Chapter Fifty-Nine: The Imperial Marriage Decree (1)

When the eunuch arrived at the Ye residence to deliver the imperial decree, Ye Qianran was by the lakeside pavilion, playing chess with her brother. The steward came rushing to call them, and she exchanged a bewildered glance with her brother, unsure what was happening. For the Ye family was not among the officials, had no dealings with the court, and possessed no ties of interest—how could an imperial decree suddenly arrive? Though unable to fathom it, Ye Qianran and Ye An nonetheless rose promptly to receive the decree in the courtyard.

On the way, Ye Qianran looked up at the sky. In May, the blue heavens were dotted with a few drifting white clouds, set against the brilliant red pomegranate blossoms blooming in the courtyard—a sight most pleasing. She wore a white dress, weaving through flowers and willows. Maidservants, matrons, servants, and pages knelt everywhere, her father kneeling at the fore. The eunuch stood expressionless before the assembled crowd, with an equally impassive attendant officer behind him.

Her brother pulled her to kneel beside Ye Yuandao. In the courtyard, wisteria bloomed, clusters of crystalline purple hanging from verdant vines, petals glistening in the honeyed sunlight. A gentle breeze stirred, raising petals into the air—some landing on the ground, some upon their bodies—like a delicate shower of purple flowers, carpeting the entire yard. Ye Qianran bowed her head in respectful submission.

Only then did the eunuch unfurl the bright yellow imperial decree and, in a solemn tone, read aloud: “By Heaven’s mandate, the Emperor decrees thus: It has come to our attention that Ye Yuandao’s daughter is accomplished and gracious, gentle and sincere, with outstanding character and beauty. Now that the Marquis of Wei’s grandson, Zhang Yu, is of marriageable age, a worthy bride is sought. Your esteemed daughter remains unmarried, and is deemed a perfect match for the Marquis’s grandson, a union ordained by Heaven. To fulfill this auspicious alliance, your daughter is hereby betrothed to Zhang Yu as his wife; the wedding shall be held on an auspicious day. Imperial command.”

The sunlight overhead seemed to waver. Ye Qianran felt her mind thunder, golden specks dancing before her eyes. That phrase—“betrothed to Zhang Yu as his wife”—echoed endlessly in her ears. She hazily saw her father accept the decree, heard him ask the eunuch something, though her recollection was unclear. Juanbi helped her to her feet; she turned to look at her, dazed, her soul seeming to drift far beyond the clouds.

She was helped indoors, a maid hurriedly poured her tea. She took it, even managing a word of thanks. Juanbi, seeing her state, burst into tears, but Ye Qianran smiled faintly at her, lowered her head, and sipped the tea. Her father’s voice, low and heavy, called to her, “Ran’er…” but he could not continue.

At that moment, she seemed to regain a bit of clarity. She turned, gazing at the people around her—her brother, Sister Meng, father, mother. Their eyes held a strange look as they observed her, but her gaze was fixed upon the decree in her father’s hands. She pinched her leg hard—pain, real pain, so she was not dreaming.

With trembling hands, she reached out to see it. Ye Yuandao sighed and handed her the decree. The bright yellow was harshly dazzling, yet the script was clear, each word engraved upon her heart: “betrothed to Zhang Yu as his wife; the wedding shall be held on an auspicious day.”

Suddenly, a rush of blood filled her mouth; the stifling pressure in her chest forced her to spit it out, staining her snowy robes crimson, each drop as vivid as the winter’s red plum blossoms.

The decree slipped to the floor. Juanbi quickly caught her soft body, the blood at her lips so brilliant it seemed to scorch the eyes.

Wen Qiumei’s heart tightened; Ye Yuandao immediately ordered a doctor. Yet, as if recalling something, Ye Qianran summoned all her strength, pushed aside the people before her, and staggered outside. For a moment, no one reacted, only exclaiming in shock, “Ran’er—” “Qianran—” “Miss—”. Before their words finished, her body collapsed, soft as silk. Ye An, quick as lightning, rushed forward to catch her, her form slipping slowly in his arms.

When she awoke, the room was shrouded in darkness. Outside, a gentle rain fell, the wind mournful, echoing the midnight patter upon banana leaves. Ye Qianran, supporting herself on the bed railing, saw Juanbi asleep at the bedside, tears still marking her face.

She sighed softly, carefully got out of bed, and draped a garment over Juanbi. Pulling on a thin outer coat herself, she opened the door and stepped out.

Cold wind carried the night rain against her. She pulled her coat tighter and stood alone beneath the corridor, watching the blurred silhouettes of trees swaying in the distance. The events of the day felt dreamlike.

The world is unpredictable; fate cuts like a blade.

Her life had been utterly overturned by a single decree. She no longer knew what she could do, what she could think. Everything seemed futile, every thought superfluous. Heaven’s will could not be defied.

Had it been for any other reason, she might have sought to change it. But this was destiny—one misstep could implicate the entire family.

A thousand thoughts flashed through her mind, yet she caught hold of none.

“Zhang Yu, Zhang Yu,” she murmured, a hint of derision at her lips. Last time, he let her go, but in the end, she could not escape this fate.

The name “Liuyun” slipped from her lips, tugging at her heart with strands of cold and pain. She gripped the pillar, fingers pressing hard to her chest. What should I do? How am I to wait for you?

Can I still wait for you?

When will you return? I need you, I miss you.

No, don’t return. If you don’t return, there will be no pain.

But why, even knowing you will suffer, do I still want you to come back? I truly wish for your return.

Knowing that some things cannot be changed even if you come back, I still wish for your presence, even if only for a glimpse, just one glance.

Her nails dug deeply into the pillar, her heart aching beyond measure. How she wished he would appear, just as last time when she looked up and saw him standing in the moonlight.

Those beautiful moments now brought only pain.

Reality was too cruel; memories too perfect.

What should she do? With so much grievance in her heart, she yearned for someone to share the burden, only to find there was no one suitable.

Her body slid down against the pillar—now, she had only herself, she could only hold herself close.

Suddenly, a light flickered in the room, making the small chamber seem lonelier amidst the night. Juanbi draped a cloak over her shoulders. “Miss, the wind and rain are fierce outside, come in.”

She seemed not to hear, unmoving. Juanbi sighed and squatted beside her. “Master and Madam say Young Master Zhang Yu is also handsome and of good family, not inferior to Young Master Liuyun.” Seeing no response, she continued, “Miss, marrying Young Master Zhang Yu is not so different, there’s truly little distinction.” Still, Ye Qianran gave no reply. Juanbi pressed on, “Actually…” Before she could finish, Ye Qianran suddenly rose, stirring the air, the cloak falling to the ground. Juanbi instinctively tried to steady her but was pushed aside. Ye Qianran turned and walked toward the house. Juanbi called, “Miss,” but Ye Qianran did not stop, angered. Juanbi said, “Why doesn’t Miss ask Master Wei for help?”

Her steps halted; she laughed coldly. “Why, don’t you think Zhang Yu is good enough?”

Juanbi hurried to her side. “I saw Miss ignoring me, so I deliberately said it to provoke her. After so many years, how could I not know Miss’s temperament? As for Young Master Liuyun… I know Miss likes him, and would not easily marry Young Master Zhang. So why not seek Master Wei’s help?”

Ye Qianran walked toward the house, her voice as cool as the night rain behind her. “Heaven’s will is insurmountable, imperial command cannot be defied. What can he do?”

“Did Miss know, when you were in danger in the woods, that Master Wei would find you?” Juanbi’s voice blended with the night rain, falling into Ye Qianran’s ears.

Just one step from entering the house, she turned. “What do you mean?”

Juanbi stood three or four steps away, rain slanting behind her, her tone slightly cool. “That night, we searched with torches for a long time, our confidence waning. The sky was dark, moonlight dim, and the surrounding woods echoed with wolves’ howls. Master Yan suggested we wait until dawn, lest we meet packs of wild beasts and all suffer misfortune. Master Wei didn’t hesitate—he told Master Yan, ‘You all go back first. In such darkness, she must be terrified. I must find her.’ The torchlight illuminated his face, so certain. Master Yan said nothing, turned, and led us out of the forest.”

Ye Qianran suddenly froze, as if struck by lightning, splitting apart many obscure things within her. She seemed to understand much, yet nothing at all. Juanbi continued, “In such circumstances, I had lost hope—I don’t know what drove Master Wei to persist. But I could tell he was different with Miss. As you once told me, you felt trapped in despair then, but Master Wei appeared, like a miracle. Now is also desperate—if Miss does not try, how will she know there is no way out?”

Ye Qianran stared blankly at her, ears echoing with those words: “She must be terrified. I must find her.”

He had tried so hard to find her, yet had spoken of it so lightly, making her believe it was effortless.

She hadn’t even thanked him.

Now, thinking back, she realized she had always taken his kindness for granted.

The candle inside flickered, nearly extinguished by the wind, casting the room in dim yellow light. Ye Qianran sat at the table, watching the wax drip onto the candlestick, watching the flame slowly die, staring out the door in a daze. Night rain danced, drumming upon May’s green bamboo, rustling softly. In the distance, not a light was visible; tree shadows swayed in the darkness, her thoughts drifting further and further away, gradually blurring into nothing.