Chapter 19

The wedding date was set for late June, an auspicious day. Qingmiao Village hadn’t seen a celebration like this for a long time, so the villagers, upon seeing members of the Gu family, couldn’t help but offer their congratulations.

Those who had previously spread rumors about Gu Chengwu and Jiang Yun sensibly kept their mouths shut. Now that the marriage was official, no one wanted to invite bad luck at such a moment. With Jiang Shunde’s unfortunate fate as a cautionary example, who would dare speak ill? Naturally, everyone greeted them with warm congratulations.

The days leading up to the wedding were the busiest. Jiang Yun temporarily stayed at Aunt Xu’s house, following village custom that the bride and groom must not see each other in the days before the wedding, as it is considered unlucky. Aunt Xu’s family had a young boy named Zhu, who was even younger than Jiang Yun. The two talked endlessly, and Jiang Yun did not feel awkward around him.

Jiang Yun was skilled at embroidery. During these days, she locked herself in a room and practiced stitching flowers with some leftover fabric from the Xu family. The blossoms she created were vivid and lifelike. Aunt Xu was full of praise and even tugged Zhu’s ear, urging him to learn embroidery from Jiang Yun.

Zhu had big, bright eyes and spoke with lively wit, which Jiang Yun liked very much. Out of gratitude for the Xu family’s help, Jiang Yun taught Zhu embroidery with dedication. Zhu learned quickly, mastering the basics in just a few days.

Usually, a young woman would embroider her own wedding dress before marriage. But Liu Guihua never prepared a dress for Jiang Yun—not even a single stitch was visible.

Despite it being Jiang Yun’s wedding, the Jiang family’s doors and windows remained tightly shut, showing no concern. Liu Guihua was one thing, but Jiang Shunde, her biological father, was indifferent as well, revealing their true nature to the villagers.

Was it because they dared not ask the Gu family for the bride price, or feared the accompanying gifts?

The wedding dress was actually arranged by Zhang Cuilan, who took Gu Chengwu to the fabric shop in town. A variety of fruits and delicacies were not forgotten either.

“This marriage came rather suddenly, but we can’t let your important life event be neglected. A wedding must be grand and dignified, so neither you nor your groom will be slighted,” Zhang Cuilan said.

The villagers were poor, but their spirit was not. Even those with little money would never be careless when it came to weddings.

Gu Chengwu knew nothing about these matters and left everything to Zhang Cuilan. The red cloth used was of good quality—soft and gentle to the skin, adorned with elegant, tasteful patterns. One bolt cost five hundred wen.

Aunt Xu clicked her tongue. “Though it’s a wedding dress, it’s only used once. Isn’t that too expensive? Why not buy something cheaper and save the money for daily expenses?” Five hundred wen was a significant sum; few villagers within a dozen miles would dare spend so much. Only her nephew, who worked as a bookkeeper in town, could afford to be so generous when preparing for a wedding.

The fabric certainly matched its price. Suddenly, Gu Chengwu’s mind flashed to Jiang Yun’s image—thin and frail, with a small face always bearing a restrained expression, softly crying in a timid voice. He had never seen anyone cry so much.

Moved by the thought, his lips parted, and without hesitation he said, “This one. No changes.”

Once he spoke, Zhang Cuilan and Aunt Xu said nothing further. They asked the shopkeeper to package it up and take it away.

Five hundred wen was no small amount. At first, the shopkeeper looked down on them as simple villagers, expecting them to haggle like farmers. But selling such a large sum in one go made him beam, and he even threw in some needles and thread as a gift.

After leaving the shop, they went to the fruit store. Treating guests with sweets was a must on the wedding day. Zhang Cuilan and Aunt Xu carefully picked out treats. “There will be many children that day, and children love sweets. We must buy plenty.”

The more children at the wedding, the better—it symbolized future blessings and many offspring. The fruit store offered dozens of kinds of candy, dazzling the pickers. Gu Chengwu stood back, handling payment and carrying the goods.

Passing by the firecracker shop, Zhang Cuilan even spent her own money to buy firecrackers. Firecrackers were precious; even town families rarely bought many. But since this was her godson’s wedding, and she had lost her own son, he was her only support. No expense was too great.

When Gu Chengwu first came to Qingmiao Village, besides giving Zhang Cuilan thirty taels, he had sixty taels himself. Gradually, he earned eight taels from hunting and working in town. Then Jiang Yun fell ill, costing ten taels, and with wedding expenses, only fifty taels remained.

For villagers, fifty taels was a considerable sum, but Gu Chengwu felt it was far from enough. If he wanted to build a grand brick house someday, fifty taels would vanish in the blink of an eye.

The wedding tables were rented from the village’s old carpenter—five wen per table per day, a reasonable price.

As for the wedding feast, ordinary families served eight dishes and a soup, while those slightly better off offered five meat and five vegetable dishes. The hired cook had planned accordingly, but since the Gu family hunted for a living, meat was never lacking.

Zhang Cuilan, thinking ahead, said, “You and Yun have suffered slander these past few days. The feast must not be shabby; it must be grand to silence those tongues.”

Gu Chengwu had been hunting in the mountains recently, keeping the hares and pheasants he caught to prepare dishes rather than sell.

“All according to godmother’s plan,” he said. Military matters were his specialty, but household affairs were foreign to him. Still, he understood the wisdom in Zhang Cuilan’s words.

In the end, they settled on ten dishes and one soup—seven meat and three vegetable dishes, including rabbit, chicken, and pork. Even the vegetables were freshly picked cucumber leaves from the fields, definitely not wild herbs thrown together.

On the wedding day, half the village gathered. Zhang Cuilan had arranged for Aunt Xu, Zhang Xiulan, and five or six other women and their husbands to be busy in the kitchen, chopping, cooking, and dividing tasks clearly.

In the front yard, the men sat at nine or ten tables, gathering with familiar faces to chat. Upon seeing Gu Chengwu, they cheerfully congratulated him, then boasted loudly and insisted on drinking.

“It’s done! The auspicious hour has arrived! Let’s harness the horses to fetch the groom!”

Everyone’s eyes widened. Horses were rare, costing at least a dozen taels. Some had never even seen a horse, only donkeys. Now they jostled to get a better look.

The chestnut stallion was brought out—a magnificent beast taller than a grown man.

Gu Chengwu was tall and strong, his legs gripping the horse’s flanks firmly. His sharp brows and bright eyes softened from their usual cold and indifferent gaze, revealing a faint smile.

At a glance, he looked just like a handsome young general from a storybook.

Most villagers were illiterate and couldn’t find words to praise him, only applauding and congratulating incessantly.

Some were green with envy, thinking that if they had known Gu Chengwu’s family was so well-off, they would have introduced their daughters to him. But it was too late now; their jealousy was left to simmer in silence.

Just as they were about to leave, Li Si arrived.

“Congratulations, big brother! Happy wedding!” Li Si’s voice boomed.

To show support, he wore new clothes and brought several of his men, carrying bundle after bundle of gifts.

“We’re family—no need for formalities. Come in,” Gu Chengwu said. He and Li Si shared a bond deeper than words; a glance was enough to understand.

Li Si smiled and clasped his hands. “Courtesy must be observed. If the county magistrate hadn’t just called me away on urgent business, I’d have brought even more gifts to honor you properly.”

The villagers grew louder, hearing that Li Si worked for the county magistrate and was a man of some importance. The village chief nodded silently, recognizing his promising future.

With Li Si leading the way, Gu Chengwu rode the chestnut horse and soon arrived at the Xu household.

Across the street, the Jiang family was eerily silent. Where the Xu and Gu homes buzzed with excitement, the Jiang house was cold and deserted. Since the night Gu Chengwu knocked out Jiang Shunde’s front teeth, leaving his mouth bloody, Jiang Shunde had nightmares at the mere mention of Gu Chengwu’s name.

The leg Gu Chengwu broke would likely plague Jiang Shunde for life, causing him to limp and lean on a wooden crutch.

He had thought of revenge, shouting that Jiang Mo knew people in town and could find connections to settle the score.

But just as he was about to act, news spread that even the county magistrate’s men had come for Gu Chengwu’s wedding. Terrified, Jiang Shunde dared not make a sound, hiding indoors and not daring to leave. Only Liu Guihua shouted insults at Jiang Yun, calling her a wild brat and little wretch, but when Jiang Shunde raised his hand to strike, she reluctantly fell silent.

At the Xu family’s door hung a red cloth. Inside, Zhu busily prepared Jiang Yun’s wedding dress, and they had even hired Aunt Quanfu to do her hair.

Aunt Quanfu was from neighboring Liangjia Village, called Aunt Liang. Her family was harmonious with many children; she was plump and always smiling, radiating joy.

With deft hands, Aunt Liang quickly styled Jiang Yun’s hair. Unlike women, the young boys had fewer hairstyles and ornaments to choose from—usually just a hairpin with a few small flowers.

“The groom is very lucky. Even though you just got married, your family has already sent a silver hairpin. Not many grooms receive such a gift,” Aunt Liang said, placing a peach blossom hairpin on Jiang Yun’s head. The addition seemed to breathe new life and beauty into him.

Jiang Yun stared at the silver hairpin, new and shining brightly in the sunlight. A pang of emotion welled up in his heart, reddening his eyes.

He had never thought he deserved such fine things in his life, but now, he suddenly felt supported.

Though still fearful of Gu Chengwu, he at least knew the path forward.

Zhu, with a face full of envy, looked at Jiang Yun and said bluntly, “My mother says clothes make the man. Brother Yun, with just a little dressing up, you’ve outshone all the boys in the village. Even without dressing up, you’d still be impossible to look away from.”

He spoke the truth. Jiang Yun had always been roughened by Liu Guihua, dressed in dusty, shabby clothes. Now, with his hair neatly combed and the silver pin in place, he glowed with vitality.

Free from the Jiang family’s shadow, Jiang Yun’s slightly widened apricot eyes sparkled with clarity. His expression was gentle, lips slightly parted, eyes shy yet captivating.

The wedding escort waited outside. When Aunt Xu came in, she almost didn’t recognize Jiang Yun.

Was this really the timid, shrinking Yun who always hung his head before? With just a little preparation, he outshone all the village boys. She cursed Liu Guihua inwardly; that cruel woman was truly despicable.

Such a fine boy, yet treated so badly.

On this joyous day, Aunt Xu didn’t want any bitterness and cast Liu Guihua aside like a rat or bug in a foul ditch. Smiling, she approached Jiang Yun.

“The auspicious hour has come, groom. It’s time to cover your veil and step outside.”

The red veil was draped over him, obscuring his vision. Once covered, it was a lifelong commitment.

Like waking from a dream, he suddenly felt as if he had risen from the depths of hell to the clouds above. His heart fluttered, still struggling to grasp the reality.

Outside, the drums and suona horns sounded, surrounded by the villagers’ congratulations and laughter.

Stepping out of the Xu courtyard, through the red veil, a pair of long, strong hands reached out. They were rough and calloused—likely from years of hunting—knobbly joints and prominent veins showing beneath.

Though the noise was deafening, Jiang Yun could hear his own breathing. His heart pounded fiercely. Carefully, he placed his hand in the outstretched one, until his fingertips were gently clasped.

The summer sun blazed overhead, and a mountain breeze whispered through the trees, stirring the strands of hair at Jiang Yun’s temples. Held steadily against a broad back, the scent of fresh soapberry lingered faintly at his nose.