Chapter 14#

Hua Jinian looked at Wu Qiuping unconsciously. His water-red lips trembled slightly, and the faint heroic spirit between his brows appeared somewhat fragile due to his bewildered gaze. “Getting married?” the young man asked in confusion. “Married to whom?”

Wu Qiuping laughed, “Don’t look at me with such jealousy. Don’t worry… this time it’s not some peerless beauty from a noble family. It’s just a small concubine being promoted to the main wife, named Cui’er. I just don’t know why it’s being made so grand.”

Hua Jinian trembled, remained silent for a long time, and then began to laugh in a low voice, cursing, “So… I feel disgusted when I see women.” Wu Qiuping didn’t understand this sentence. He only knew from years ago that this child had somewhat of a father complex, so he teased, “Little Young Master, are you jealous that the beauty is marrying someone else, or are you blaming the Fortress Master for marrying someone else?”

Hua Jinian’s expression changed drastically. His mind was filled only with the roaring of this sentence. The sky was cut by fragmented sentences into stunned scars—was it Father… or Tianxiang… who was he blaming? Was it discovered? Who said it—

Wu Qiuping only felt a flash of rainbow light pass by, followed by the medicine bowl overturning and juice splashing everywhere. He drew the whisk from his waist to block, his hand numb from the shock as he took the blow. His expression changed abruptly, first to shock, then to rage. He glared at Hua Jinian, who held a sword in his hand, and cursed, “You want to kill me? Just for a joke? You want to kill me?—”

He stared at Hua Jinian for a long time, then suddenly looked up to the sky and laughed wildly, “Ha! What virtue or ability do I, a poor Daoist, have? It turns out I’ve raised an ungrateful wretch with my own hands!”

Saying this, he flicked his sleeves fiercely and strode out of the pavilion. Hua Jinian watched Wu Qiuping walk away, a look of desolate pain appearing on his face. He wanted to stumble after him, but eventually collapsed onto the couch, slapping it and laughing loudly, “Haha, go, go, everyone go! It’s cleaner if everyone leaves!”

He laughed to the extreme, feeling his throat gradually becoming hoarse, yet he continued to laugh uncontrollably. Finally, he laughed until he clutched his abdomen, his body curling up. His ink-black long hair was scattered over the couch, contrasting with his pale-as-paper face and water-red lips, adding a touch of misery. He giggled, his forehead covered in cold sweat, the bitter smell of medicine filling the room. He choked with low sobs, gasping, and laughed hoarsely and wildly, “Go, all of you go, don’t leave a single one behind. Don’t treat me like a child, I’m not! Take your coaxing tricks to someone else! I can bear it, I can bear anything.”

Outside Zhaohua Pavilion, a group of little girls his age were still playing drop the handkerchief. Clearly the same age, but inside and outside the room were two different worlds. The young man heard their tender voices singing together, rising and falling melodiously: “Sparse woods dotted with impending snow, bamboo forest obliquely closed, naturally clear and beautiful, haggard for him, gaining pity…”

“Wishing to join hands with that person, wine fragrance and tears fall before the gentleman, meeting with hate, always speechless…”

Hua Jinian’s laughter gradually ceased. He looked outside, his fingers, calloused thinly from sword practice, clutching the window frame near the bed. He looked at the group of peers, lowered his eyebrows slightly. The ethereal and lingering singing flew across the courtyard into the window. A few strands of long hair stuck to his water-red lips. Unknown how much time passed, his eyes slowly opened—gentle, sorrowful, introverted, as if reflecting the myriad red dust of the world.

—“Little Young Master, are you jealous that the beauty is marrying someone else, or are you blaming the Fortress Master for marrying someone else?”

Which one is it? Is it neither, or both?

Red clothes fade, the fragrant heart is bitter; remembering the flowers blooming, but not the year.

—“There is nothing more disgusting than the admiration and romance within Futu Fortress.”

This sudden wedding was still being prepared according to the rules. Although children of the Jianghu do not stick to trifles, this did not apply to Futu Fortress, built of gold, jade, and emerald. Gilded invitations were sent to major sects. Those sects that had stood tall in the Jianghu for a hundred years had gates made of solid nanmu wood five inches thick, painted with more than nine layers of black lacquer, and studded with hundreds of copper nails, requiring more than ten strong men to push open together—yet at this moment, a thin wedding invitation was inserted obliquely into them, penetrating several inches into the wood, permanently carving a shameful scar on the gate.

This didn’t look like delivering a wedding invitation; it was clearly a declaration of war. The wedding banquet of Futu Fortress had no seats reserved for those Jianghu gangs. It was just a notification, to shake the Jianghu, to let all the ugly thoughts mixed with jealousy and fear float to the surface, and then suppress them with the sound of gongs and drums resounding through the sky.

Hua Jinian also had such a card in his hand. A brush dipped in gold paint had written two names squarely on the bright red Cai Hou paper. Hua Jinian lay on the bed, looking up at these two names, looking at them upside down, and also looking at the auspicious peony printed on the paper. He traced the outline of the peony with his finger, reciting poetry with a grin: “Peonies are good, peonies are still good… Only the peony is the true national beauty; when it blooms, it moves the capital.”

He moved his finger away, his fingertip stained with a thin layer of gold powder, and continued to chuckle in a low voice: “Peonies are good, unlike idle flowers and wild grasses… Heh, like these flowers and grasses, loved by people at will, living and dying at people’s will, then sorrowful and bitter with no one to blame…”

Someone outside Zhaohua Pavilion shouted, “Little Young Master, the time is approaching…”

Hua Jinian responded, then turned over and sat up from the bed. He took off the wrinkled outer robe, picked up the neatly folded bright red outer robe from the side, and put it on quietly in front of the bronze mirror. The robe was embroidered with auspicious beasts and clouds, layers of golden silk threads decorating wishes for growing old together. The young man was no longer smiling, his expression humble and respectful. Layer by layer of ceremonial robes, tying the silk ribbon at the waist, then the white jade belt, putting on the stone-blue sachet and the double dragon ring pendant. Finally, he gathered his scattered hair into the coiled dragon jade crown, a pure white jade hairpin slowly inserting through the gold crown, fixing everything in place.

He looked at the mirror and said softly, “Alright, the madness is over. Must not let people look down on me anymore.”

The young man straightened his hem, stood up from the mirror, and pushed open the door with both hands. Outside the door, two rows of maids in full dress stood neatly. The leader led Hua Jinian out of Zhaohua Pavilion, saying anxiously, “Little Young Master, hurry… the sedan chair has already entered the mountain gate.”

Hua Jinian smiled and walked forward slowly. He walked through the corridor, out of the courtyard. The surroundings were still the trees wrapped in red silk, the trees still filled with countless red lanterns, the lake still with flickering lotus lamps, only there was a thicker red carpet, passing through the White Tiger Room, paving over the thousand stone steps, leading straight to the Ganlu Room at the very top. The red carpet was embroidered with breathtaking golden phoenixes, which, on this straight road, following the slope of the stone steps, looked elegant as if ready to fly.

Hua Jinian gradually stopped, looking at the pillars in the water supported by gold lotus bases, suddenly remembering what happened three years ago. That was also a night of debauchery. Tianxiang had her hair in a spiral bun that day, wearing heavy makeup. He stood on this road reluctant to leave, looking forward with anticipation, waiting for his father.

Three years passed in a snap of the fingers, the bright moon always shining, flowers blooming in all seasons, but the him three years later not only didn’t wait for his father, even Tianxiang was gone—Tianxiang was no longer Tianxiang, she was Cui’er. Cui’er was no longer Cui’er, she was his mother in name. Fate plays with people, worldly affairs are like chess. Everyone is played with by the gods and buddhas, yet on the surface, they still have to force a smile like this.

In the distance, a sedan chair carried by twenty people came from the other end of the road, following the vermilion carpet, swaying with each step. Hua Jinian smiled faintly, took three steps forward, and knelt on the ground. The woman covered with a red bridal veil, dressed in a colorful cape, her huge phoenix crown adorned with thumb-sized pearls. Hua Jinian knelt and kowtowed to her three times, kneeling on this red carpet that stretched to the horizon in the colorful candlelight night, and called out respectfully, “Hua Jinian pays respects to Mother.”

The woman extended a hand towards him. That hand looked white as jade in the night, nails painted with red dye. Hua Jinian lowered his long eyelashes, supported that hand on the back of his own hand, and carefully led her, step by step up the auspicious and festive carpet, stepping devoutly and cautiously up each step, walking past the hall where everyone gathered to toast, walking towards the main hall where wedding candles burned high and large red ‘Double Happiness’ characters were pasted.

The night was mellow, the candle tears slightly fragrant. The corner of Hua Jinian’s mouth held a wisp of gentle and restrained smile. His hand under the candlelight was even more slender and beautiful than the woman’s. At this moment, he stood smiling in the main hall, his back straight, his bright red hem blown up, wide sleeves catching the wind. In this luxurious Ganlu Room carved with gold and jade, he was as handsome as an immortal.

After the incident with Wu Qiuping, several hall masters looked at him with a bit of coldness. But Hua Jinian’s clear and gentle eyes remained smiling. Then he lifted his hem, knelt on both knees, kowtowed and called out, “May the two of you enjoy eternal fortune and longevity, and grow old together hand in hand!” Hundreds of people in the hall, from hall masters to meritorious warriors, all knelt down in unison at this moment, shouting, “May the two of you enjoy eternal fortune and longevity, and grow old together hand in hand! May Futu Fortress advance a hundred feet further and look down proudly upon the Jianghu!”

Hua Qianjue, dressed in dark red wedding attire, walked down from the high platform, a wicked smile on his lips. Neither Hua Jinian’s handsomeness nor the pearls on the woman’s phoenix crown made him lose a bit of his unruly spirit. He just smiled like this, swaying with each step, walking down from the seat slightly drunk, reaching out to lift the woman’s red veil. That bit of solipsistic wildness was displayed vividly, a peerless hero.

Hua Jinian smiled and lowered his eyebrows. In a trance, he felt that the man was walking straight towards him. In a trance, he thought those sharp deep eyes were staring at him. But in the end, the man stopped in front of the bride, telling him how ridiculous this illusion was. The hair at the young man’s temples was so close he could even feel the breeze raised when the red veil was lifted… Within a foot’s distance, does it refer to this moment? The distance of the ends of the earth, does it speak of this time?

He was still kneeling. Everyone in the hall was kneeling, except for the couple. The wedding veil casually discarded by the man after lifting it floated slowly, slowly in the air, and finally actually covered the young man’s head, slowly obscuring his smile that was close to stiffening. The young man blinked his eyes under the red cover, and blinked again, until the sparse laughter around him became faintly discernible. Only then did he slowly raise his hand and slowly lift the red cover from his head. The smile under the veil was still blooming, seeming to be frozen there forever, gentle, respectful, restrained. Seeming like joy, yet also sorrow.

Who entered your dreams when you were young? It was also such a big red sedan chair, gongs and drums playing, no gorgeous red silk and satin, only boundless Manjusaka flowers. —“In this life and this world, I wish for mutual love.”

There is a secret, heaven knows, earth knows, I know, but you don’t know. One night the red waves were turned, heaven knows, earth knows, I know, but you don’t know. Therefore, this budding affection will always be one step behind. This most disgusting romance and admiration in Futu Fortress, I know, but you don’t know…

Firecrackers began to boom outside the hall. The young man seemed to wake up from a dream, looked around, and found everyone was looking at him, with worry or concern. So he smiled, stood up from the ground, clapped his hands, and beauties, each with their own merits, entered gracefully from every corner of the main hall like flowing water, holding fine wine. Fine wine aged for decades, beauties in their prime.

The venue instantly heated up. In just the time for a few cups of tea, cups were exchanged and toasts were made. Su Meiniang, drunk to the point of excitement, casually tore off her outer robe, wearing a close-fitting bright red small jacket, laughing like trembling flower branches. The two hosts of the banquet had already left this mixed feast, leaving only Hua Jinian with a gentle smile, standing in the middle of the main hall, greeting the drunken guests who were laughing and cursing as they came and went. Even if the scene wasn’t “five-flower horse, thousand-gold fur,” it was “red crisp hands, yellow teng wine.” Everyone enjoyed themselves to the fullest, and the whole world was drunk.