The imperial palace was especially lively today.
Groups of officials filled the road from Dongchen Gate all the way to the walkway outside Qingyuan Palace.
It had been a long time since His Majesty last held court, and the palace hadn’t seen such a gathering in years.
Now, led by the palace eunuchs, civil and military officials entered Qingyuan Palace one after another. Many hadn’t set foot in the palace in years—especially the recently appointed capital officials.
There was a buzz of speculation among them, but once inside Qingyuan Palace, they learned the truth: His Majesty was personally leading the army into battle, and had summoned the officials to formally appoint Prince Huan as Regent!
Fu Ye was dressed in a golden prince’s robe embroidered with a coiling python, his waist girded with a black jade belt. He sat beside Fu Huang.
The officials all knelt and bowed low. Before them, the two brothers radiated such majesty that it was as if dragon and serpent shone together in splendor.
The emperor, always imposing, looked especially solemn and dignified now. And Prince Huan, with his striking beauty—so radiant it could shake the world—seemed lofty and untouchable. The wide sleeves of the emperor’s black dragon robe billowed like clouds in the heavens, mingling with the golden python-embroidered court robe of the prince.
It was truly the sight of an imperial house—magnificence and awe in perfect harmony—making all who saw it instinctively bow their heads in reverence.
But off to the side, Qin Neijian had another thought. Today, the civil and military officials were gathered in full; Qingyuan Palace had never been this bustling before. Seeing His Majesty and the prince in their splendid garments, receiving the officials’ kneeling homage, he couldn’t help but think—
It looked just like a wedding.
In a way, wasn’t this like hosting a grand banquet for their guests?
Once the imperial edict was issued, word of His Majesty’s plan to personally lead the expedition spread throughout the capital in less than half a day.
Over the past few days, rumors had been flying—true or false—about the new emperor of Daliang. People said he was incredibly formidable, that the front lines had suffered one defeat after another, leaving the people of the capital anxious and afraid.
Some even started recalling how the Chen clan of Dayong had been toppled back then—crushed in what seemed like the blink of an eye.
This young man named Huang Tianyi—they said he was like a god of war.
It had taken him just two months to seize all of Dayong. And what of Great Zhou now?
Rumor had it that Yuanzhou had already fallen, and Fangzhou would be next.
Other than worrying, there was little the people could do.
But now that the decree was out, everyone began to remember:
“Come to think of it, wasn’t our emperor a god of war too, back in the day?”
“When the Hu barbarians invaded back then—they nearly reached the capital! But wasn’t it His Majesty who turned the tide?”
“Exactly. He was just a youth at the time. Folks were hoping he could at least hold the capital, but in no time, he won victory after victory. Back then, people said it was nothing short of miraculous!”
“I heard His Majesty could shoot an arrow through a willow at a hundred paces. On the battlefield, he was like an army unto himself—always charging at the forefront!”
“Right. That whole ‘leading from the front’ business? Huang Tianyi’s just doing what His Majesty perfected years ago!”
In recent years, terrifying rumors about Fu Huang had piled up so high that people had forgotten: he was once the savior of Great Zhou.
But today, they remembered.
He was every bit as great as that Huang Tianyi.
“Our emperor made his name when he was just a boy, and even now he’s only twenty-six—two years younger than that Huang Tianyi!”
“Now that His Majesty is personally leading the army, Great Zhou is saved!”
The enemy had invaded their lands—there was no retreat left. The emperor’s divine might, his ruthless decisiveness, his thunderous authority—word was he was even more terrifying now than in his youth.
And terrifying was exactly what they needed—to slaughter the Daliang invaders, to send them fleeing in panic!
In the past, whenever people spoke of Fu Huang, they always thought of him as some unspeakable monster. But now, everyone was remembering his greatness. Even his fearsome nature had become a virtue. The people’s spirits soared. They all wanted to send their emperor off with honor. Some in the capital even started donating money and supplies to support the southern campaign.
Zhang Gui, too, was to ride with the emperor. As Zhao Ziying packed his things, he said, “If we win this battle, His Majesty will become a sovereign the people revere like a wise and virtuous ruler of legend.”
But Zhang Gui was uneasy. He said, “Seeing how things stand in the capital today, His Majesty has no choice but to win.”
But could they really win?
Over these past few days, they had analyzed Huang Tianyi over and over. The man was cunning beyond his years, blessed by the heavens themselves, his fortune unmatched. Word had it that all under heaven saw him as the destined ruler—soon to unify the realm and become a sovereign for the ages.
It had been over a hundred years since the last dynasty unified the realm. If someone truly managed to unite the world now, it would be an achievement for the ages!
Zhao Ziying said, “You’ve spent these past few days analyzing Huang Tianyi. Meanwhile, I’ve been going over His Majesty’s early battles with a few friends.”
Zhang Gui looked at him.
Zhao Ziying, always graceful and handsome, was usually a man of few words. But in front of Zhang Gui, he would speak at length, his voice gentle, explaining military matters with quiet confidence. “I think His Majesty is even more brilliant than Huang Tianyi.”
By now the sun was setting, and the grounds of Qingyuan Palace were still bustling with officials coming and going.
The emperor was to depart for war at dawn. There was so much to do.
So much that no one knew if there would be time for the wedding.
Qin Neijian had gone out of the palace and bought two red wedding robes—not made to fit His Majesty and the prince, so they didn’t quite suit them. He had Fu Ye try his on first.
Now, even the usually silent and composed palace attendants in Qingyuan Palace were rushing about in a flurry, preparing for the campaign. Gold and silver vessels, food, medicine, bedding, clothing—just the supplies needed for the emperor and his entourage took up several carts. The carriages came and went, and from behind the carved archway you could see palace servants and officials moving in and out of the imperial study at a frantic pace.
As dusk fell, the scene only made the impending separation feel all the more real.
If ordinary people felt nervous, how could the prince not?
“Today is a happy day for Your Highness and His Majesty. You should be joyful. I’ve served the emperor for many years—and I don’t mean to boast—but His Majesty truly is a military genius. When he marched south and took Zouzhou, he had only two hundred guards. Liang Fangde had fifty thousand men, with Dayong behind him!”
Right now, Fu Ye was desperate to hear just how incredible his husband was. He immediately asked, “And then?”
As Qin Neijian helped him into his new robe, he recounted the story in vivid detail.
He’d followed Fu Huang for years, and though no great strategist, he knew enough to tell the tale with flair. Even Shuangfu listened wide-eyed.
“…In the end, His Majesty planted the Sun, Moon, and Star banner on Zouzhou’s city wall in just one night!”
Shuangfu gasped. “His Majesty is amazing!”
Fu Ye imagined Fu Huang as a teenager—a young general, unstoppable and triumphant.
When it came to heroic leading men, that plain-looking Huang Tianyi couldn’t hold a candle to Fu Huang.
Fu Huang truly had the air of a ruler destined for greatness!
And now, Fu Ye thought, he was about to marry such a man.
He was genuinely happy.
He turned to the mirror and saw a blur of brilliant red. The red sash cinched his slender waist. His long hair fell loose down his back. He really did look like a bride.
“Your Highness is truly beautiful,” Qin Neijian said sincerely. “In all my decades at court, I’ve never seen anyone more beautiful than Your Highness. His Majesty is truly blessed.”
Compliments on his looks no longer made much of an impression. But hearing someone say that Fu Huang was blessed—that hit Fu Ye right in the heart.
It filled him with pride. Sweet, sour, and utterly tender, his heart felt like it might melt.
Once he’d tried on the robe, night had fallen completely.
Fu Huang came to eat supper with him, and afterward went back to his work.
Fu Ye went alone to bathe.
It was only when he reached the bathhouse that the reality of the wedding hit him.
His heart thudded with that bittersweet mixture of parting sorrow and the nervous joy of marriage.
He washed carefully that night, down to the last detail.
His fingers weren’t like Fu Huang’s, hardened with thin calluses. His fingertips were clean, soft—and now flushed with embarrassment and fear.
He felt so small and fragile down there, painfully tight, and delicate to the point of pitiful. He was so tender, so afraid of pain.
And Fu Huang… was truly formidable.
Just last night, when he measured with his hands, both his hands crossed and wrapped from top to bottom—yet still the dragon’s head peeked out.
The most terrifying part was how it coiled and throbbed, burning hot to the touch.
But this was something they had to go through, wasn’t it?
Fu Huang was about to ride off to war, with no knowing what fate awaited him. Fu Ye didn’t want to be left with any regrets.
So he sank down into the bathwater, his black hair spreading like thick seaweed. Rose petals floated on the surface, scattered among his dark locks so that it looked as if his hair was strewn with blossoms.
Qin Neijian had prepared new inner and outer robes for him. Once dressed, Fu Ye dried his hair and returned from the bathhouse. Only then did Fu Huang return.
And what a sight met his eyes.
Fu Ye sat kneeling on the bed platform, dressed in the red robes of a bridegroom, his long hair loose about his shoulders, writing something by the soft glow of the flower-shaped lantern. He was breathtaking.
No one in this world suited wedding robes better than Fu Ye. His beauty was dazzling, and the red only made him more radiant. His figure was slender, a little delicate, so that the vivid color didn’t overwhelm—but was just right, like the soft light of summer flowers.
Now, with his hair unbound, bowed over his writing with such focus, and after these tearful days of farewell, his whole being seemed soaked through with sorrow, so fragile that it made any man’s heart ache—and stir with dark desire.
Fu Huang reminded himself to stay restrained tonight, to be the gentle, considerate groom.
He watched him for a while, then went to bathe.
Qin Neijian followed, and as they walked toward the bathhouse, Fu Huang asked, “Is everything ready?”
Qin Neijian replied, “Just waiting on Your Majesty.”
After a moment, realizing what the emperor truly meant, he lowered his voice and added, “…The prince prepared clove balm himself.”
Today, he’d even gone out of the palace, cheeks burning, to ask discreetly what was needed for two men to share a bed. The looks he got—an old man like him, asking about such things—had nearly done him in.
But for His Majesty and the prince, he would risk any embarrassment!
If they were an ordinary couple, he thought, he’d be sitting at the head table at the wedding feast!
Fu Huang said nothing. Qin Neijian stole a glance at him, then offered, “They say first you marry, then you build your career. Now Your Majesty has a family. Tomorrow, off to make your mark. The good days are all ahead.”
Fu Huang stepped into the bath. Once he’d settled into the steaming medicinal pool, he called Qin Neijian over.
Qin Neijian sat on the edge and looked at him.
“Tomorrow, when I march out, you’re to stay behind.”
Qin Neijian was shocked. “How could I? I must go with Your Majesty.”
“The battlefield is no place for you. Think of your age.”
Qin Neijian said, “I can still ride and shoot as well as ever.”
Fu Huang said quietly, “But I trust no one else to look after him. I’ll leave Li Dun behind too. And I’ve written an imperial edict—three copies. One’s with the Empress Dowager, one with the Chancellor, and one will be with you. Keep it safe. If the worst happens… you protect him for me.”
Tears filled Qin Neijian’s eyes at once.
Fu Huang said, “It’s just in case. Today’s our wedding. If you cry yourself blind, who’ll officiate the ceremony later?”
Qin Neijian wiped his eyes and said nothing more.
Fu Huang said, “You’ve followed me for so many years—I’ve long seen you as my only family. If you understand my heart, you’ll do as I ask. Watch over him. Wait for me to come home. I’ve put you through so much hardship; one more trial, and I promise you a peaceful retirement. And don’t worry—the good days aren’t done. I’ve got too much unfinished to die now.”
Qin Neijian wiped his tears. “Yes. And for the prince’s sake, Your Majesty must come back safe. It wouldn’t do to make him a widow on his wedding night.”
Fu Huang smirked. “Exactly. If I really die and he dares to take another husband—I swear I’ll claw my way out of the grave.”
After thinking for a moment, he added, “If that day really comes, you have to keep an eye on him for me.”
Qin Neijian wiped his tears and chuckled, rising to his feet. “We should start setting up the wedding chamber. I’ll go take care of it.”
Fu Huang said seriously, “I mean it. Anything else I can let go—but not this.”
Qin Neijian smiled through his tears. “Your Majesty, I couldn’t keep an eye on that even if I tried. You’d best come back and do it yourself. Who else in this world could ever keep the prince in check besides you?”
With that, he left the bathhouse and returned to Chun Zhao Hall.
Fu Ye had just finished writing, gently blowing on the ink to dry it. Shuangfu opened a scroll tube, and Fu Ye rolled up his writing, slid it inside, and handed it to Qin Neijian.
Qin Neijian asked, “What’s this, Your Highness?”
“I worry for him. I wrote out his daily medicines, what he should watch out for, and some prescriptions for injuries or illnesses that might come up at the front.”
“Your Highness already left a copy when you left the palace before. I had them memorize it all.” Qin Neijian smiled gently. “This one should go straight to His Majesty. This isn’t a medical list—it’s your feelings for him, written out in every word.”
Fu Ye, usually shy about such talk, flushed at the tease. He watched as the servants started setting up the altar, spreading red cloths—and his cheeks grew even redder.
Just then, from the courtyard next door, they heard the hurried stomp of feet. A palace attendant from the ornamental gate rushed in. Fu Ye straightened at once. “What is it?”
The attendant held out a letter, wrapped in dark yellow oilcloth. “Your Highness, urgent report from the front!”
Fu Ye reached out and took the letter, unwrapping and scanning it—and his expression changed at once.
It was as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over him. His heart clenched with unease.
Qin Neijian asked anxiously, “Your Highness, what is it?”
“Yuanzhou has fallen.”
Qin Neijian froze, stunned into silence.
Inside Qingyuan Palace, the wedding candles burned tall and bright. The dragon and phoenix candlesticks twined with golden lotus stems. On the altar, the plaques for Heaven, Earth, the sovereign, parents, and teachers stood solemn, while red dates, peanuts, longans, and lotus seeds—all wrapped in gold leaf—were stacked like a nine-layered pagoda.
Shuangfu and the others were still busy laying down the crimson pomegranate-embroidered carpet, with magpies among plum blossoms and mandarin ducks in playful pairs. They carried armfuls of fresh flowers, arranging them around the bedchamber until it seemed the room bloomed with a sea of petals, sweet fragrance filling the air.
A gilded double-happiness lock hooked up the red silk bed curtains. On the bed, the double-happiness quilt was neatly spread.
Servants bustled about, weaving through the festive scene, but Fu Ye and Qin Neijian both wore heavy hearts. Before long, Fu Huang returned. Fu Ye immediately handed him the military dispatch.
Fu Huang read it, his expression unchanged. He simply told Qin Neijian, “Put it away.” And to Fu Ye, he said, “This was expected.”
Fu Ye held back the unease and bitterness welling up inside him, nodded, and said, “Let’s not think about anything else tonight. Let’s take care of the proper business first.”
The more anxious he felt, the more he wanted to complete the marriage without delay.
Qin Neijian had already brought over Fu Huang’s ceremonial robes. Fu Ye personally helped him change into the wedding attire.
Fu Huang’s face was thin, his complexion not at its best—but once he put on the red robes, his striking handsomeness shone through. His phoenix eyes lifted ever so slightly at the corners; what should have looked a bit rakish instead carried a noble and commanding air. That robe was simply too stunning—stunning enough to make them both, Fu Ye and Qin Neijian, forget their sorrow for a moment. They simply stared, dazed, at Fu Huang standing there.
Fu Ye felt his heart surge with emotion. He turned to Qin Neijian and said, “May I trouble you, Neijian, to act as our wedding officiant.”
At this point, the double doors of the Qingyuan Palace’s east wing were shut tight. The many palace attendants had withdrawn, leaving only Shuangfu to guard the entrance to the inner courtyard.
What remained was a small world for these two who loved each other.
And Qin Neijian, inside, was to officiate this union.
To think that he could officiate for the Emperor and the Prince—this was a favor beyond compare, a glory no one in history had ever received, nor would again. His life had truly been worthwhile!
He was so moved he was more excited than the two grooms themselves. Before he could speak, his eyes were already wet.
Fu Huang said, “You can cry after the ceremony. Let’s finish bowing to Heaven and Earth first.”
Qin Neijian pulled himself together, straightened his back, and with utmost solemnity called out:
“First bow to Heaven and Earth!”
In that moment, it felt sacred beyond words—enough to make one’s heart tremble.
Fu Huang and Fu Ye knelt and bowed before the altar, where the plaques of Heaven, Earth, the sovereign, parents, and teachers stood.
Fu Ye’s hands were shaking from the overwhelming emotion.
In that instant, he forgot everything—the battle reports, the looming parting—all of it. There was only this overwhelming joy. He thought that if the red thread of fate truly existed, then surely right now a net of red threads was binding them together, tighter than ever.
“Second bow to the ancestral hall!” Qin Neijian declared.
The two of them knelt once more, this time in the direction of the royal ancestral temple.
Qin Neijian, holding the ceremonial nuptial wine, called out, “Now bow to each other as husband and husband!”
His voice trembled with excitement; tears sparkled in his smiling eyes as he looked at the pair.
Fu Huang and Fu Ye met each other’s gaze, their eyes brimming with tears. Fu Huang’s face remained composed and dignified, his dark pupils deep as night.
They cupped their hands and bowed to one another, their breath mingling in the space between them.
And with that bow, they were truly bound as husbands. Fu Huang felt that from this moment on, he need fear death no longer—because his life and death now belonged to someone, to Fu Ye.
Qin Neijian hurriedly poured the nuptial wine and handed it to them.
Fu Huang had not touched alcohol in years, and likely would not again. This cup would be the last of his life.
They crossed their arms, their faces glowing in the light of their red wedding robes, and drained the cup together.
Tears in his eyes, Qin Neijian said, “I won’t need to announce the bridal chamber, will I?”
He laughed warmly as he took back the empty cups and quietly closed the door behind him.
Outside at the entrance, Shuangfu’s face was flushed red. “Are they done with the bows?” he asked shyly.
Qin Neijian grinned and handed him a handful of wedding sweets.
Shuangfu took one look and saw it was a handful of red dates and peanuts wrapped in gold leaf. He said, “So, His Majesty and the Prince can… have lots of heirs soon too?”
Fu Huang looked at Fu Ye.
He couldn’t quite put the feeling into words. Somehow, Fu Ye seemed different from before.
It was hard to say exactly what had changed—on the surface, nothing but a title. Fu Ye had gone from beloved to spouse. But somehow, that made everything feel different.
Fu Huang kept his eyes on Fu Ye.
And in that gaze, he felt powerful.
Like everything had cleared, like he himself had grown stronger. Because Fu Ye was his, standing with him. His heart felt full at last—so full, so warm.
Fu Ye thought to himself: is this what people feel in modern times the moment they register their marriage?
It’s still the same person, but somehow… boyfriend and husband just aren’t the same.
So subtle, this difference.
He wondered: would that subtle shift happen too when they became one in body?
And tonight, with both their new bond and their union of bodies—would it feel even more different?
Would they feel even closer? Would their hearts press together as one? Would their love run so deep they’d want to cry?
He didn’t know if others felt that way—but he knew he and Fu Huang would.
All at once, a tide of passion surged up inside him, unstoppable. It was as if he needed this heat, this intensity, to shatter him completely. Before their parting, he needed to erase every last bit of distance between them, to become the closest, truest of spouses.
He threw himself into Fu Huang’s arms.
Their hearts beat as one, and Fu Huang swept him up in a firm embrace, his arms wrapped tight around his waist.
That strength left Fu Ye weak, as if all his own strength had been stripped away.
At that moment, Fu Huang’s expression turned dark, almost frighteningly composed—there was something strange and deliberate in it. He drew the dragon-and-phoenix wedding candle closer, its warm golden light dancing, and slowly undressed Fu Ye.
Then he shed his own robes as well.
The candlelight gleamed like molten gold against skin like white jade. Even the finest mutton-fat jade would pale in comparison. Fu Ye’s hair, soft and dark as clouds, spread out slowly over the pair of mandarin-duck pillows.
Fu Huang wouldn’t let him move. He took his time, letting his gaze sweep over him—front, back, head to toe.
Fu Huang’s frame was lean, but strong beyond compare, tall as a mountain, with broad shoulders and long legs—he stood nearly a head taller than Fu Ye, making Fu Ye look all the more delicate and beautiful. Like a tender vine twining around a pine that soared into the sky.
The first time Fu Ye laid eyes on Fu Huang, he’d felt the man was harsh—almost brutal.
More than once, he’d thought Fu Huang was the type who would crush someone beneath his feet and take them right there.
But Fu Huang chose instead to wield gentleness as an even crueler weapon. He took his time, gazing carefully over every inch of him, prying him open, his eyes sweeping over the territory he was about to claim.
This might be their only night together, but it was also their first. So Fu Huang could only let his cruelty and fierceness take other forms—to ensure Fu Ye would remember this wedding night forever.
The summer night was stiflingly hot. The slow, grinding motion made the clove balm melt into slick oil that trickled down, its fragrance filling the red-draped bed.
The name clove was beautiful, but the balm’s scent wasn’t particularly pleasant. Fu Ye had chosen it because it could ease and soothe the pain.
The wedding candles burned brightly, their flickering light casting the pair’s overlapping shadows along the wall. From start to finish they fit together as perfectly as mortise and tenon, joined at every point, as if fused as one. Fu Huang held him close as they knelt upon the bed, the muscles of his back taut, powerful legs shifting slightly with effort. Both their dark hair spilled loose, thick and black, veiling their bodies, streaming down like a waterfall to the floor.
Fu Huang wasn’t rough—but his abdomen was so flat and lean that it distorted under the pressure.
The red candle flared, a pop as a flower of wax burst, molten droplets sliding down.
And then Fu Ye felt a surge of life poured into him, too fierce to bear, searing through his most fragile depths. In that instant, they bound their souls as one, just as they had longed for.
At last, Fu Ye broke down in tears.
When all one’s wishes are fulfilled, that’s when tears come—not even knowing why, lost somewhere between joy and fear.
The palace lay silent all around them. Two lovers had passed through one of the most important moments of their lives, sealed as husband and husband.
The next morning at dawn’s first light, Xie Xiang and the others arrived at the palace.
It was the first time they’d found the palace so quiet.
Eunuch Qin instructed them to wait in the west annex hall.
He himself slipped quietly into the Chun Zhao Hall to report.
The moment he entered, he was struck by the lingering scent of clove from the night before. The bed had been moved out of place, knocked crooked against the folding screen—which was also askew.
He’d kept watch outside the doorway all night, hearing only faint sounds of the Prince weeping, and His Majesty’s low voice, coaxing, gentle.
He thought to himself: this wedding had come together in haste. It was the first time for both of them. His Majesty was a true Son of Heaven—not someone any ordinary person could withstand. Of course he would be gentle. Of course he loved the Prince deeply. He would have held himself back.
But… if this was gentle—
Then what would not gentle look like? Would they have had to clear the whole courtyard and stuff their ears with cotton? Should he have found them a sturdier bed?!
He coughed softly, just as Fu Huang pushed aside the bed curtains, pulling on a long robe.
Qin Neijian had watched Fu Huang grow up, and as a eunuch was long since used to such scenes. Still, he kept his gaze lowered respectfully, handed over warm water, and withdrew behind the screen.
As Fu Huang washed, Qin stole a glance into the bed and saw the Prince lying there, seemingly unable to rise.
Fu Huang dressed and came out, bending low to speak softly: “I’ll go see the ministers first—I’ll be back soon.”
And with that, he lifted the curtain, pressed a kiss to Fu Ye’s brow, and left.
As soon as the bed curtains were lifted, Eunuch Qin could see clearly. Fu Ye’s thick black hair was in disarray, his lips bore a small wound, and he lay atop the wedding quilt, his beauty so radiant it seemed to fill the room with fragrance.
So beautiful.
His Majesty was truly blessed beyond measure.
He followed Fu Huang out from the Chun Zhao Hall. Fu Huang glanced back at him and said, “Later, you see to him yourself. Don’t let Xiao Luzi or the others go in.”
The Prince was shy. He understood.
“Understood, Your Majesty.” Eunuch Qin hesitated, then couldn’t help but add, “Congratulations on your wedding, Your Majesty.”
Fu Huang turned to look at him. The sunlight fell upon his face, and though there were dark circles under his eyes—no doubt from a sleepless night, as who could sleep well on their wedding night—his eyes shone bright, full of spirit.
Wan and tired, yet so full of vitality—words couldn’t capture it, but the sight sparked a thought in Qin’s mind.
At that moment, he felt His Majesty had tasted the ultimate joy of the mortal world, and stood now in his prime, heroic and radiant. This campaign would surely be a victory!
He couldn’t say why, but that certainty filled his heart, and in an instant, all the sorrow of impending parting seemed to lift, the gloom cleared away.
At the third quarter of the hour of Si (about 9:45 a.m.), the Court of Astronomy had chosen it as an auspicious time for the expedition. From dawn, the civil and military officials had assembled outside the Heavenly Gate. The people of the capital had turned out in full force to send off the army; it had been years since Jian Tai City had seen such unity.
With the morning light spreading in brilliance across the land, the great gates of the palace swung open to the sounds of solemn music.
Within the palace, everyone had risen early to prepare.
Fu Ye was likely the last.
He took down the wedding symbols from Chun Zhao Hall, placing half among Fu Huang’s luggage to bring along.
It felt festive to him—surely it would bring good luck.
Dressed in a crimson robe embroidered with a python design, Fu Ye sat by the window. Shuang Fu gathered his hair and secured it with a golden crown; a black jade plaque dangled from the gleaming gold belt at his waist. The sunlight streamed in at an angle, casting him in a radiant glow.
When Fu Huang entered and saw him, he felt that Fu Ye was like a flower blooming in slow motion, its fragrance spreading far and wide.
To have a wife like this—he truly was the most fortunate man in the world. There was no doubt Heaven had blessed him. And since Heaven had shown him such favor, then of course he must repay it with a triumphant return—to fulfill his wish of living in peace and love by his beloved’s side.
