Chapter 7 — Wedding Hall, No Groom

My words were graceful and my demeanor humble, preserving the profound dignity of a noble lineage while quietly affirming the rumors of my sudden poverty. The matrons all nodded in sympathetic understanding, their eyes looking upon me with a blended measure of admiration and profound pity. Just as the atmosphere within the floral hall settled into a delicate, harmonious equilibrium, a sharp announcement pierced through the air from outside the doorway, carrying a faint, barely perceptible tremor:

The General's Manor – General Xiao has arrived!

In an instant, the gentle murmurings and polite laughter were entirely silenced, as if someone had pressed a sudden pause on the world. Every single gaze shifted in unison toward the entrance. Xiao Huai stepped into view, clad in deep black civilian attire. His tall, formidable frame could not conceal the heavy, haggard exhaustion weighing upon his shoulders. He brought no retinue, standing there entirely alone, looking utterly out of place amidst the opulent chamber filled with fragrant blooms and glittering jewelry. His gaze cut across all the astonished faces, landing squarely upon me. That look was complex to the extreme—fraught with shame, agony, internal torment, and a lingering plea that he himself likely did not realize he was projecting. I met his gaze with absolute serenity, refusing to flinch. My heart remained as still as stagnant water. After a brief, breathless stillness, the guests behind their silk fans began to whisper with renewed, fervent intensity.

What is he even doing here? How does he have the audacity to show his face?

Looking at him, he must be here to beg the young lady for forgiveness?

Forgiveness? Does he mistake this place for somewhere else? This is the Grand Tutor’s manor! If he dares to cause a scene today, Lord Grand Tutor will surely break his legs on the spot!

Amidst the rising tide of murmurs, I slowly stepped forward, coming to a halt three paces away from him. I dipped into a standard, flawless curtsey. My voice was as detached as though I were greeting a complete stranger:

I was unaware that General Xiao intended to honor us with your presence. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?

I... Xiao Huai’s Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as thousands of unspoken words seemed to crowd his throat, yet not a single syllable managed to escape his lips.

Without waiting for his response, I turned slightly and instructed the steward standing nearby:

A guest is a guest. Since he is a guest, there is no reason to turn him away at the door. Go, fetch a chair for General Xiao to sit, and serve tea.

My words left the entire hall stunned. The steward, old Uncle Shen, furrowed his brows and leaned in to advise in a hushed tone:

Young mistress...

I raised a hand to halt him, repeating my previous command, though this time, a quiet, unyielding resolution laced my tone:

Uncle Shen, go. The Grand Tutor’s manor keeps its doors open to all; there is no logic in rejecting a visitor at the threshold.

Business, visitor—those two words landed like a pair of resounding, stinging slaps straight across Xiao Huai’s face.

His complexion drained of color instantly, turning far paler than clean white paper. Uncle Shen saw the resolute hardness in my eyes, then glanced back at Xiao Huai standing like a hollow shell at the entrance. In the end, he could only heave a long sigh and gesture for a servant to bring a chair, placing it at the very bottom of the hall. Xiao Huai stiffened, moving with heavy, reluctant steps under the scathing stares of ridicule, pity, and thinly veiled contempt from everyone present. He silently took his seat in the most lowly position. He resembled an uninvited latecomer whom no one welcomed, sitting by himself and absorbing every single freezing glance like a blade. I knew then that my very first tactical move had been firmly and successfully played.

The appearance of Xiao Huai was like a massive boulder thrown into a calm lake, stirring up thousands of ripples, yet it failed to disrupt the rhythm of my prearranged plans. I did not spare him another glance, treating him as though he were nothing more than a meaningless backdrop. I maintained my gentle smile, conversing freely with the matrons and young ladies, gracefully introducing the origins and literary allusions behind each displayed item. Every gesture and every word exuded the composed, refined poise of a noble eldest daughter. My unshakeable calmness stood in blinding contrast to Xiao Huai’s overwhelming awkwardness and humiliation. The guests in the hall were all perceptive individuals; who among them could fail to grasp the underlying drama? They tacitly chose to treat Xiao Huai as if he were mere air, making the lively chatter in the room even more vibrant than before. Soon enough, the centerpiece of the gathering arrived. I walked personally before the Twelve Lunar Flower Goddesses tea set, gesturing for little Tao to present the pieces. She delicately lifted a cup hand-painted with December plums, raising it against the bright light. Immediately, the porcelain walls turned as translucent as crystal ice, revealing faint plum branches and a fairy in floating robes so vivid she seemed ready to step right out of the vessel.

The verse goes: ‘Sparse shadows slant across shallow water, a hidden fragrance drifts in the yellow twilight’—truly a peerless masterpiece!

A matron with a keen eye for antiques could not help but exclaim in admiration. I offered a faint, elegant smile and spoke softly:

During her lifetime, my mother cherished the plum blossom above all else, and she loved this tea set the most. She often said a woman ought to resemble the plum—unfazed by biting winds, standing proudly amidst barren branches to retain a pure fragrance.

My voice was as cool as spring water, tinged with a delicate sorrow and fond remembrance. Pity that such a treasure must now find a new master. This tea set consists of twelve cups and one pot, not sold separately. The starting bid is five thousand taels of silver.

Five thousand taels! The moment those words fell, the entire hall erupted into a murmur of astonishment. Such a vast sum was equivalent to the entire lifetime earnings of a middle-class merchant. Although the tea set was an invaluable rarity, the steep price alone was enough to make most people look on with longing while daring not to dream. And that exact price was precisely what I wanted. I had no intention of letting it fall into the hands of some obscure merchant; I wanted the price to soar so high that only those with immense power or boundless wealth could afford it. For instance, members of the imperial family with coffers overflowing with gold; or perhaps wealthy aristocratic merchant houses with money to burn. Or better yet, a certain defending general who had recently returned in triumph from the battlefield, richly rewarded with countless treasures. The floral hall descended into a hush, with no one daring to call out a bid. Yet every pair of eyes involuntarily drifted toward the corner of the hall where Xiao Huai sat. It was like a chessboard already set in motion. Everyone was waiting to see whether the general who had once cast aside his betrothed for the sake of a favored concubine would dare to throw away a fortune once more to buy yet another gift for her. Xiao Huai’s expression had turned utterly ghastly. He sat rigidly straight, his hands clenched so tightly into fists that the veins on the backs of his hands bulged visibly. He could feel the razor-sharp gazes piercing into his skin. He knew that the very moment he opened his mouth to bid, the damning label of a fickle, ruthless man who abandoned his wife for a mistress would cleave to him for the rest of his days, turning him into the laughingstock of the entire capital. Yet, within his mind, he could not banish the tear-streaked face of Liu Yunwei accompanied by her choked, desperate plea:

Brother Huai, this is the only thing I ask of you...

He was trapped in a relentless dilemma with no way forward and no retreat.