Chapter 670: For Others to Wear the Wedding Dress

Hundreds of elite cavalry from Lingzhou escorted three carriages into Liangzhou City. Leading them was Han Laoshhan, the Deputy General of Lingzhou. The armor of the several cavalrymen behind him indicated they were powerful captains, wielding significant influence across prefectures and counties in Beiliang. This sight astonished the common folk along the city streets, who wondered who or what was important enough to warrant such a grand mobilization from Lingzhou's military, effectively "emptying out" a good portion of Lingzhou's officer ranks.

Among the cavalry, one rider stood out, or perhaps more accurately, appeared out of place. Amidst a vast expanse of warhorses, Liangdao sabers, and sharp, armored spears, this sole individual wore the formal attire of a civil official. He escorted the leading carriage, occasionally glancing at its window with a look of smug satisfaction, perfectly embodying Xu Weixiong's childhood observation of "eyebrows raised in triumph." This was none other than Wang Lüting, the head of the Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau. His hurried journey to the Beiliang King's Residence wasn't due to a low-ranking official's sudden rise to power; rather, this young patriarch of the Zijin Wang Clan had genuinely achieved a remarkable administrative feat, worthy of Deputy General Han Laoshhan's devoted service. Inside the three carriages, there were no precious metals or rare treasures, nor were they carrying auspicious tributes for Qingliang Mountain. Instead, there were just three items of clothing.

After the Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau changed hands, Wang Lüting personally took charge of this matter with single-minded devotion. In other territories of the Liyang Dynasty, the position of weaving official was, at its core, merely a ranked secret agent—the emperor's eyes and ears stationed in the provinces, enjoying the special privilege of sending urgent, confidential reports directly to the imperial study. Wang Lüting, however, was a weaving official personally promoted by Beiliang after Li Xifeng retired, and thus had no connection whatsoever to the sagacious Zhao family emperor. Besides closely monitoring the jianghu forces in Lingzhou, particularly the rise of the Fish-Dragon Gang, Wang Lüting largely served as a literal weaving official, performing the work of sewing clothes.

Inside the leading carriage sat three women. The eldest was no more than thirty years old, and a small, gilded zitan wood box rested in the compartment. The youngest woman had a graceful figure and outstanding beauty. Although dressed in a custom-made ice-silk work uniform from the Weaving Bureau, every detail bespoke careful thought: her face was adorned with appropriately applied fish-charm powder, her eyebrows drawn with stone-ground pigment bought from Xiniang Zhai, a place known as Lingzhou's "women's money pit," and on her wrist, she wore a fish-shaped jade pendant symbolizing good fortune and abundance. It was clear at a glance that this woman came from a privileged official family; the other two women, with their sparse accessories, were miles apart in comparison.

However, this wealthy woman was always cheerful and chatty with the older female weaving official, but she found endless ways to provoke the woman named Xu. Of course, these were subtle tactics, designed not to overtly annoy others. The young woman didn't know why she harbored such animosity towards the poor young widow; she simply found her discomforting to look at. Perhaps it was because Miss Xu's bosom was "less peaceful" than her own, or perhaps it was because, despite being a crude countrywoman with a child from a previous marriage, she garnered more attention from men within the Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau than the young woman herself. For instance, one of the weaving official's trusted handsome aides seemed to have been blinded by love, falling for this young woman at first sight as if enchanted, even rejecting a pre-arranged marriage to a woman of suitable family background. He swore he would marry no one but Miss Xu, vowing that if she agreed, he would formally marry her, disregard her past, and even treat her son as his own. Not only this scholar who had studied the classics for twenty years in vain, but also a military officer in Lingzhou, just over thirty and on the verge of becoming a captain, with a bright future and a home frequented by governors and generals—a man who could find any suitable match—was likewise captivated by her beauty. This made the young woman in the carriage resent the unfairness of the world. That "fox spirit" Xu exuded a rustic air from head to toe. While her looks were striking, they weren't truly astonishing. Could she really be a mountain spirit from the deep woods? Otherwise, why would so many men be so utterly infatuated with her?

She glanced at the woman she mentally labeled as "Miss Xu the fox," then smiled at the older woman and said, "Sister Song, when I was little, I heard my father say he once visited Qingliang Mountain. He went with Governor Liu to attend our young prince's birthday banquet. My father also mentioned that the Grand General himself came down from his seat to share a cup of 'green ant wine' with them."

The older woman smiled and chimed in, "Zao'er, everyone knows your father is a financial magnate in Lingzhou. Visiting the King's Residence is certainly a comforting experience. Zao'er, your literary talent is excellent. This time, accompanying Master Wang to Qingliang Mountain, you might just catch the Prince's eye and unexpectedly become a 'red-ink female scholar' in the Wutong Courtyard. When that happens, don't forget your Sister Song!"

The young woman, nicknamed Zao'er, covered her mouth and chuckled, "Thank you for your kind words, Sister. I wouldn't dare aspire to be a female scholar. It would be the greatest fortune for Zao'er to even serve as a small maid for the Prince."

Miss Xu Qing, the young woman who had left her hometown to join the Weaving Bureau, had a faint, serene expression and showed no desire to join the back-and-forth banter of the two women beside her. In truth, she still didn't know how the Youzhou government had taken a liking to her needlework and embroidery skills, selecting her along with more than a dozen other dexterous women from various prefectures to travel, bewildered, to the rich Lingzhou, renowned as the "Little Jiangnan of the Frontier." She could only attribute this inexplicable opportunity to her habit of sewing small personal items for official families' daughters in her spare time back in her hometown of Daoma Pass. She had initially been reluctant to journey far to Lingzhou. Her son, Yousong, was still young, and though their family land was small, it couldn't be neglected. Such was life in the countryside: less sweat meant less harvest; the heavens' eyes were sharp. However, the village head had spoken, declaring it a great honor for Zhaojia Village. If she went to the Lingzhou Weaving Bureau, the village would not only waive Yousong's tuition for elementary schooling but also arrange for neighbors to help care for her family's crops. Yousong could even board with the teacher. This was a tremendous offer. Even with such assurances, Xu Qing still consulted Yousong. The child, sensible and though he yearned for his mother, patted his chest and said it was fine for his mother to go to Lingzhou; he could take care of himself and promised to recite the "Three Hundred Surnames and Thousand-Character Classic" perfectly by the time she returned.

Miss Xu thought of her sensible child, and a warmth spread through her heart, causing her lips to curl into a smile.

Zao'er, seeing the slight smile on the other woman's lips, seethed inwardly. That "Xu fox's" looks were nothing special, yet it was precisely this quiet, inner charm that most captivated men. She wasn't that she didn't want to learn it, but she simply couldn't, and in the end, she had to give up in frustration.

Zao'er, preferring to ignore what bothered her, spoke to the plain-looking Sister Song with a triumphant expression: "Sister Song, the three python robes and phoenix gowns, crafted with the full might of the Weaving Bureau—the python robe is naturally for our Prince, and the other two are presumably for the two Princess Consorts. My father once shared drinks with a chief steward from the Lu family earlier this year. That steward privately mentioned that their young lady might not become the primary consort, but one main and three secondary consorts have long been the established rule for Liyang's royal relatives. Even if the Lu family's young lady isn't the primary consort, she'll be the first among the secondary ones. The one from the Wang family of Spring God Lake will have to rank after her. Sister Song, you've heard this, but you mustn't tell anyone else; it would cause big trouble."

The older woman knew that even the smallest matters concerning "the imperial family" outweighed the greatest affairs of common folk. How would she dare gossip about such secrets? She listened, startled, and grew increasingly respectful of Miss Zao'er, who was, by rights, her subordinate. She thought to herself that she used to occasionally put on airs in front of Zao'er, but perhaps this trip to the King's Residence meant she should be more careful and try to mend past mistakes. The Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau's structure was largely similar to other major weaving bureaus in the Liyang Dynasty. Among its three workshops, only the Imperial Fabric Loom House was virtually defunct; the other two operated identically. Including her, a registered official artisan, and recruited temporary workers like Xu Qing, there were over six hundred people in total, with more than four hundred looms. Chief Weaving Official Wang Lüting was rumored to be a favored confidant of the new Beiliang King. Whether true or not, both the prominent figures in the Lingzhou local government and the Fish-Dragon Gang dared not disrespect Master Wang, allowing the Weaving Bureau to navigate all its affairs in Lingzhou with ease. This made her, a minor female official in the silk workshop, feel a sense of pride, no longer neglected and always having to bow her head as during Li Xifeng's previous tenure.

The reason she didn't join Zao'er in ostracizing the outsider woman Xu Qing was a secret she harbored. One time, she had personally seen, from a distance, Master Wang the weaving official reprimanding someone in a secluded spot. The person being scolded was none other than a commandant who commanded half a prefecture's military power, a well-reputed scion of a general's family, and slightly older than Master Wang himself. At first, he seemed to want to retort, but then Master Wang said something that made the commandant's face drastically change. The commandant, who usually walked with a powerful, wolf-like stride, departed looking like a frosted eggplant, utterly demoralized. From then on, the commandant never returned to the Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau to bother the young widow Xu Qing. She secretly speculated that the young woman Xu Qing was either a lucky recipient of Master Wang Lüting's personal patronage, or the forbidden lover of some powerful, behind-the-scenes figure in Lingzhou. Otherwise, she simply couldn't fathom who possessed such extraordinary power to easily send rural women from Youzhou's border into the highly sought-after Lingzhou Weaving Bureau, allowing them to receive a unique double salary, all while Xu Qing herself remained oblivious to the truth, believing her treatment was the same as other female artisans.

Xu Qing, sitting upright, secretly extended a finger while the two women chatted, lightly tracing the surface of the zitan wood box. It was only after joining the Weaving Bureau that she learned some woods in the world were more valuable than human lives, literally worth their weight in gold.

She had never truly understood this world.

She thought that after completing this task, she would bravely approach the chief master of her silk workshop and ask if she could take leave to go home, see her child, and check on the harvest in their fields.

Xu Qing inexplicably recalled the garments inside the three boxes, which were truly astonishing. The chief master, when presenting the finished work, had boasted to Master Wang the weaving official that, under normal procedures and manpower at the Jiangnan Weaving Bureau, not to mention three garments, just the python robe meant for the Beiliang King would take three years to complete, and even then might not be superior to what the Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau produced. Xu Qing had no doubts about this; having personally participated, she understood the arduousness better than anyone. Dozens of people at each stage of the process, from the chief master to the lowest artisan, worked over eight hours a day, which was why the Weaving Bureau was always brightly lit at night. Her hands had been pricked hundreds of times, more than she could count. The python robe, from the hand of a master dragon painter, had nine drafts, each one so lifelike it inspired awe. She had only seen the chosen one, and she dared not meet the gaze of the python-dragon in the painting, feeling as though it might emerge from the draft, breathing clouds and mist. Xu Qing was one of many thread-picking artisans. This python robe featured *zhuānghuā*, the most precious form of *yúnjǐn*, and unprecedentedly required a terrifying eighteen hundred picked threads. Even a single mistaken thread would ruin the entire effort, necessitating a complete restart. Earlier, a female artisan, who was on good terms with Xu Qing, almost faced summary execution by Master Wang the weaving official, who had rushed to the scene, simply for picking one thread incorrectly. Xu Qing, disregarding her own safety, pleaded for her, doing all she could while leaving the rest to fate. Unexpectedly, the artisan miraculously escaped, though she lost her status as an official artisan and was expelled from the Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau.

Xu Qing, with her dexterous hands, was fortunately given the exceptional opportunity to help with the thread-picking for all three garments, especially the black-based, gold-embroidered python robe. With eighteen golden pythons, once completed, it truly exuded a rare dignity in the world. Even Xu Qing, who considered herself an ignorant countrywoman, dared to say that, apart from the Emperor on the dragon throne in Tai'an City, no other vassal king's python robe in the world could compare to it.

As for the two "wedding dresses" for the future Beiliang Princess Consorts, Xu Qing felt little emotion. She would never, like Zao'er, feel her heart flutter at a mere glance, foolishly daydreaming about how wonderful it would be to wear them herself.

The cavalry troop rode straight to the foot of Qingliang Mountain, and Wang Lüting breathed a sigh of relief. Over twenty people from the Weaving Bureau accompanied them on this trip, but not everyone would have the luck to enter the King's Residence and broaden their horizons. Three carriages, three boxes, three garments. Each carriage had three female artisans guarding a zitan box. Wang Lüting had long planned that only one woman from each carriage would be allowed to "fit" the clothes for the Beiliang King and the two future Princess Consorts from the Lu and Wang families. The python robe was undoubtedly the most important. As for the female artisan named Situ Huazao, her father had used countless favors and a full six thousand taels of silver to secure a spot from a chief master. Wang Lüting smirked, thinking, "Does she really think she can dress the Beiliang King with just that?"

After dismounting, Wang Lüting called out the names of those responsible for carrying the boxes from the latter two carriages into the residence. The two chosen women were so overwhelmed with emotion that tears immediately welled up in their eyes. They came from respectable families, had delicate features, and were consistently honest and humble—definitely not cunning urban women who would try to embellish things. Wang Lüting felt very confident in them. Then, at the first carriage, Master Wang Lüting, the weaving official, looked meaningfully at the unassuming Xu Qing, pointed a finger at her, and said nothing more. Xu Qing froze on the spot. She had always assumed it would be Situ Huazao, the favored daughter of heaven, who would go to fit the young Beiliang King with his clothing. She never imagined it would be her, and for a moment, she was completely at a loss. Wang Lüting frowned. If it had been anyone else, he would have long since lost his temper, but since it was her, Wang Lüting uncharacteristically showed a touch more patience. He gave Xu Qing a light glance and stopped, waiting specifically for her.

The reason for this was that Wang Lüting knew more. This young widow's background was simple, but the man behind the scenes who had personally sent her into Wang Lüting's territory was someone even Wang Lüting, the head of the Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau, absolutely dared not offend!

General Huangfu Cheng of Youzhou!

That man was truly the Beiliang King's confidant.

Compared to this notorious ruthless figure of Beiliang, Wang Lüting readily admitted inferiority, whether in terms of administrative experience or cunning ruthlessness.

Wang Lüting had always believed that the young woman from Daoma Pass in Rouge Prefecture was Huangfu Cheng's chosen woman.

That was why he consistently treated her with courtesy, even if it meant holding his nose.

Wang Lüting, of course, didn't know that even General Huangfu of Youzhou dared not show the slightest impropriety or disrespect when encountering this young widow.

Xu Qing, steeling herself, carried the not-so-heavy zitan wood box and dazedly followed the others into the King's Residence.

As they walked, Xu Qing forgot to glance at the famous Tide-Listening Lake. Previously, in the Weaving Bureau, people often spoke of that lake with longing, using exaggerated hearsay to describe the sight of ten thousand carp churning in its waters.

Wang Lüting slowly ascended the mountain, first delivering two boxes to the entrances of two elegant and quiet courtyards.

Finally, led by the chief steward, they headed towards a higher and extremely inconspicuous courtyard.

It wasn't the Wutong Courtyard.

It was actually the residence of the old Beiliang King, Xu Xiao!

Even the strong-minded Wang Lüting was greatly surprised.

Wang Lüting let out a long breath and whispered, "Xu Qing, be quick and natural in your actions. If you're truly nervous, I can let you wait outside the courtyard for a moment until your hands and feet aren't stiff before you go in."

Xu Qing's face turned pale. Holding the box, and hearing the weaving official's words, she became even more timid, almost on the verge of tears.

The person inside was the Beiliang King! She had never even seen a high official like a county magistrate in her life. How could she not be extremely nervous?

Wang Lüting looked at her awkwardness and felt a little annoyed. He thought, "I should have let Situ Huazao carry the box. At least that woman is quite ambitious and even bolder; she certainly wouldn't be this timid. As for her slight restlessness, what does that matter in a King's Residence that has housed two generations of non-imperial kings of the Liyang Dynasty?"

The chief steward, who was leading the way, maintained a smiling face, showing no intention of rushing them. But Wang Lüting, being well-versed in human affairs, knew perfectly well that he was being severely implicated by Xu Qing. If his Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau ever wished to enter Qingliang Mountain again in the future, it would be as hard as ascending to heaven unless summoned by the Beiliang King himself.

The chief steward certainly wouldn't bother arguing with the woman, but in the heart of this undisputed Beiliang magnate, as Wang Lüting had indeed expected, a certain ill will had developed towards Wang Lüting's Zijin Wang Clan and the entire Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau.

Wang Lüting sighed inwardly as he watched Xu Qing's panic, which had not diminished but instead increased.

The chief steward squinted, casting a sideways glance at the young weaving official, then turned to the woman and smiled kindly: "Young lady, it's alright. Our Prince is the most accommodating and kind-hearted person in the world. Go in with confidence; even if you make a mistake, it won't matter. How about we make a wager? If the Prince says a single harsh word to you, I'll give you ten taels of silver when you come out. But if the Prince truly is as gentle and amiable as I say, then you'll owe me ten taels of silver, alright?"

Xu Qing finally relaxed a little. Biting her lip, she nodded, no longer looking so unsure of where to put her hands and feet.

The chief steward smiled faintly, helped push open the courtyard gate, and after she stepped across the threshold, gently closed it.

Then, Xu Qing saw a young man's back, standing alone beneath a loquat tree that still retained its green leaves in autumn.

The loquat tree was solitary, and he, too, was solitary.

Xu Qing paused, blinked her eyes, thinking she was seeing things. After blinking hard, she still found it incredible.

How could his figure be so similar to that young master who had passed through Daoma Pass twice?

The man turned around. Xu Qing immediately felt a wave of relief, but when she saw his eyes, her anxiety returned.

Their faces weren't the same, but their eyes and gaze were too similar.

Xu Qing was completely bewildered.

Although she knew that this unattainable young vassal king could not possibly be that person, at that moment, she inappropriately thought of him and truly missed him.

Young Miss Xu Qing knew she shouldn't be feeling this way, but she was.

Xu Fengnian was also momentarily surprised but quickly understood the reason: it was definitely Huangfu Cheng's unnecessary meddling. However, since things had come to this, he didn't want to say more.

He walked up to her, took the box, and said calmly, "I can dress myself. Just wait in the courtyard and leave after the time it takes an incense stick to burn. Tell Wang Lüting outside the gate that I said the python robe is good. Also, tell him not to rush leaving the King's Residence yet."

Xu Qing nodded blankly, unsure if she had truly registered his words.

Xu Fengnian turned around and smiled.

As he ascended the steps, a timid but undeniably bold cry—the bravest that woman had ever uttered in her life—suddenly came from behind him: "Young Master Xu!"

He did not stop.

Her face flushed crimson, and sweat beaded on her forehead, with strands of hair clinging to her cheeks. She raised an arm and secretly wiped it.

She smiled happily. It wasn't him.

It was better that it wasn't him.

If it wasn't him, maybe she could see him again.

She still owed him money.

He had said it was fifteen hundred taels of silver and that she should repay it over fifty years.

She herself was unwilling to admit that she agreed to go to the Gold-Thread Weaving Bureau because she had heard him say he was a scholar studying in Lingzhou.

Inside the dimly lit room, Xu Fengnian put on the python robe, which clearly defied dynastic protocol.

It fit perfectly.

Just like Xu Xiao had worn his back then.

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