid of joy or sorrow, only the occasional tremor of his fingertips betraying his inner turmoil. The sounds of the Yu capital's people clamoring outside the window drifted over. He slowly walked to the window, his gaze sweeping over the layers of palace walls, looking towards the Yu Palace. Marrying her was an inevitable step in the political game, and also a long-cherished scheme of his. But would that seemingly delicate, yet deeply scheming Ninth Princess willingly accept such an arrangement? He recalled the Yu Emperor's seemingly generous, yet unyielding attitude when the envoys from both countries argued endlessly over the wedding details, and Si Mianmian's flawless, submissive demeanor. This wedding, from the very beginning, was fraught with an invisible battlefield.
At 10:00 AM, the bells of the Imperial Ancestral Temple rang nine times, their sound echoing throughout the surrounding area. The solemn and dignified farewell ceremony began. Xuan Jing and Si Mianmian, each guided by officials from their respective countries, entered the main hall of the Imperial Ancestral Temple, where the emperors of the Yu Dynasty were enshrined. Civil and military officials, members of the imperial family, and envoys from both countries lined both sides, creating a somber atmosphere. Si Mianmian, dressed in elaborate ceremonial robes, walked with a steady gait. To the announcer's call, she performed the three kneelings and nine kowtows to the ancestors of the Yu Dynasty. She clearly recited the prayer to the temple, her voice clear and resonant, echoing in the empty hall, expressing her consolation to her ancestors, her responsibility to her country, and… her resolute decision to marry into a foreign land. Emperor Si Yuanhong, seated high on his throne, looked at his daughter with a complex expression—a mixture of relief, guilt, and deep expectation. After the ceremony, Si Mianmian performed the farewell bow to the Emperor and Consort Wen. As she kowtowed, her forehead touching the cold floor tiles, she could hear her mother's suppressed sobs. Her heart ached, but she forced back her tears, simply raising her head to look resolutely at her father and mother, and softly said, "Your daughter bids farewell to Father and Mother. May Father and Mother live long and prosperous lives, and may the Great Yu Kingdom endure forever." At this moment, she was not only a bride, but also a princess shouldering the mission of diplomatic relations.
As the new son-in-law, Xuan Jing also performed the traditional kowtow to Emperor Yu and Empress Dowager. His demeanor was composed, and his etiquette was impeccable. Only when Si Mianmian rose and their eyes inadvertently met, did he catch a fleeting glint of cold light in her eyes—a light that was anything but docile. Xuan Jing's heart stirred slightly, but his face remained impassive.
The farewell ceremony at the temple was completed, and it was nearly noon. The main gate of the imperial city, Chengtian Gate, slowly opened, and a grand wedding procession snaked out. Banners blotted out the sun, and drums and music filled the air. Si Mianmian rode in an incomparably luxurious nine-phoenix golden carriage, pulled by eight pure white horses. Guards cleared the way ahead, palace maids carried fans, and the dowry procession stretched for miles behind, containing gold, silver, jewels, silks, antiques, books, and medicines—a testament to the power of the Yu Dynasty and the princess's prestige. Xuan Jing rode alongside the phoenix carriage on horseback.
The people of Yudu were thronged with people, lining the streets to watch, cheers rising and falling. They eagerly awaited a glimpse of the legendary princess's splendor, and discussed this marriage that would reshape the world. Si Mianmian sat upright in her carriage, gazing through the beaded curtain at the surging crowds and familiar street scenes outside. This was her homeland, where she had grown up; today's departure meant she didn't know when she would return. She gently clutched a mutton-fat jade pendant (a gift from Xuan Jing years ago) hidden in her sleeve, her only remaining, faint connection to the past. Xuan Jing, mounted on his horse, accepted the gaze of the masses, his expression still cold and stern, but his peripheral vision constantly kept an eye on the palanquin beside him.
The grand wedding procession arrived at the long pavilion outside the capital of Yu, where a farewell banquet was held. Emperor Yu personally poured wine for Xuan Jing and the wedding delegation, offering words of encouragement and advice that, though seemingly casual, were crucial to diplomatic relations. Si Mianmian shared a farewell drink with Xuan Jing; the wine was pungent, mirroring her current state of mind.
The ceremony reached its climax at dusk. In the Taiji Hall (the main hall of the Yan Dynasty's imperial palace), the border capital of the Yan Dynasty, red candles burned brightly, and the hall was ablaze with light. Nobles and high-ranking officials from both countries gathered together. Xuan Jing and Si Mianmian, guided by the master of ceremonies, entered the hall.
First bow to Heaven and Earth: praying that Heaven and Earth will bear witness and bring blessings to both nations.
The second bow to the elders: Empress Dowager Yan sat in the highest position, receiving the newlyweds' worship, her expression inscrutable. The memorial tablets of Emperor Yu and Consort Wen were also placed to one side.
The couple bowed to each other: At this moment, the hall was completely silent. Si Mianmian and Xuan Jing stood facing each other, slowly bowing. Beneath the red veil, a faint, enigmatic smile curved Si Mianmian's lips. Xuan Jing gazed intently at the glimpse of her fair nape revealed as she bent over. This bow sealed not only their marriage, but also the fate of their two nations for decades to come.
The ceremony was complete. "Send them to the bridal chamber!" The master of ceremonies' high-pitched voice echoed throughout the hall. Cheers and music suddenly erupted, and the atmosphere reached its climax. Xuan Jing took one end of the red silk ribbon, and Si Mianmian held the other end. He led her towards the meticulously decorated new battlefield called "home"—the Jiaofang Palace (the Empress's bedroom in the Yan Dynasty).
Inside the Jiaofang Palace, red candles flickered, the festive atmosphere tinged with a sense of unfamiliarity and coldness. After the nuptial wine was drunk and the hair-tying ceremony completed, all the palace servants withdrew, leaving only the newlyweds in the hall. Xuanjing waved away the wedding attendants who were about to lift the veil, and personally picked up a jade scepter, slowly walking to the bedside. He didn't act immediately, but stood quietly for a moment before gently lifting the red veil embroidered with dragons and phoenixes with the jade scepter.
Beneath the veil lay a face of breathtaking beauty, yet devoid of any bride's shyness. Si Mianmian raised her head, her gaze calmly meeting Xuan Jing's scrutinizing eyes, a faint smile playing on her lips: "Your Majesty, are you satisfied with what you see?" Her tone was gentle, yet carried a chilling sharpness.
Xuan Jing's eyes darkened. He leaned down, pinched her chin with his fingers, forcing her to look up at him. His voice was low and dangerous: "Si Mianmian, put away your thorns. Now that you've entered my Yan Palace, from this day forward, you belong to me, Xuan Jing, in life and in death."
"Is that so?" Si Mianmian looked directly at him without fear, her eyes filled with a chilling coldness. "Then it depends on Your Majesty's ability to make Mianmian willingly... put away the thorns."
The red candles crackled, illuminating the "newlyweds," each harboring their own thoughts yet bound together by fate. Their wedding day was merely the beginning of a power struggle and emotional maneuvering. The real contest was only just beginning.
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