Chapter 6
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With a book in her arms, Yi Jiao Jiao continued to oversee the inspection of weapons in the armory.
Her side profile was partially obscured by a loose strand of dark hair, but her red lips and white teeth were still faintly visible.
“Seventy-seven short daggers, twenty-six of which have lost their gems and need to be sent to the blacksmith for repair.
There are also fifteen with worn engravings. Make sure to take them for proper restoration. Count everything carefully…” she instructed as she stepped back slightly, her eyes still fixed on the book in her hands.
Unexpectedly, she collided with a broad chest. Yi Jiao Jiao quickly turned, looking up to meet Tan Ci’s smiling eyes.
Reflexively, she shot him a reproachful glance, then hurriedly curtsied and spoke in a tone that had nothing to do with the formal greeting. “My lord, what brings you back today? Did you not send word that it would take another ten to fifteen days to complete the matters over there?”
Tan Ci, in a better mood than before, raised his hand and gently touched her arm before releasing it, standing with his hands behind his back. “The matters were completed earlier than expected… I came back to offer incense.”
Yi Jiao Jiao paused for a brief moment, her expression softening as she lowered her head respectfully. “As for the hundred-day memorial for the madam, in accordance with your wishes, it was kept simple. The offerings and rites in the ancestral hall have all been properly prepared.”
Tan Ci responded softly, his tone neutral and unreadable. He made no further movement.
Yi Jiao Jiao stepped aside and handed the book to a nearby maid, then bowed. “Please, my lord, follow me.”
Without waiting for him to respond, she gracefully lifted her skirt and exited the room, her figure backlit by the light, becoming a silhouette that resembled a wisp of smoke fading into the breeze.
Tan Ci followed her into the ancestral hall. She stood silently to one side, her head lowered, a quiet and unobtrusive presence.
He lit the incense, extinguished the flame, and, with the smoke curling around him, knelt on the mat in the hall. He performed three respectful bows and, after completing the ritual, stood and carefully placed the incense sticks into the incense burner.
Yi Jiao Jiao remained still, her eyes focused on the ground, her expression unreadable. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the flash of his white robe as he bowed once more in front of the plaque for Yang Shi.
Tan Ci spoke, his voice low but clear. “In this life, our bond was shallow. You left me too early, and it was my misfortune. But there is one thing I have never told you, and it feels like a regret. Today, as I send you on your final journey, I will say it plainly, so that in the next life, you will not suffer from misunderstandings.”
Yi Jiao Jiao suddenly raised her eyes, looking at his back. He rarely wore such plain white clothes. The solemnity and composure he usually exuded were replaced with a gentleness that softened his presence. In his white robes and dark hair, he looked like a noble, jade-like young man, elegant and graceful.
He continued, his voice even softer now, “I have long held my heart for one person, wishing to walk alongside them, hand in hand, for a hundred years, and in the next life, too. From now on, our relationship as husband and wife ends here. I only wish for you to find a good person in the next life, and grow old together.”
In the quiet room, Tan Ci turned around, smiled at Yi Jiao Jiao, and extended his hand. “Come here.”
Yi Jiao Jiao looked at him, slowly approaching but not taking his hand. Instead, she kneeled gracefully on the mat and bowed three times in reverence.
The two of them knelt before the plaque of Yang Shi, surrounded by silence. A breeze passed through the hall, and the sound of birds flapping their wings briefly broke the stillness.
Then, Yi Jiao Jiao’s voice broke the quiet. “My lord, which is harder to bear, the separation of death or the separation of life?”
Tan Ci paused, pondering her question. Before he could respond, she smiled lightly, turning her head to look at him.
Her eyes shimmered with a gentle, watery light. “If you ask me, neither is difficult to endure. As long as the feelings are not severed, there will always be a day when we meet again, whether in the afterlife or here.”
Tan Ci gazed at her with tenderness in his eyes. She appeared resolute, as though she had made a firm decision. Her red lips parted as if to make an important declaration.
“My lord, are you certain? I want you to marry me—not because Biling needs a wife, not because you think it will be better with me, but because you cannot live without me. I want you to marry me because I am the only one for you, no one else will do.”
She paused, staring intently at him, then asked again, “Are you certain?”
Tan Ci sighed deeply, feeling a sense of calm settle in his heart. She was the one destined for him; only she could speak those words with such conviction.
He reached up and gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, then smiled softly. “Yes, Jiao Jiao.”
Her smile blossomed like a rare flower, proud and firm, her belief unshaken. It was as if the snow-white magnolia had bloomed at the peak of winter, unparalleled and exquisite.
She nodded, her eyes curving in a smile. “In that case, let the marriage proposal be sent from Jiang Cheng’s Yi Shui Manor, my lord.”
In July, the city of Jiang Cheng was bathed in the glow of a red wedding procession by the Yi Shui River.
The whole city sent off the bride with a procession of Yi Jiao Jiao, as she married Tan Ci, the lord of the Biling Mountain Manor, who wielded the Zhe Ling sword.
Three days after the wedding, the new bride had already settled the affairs of the manor, standing outside her bedroom in the early morning. She held a string of pearl-embedded seashell wind chimes, intending to hang them from the beam.
There were no servants around. Her dress was simple, a pale color, and as she hesitated for a moment, she stepped up onto a bench, holding her skirt with one hand, carefully fixing the wind chimes.
The moment she finished, a breeze passed by, and she gently tapped the seashells with her finger, watching them sway and hearing their clear, crisp sound. She smiled faintly.
Just as she wondered how to climb down, she noticed Tan Ci leaning lazily against a pillar with his arms crossed. His long hair cascaded loosely, his tunic slightly open, revealing a glimpse of his chest, with the faint light of spring shining through.
His gaze silently reproached her for climbing up alone, and she understood it all too well.
Yi Jiao Jiao pretended not to understand his silent reproach. She smiled at him in the morning light, her laughter blending with the sound of the wind chimes. “My lord, do you like it? I always thought this corridor felt a bit empty when I walked through it, a little sound would make it feel livelier.”
Tan Ci curved his lips but didn’t reply. Yi Jiao Jiao didn’t rush him; instead, she made a show of lifting her skirt as if she intended to jump down herself.
Tan Ci couldn’t hold back and, with a swift motion, swept her off her feet, carrying her toward the bedroom. “So capable now, climbing to such heights by yourself?”
She stopped resisting, settling into a comfortable position on his shoulder. “I was watching you sleep… You still need to go down the mountain today.”
With one swift motion, Tan Ci closed the door behind them and gently laid her down on the couch. “Are you worried about me? Worried that I will be tired?”
Yi Jiao Jiao shot him a playful glare, then smiling, she pressed her finger against his lips, refusing to relent. “You still haven’t told me, do you like it?”
Tan Ci kissed her finger, his voice husky, “I do… Since you arrived at Biling, there’s not a single thing I don’t like.”
Finally satisfied, Yi Jiao Jiao withdrew her finger, reaching up to draw the silk curtains closed.
