The Child Emperor-Chapter 355: Night of the Wedding

Marriage alliance was merely a formality. For the Xiongnu, the marriage alliance could announce to the world a cessation of hostilities and guarantee their safe return to the steppes. This was now more important than anything else. For Great Chu, the marriage alliance could lift the siege of Jincheng City as quickly as possible. After all, the Emperor’s life still hung in enemy hands, and with each passing hour, no one in the realm could rest easy.

Only for a very few individuals was the marriage alliance not merely a formality, but a genuine and substantial change.

Cui Zhao left the city, thus freeing herself from her sister and from the bonds of the Cui clan and even all of Great Chu. But at the moment of leaving the city, she still felt deep terror—terror of rumors she had heard, of foreign peoples, of another world.

She didn’t even know who her husband was. The Xiongnu side had only promised that they would definitely select one from among the Great Chanyu’s most beloved grandsons. Because the competition was fierce, they could not reveal the name in advance.

The maidservants around her had heard many rumors. It was said that the Xiongnu were both curious about and afraid of Princess Pingjin. The so-called selection of a husband was merely an excuse—in fact, no one dared to marry her. They all thought that only the Great Chanyu himself could suppress her. There were even rumors that the Great Chanyu would have her marry his grandson in name, and once the bride entered the camp, he would claim her for himself…

The maidservants didn’t have to follow to the Xiongnu lands and were grateful they could remain in Great Chu. The Xiongnu had no sense of propriety or shame and could commit any outrageous act. Princess Pingjin’s journey was like a sheep entering a tiger’s den.

Cui Zhao arrived at the Xiongnu camp in such fear and trepidation, holding the tragic resolve that at worst she would die. Several Chu envoys guided her through one ceremony after another, following both Chu traditions and accepting Xiongnu customs.

The final ceremony was rather strange. The bride’s veil was removed early—lifted by some random Xiongnu person, who certainly wasn’t the groom—and then right before her, three elders draped in feathers and animal skins danced in circles, chanting and singing, while a large crowd of surrounding Xiongnu occasionally responded in chorus.

Seeing many Xiongnu men and women kneel and kowtow, kissing the ground, Cui Zhao finally realized this was not an ordinary wedding ceremony, but a serious exorcism.

This was not a good omen. Cui Zhao’s heart sank bit by bit, and she was also puzzled. If the Xiongnu were so afraid of her being a jinx, why had they specifically requested a marriage alliance? Could it be that the Great Chanyu truly intended to usurp the nest and forcibly marry her himself?

Cui Zhao didn’t care.

The wedding tent had obviously been carefully arranged. Following the instructions of several Xiongnu women, Cui Zhao sat cross-legged on the soft bed. Most of the headdress that had taken half a day to prepare was removed and replaced with a Xiongnu-style headscarf, also adorned with jewels but even heavier.

The women also performed some exorcism-like rituals before withdrawing, leaving the bride alone.

Cui Zhao remembered Prince Donghai’s words: if the groom came early, it meant this person not only held high status but also cared about the bride’s feelings.

The Xiongnu loved wine and revelry, usually carousing until late at night or even dawn before allowing the groom to enter the bridal chamber. If the groom could escape the entanglement of numerous nobles, he must hold considerable status and be eager to see his new wife.

Cui Zhao silently calculated. It should be the second watch now. If the groom still hadn’t arrived by the third watch…

The tent flap was lifted, and a Xiongnu man walked in, even sooner than Cui Zhao had expected. But she was startled, unable to determine whether this was truly her husband.

She couldn’t distinguish the ages of Xiongnu people and felt this person could be between twenty and forty years old. He wasn’t particularly handsome, but certainly not ugly either. He even possessed a somewhat refined air, which was rather rare among the Xiongnu. However, he wore armor and carried weapons, not at all like someone on his wedding night.

“I am your husband, you are my wife,” the Xiongnu man spoke, surprisingly in the Chu language.

Cui Zhao stared blankly at her husband, unable to say a word.

The Xiongnu man examined his wife carefully by lamplight for a while, his expression impassive, his satisfaction or dissatisfaction unclear. He began removing the weapons from his body one by one—a strong bow, arrows, a saber, a short knife, a dagger… then piece by piece, his leather armor and clothing.

Cui Zhao’s heart tightened. She had not been married to the Champion Marquis for long, and with no feelings between them, they had shared a bed only a few times. She was still somewhat afraid of such things. Forcing herself to calm down, she asked in a low voice, “You can speak the Chu language?”

The Xiongnu man nodded. “A little.”

“What… what is your name?”

The Xiongnu man did not answer. Wearing only his undergarments, he walked to the bride and said, “Take off your clothes.”

“What?”

“Take off your clothes,” the Xiongnu man commanded.

Cui Zhao reached up to remove her head covering, but her arms trembled slightly and she could not summon any strength. The head covering felt incredibly heavy, like a mountain pressing down on her head.

The Xiongnu man helped her remove the head covering and tossed it aside. Taking hold of her hands, he said, “Everyone says I won’t survive three days, but I’m not afraid. I want to be your husband, and I want to bring you safely back to the steppes. Then no one will ever call you a jinx again.”

Looking into those resolute, deep eyes, Cui Zhao felt a surge of gratitude and became certain that this man held a very high position among the Xiongnu.

On this night, the bridegroom who was reluctant to enter the bridal chamber was the Great Chu Emperor.

The wedding ceremony in Jincheng had long since ended. The occasion was grand and solemn, in no way inferior to the Xiongnu ceremony. Han Ruzi only appeared at the final stage to bow to heaven and earth with the bride.

Perhaps to please the Great Chu Emperor, the bride completely followed Chu customs and never removed her bridal veil.

The ceremonial officials conferred upon her the title of Imperial Consort, with a long string of names that the officials could still recite with proper intonation. Han Ruzi heard it once but remembered not a single word.

After the ceremony ended, the bride was escorted to the bridal chamber, but Han Ruzi, as the bridegroom, returned to the main hall to continue handling government affairs.

With communications between Jincheng and the outside world restored, the memorials requiring the Emperor’s attention were stacked higher than a person—and this was only part of them. No one else could handle them in his place.

Fortunately, Zhao Ruosu was there to help. The Palace Drafter was supposedly one of the Emperor’s inner circle, but his main duty was usually just delivering memorials to the eunuchs, rarely seeing the Emperor in person.

Han Ruzi quite appreciated Zhao Ruosu. With Liu Jie having gone to deliver imperial edicts to Deng Cui, and Qu Zixi and others still in the Xiongnu camp, he ordered Zhao Ruosu to remain and await orders.

Han Ruzi initially intended to use Zhao Ruosu merely as an advisor, but soon discovered that this man’s abilities extended far beyond his exceptional memory—his insights were also profound, completely unlike an ordinary clerk.

“Your Majesty should prioritize responding to Wang Jianhuo’s memorial from Luoyang,” Zhao Ruosu suggested.

Ugly Wang refused to accept any court position. When he was in Luoyang, he worked under Qu Zixi, but with Qu Zixi’s departure, he became title-less and without official status, making many tasks difficult to carry out. Yet in his memorial, he did not complain, merely reporting on the progress of resettling the refugees.

Progress was not particularly smooth. Summer had arrived, yet many refugees still lingered around Luoyang, unwilling to return home. Han Ruzi could guess the reasons—most importantly, there was a lack of money and transport. With war breaking out in the north, these shortages became even more acute. The Luoyang merchants who had once made promises immediately tightened their purse strings upon discovering the Emperor’s precarious position.

“What should We do? Appoint Wang Jianhuo to an official position? Or issue strict orders to Henan Prefecture requiring them to cooperate?”

Zhao Ruosu bowed and said, “In my foolish opinion, it would be better to issue an edict rebuking Wang Jianhuo and have him atone through meritorious service.”

Han Ruzi smiled and shook his head. “Wang Jianhuo is a chivalrous hero who responds to kindness but not force. He won’t even accept official positions We offer him. If We issue rebukes, he’ll immediately turn and disappear into the pugilist world.”

“Not so. Wang Jianhuo is not one who seeks fame for its own sake. The lives of countless refugees depend on him—he would never abandon them lightly.”

“In that case, We should all the more avoid rebuking him.” 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Zhao Ruosu had not yet reached the point of speaking freely with the Emperor, so he merely agreed and said no more.

After reviewing documents for a while, Han Ruzi looked up and said, “There are no outsiders here. Lord Zhao, please speak your mind freely. You need not conceal anything from Us.”

Only then did Zhao Ruosu continue: “Wang Jianhuo holds no official position, so he cannot act with official authority. He has no money in his purse, so he cannot pressure others with wealth. He commands no troops, so he cannot compel obedience through force. Only his reputation as a hero is known throughout the realm. But for resettling refugees, this heroic reputation is actually a burden, and Your Majesty’s regard and trust in him only makes matters worse…”

“Hmm?”

Zhao Ruosu immediately knelt down. Han Ruzi gestured for him to rise. “Speak.”

“A hero must value loyalty. Since Wang Jianhuo has gained Your Majesty’s favor, he cannot enjoy it alone but must share it with his friends. If he agrees to share, he betrays his sovereign; if he refuses, he abandons his friends. In such circumstances, when he tries to use his heroic reputation to accomplish things, it becomes even more difficult.”

Han Ruzi seemed to have an epiphany.

Zhao Ruosu waited a moment, then continued: “If Your Majesty were to severely reprimand Wang Jianhuo, letting the world believe that Ugly Wang of Luoyang has fallen into dire straits, then Wang Jianhuo could more easily refuse others’ requests for help and favor and would find it easier to ask for assistance from various parties.”

“Like the fallen Tan family?”

Zhao Ruosu nodded.

Han Ruzi thought for a while, then smiled. “Lord Zhao’s insight is brilliant, but… will Wang Jianhuo understand Our intentions?”

Zhao Ruosu cupped his hands each time before responding, never failing in propriety. “When the Son of Heaven selects and employs people, he naturally must test and temper them thoroughly. If Wang Jianhuo can understand, then all matters will proceed smoothly. If he cannot understand, why should Your Majesty stubbornly hold onto one person? It would be better to replace him with another early, lest opportunities be missed.”

Han Ruzi pondered for a moment. “Very well, you shall draft an imperial edict of censure on Our behalf.” He looked at Zhao Ruosu anew. “Who would have thought that hidden dragons and crouching tigers also surround Us.”

Zhao Ruosu immediately stepped back two paces and was about to kneel again, but the Emperor stopped him. He said: “This humble one spoke presumptuously and was fortunate to gain Your Majesty’s approval. How could I deserve to be called a ‘dragon or tiger’?”

Han Ruzi laughed. “Lord Zhao is too modest. Why not be ‘presumptuous’ once more and tell Us when the Xiongnu will lift their siege and depart northward?”

“Your Majesty should not ask this humble one about this matter. There are others who know much more clearly.”

“Who?”

Zhao Ruosu cupped his hands but did not answer.

“She is a Xiongnu.” Han Ruzi immediately understood.

Zhao Ruosu cupped his hands and bowed again, still not answering, but his meaning was obvious—precisely because the new imperial consort was Xiongnu, she was most qualified to answer the Emperor’s question.

Han Ruzi sighed softly. “Does the Emperor not even have this bit of freedom?”

Zhao Ruosu said: “There are indeed people in the world who are like idle clouds and wild cranes, living freely but benefiting no one else. The sovereign is looked up to by all people and must keep them in his heart. Bound by countless restraints, he naturally cannot be idle. The sovereign bears the greatest weight, and only because of this great weight does he gain freedom.”

“A sovereign who bears no weight is either a puppet or a foolish ruler.” Han Ruzi felt somewhat pleased in his heart. Though he was still trapped, this journey had not been entirely bad. Zhao Ruosu, Deng Cui, numerous civil and military officials… the talent had been right before the Emperor’s eyes all along, far exceeding his expectations.

Near the fourth watch, Han Ruzi finally returned to the bridal chamber.

The bride had been sitting alone by the bed for several hours. She had lifted her own veil and turned to look when she heard the door open.

“It’s you?” Han Ruzi was greatly shocked, clearly remembering that difficult-to-remember Xiongnu name.

Jin Chuiduo stood up with an angry expression on her face. Just as she was about to speak, by unfortunate coincidence, the candle on the table burned out and the room plunged into complete darkness.

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