But that was already a lifetime ago...
That year, during the Lantern Festival.
Zong Zhao, now twenty-four, had awakened from a seven-year coma and returned to the capital for a year. Yet, after enduring the pain of losing his younger brother, he had become even more reticent than before.
The Old Marchioness watched him with aching heart. "Zhao'er, go out and enjoy yourself. I heard this year's Lantern Festival lanterns are especially grand, all to celebrate you and the Crown Prince cracking the Dance Hall case. You should see them—see the joy you’ve brought to the people. It’ll give you strength to keep going."
Zong Zhao didn’t want to go.
With the arrogant Luo Jingfeng breathing down their necks and the Crown Prince frail in health, all his energy was devoted to helping His Highness overthrow the Luo family. He had no time for frivolity.
But his mother... she was nearly in tears from worry.
Zong Zhao thought of Zong Yan again.
When his younger brother was alive, he would have pestered their mother with playful antics, never letting her grieve like this. Now that Zong Yan was gone, it fell to him to shoulder that duty.
Zong Zhao stood. "I’ll take a stroll."
The Old Marchioness brightened at once. "Good, good! I’ll have Steward Liu accompany you. He knows the capital’s affairs best and can tell you all about the festival’s delights."
"Mm."
Zong Zhao stepped outside, listening as the ever-knowledgeable Steward Liu expounded on customs and gossip. But his mind wandered, standing adrift in the surging crowd, enveloped by boundless solitude.
Nearby, a vendor’s voice suddenly rose in praise. "What a clever young lady! You’ve guessed another riddle correctly! This tenth lantern is yours!"
A girl’s laughter followed. "I’m just showing off. I’ll take this red one—you can keep the rest. Wishing you thriving business!"
"Ah, such kindness! You understand the struggles of us common folk. Here, take this rabbit lantern too—that red one’s too plain."
"No need, I like red. It makes me happy."
"Very well! Next year, come back to my stall. I’ll prepare a red rabbit lantern just for you—you’ll surely solve its riddle."
"Then I’ll thank you in advance!"
Listening to their exchange, Zong Zhao imagined the soft-spoken voice belonged to some noble daughter. But when he turned—
The girl wore no makeup, her attire simple and unadorned, with barely any jewelry. Yet her clean profile glowed like moonlight, carrying an air of quiet intellect and warm vitality.
Holding her plain red lantern, she stood at the bridge’s edge, eyes crinkled in a smile. Lifting the lantern to the moon, she murmured as if alone in the world:
"‘Blossoms of fire merge with silver light, the iron locks of Star Bridge swing wide. Dust follows horses into the night, the bright moon chases footsteps in stride...’ How fitting."
A maid’s scolding voice cut in from afar. "Miss, why must you wander off? If you get lost, the mistress will punish us again! Must you only care when it’s your own neck on the line?"
The girl hurried down the bridge with an apologetic "Coming, coming! I didn’t go far—sorry for worrying you."
The maid huffed. "Next time you run off, I’ll tell the mistress to leave you home! And what’s that in your hand? Ugly thing—throw it away!"
The red lantern was tossed to the ground, kicked and trampled by passersby until it was filthy within moments.
Zong Zhao walked over, crouched, and picked it up.
Simple.
Not even a pattern.
Steward Liu tactfully offered, "Does the Young Marquis fancy a lantern? This one’s soiled—let this servant buy you a new one? An identical one?"
"No need."
Zong Zhao brushed the lantern as if dusting it off. Steward Liu promptly handed him a handkerchief for a proper clean.
The grimy lantern was wiped spotless—plain, unassuming.
And carried home by Zong Zhao.
The Old Marchioness soon noticed something amiss. After hearing Steward Liu’s account, her eyes lit up, and she urged him to investigate the girl’s identity. Only then did Steward Liu realize—the Young Marquis hadn’t taken interest in the lantern!
But the news was disheartening. Steward Liu regretfully reported, "Old Marchioness, the young lady is the eldest daughter of Minister Xu, named Xu Wan. She’s eighteen and recently betrothed to the eldest son of Duke Jin’s Manor, Chen Yunyu. Their wedding is set for the eighth of next month."
"What?" The Old Marchioness felt the sky might as well have fallen.
Her eldest son had remained unwed all these years. Finally, a girl who stirred his heart—and she was already promised! This... this...
The Old Marquis instructed Steward Liu, "Don’t mention this to Zhao’er. Perhaps he thought nothing of it—just liked that red lantern."
The Old Marchioness wished it were so. But when she glanced up, she saw Zong Zhao at the doorway, his expression unreadable.
Flustered, she asked, "Zhao’er, you—you’re here? Did you need something?"
Zong Zhao replied, "His Highness has tasked me with duties at the City Patrol Office. I’ll be away for some time—came to inform you."
"Oh! Of course, go ahead. We’ll manage here," she said hastily.
Zong Zhao nodded and left.
The Old Marchioness swallowed hard. "Do you think... he heard us?"
The Old Marquis sighed. "...I believe he did."
"What do we do? The Xu girl isn’t wed yet—should we... intervene?"
The Old Marquis twitched. "We’re a marquis’ household, not bandits. ‘Intervene’ how? Besides, Zhao’er showed no reaction. You must’ve misread him—since when does he fall for anyone at first sight?"
"I... just had a feeling..." The Old Marchioness wavered.
On the eighth of the second month, Zong Zhao remained at the City Patrol Office.
The wedding of Duke Jin’s heir was a grand affair, with even many patrol officers attending the feast.
After discussing official matters, the Patrol Commander casually remarked on the day’s most celebrated groom: "That Chen Yunyu—good family, impeccable character, already a fourth-rank official at his young age. Half the noble daughters in the capital longed to marry him. They say he was too picky, never found a match until last winter’s plum-viewing banquet at his estate. Then—love at first sight with this bride. Though I hear the Xu girl isn’t some peerless beauty. Makes you wonder if the ‘love at first sight’ tale is just gossip."
They couldn’t comprehend it.
But Zong Zhao knew—it wasn’t gossip.
The girl beneath the moonlight, lantern in hand—though not possessing devastating beauty—had carried a soothing gentleness that disarmed hearts effortlessly.
Only... she’d married another.
And the man she married was worthy.
Zong Zhao thought,
Perhaps it’s for the best. As long as she’s happy.
The wine jug on the table gradually emptied. The tender crescent moon, once bright, slowly vanished behind gathering clouds.
