By the time she finished dressing, the sky had already brightened.
Suddenly, the lively sounds of firecrackers and drums erupted outside.
Xia Zhu rushed in, her voice brimming with excitement: "The groom has arrived! He’s already at the mansion gates!"
The room immediately buzzed with activity as maids and matrons sprang into action.
"Quickly, quickly! Put on the veil first! Where’s the red silk? Bring it at once!"
"Escort the young lady to the front hall first."
Amid the flurry of commotion, the crowd ushered Sang Ning toward the front courtyard.
Meanwhile, the entrance of the mansion was abuzz with excitement.
All of the capital knew that today, the young General He, who had risen to fame after a single battle, was taking a bride. Curious onlookers had gathered in droves.
He Siyu, clad in a crimson wedding robe with a red silk flower pinned to his chest, rode proudly atop a tall horse as he paraded through the streets.
Though he disliked such flamboyant attire, today was a joyous occasion—the vibrant red suited the festivities.
By the time he reached the gates of the Xie Mansion, the crowd had swelled to a standstill. Fusheng scattered a handful of copper coins and wedding candies, prompting a scramble among the spectators and finally clearing a path.
With long strides, He Siyu approached the entrance, where several Xie family young masters stood blocking the way. He clasped his hands in greeting. "Gentlemen, I humbly ask for passage."
"And why should you marry my elder sister?" The speaker was the third young master of the Xie family, Xie Zhuo.
Only sixteen and barely reaching He Siyu’s shoulders, he stood on the steps, tilting his chin up defiantly. Despite his youth, his tone carried conviction.
He Siyu studied the boy playing at being a grown man—still more tolerable than Nan Muchen.
"Naturally, I seek her hand with sincere devotion."
Xie Zhuo swallowed, feeling an invisible pressure bearing down on him. His voice softened slightly. "Then… you must treat her well."
He Siyu arched a brow. "That goes without saying."
After another round of boisterous teasing, He Siyu distributed red envelopes, and the crowd finally parted.
The gate-blocking was merely ceremonial—at this critical juncture, the Xie family was even more eager for the wedding to proceed.
He Siyu strode into the front hall, where someone promptly announced, "The young General He has arrived!"
The First Lady and Lord Xie sat solemnly in the main hall, straightening their robes as they watched the young man approach.
He bowed respectfully. "Greetings to Lord Xie and Madam Xie."
Lord Xie nodded in delight. "Excellent, excellent. Have the young lady brought out at once."
Soon, the maids and matrons escorted Sang Ning inside.
He Siyu turned to look. She was draped in an elaborate crimson wedding gown, its train sweeping the floor, her face hidden beneath the veil. All he could see were her delicate, jade-like hands, folded gracefully at her waist, holding one end of a red silk ribbon.
The wedding matron handed him the other end, chuckling. "Hold tight, groom."
As she stepped closer to him, he tightened his grip on the silk ribbon, his heartbeat quickening involuntarily.
Lord Xie spoke earnestly. "Sang Ning, now that you are to be wed, you must no longer act willfully. Be gentle, virtuous, and devoted to your husband. May you share a harmonious life together."
Sang Ning gave a slight nod. "I understand."
He Siyu echoed, "Understood."
Madam Xie’s eyes reddened as she took Sang Ning’s hand. "Be prudent in words and deeds. Do not act rashly. If anything troubles you, remember to send word to your parents."
Sang Ning squeezed her hand. "I will, Mother."
The First Lady wiped her tears and finally released her grip. There was little left to say—every admonition and blessing had already been repeated countless times.
From now on, the path ahead would be hers to walk alone.
"Go now."
He Siyu bowed once more, and Sang Ning dipped into a curtsy.
Then, hand in hand via the red silk ribbon, they were ushered out of the hall by the attendants.
Lord Xie watched Sang Ning depart, his aged eyes glistening. "That child has always been so sensible. I hope she won’t suffer any mistreatment after leaving home."
The First Lady glanced at him, her damp eyes devoid of warmth. "Since when does the lord concern himself with such worries?"
Lord Xie exhaled heavily. "Yanyang is our firstborn. I even personally taught her to read. How could I not worry?"
The first child, born under their greatest hopes, would always hold a special place.
The First Lady lowered her gaze, her lips curling faintly in silent mockery.
—
The bridal sedan was lifted once more. He Siyu swung onto his horse, a faint smile playing on his lips. "To the manor."
Amid the clamor of drums and gongs, the wedding procession made its lively return to the He residence.
"The bride has arrived!"
Servants cheered as firecrackers crackled at the estate gates.
Inside the sedan, Sang Ning felt it come to a gentle halt.
The curtain was lifted, and a flood of light poured in. Beneath her veil, she glimpsed a slender, well-defined hand reaching toward her.
Her lips pressed together briefly before she lifted her own hand from her lap and placed it in his palm.
His fingers closed around hers, warm and firm, as he guided her out of the sedan.
He walked slowly, as if deliberately matching her pace.
Blinded by the veil and surrounded by the din of celebration, she could neither see nor discern direction—she could only trust his lead.
Her fingers twitched slightly in his grasp, unaccustomed to the contact.
But he didn’t release her. Instead, his hold tightened.
Xia Zhu and the other maids followed closely behind.
Xiangcao stole a glance at the young general. From her position, she could only catch his striking profile when he turned to look at Sang Ning.
Her eyes flickered with renewed longing. The dashed hopes from the failed engagement with the Heir of the Duke of Ning reignited—this young General He was no less remarkable.
How fortunate the eldest young lady was.
"The bride is here! Time for the wedding rites!" the matron announced joyfully.
The hall was packed with guests. He Wanjun and Lady Guo sat at the head, awaiting them.
He Siyu led Sang Ning to the center of the hall. Glancing down at her hand in his, he reluctantly released it—she withdrew instantly.
"Bow to heaven and earth!"
"Bow to the parents!"
"Husband and wife bow to each other!"
"Rites completed! To the bridal chamber!"
Amid another uproar, they were swept into the wedding chamber.
His courtyard had been transformed—adorned in jubilant red. The matron scattered dates, peanuts, and longans across the bed, chanting blessings all the while.
Strangely, the noise didn’t bother him. His smile never faded as he guided her to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Sang Ning," he murmured, leaning close to her veil.
The intimate address made her stiffen—this scoundrel had called her that the very first time they met.
She tried to pull her hand free, but he held fast.
Cradling her fingers, he gazed at the veil, his voice softening into a whisper.
"Yanyang."
