Chapter 2 — Wedding Hall, No Groom

The noisy crowd automatically parted, leaving a clear path down the center. A figure stepped inward against the glaring light. He wore a dark red imperial robe embroidered with golden cranes—the unmistakable symbol of a top-ranking civil official of the current dynasty. His hair was meticulously gathered, a few threads of silver gleaming brightly amidst the flickering candlelight. Upon that stern, commanding face, utterly devoid of any expression, rested an absolute calm. It was my father. The reigning Grand Tutor, Shen Jing. He did not glance at the gaping, wide-eyed guests, nor at the fruit peels scattered all over the floor, and he did not even spare a look at the empty groom’s chair sitting prominently at the head of the hall. His gaze, from the very moment he crossed the threshold, locked entirely onto me. Cutting through the throngs of people, cutting through the mockery, cutting through every trace of my humiliation and wretchedness. He strode forward until he stood right before me, and there he stopped.

The wedding hall was so quiet that one could distinctly hear the crackling of the burning candles. Everyone held their breath, eager to see how the Grand Tutor would handle this disaster. Would he scold his daughter for her lack of sense? Or would he swallow his pride for the sake of the general’s estate and try to patch things together? My father said nothing at all. He merely raised his hand—the very hand that had once taught me how to write and play Go, and had guided the grand affairs of the court with a wave—and steadily, gently lifted the heavy red veil from my head. The moment the veil fell away, the tears I had suppressed for hours finally broke loose, rolling silently down my cheeks. I looked into my father’s eyes. Those eyes, which had perused countless official memorials and understood the deepest intricacies of the human heart, held no reprimand, no disappointment; there was only a boundless, surging sea of profound heartache.

My dearest child, his voice was as steady as ever, yet tinged with an unprecedented, raw hoarseness, come home with your father.

Five words. They struck my heart with a crushing weight, far more powerful than ten thousand comforting phrases. I could finally hold back no longer, and my tears poured forth like a broken spring. He did not say anything more; instead, he simply turned around, faced the guards of the Shen estate standing at attention behind him, and issued his second command. His voice was not loud, yet it echoed clearly through the entire wedding hall.

Take every single piece of the young lady’s dowry and bring it all back to the estate, leaving not a single item behind.

Understood!

The unison response thundered with formidable momentum. They sprang into action at once, hoisting up every single redwood chest adorned with double-happiness characters and carrying them out into the open air. Their movements were decisive, entirely devoid of hesitation. The guests gathered in the hall were completely stunned. This was not merely managing the aftermath; this was an utter demolition! A mile-long procession of crimson dowry gifts, carried back intact—this was far more violent and stinging than a physical slap across the face in front of a crowd. It was a declaration to the entire capital: the daughter of the Shen family is no longer marrying into this household. I followed closely behind my father, stepping out of the wedding hall one stride at a time. As I crossed the grand threshold of that banquet hall, my spine straightened once more, unyielding as a sharp sword. The biting wind dried the tears upon my cheeks, and blew away the very last shred of the foolish hope I had harbored for Xiao Huai. From the northern district to the southern district, as magnificent as the arrival had been, just as resolute and absolute was the departure. That entire stretch of crimson-carpeted road resembled a long, bleeding wound, deeply and permanently carved into the dusk of the imperial capital.

When we returned to the Grand Tutor’s residence, night had completely fallen. Not a single lamp was lit within the estate; the servants stood in silent rows along both sides, not even daring to breathe too loudly. Father dismissed everyone present and personally escorted me to my private chambers. Everything inside the room remained exactly as it had been before I left to be married; upon the table still rested the unfinished volume of scriptures I had been copying. It was as if the earth-shattering wedding scandal of the daytime had merely been an absurd, feverish dream. Father poured me a cup of warm tea, watching quietly as I took small, hesitant sips.

You need not take today’s events to heart, he began, breaking the heavy silence, the fault does not lie with you.

I clutched the warm teacup and gently shook my head.

Father, I committed no wrong, yet I have become the laughingstock of the entire capital.

A laughingstock? The corners of his mouth curled into a chilling, merciless smile, whichever wretch dares to laugh will find themselves permanently unable to ever smile again. The daughter of me, Shen Jing, even if she never takes a husband, will have someone to protect her for the rest of her days. No one shall ever dare to bully her.

His words brought a faint, much-needed warmth back to my frozen heart. Yet I knew full well that the situation was far from simple.

The Xiao family are the foremost military generals wielding immense military authority. If we act thus...

Military authority? Father let out a cold, cynical laugh, a flash of razor-sharp acumen gleaming in his eyes that I had never witnessed before, military authority is bestowed by His Majesty, not owned by the Xiao family. A man who can abandon his bride at his own wedding ceremony for the sake of another woman can just as easily abandon his sovereign when other temptations arise. A man of such character—does His Majesty truly dare to keep him and rest easy?

I instantly comprehended the underlying meaning of my father's words. This matter was no longer merely about the pride and dignity of two prominent clans. It had evolved into a political pawn—a piece capable of being cast onto the grand chessboard of imperial statecraft. That night, I shed my heavy, burdensome bridal garments, changed into ordinary everyday clothes, and remained entirely mute. The following morning, the news had already spread throughout the entire capital.

Young lady! Young lady! Xiaotao, my loyal personal maid, rushed breathlessly into the room, the general... General Xiao is kneeling outside the gates of the estate!

My hand, currently smoothing through my hair, abruptly froze in place.

Since when?

Word has it he galloped back in a frenzy last night! Upon returning to his own general’s estate, he discovered the bridal chambers were completely empty, with both the bride and the entire dowry vanished without a trace, and only then did he panic. The servants in his household are whispering that the old general was so furious he immediately invoked military law, ordering him to be beaten with several dozen heavy staff blows. Afterward, battered and covered in injuries, he dragged himself to our gates and has been kneeling there since the middle of the night!

There was a subtle note of vengeful satisfaction lingering in Xiaotao’s tone. I stared into the mirror. My complexion was sickly pale, marred by faint dark circles beneath my eyes. Yet within those pupils, the timid shyness and longing of a young maiden about to be wed had vanished utterly, leaving behind only the surface of a stagnant, dead lake—frigid and deeply desolate. Kneeling for an entire night? Kneeling until his knees were torn to shreds? How utterly laughable. If he had known this day would come, why bother committing such an act yesterday? Did he truly believe that playing the pitiful victim could wash away the humiliation forced upon me, or soften my father’s heart? He understood my father far too little. And he understood me—a person whose heart had already died once—even less. True to expectation, throughout the entire morning, father showed not a single reaction whatsoever. He attended court as usual, and upon his return, calmly handled official documents within his study, behaving precisely as though there were no one kneeling outside the entrance at all. It was not until midday that the steward hurried over to make his report.

Master, messengers have arrived from the imperial palace, conveying His Majesty’s decree inviting you and... and General Xiao from outside the gates to enter the palace together for an audience.

Father laid down his writing brush, his expression entirely devoid of emotion. He walked slowly toward the doorway, and at long last, issued his very first directive concerning Xiao Huai.

Go, pass along a single message to General Xiao.

The steward bowed deeply: Please give your instructions, master.

Father gazed out at the dreary, gray sky hanging beyond the window, pronouncing each word slowly, his voice as cold as tempered steel.

You wish to wed my daughter?

He paused for a brief moment, before deliberately uttering the final four words:

Wait for the next lifetime.