The Betrothal

Water dripped steadily through the leaky roof, and the chamber was damp and cold. Beside the dim bed stood an incongruously exquisite folding screen, its surface covered in golden script depicting rules for women and admonitions for daughters.

The wedding gown, heavy with jewels and ornate embroidery, had been discarded on the floor like so much rubbish.

Two days and two nights.

Zhou Yao had been locked away here for two days and two nights ever since she defied her father the Emperor's decree to marry the Qi family's good-for-nothing eldest son.

The Qi family's merit overshadowed the throne itself; Zhou Yao's marriage into the Qi clan was nothing but a pawn the Emperor wielded to keep them in check.

If she didn't eat soon, she might very well starve to death in this desolate hall.

Those cursed servants were nothing but sycophants who treated people according to their station. Every meal they'd brought over these days consisted of nothing but rancid swill. She was weak with hunger—though she'd never been well-treated growing up, never had it been this bad.

The pattering rain outside muffled the approaching footsteps. The ramshackle door creaked open as someone pushed it.

"Ninth Princess, His Majesty sent this servant to ask how your recitation of the rules for women is coming along. He also bid me check whether your heart has softened any."

The chief eunuch was followed by four or five maids and two lesser eunuchs. The maids each carried baskets covered with red cloth, their contents unknown.

Zhou Yao gave a contemptuous snort. "Wretched creatures! How dare you treat me like this!"

A crisp slap landed across Zhou Yao's cheek.

The chief eunuch signaled the maids behind him with a look. "You'd do well to carefully consider this marriage to Young Master Qi. You wouldn't want to suffer unnecessarily and then blame this old servant afterward. His Majesty is the Son of Heaven; his words are law and cannot be withdrawn."

The maid behind the chief eunuch was built like a wrestler. She pinned Zhou Yao down into a kneeling position on the floor.

The damp ground bit into Zhou Yao's bones with a chill that stung. Her head hung low, hiding the sinister glint in her eyes.

"These are the finest instructresses in the palace. From now on, they will oversee your wedding ceremony training. You must master it by the eighth of next month, Your Highness."

The lead instructress stepped forward holding a wooden board, her cunning eyes fixed squarely on Zhou Yao.

"Ninth Princess, this servant has been commanded to instruct you in your wedding rites. I ask that you apply yourself diligently."

Zhou Yao, still forced to her knees, lowered her head and concealed the sharpness in her gaze, enduring the pain through gritted teeth. "Thank you for your trouble, madam."

This was not the best time for revenge.

Holding the same position for so long made her limbs tremble involuntarily.

The instructress carried herself with arrogant authority, and as she turned, Zhou Yao caught sight of what was in their baskets.

The first basket held a whip studded with barbs.

The second held a porcelain bowl filled with fresh blood.

The third held ash water from burned talismans.

...

Those horrific, chilling instruments of torture made cold sweat break out all over her. Zhou Yao struggled against her restraints, but couldn't break free. All she could do was furrow her brow and snap, "Get off me! I'm still a princess no matter what. Do you dare torture me?!"

One of the eunuchs picked up the whip, dipped it in the dog's blood, and made as if to lash her.

Zhou Yao had no doubt that one strike to her back from that whip would take half her life. If she let these servants beat her a few more times, her death anniversary would come within days.

The chief eunuch spoke coolly, mocking her. "This old servant's heart is in the right place. In this world, no parent would harm their own child. Just yield a little, Your Highness. This old servant will report back to His Majesty today. Once you and Young Master Qi are wed, you'll still be a noble princess."

A bitter, metallic taste of blood spread across her cracked lips. Through her daze, Zhou Yao saw a figure silhouetted against the window paper from outside.

The door was kicked open by a guard, revealing a handsome-faced man being supported as he stood behind them.

His features were elegant but haggard, his face utterly devoid of color. Sickly as he appeared, anyone would think a gust of wind might blow him over.

"This one wandered here by mistake, never expecting to disturb Your Highness." His voice was gentle, yet the words he spoke slowly carried an air of authority.

"Oh my~ Prime Minister Qi, what brings you here?" The chief eunuch's demeanor turned instantly obsequious at the sight of Qi Yanhan. "You and Her Highness are soon to be wed! And you came all the way to this foul place? Ninth Princess, no need to kneel any longer, get yourself cleaned up and rise."

The hands restraining Zhou Yao released her. She collapsed to the ground, the sudden slack making her fall; stones scraped her cheek, leaving it covered in a web of tiny cuts.

While no one was watching, she crouched in a corner, her watery phoenix eyes flashing with venom—unaware that Qi Yanhan had been observing her all along.

The chief eunuch signaled one of the maids to take Zhou Yao away, then turned back with a fawning smile. "The Prime Minister jests. Today His Majesty granted you special leave to visit the Empress Dowager—why ever would you come to a place like this? Best hurry on your way and not soil your noble person."

"The chief eunuch is the one joking. The Ninth Princess is, after all, this one's betrothed wife. Whether or not we marry, we share the bond of childhood friends." Qi Yanhan smiled lightly, but the smile did not reach his eyes—there was no sincerity in it at all.

The chief eunuch froze where he stood. The maids dropped to their knees in terror, stammering, unable to form a response.

His eyes darted about, and he forced an awkward laugh. "The Prime Minister jests. Palace rules are strict; it's common for a mischievous princess to receive punishment. Since you've interceded on her behalf today, we'll let it go at that."

Supported by his guard, the man stepped into the hall. He was still smiling, but his voice came out cold as he warned, "Since you serve in this palace, keep your eyes wide open at all times and see clearly who your true master is."

"Mind the head on your shoulders."

Qi Yanhan drew a handkerchief from his bosom and meticulously wiped his fingers. "Duyun. Deal with it," he instructed the guard beside him.

"No, please, no, Milord Qi! This servant has elders above and children below, I can't—"

Before the words finished, the instructress who had been making such a racket was silenced by a single sword stroke from the guard who'd received the order.

Blood splattered on the ground. Qi Yanhan walked over to Zhou Yao and helped her up with one hand, saying, "The ground is cold and damp, Your Highness. Get up quickly and don't catch a chill."

The man's voice was as pleasant as mountain spring water—a stark contrast to how he was rumored to be.

She found herself staring at his face, momentarily dazed.

"Thank you, Young Master Qi."

Zhou Yao moved to bow, but the man stopped her. A warm smile filled his fox-like eyes, and she thought she could even catch the scent of sandalwood on him.

"Your Highness holds a noble station. This one is unworthy of such courtesy."

She glanced at the instructress now lying dead beside her, and at the maids who had watched from the sidelines.

"Young Master Qi must have pressing matters to attend to. Please don't let me keep you—I still have some belongings to gather." Her eyelashes trembled slightly, affecting the manner of a frightened young lady.

Before he left, Qi Yanhan cast one meaningful look back at her.

"That presumptuous servant." Zhou Yao's cold, venomous gaze swept over the still-warm corpse of the instructress.

Since the woman was dead already, she might as well serve some purpose.

She felt along the inside of the instructress's sleeve and retrieved the palace-exit pass, tucking it carefully away. After double-checking it was secure, Zhou Yao rose to her feet.

When she emerged from the hall, Qi Yanhan was standing beneath the sole ginkgo tree in the courtyard. Its leaves grew thick and lush, and he stood with his back to her.

"You saw all that?" A dangerous smile curled at the corner of Zhou Yao's mouth, her wide sleeve concealing the silver hairpin in her hand.

Sure enough, the man turned around and nodded.

As their eyes met, each read the calculation in the other's gaze.

The sharp silver pin pressed against the man's neck. He didn't dodge, and his guards made no move to intervene.

"Aren't you afraid I'll silence you?"

"No."

Qi Yanhan's smile never faded. In fact, the deep sandalwood scent of him filled Zhou Yao's nostrils.

"Why?"

"Because this one believes Your Highness is not the sort to forget a kindness."

Zhou Yao frowned and pressed the silver pin deeper into the man's flesh. Thin threads of blood seeped out around it.

"Your Highness doesn't care for me?" His gentle, affable manner was nothing like the dissolute reprobate he was rumored to be.

"Don't change the subject. Tell me—did you hear everything?"

He suddenly bent down at the waist. Afraid she might actually hurt him, Zhou Yao's arm holding the pin bent involuntarily with his movement.

"Yes. And what does Your Highness intend to do about it?"

"Silence you, of course."

The man's face was barely two fingers' breadth from hers. "Your Highness is my not-yet-formally-wedded wife. If I can win my lady's heart, this one will gladly comply."

"Nonsense!" Zhou Yao shoved Qi Yanhan away, her cheeks flushed red, and shot him a disgusted look.

Seeing how he'd transformed from the grave, proper gentleman of moments ago into this, she decided to take her leave first.

Rounding the corner, she thought: old fox. All bark and no bite.

Layers of crimson gauze curtains hung in folds, and beaded screens clinked without cease as palace attendants bustled to and fro. An auspicious day it was, with drums and gongs resounding to the heavens, and here and there in the halls glittering glass ornaments added to the festive air.

Only Zhou Yao sat alone in the chamber, not a trace of a smile on her face.

Her goal was nearly within reach. And now that success was close, she felt a small pang of softness in her heart.

She nodded without any surprise and looked at Ling Long in the mirror, asking, "You're truly willing?"

Ling Long bent down and helped Zhou Yao out of her bright red outer robe, nodding.

Her powder and rouge were smeared by tears. Zhou Yao took her hand and squeezed it. "No matter what, once you're out of the palace, do exactly as I told you. Find a faraway place and never come back to Chang'an."

From outside came the officiant's shrill voice ringing out.

The auspicious hour has arrived—!

A palace attendant's urging came from the doorway. "Please accompany this servant to the front hall at once, Your Highness, to bid farewell to His Majesty and Her Majesty the Empress. Do not delay the auspicious hour."

Zhou Yao's phoenix eyes flickered slightly as she gave Ling Long a brief glance.

Ling Long caught the signal at once. Raising her voice, she snapped at the one outside the door, "Her Highness is of noble, precious bearing! Today is full of complicated affairs; even if she's a bit slow, you servants have no business rushing her!"

That person's arrogance was extinguished on the spot.

Zhou Yao said quietly to Ling Long, "It's all on you now."

The wedding procession was sparse—only a handful of people, nowhere near the numbers that usually accompanied nobles leaving the palace on ordinary days.

Bells and books, jewels and jade—none of them were there. But nuptial couplets were pasted in abundance, and every pavilion and tower was hung with great red curtains.

The wedding procession stood in orderly ranks before the main hall.

"Your child bids farewell to Father and Mother today, and wishes them well in the days to come." A delicate, weak voice came from behind a feather fan.

But no one knew that the woman behind the fan had long since been switched for the maidservant Ling Long.

Zhou Yao wanted those men to see that women, in this world where people devoured one another, could carve out a place of their own too.

The wedding robes were hastily discarded. She changed into the garments of the attending maids, kept her head down, and slipped out of the palace along with the crowd.

The Qi manor wasn't far from the imperial city—it would take no time at all to reach it. Of all the households in Chang'an, only the Qi family enjoyed such a privilege.

Seeing that if she didn't get away now, she'd lose her chance, Zhou Yao realized the city was in chaos—the people had no means to live, and the streets were all a mess.

Assassins who had been lying in ambush struck all at once. In the span of a few breaths, cold glints of steel flashed.

Zhou Yao couldn't dodge in time. A blade slashed across her shoulder, and searing pain shot through her from the wound.

"This is a princess's wedding procession! Who dares—!" Hidden in the crowd, Zhou Yao pressed her hand over the wound and shouted.

To her shock, an arrow whizzed past her hair ornament.

That was a warning for her.

A sudden idea struck Zhou Yao. She ran to the carriage up ahead.

Inside the carriage, Ling Long's eyes showed undisguised worry for her.

Zhou Yao reassured her. "Change into ordinary clothes later and get out of here. Don't lose your life because of me."

"Your Highness..."

"No time to hesitate." Zhou Yao pulled Ling Long's indentured servant contract from her waist and handed it to her.

Once Ling Long had changed, the two slipped into a small alley amid the chaos.

Yet in the alley, someone was already waiting.

"This one is Qi Yanhan. Greetings to the Ninth Princess." The man's fox-like eyes brimmed with a smile, as if he bore goodwill toward everyone.