Chapter Twenty: The Emperor’s Intentions, Shadows Beneath the Wall

What exactly was Emperor Xiaokang aiming for?

This was the question Han Fu pondered as he made his way to the bridal chamber. Piecing together the information he had, and considering his own circumstances, he could draw a tentative conclusion.

Emperor Xiaokang had always suppressed the aristocratic families. It followed, then, that what he had done to Han Fu was yet another tactic to weaken them. “To hear Your Majesty’s words is better than hearing Your Majesty’s words...” Han Fu mocked inwardly, but he understood that while his analysis mirrored the obvious, there was more beneath the surface.

Three days prior, the Zhou family had gone to great lengths to organize a poetry contest disguised as a marriage alliance. At first, Han Fu hadn’t known the reason behind it. But after staying at the mansion for three days and piecing together bits and pieces from Bai Li Mingda, the intentions of the Zhou and Qin families became clear. They sought to solidify an alliance through marriage, but to bypass Emperor Xiaokang’s interference, they staged the contest.

Han Fu’s unexpected appearance had disrupted their plans. Emperor Xiaokang was pleased to see this but grew wary of Han Fu as well. Seven poems, each a classic—such talent, if leveraged, would allow Han Fu to establish himself among scholars with ease. Han Fu’s rising fame would bring prestige and influence, and the Zhou family would be the direct beneficiary. In this sense, the Zhou family lost in one place but gained in another.

But this ran counter to Emperor Xiaokang’s intent to suppress the nobles and left room for manipulation. Thus, the emperor swiftly decreed the marriage, making Han Fu enter the Zhou family as a son-in-law.

The status of a live-in son-in-law was a shackle upon Han Fu. Even if the world recognized his unparalleled poetic talent, even if he were a god of poetry and verse incarnate, he could only linger on the fringes of the literary world, never truly accepted or celebrated. All because the role was a source of shame.

Unless Han Fu was truly extraordinary, able to break his chains by sheer force of will, he would never escape this fate. But the emperor deemed this as unlikely as reaching the heavens. Not just he—everyone thought the same. It was only natural.

As for tonight, when the emperor sent gifts, the reason was simple. He was sending Han Fu a signal: “I can make you a son-in-law without dignity, or I can raise you to glory in my service. Everything depends on a single word from your emperor.”

The message delivered by the chief eunuch Wang De was proof enough. Now, all depended on Han Fu’s choice.

Having thought it all through, Han Fu felt a sense of ease and couldn’t help but smile.

Emperor Xiaokang’s maneuvering was truly masterful.

There were three small courtyards in the west wing: Bai Li Mingda in the east, Bai Li Mingsu in the west, and the middle courtyard, once empty, now belonged to Han Fu.

Yet his courtyard was dark, as was Bai Li Mingda’s. At this moment, the moon was bright and the stars sparse, moonlight spilling down like liquid silver, highlighting the courtyard decorated with lanterns and bright red wedding emblems.

Passing through the arched gate, Han Fu walked straight to the main room, paused briefly at the door, then pushed it open and entered.

Creak... creak...

Opening and closing the door, Han Fu latched it behind him.

Inside, the room was brightly lit, newly decorated for the wedding, the lamplight bathing everything in festive red.

Dishes and wine were set on the table, mostly cold plates, for the couple to share during the nuptial rites.

Bai Li Mingsu, her head veiled in bright red, sat quietly on the edge of the bed, hands folded before her abdomen, unmoving.

She seemed calm at this moment; even as Han Fu approached, she remained perfectly still.

The jade ruyi scepter lay nearby. Han Fu picked it up, bringing it slowly toward the edge of her veil.

He was curious—what did Bai Li Mingsu, famed as one of Dingxing’s three beauties, truly look like?

As the ruyi lifted the veil, a delicate, luminous chin was revealed.

It was a slender, oval face—very beautiful, Han Fu concluded. Without further hesitation, he lifted the veil entirely.

What a breathtaking visage!

Han Fu was momentarily dazzled.

Delicate brows like brushstrokes, eyes shining like stars, a refined nose, lips like rosy petals. Flawless features arranged in perfect golden proportion upon a fair and exquisite face.

Her hair was coiled like ink, adorned with golden hairpins, her step-shake ornaments barely trembling, almost still.

Most striking of all was her inimitable aura—a unique air of wisdom that seemed to envelop her, utterly captivating.

Han Fu had to admit, even after a previous life spent surrounded by beauties in both reality and on screen, he was genuinely impressed.

Worthy indeed of her reputation as one of Dingxing’s three beauties—her looks alone surpassed anyone he’d ever seen, and when coupled with that singularly intellectual grace... Yet her aura was more than just intellectual.

For a moment, Han Fu found himself at a loss for words.

But having lived two lifetimes and faced life and death, he was not so easily swept away. In a breath, his gaze cleared.

Base thoughts did arise—for after all, he was no eunuch and had his desires—but they were instantly stifled.

Yet Bai Li Mingsu was watching him as well.

Their eyes met, and Han Fu saw nothing but tranquility in hers.

Not a trace of the shyness or nervousness one might expect from a new bride.

Her temperament was evident.

“Am I beautiful?” Bai Li Mingsu’s lips parted, her voice melodious.

Han Fu was not one to lie, so he smiled and replied, “Much prettier than Aunt Zhao.”

Aunt Zhao, of course, was the woman in monastic robes, rumored to have an affair with the abbot of Du’e Temple—nearly forty years old.

Bai Li Mingsu was taken aback.

She had anticipated many possible answers from Han Fu, but not this one.

Her composure surpassed most girls her age, but at seventeen, she retained a bit of girlishness.

She wanted to retort, but didn’t know how, for what Han Fu had said was, in fact, true.

So in her gaze, surprise was mixed with other emotions, hard to name.

She rose gracefully, the gold step-shake hairpin swinging in a gentle arc.

At the table, she filled two wine cups, took one in her slender hand, and gestured for Han Fu to take the other. Her voice was steady: “After we drink the nuptial wine, we shall be husband and wife.”

“From the moment we bowed to Heaven and Earth, we already were,” Han Fu said as he approached and took up his cup.

Moonlight poured in, tree shadows danced.

The doors and windows of the bridal chamber were tightly shut, sealing them from the outside world, silent and still.

Red candles flickered, casting two overlapping silhouettes upon the window paper.

Outside, someone crouched furtively beneath the window, ear pressed to the wall, trying to catch a sound—hearing nothing, he pressed closer, rump sticking out.

Inside, the room was momentarily silent.

Bai Li Mingsu’s eyelids fluttered, long dark lashes fanning up and down, her delicate brows occasionally knitting in thought.

Such an expression revealed her enchanting beauty in full, beyond compare.

Since Han Fu’s last words, she had remained thus for seven or eight breaths.

Han Fu gently swirled his wine cup, pondering, and began to study Bai Li Mingsu’s countenance openly and without hesitation.