Chapter 1 The Wedding Night

Chapter 1: The Wedding Night

In the eleventh year of Yonghe, on the third day of the first lunar month, it was an auspicious day for travel and weddings.

Early spring had just arrived in the capital; the snow was beginning to melt. Ice crystals still clung to the jade-tree branches, while both chill and warmth brushed against the world stirring back to life.

On this auspicious day, the Chancellor’s residence gleamed with crimson silk. Palace lanterns bearing the character *xi*—“joy”—hung along the winding corridors, and magpies chirped merrily from the gilded eaves, their calls sounding like words of blessing.

Servants clad in fine brocade moved briskly yet silently, their flowing robes shimmering with an air of overwhelming nobility.

The residence of Chancellor Jiang—the most powerful minister at court—was even more magnificent than a royal palace.

Yet though the Jiang family celebrated a joyous occasion, every servant walked with bowed head and cautious step, as if confronting a mortal enemy. On this day of grand celebration, not a single soul dared smile.

It felt less like a wedding procession—and more like a march to execution.

The Second Young Master, Jiang Yanzhou, stood motionless as attendants draped layer after layer of wedding robes upon him.

Jiang Yanzhou of the Jiang family possessed extraordinary beauty—but suffered from chronic frailty. Clad in vibrant red wedding attire, his pale face gained a faint, vivid flush.

His bones seemed carved from ice, his spirit from jade; his hair, ink-black; his skin, snow-pale. His brows resembled distant mountains; his eyes, the deep stillness of autumn waters. Though his frame was delicate and fragile, his elegance was peerless.

He was like a piece of exquisitely crafted glass—beautiful, yet heartbreakingly brittle.

—the perfect candidate for a spy, wielding his looks as his weapon.

His own father, Chancellor Jiang, believed it without question.

Only his temperament posed a problem. Since childhood, Jiang Yanzhou had been sullen and vicious, his dark disposition utterly squandering that flawless face. Ever since the imperial edict of marriage had been issued, he’d thrown tantrums, wept uncontrollably, and shattered countless precious objects in his chambers.

But today—on the day of his departure—perhaps having resigned himself to fate, he suddenly grew obedient and compliant. The resentment vanished from his eyes, replaced by serene detachment—truly like an immortal descending from the moon.

That’s right—today, the Chancellor’s residence was not welcoming a bride. It was marrying off a son.

As an attendant presented the final golden hairpin, Chancellor Jiang Linque waved his hand, took it, and stepped behind Jiang Yanzhou to fasten it into his hair himself.

Tall and imposing, Chancellor Jiang loomed over the slender young man—his presence oppressive, devoid of paternal tenderness or filial reverence. The slow, deliberate motion of inserting the pin brimmed with quiet menace.

“You are unfit for civil office and incapable of military command. The family has supported you for years—now it is time you repaid that debt.”

Jiang Yanzhou’s dark lashes fluttered faintly.

“The Crown Prince acts recklessly—defiant, arrogant. You will go to his residence and monitor his every move on my behalf. Report back monthly—without fail. Regardless of what befalls the Crown Prince, the Jiang family will guarantee your survival.”

The Crown Prince and the Jiang family were like fire and water. This marriage alliance bore no trace of romance—it was purely a contest of power.

Chancellor Jiang had no daughters—but he could still marry off a son.

Chancellor Jiang claimed the Crown Prince was reckless and defiant?

Jiang Yanzhou suddenly lifted his gaze—about to speak—when Chancellor Jiang pressed down sharply on his shoulder, forcing the words back down his throat.

“You have always been ruthless—but I have never reprimanded you for it. You bear the Jiang name. You must understand who truly deserves your ruthlessness.”

A dull ache throbbed beneath Jiang Yanzhou’s shoulder bone. He parted his lips slightly—then closed them again—before finally uttering, “…Yes.”

He had felt unwell since waking that morning. His voice, weakened by illness, was light and clear—like the gentle murmur of a stream—pleasing to the ear.

Though Chancellor Jiang did not know why Jiang Yanzhou had so abruptly changed his demeanor, he was pleased by his obedience—and his expression softened, ever so slightly.

When an attendant brought the medicine with trembling hands, Chancellor Jiang adopted an uncharacteristically gentle tone.

“This medicine is called *Bujianyue*—‘No-See-Moon.’ After drinking it, you must take the antidote every month. Otherwise, on the fifteenth day of each month, you will feel as if ten thousand ants gnaw at your heart—pain piercing straight to the marrow.” Fearing Jiang Yanzhou might refuse and provoke another scene, Chancellor Jiang coaxed, “Do not be afraid. As long as—”

Before he could finish, he watched Jiang Yanzhou lift the bowl without hesitation, tilt his head back—and drain it in one smooth motion.

There was not a trace of hesitation in his movement—as if he were drinking not poison, but ambrosia.

Under the stunned gazes of all present, Jiang Yanzhou set down the bowl—and frowned faintly at the bitterness. “I’ve taken the medicine. May I leave now?”

Chancellor Jiang: …

Chancellor Jiang: ?

Naturally suspicious, Chancellor Jiang narrowed his eyes. If earlier he had been satisfied with Jiang Yanzhou’s compliance, now suspicion took root.

“Are you in such a hurry to marry the Crown Prince?”

Jiang Yanzhou was a recluse—he hadn’t even laid eyes on the Crown Prince.

“No,” Jiang Yanzhou replied, his tone sharp yet controlled—answering the probe with precision. “I simply do not wish to remain here any longer.”

Chancellor Jiang’s beard twitched slightly. He assumed Jiang Yanzhou still resented the marriage—and felt reassured.

Forcing a son into marriage was hardly a mark of honor—but Chancellor Jiang was iron-willed and never regretted his decisions.

The current emperor had ascended the throne with the support of powerful ministers—but now sought to weaken the noble families. He had installed a Crown Prince to consolidate imperial authority—but whether he—or the Crown Prince—possessed the capability remained to be seen.

Look—when Chancellor Jiang decided to wed his son to the Crown Prince as principal consort, the emperor nearly crushed the armrest of his dragon throne in fury—yet gritted his teeth and granted the marriage.

“The auspicious hour has arrived—”

As the herald’s call rang out, Chancellor Jiang set aside his fleeting compassion, straightened his sleeves, and declared, “Go.”

Jiang Yanzhou was escorted through the vermilion gates.

He truly was not in a hurry to marry the Crown Prince.

He was simply eager to meet him.

Chancellor Jiang seemed to have already sealed the Crown Prince’s fate—but only Jiang Yanzhou knew that Crown Prince Xiao Yunlang would emerge victorious in the end—and ascend the throne.

That’s right—Jiang Yanzhou was a transmigrator.

He had arrived just yesterday—and today, he was getting married.

Jiang Yanzhou—eighteen years old—came from the 21st century.

At five, his irresponsible parents abandoned him and fled. He was passed among relatives, enduring disdain and contempt. From an early age, he witnessed the fickleness of human relationships.

In middle school, he endured bullying. A brat snatched his belongings and sneered, “Jiang Yanzhou—what’s the point of you even being alive?”

Expressionless, Jiang Yanzhou swung his schoolbag—and smashed it into the boy’s face.

Drenched by torrential rain, his thin clothes clinging to his shivering frame, no one cared whether he was cold. Adults—refusing to distinguish right from wrong—surrounded him, chattering and scolding him for causing trouble by fighting.

Little Yanzhou stood trapped within the adults’ shadows, his eyes dampened by rain. He clenched his small face, desperately trying to keep the rainwater from rolling down his cheeks. Through the misty haze, he thought:

There really isn’t much point in being alive.

No one in this world cared about him.

No one cared when he was in pain, no one asked when he was tired, and even if he died, no one would shed a tear for him.

Thus, from a young age, Jiang Yanzhou's life motto was quite philosophical: life didn't matter, and death was whatever.

Jiang Yanzhou had a very open-minded outlook and didn't live a particularly negative life.

He still made an effort to find things he enjoyed. Life isn't easy; since he was already here, he had to find something that could make him smile.

Fortunately, he found it—he loved reading history.

Perhaps it was the grandeur and distance within historical records that allowed for endless imagination about the mysterious past.

Jiang Yanzhou was never without a book in hand: this was far more interesting than fantasizing about his unpromising future.

In the books, he read about the legendary emperor, Emperor Wu, Xiao Yunlang.

Emperor Wu lost his mother in childhood and wasn't favored by his father. It wasn't until the emperor grew older and the struggle between imperial power and aristocratic families reached its peak, with the need to compete over the succession issue, that Xiao Yunlang was chosen after much deliberation.

Unexpectedly, he turned a terrible hand into a winning one, not only successfully ascending the throne but also embarking on his glorious reign with a ruthless yet meticulous approach.

Internally, he purged the empress's clan, established laws, and centralized imperial authority; externally, he quelled wars, drove back the Northern Barbarians, and secured a peaceful homeland for the people.

Emperor Wu never took an empress in his lifetime, nor did he have any children. He passed the throne to his nephew, continuing the rule of a wise and enlightened sovereign.

Securing the borders and pacifying the interior, bringing peace and prosperity to the land, leaving his mark in the annals of history.

A sage and enlightened ruler—there was none greater.

When Jiang Yanzhou first learned about Xiao Yunlang's life, he was almost immediately captivated.

Though he too had tasted life's bitterness young, Jiang Yanzhou drifted with the tide, while Xiao Yunlang's was one of grandeur and tumult.

Xiao Yunlang lived the life Jiang Yanzhou admired.

For the first time, Jiang Yanzhou's eyes lit up. He eagerly sought out and read all kinds of official and unofficial histories related to Xiao Yunlang, devouring them with relish.

For the parts of unofficial histories that were untrue and slandered Xiao Yunlang, Jiang Yanzhou would refute them with well-reasoned arguments, citing classics and historical records.

For instance, when Chancellor Jiang had just belittled Xiao Yunlang, Jiang Yanzhou wanted to retort: What, just because he doesn't conform to your interests, you call him unruly?

But there were parts of the unofficial histories that truly couldn't be verified.

Such as the death of Xiao Yunlang's only official wife.

Yes, that unfortunate official wife shared the same name as him—Jiang Yanzhou.

They were married young. At eighteen, Crown Prince Xiao Yunlang, pressured by aristocratic families, was forced to marry Jiang Yanzhou, his age. After just one year, Jiang Yanzhou died suddenly from illness.

Official history only mentions it in passing, but no matter how you look at it, the death of this young crown princess was quite suspicious.

There are several mainstream academic views: one believes he truly died of illness; another speculates that the Jiang family, to sabotage Xiao Yunlang, didn't hesitate to kill their own child;

a third believes that Xiao Yunlang harbored deep resentment towards the aristocratic families and seized the opportunity to eliminate Jiang Yanzhou.

Now, Jiang Yanzhou had transmigrated into this crown princess fated to die young.

How the historical Jiang Yanzhou died is unknown to later generations, but there is one thing Jiang Yanzhou can confirm—

The crown princess's health was truly poor.

Ever since getting into the sedan chair, Jiang Yanzhou felt he couldn't hold on much longer. He leaned weakly against the palanquin's seat, waves of dizziness washing over him. He didn't know how long he had been coughing, only that his throat was sore and he tasted blood in his mouth.

No, Jiang Yanzhou thought dizzily, I can't faint. At the very least, I have to hold on until I see Xiao Yunlang.

Since transmigrating, he hadn't cared about his own situation, nor had he cared about what his fate would be under his current identity. From last night until now, he could think of nothing but Xiao Yunlang.

That was Xiao Yunlang! The Xiao Yunlang he never even dared dream he might one day see!

Jiang Yanzhou's face was deathly pale. With just a slight surge of emotion, his head spun even more. He had to force his emotions down and close his eyes for a short rest.

The sedan chair lurched and swayed. The wedding procession numbered over a hundred people, stretching as far as the eye could see. Amidst the clamor of gongs and drums, from Shenwu Gate to Zhuque Avenue, the area was under full martial law, with armored soldiers standing in formation, holding swords.

Xiao Yunlang did not reside in the Eastern Palace but lived in the Crown Prince's Mansion in the northern alley, which had been converted from a prince's residence.

Regarding this marriage, the officials were deeply reticent.

A legitimate son being married off to a political opponent—whether forced or willing—in the ancient social context where the rise and fall of a family was highly tied to an individual's fate, Jiang Yanzhou was naturally seen as a spy for the Jiang family, an enemy of the crown prince.

The crown prince did not hold a banquet, did not come to greet the bride. The ministers dared not come to congratulate, and the ceremonial officials dared not utter a word.

The vast Crown Prince's Mansion was eerily quiet. Apart from two ferocious-looking stone lions at the entrance reluctantly draped with red cloth for appearance's sake, there was no semblance of a wedding at all.

The sedan chair entered the mansion, and Jiang Yanzhou was directly taken to the bridal chamber. The rest of the Jiang family hastily withdrew, leaving only two young servants to care for Jiang Yanzhou's daily needs.

The servants helped Jiang Yanzhou into the room and then exited. Jiang Yanzhou leaned against the bedside, his body weak, without even the strength to move a finger. He not only felt unwell but also... very hungry.

Apart from that bottle of poison, he hadn't had a drop of water or a grain of rice all day.

On the table were longans, peanuts, and wedding cakes. Jiang Yanzhou struggled to move his body to the table. He felt terribly ill, but since he was already at the Crown Prince's Mansion, he would die only after seeing Xiao Yunlang.

Jiang Yanzhou picked up a wedding cake and took small bites.

His throat was too sore to swallow large mouthfuls; he could only chew slowly in small bites. His tongue was numb; apart from the taste of blood, he couldn't discern any other flavor.

Jiang Yanzhou held the cake with both hands, eating slowly, his gaze unfocused: Why hasn't Emperor Wu arrived yet...

Just as he was eating the second piece, the door was kicked open with a bang.

Jiang Yanzhou jumped like a startled rabbit. Half a wedding cake fell onto the table with a soft thud. The person who barged in had originally entered with an imposing aura and vigorous strides but was momentarily halted by this half-cake.

Jiang Yanzhou stared blankly at the young man who had entered the room carrying a sword.

The wedding candles flickered from the gust of wind he brought in. After a brief dimming, the entire room seemed to brighten because of his arrival.

Crown Prince Xiao Yunlang at eighteen, stood tall and handsome, eyebrows sharp as swords, eyes like morning stars, exceptionally handsome and elegant.

Golden silk arm guards tightened the wide sleeves of his wedding attire. The red robes fluttered; he wore the ceremonial robes with the dash of a military uniform, embodying the spirited vigor and heroic bearing of youth.

Xiao Yunlang was still holding a long, black-and-gold *hengdao* in his hand, with blood dripping from the blade.

He didn't look like he was here for the wedding night; he looked like he had just finished killing someone and had come for the next round.

Historical portraits depicted Emperor Wu as broad-shouldered and thick-waisted, with a wide face and stout body—a majestic and portly figure.

Historical records stated that Emperor Wu was refined and courteous, respectful to the worthy and kind to subordinates. On the battlefield, he had the demeanor of a scholar-general, winning the submission of all sides with the bearing of a gentleman.

Jiang Yanzhou looked at the blood-stained sword, then at Xiao Yunlang's cold and stern face.

A refined gentleman would never storm into the bridal chamber brandishing a sword on his wedding night.

He numbly picked up the half piece of wedding cake that had fallen on the table, his gaze vacant as he took a bite—

Was the historical record perhaps off by a mile?

Jiang Yanzhou felt disoriented, torn in two at that moment.

One half was the excitement of finally meeting the legendary wise ruler, while the other half was his perception being shattered—he faintly heard something like the sound of his illusions shattering.

He felt so dizzy.

Yet Jiang Yanzhou stubbornly kept his eyes fixed on Xiao Yunlang, forcing them open wide, unwilling to miss a single strand of his hair.

It was this very youth who would one day rule the world and achieve immortal greatness.

Jiang Yanzhou, dizzy and frail in body but steadfast in spirit, stared unblinkingly at Xiao Yunlang, the wedding cake still clamped in his teeth. Xiao Yunlang: "..."

Their first meeting was already quite bizarre.

He frowned.

Xiao Yunlang paused only briefly before striding into the room, sweeping his robes aside to sit down, and slamming the blood-stained sword onto the table. He spoke coldly, "You—"

He had barely uttered a single word when the cake fell from Jiang Yanzhou’s hand again.

Little Young Master Jiang clutched his chest, his frail body no longer able to contain the turmoil in his mind, and he suddenly spewed a mouthful of blood.

Xiao Yunlang: "!"

The blood splattered onto his wedding robes, staining the gold-embroidered patterns even more vividly.

On their wedding night, the Crown Princess spewed blood all over the bridal chamber.

The wedding cake rolled into the pool of blood. Jiang Yanzhou, who had been holding on all day, finally closed his eyes and collapsed, overwhelmed and unconscious.