MLMD -Chapter 426 Good Days

Faces—some sincere, some false—flashed before Yue Yang’s eyes, and blessings seemed to drift in from the distant heavens. Red lanterns swayed, fragrant wine flowed, and the imperial palace itself staged one joyous scene after another, with the star of the show being the now famous, wildly celebrated and powerful Marquis of Loyalty and Courage, Yue Yang.

Today, the bride, Princess Kunxing, Zhu Meixiu, was escorted to the ceremony by two palace maids. The Minister of Rites, Lin Yuji, personally presided as the officiant. Under his direction, more than a dozen palace maids began to sing the “Phoenix Tune”:

“The peach tree blossoms, its flowers ablaze;
The one who goes to wed is worthy of the home.
The peach tree blossoms, its fruit abundant;
The one who goes to wed is worthy of the family.
The peach tree blossoms, its leaves lush and dense;
The one who goes to wed is worthy of the household.”

Standing side by side before Emperor Chongzhen and Empress Zhou, Yue Yang and Zhu Meixiu performed the ritual bows and shared the ceremonial wine.

Because Zhu Meixiu was still young and not yet fully grown, she could only reach Yue Yang’s shoulder when standing beside him. Seeing his daughter in her phoenix crown and red bridal dress, standing before him and bowing, both Emperor Chongzhen and Empress Zhou felt their eyes grow moist. From now on, their thirteen-year-old daughter would become a wife, taking on the duties of honoring her in-laws, serving her husband, and bearing children. Not long ago, she had been in their arms, coquettishly clinging to them; now, the reality struck, and Empress Zhou could not hold back her tears.

But despite the sentiment, the wedding had to proceed. Sorrow gave way to joy—Emperor Chongzhen and Empress Zhou were pleased not only because their daughter had finally found a lifelong companion, but also because they had secured a formidable ally for the family. This man was not only strong in martial skills but also immensely wealthy; just the wedding alone brought fifty thousand silver coins to the imperial treasury. After covering the wedding expenses, more than twenty thousand silver coins remained, enriching the young Mr. Zhu’s private treasury by tens of thousands, which greatly lifted his spirits. A happy leader eats well, and soon the emperor was tipsy, barely able to sit up, and Empress Zhou personally escorted him back to rest in his chambers.

With the emperor indisposed, the court’s attention naturally turned to the groom. Yue Yang was exceptional at drawing resentment; at least eight or nine hundred officials and generals in the court bore grudges against him. In the past, though they clenched their teeth in anger, they were powerless against him. Now, every old grievance and lingering resentment focused squarely on him.

Facing the throngs of people before him, a man who had faced death unflinchingly on the battlefield against the Tatars felt his face pale. Even if each person offered him a single cup, it would be unbearable. What to do? Our clever Yue Yang quickly deployed the simplest yet most effective tactic… pretending to be drunk. With that, the groom was promptly escorted to the bridal chamber.

Of course, the “bridal chamber” was not inside the palace—that would violate protocol. Only the emperor could use the palace as a bedroom. Yue Yang’s chamber was instead in a newly bestowed mansion from Emperor Chongzhen.

The new mansion was expansive, covering about a hundred acres, a proper grand estate with eight courtyards and nine entrances. The gardens, artificial hills, and small lakes were all complete. But Yue Yang could not rest yet; today, the people congratulating him were all his subordinates. From Shanxi came Hu Laosan, Yue Laifu, Hailou, Chen Zhi; from the Liaodong front came Shunbao, Wu Chengfeng, Chu Di; and Fang Yizhi, Chen Zhenhui, and Wu Qing also attended. All of them raised their glasses in pride—such a boss! Even the emperor himself had given his daughter in marriage to him. Who else in all of Ming could match his prestige?

Surrounded by subordinates who had traveled thousands of miles to celebrate, Yue Yang could not feign death as he did in the palace. The only choice was to drink glass after glass. Though the wine gradually took effect, his composure was sustained by the presence of his bride, Zhu Meixiu. She quietly sat on a chair, her red veil over her head, and the subtle elegance of her scent—unmasked even by the strong aromas of food and wine—soothed his restless heart.

After finally seeing off the playful subordinates who intended to disturb the bridal chamber, the moon was high, and palace attendants had all withdrawn. Only two personal maids remained to serve Zhu Meixiu.

“Finally… peace and quiet!” Yue Yang exhaled, looking at Zhu Meixiu, resplendent in red wedding attire, seated at the edge of the bed, feeling relief flood him.

The two palace maids helped Yue Yang remove his wedding attire and handed him a silver pick, giggling and nudging him toward Zhu Meixiu. Lifting her red veil with the silver pick, Yue Yang froze. Tonight, Zhu Meixiu had undergone elaborate face and hair preparations—her hairline and neck fuzz removed—making her youthful features smooth and tender. Her red lips were charming, her black eyes like a starry river, and the shy, gentle expression in her large eyes captivated him.

At some point, the two maids had quietly left and closed the door. Yue Yang moved closer to her and gently held her hand. Upon touching it, he noticed her hands trembled slightly. Only then did he remember—he had never been in a romantic relationship with her, and she was just thirteen years old.

“If the modern police knew… would they execute me?” Yue Yang’s mind briefly entertained a very troubling thought.

“Hubby!”

A timid voice sounded. Yue Yang looked up to see Zhu Meixiu gazing at him with a mix of shyness and unease.

He tried to speak: “Princess…”

But she covered his mouth, shaking her head slightly. “Hubby, my mother warned me before my marriage. Now I am your wife. You may simply call me by my name. Do not call me ‘Princess’ anymore.” She lowered her head shyly.

Studying his bride carefully, Yue Yang discerned that while she was made up, the faint youthfulness of her features could not be concealed. He gently lifted her rounded chin, feeling the delicate softness of her face. A wave of daze swept through him—the girl who, in another time, had lost an arm to his father, and later passed away from grief at only sixteen or seventeen, was now his bride. Worse, she was still a little girl.

He reached out and gently embraced her. Zhu Meixiu nestled into his arms, inhaling the faint, pleasant scent of him. Her heart fluttered like several little deer running wild.

“So this is the smell of a man… this is the one I’m meant to spend my life with…” she thought, overwhelmed.

Suddenly, Zhu Meixiu felt a pair of large hands cup her face, followed by lips covering hers. She felt as if she were enveloped in clouds, her mind dazed, unable to think of anything else.

After an indeterminate time, she heard Yue Yang’s voice: “Meixiu, can I call you this?”

“Mm…” she nodded obediently. “You are already my husband; you can call me whatever you like.”

“Alright, it’s late. Let’s rest.”

Yue Yang summoned all his willpower to restrain himself. He helped her remove her wedding attire, leaving only her undergarments, and gently laid her on the bed, covering her with the blanket. He then lay beside her.

Zhu Meixiu initially felt shy but noticed that Yue Yang only lay beside her, doing nothing else. Curiously, she asked, “Hubby… why don’t you…?”

Yue Yang smiled wryly, reassuring her: “Meixiu, you’re too young. It’s not appropriate yet. We’ll wait a few years.”

She froze. During the wedding preparations, Empress Zhou had already instructed her about matters between men and women. She had been ready, yet her groom now said she was too young. Was he rejecting her?

Biting her lip, she overcame her shyness and slipped her slender hand from under the blanket, grasping a sensitive spot on her husband beside her. She began moving it slowly. A soft hiss escaped her lips.

Caught off guard, Yue Yang was momentarily stunned. “You little rascal… do you know what you’re doing?”

She did not answer, only increased her pace.

“Ah…”

At this point, Yue Yang admitted he had misjudged himself. He had thought he could resist, but he was clearly overestimating his willpower. With a low growl, he shifted over her…

The bridal chamber, warmed by the stove as if it were early summer, had sixteen thick dragon-and-phoenix candles, only two of which still flickered. Sandalwood smoke swirled from the celadon incense burner, mixing with candlelight to give the room an ethereal glow, like a fairyland.

In the bridal canopy, a single lamp illuminated two entwined bodies beneath the red sheets, glimpses of tender flesh visible in the crimson waves.

“Hubby… it hurts… gently… ah…”

Whether from pain or pleasure, Zhu Meixiu clung tightly to Yue Yang, her nails digging into his skin, hot tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Don’t cry, my darling,” Yue Yang murmured, kissing each tear away. “From now on, you’re my little wife. Brides shouldn’t cry.”

“Hubby, you are my husband!” she said, clutching him tightly, her breath quickening, tears falling like pearls…

After muffled groans and soft cries, a figurative “peach blossom” bloomed, and delicate, somewhat naive moans gradually filled the room…

Dawn broke. Yue Yang opened his eyes to see his small, fair-skinned wife sleeping soundly beside him, her face rosy like an apple. Her smooth arms were draped over his back, and one slender leg rested on his.

Gently nudging her shoulder, he heard her murmur in her sleep: “Mother… don’t disturb me, let me sleep a bit longer.”

Yue Yang laughed and gently tapped her little bottom. “Still sleeping? The sun is nearly up!”

“Mm…” Zhu Meixiu slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she saw was Yue Yang’s smiling face. She suddenly remembered she was no longer in the palace, but in the Prince Consort’s residence.

“Ah!” she exclaimed, nearly jumping. “Oh no… I need to pay respects to Father and Mother soon! Xiao Ran… Xiao Yu… come help me and my husband get dressed and wash up!”

“Creak…”

At her command, the door opened, and her two personal maids entered with basins, towels, and toiletries. They had likely been waiting outside for a while. Yue Yang noticed that the two girls kept their heads lowered, blushing, likely from overhearing the previous night.

They assisted Yue Yang and Zhu Meixiu with dressing. Zhu Meixiu did so naturally, unclothed as they helped, and Yue Yang followed suit—after all, he had long been accustomed to a pampered lifestyle in Ming.

After washing and dressing, they had breakfast and proceeded to Kunning Palace to see Empress Zhou and the newly finished morning court session of Emperor Chongzhen. Seeing Yue Yang with Zhu Meixiu, whose walk was slightly unsteady, Empress Zhou realized her precious daughter had already been… well, “experienced” by this man. She sighed, drawing her daughter close to whisper to her, while Yue Yang was summoned to speak with the emperor.

Strangely, Yue Yang, who was usually indifferent to Chongzhen’s presence, felt awkward today—perhaps guilty after “consuming” the emperor’s daughter.

“Zhenghong… sit!” Today, Chongzhen was unusually amiable, bringing a stool for Yue Yang. “Zhenghong, you just married the princess. Can you stay in the capital a few more days?”

Yue Yang shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Your Majesty. There are many matters in Shandong demanding my attention. Besides, I haven’t visited my grandmother in Shanxi for nearly a year. I intend to return soon to see her. She is quite old, and I worry about her.”

Chongzhen was silent for a long moment before asking, “Will you take the princess with you?”

“Of course,” Yue Yang replied. “Since Your Majesty has married the princess into the Yue family, she is now a Yue daughter-in-law. I must take her with me home.”

“Very well…” Chongzhen nodded and shifted topics. “Zhenghong, yesterday I received news that Zhang Xianzhong is causing trouble in Sichuan. Sun Chuanting has petitioned the court for grain and funds to suppress the bandits. While the treasury has some silver, there is little grain. Can you arrange for supplies from Shanxi or Shandong to be sent to Sichuan?”

Yue Yang shook his head. “Your Majesty, Shanxi is under significant pressure. As of last month, over three hundred thousand refugees were received. Feeding and caring for them daily is a massive expense. Although Shanxi had a decent harvest, there is little surplus. Shandong, having recently implemented new policies, must still support Liaodong. Therefore, grain cannot be spared at the moment.”

Chongzhen fell silent, then asked, “Zhenghong… is there truly no way?”

Seeing the emperor’s troubled expression, Yue Yang sighed. “There is a solution. A few days ago, I made contact with some Western traders in Weihaiwei, Shandong. I told them they could buy goods here, but half of the payment must be in grain, not just silver. I estimate grain shipments will arrive in a few months, though the exact amount is uncertain. Ten thousand dan of grain, however, should be feasible.”

Though Yue Yang knew unscrupulous merchants like Lawrence would exploit the locals, he could not guarantee quantities, so he under-reported. Even ten thousand dan was substantial for Chongzhen, enough to feed Sun Chuanting for half a year. “If Zhang Xianzhong is not eliminated this time, I will have no mercy,” he said, his eyes glinting sharply.

Yue Yang smirked inwardly. The Zhu family always had this approach—they were stingy, yet insisted on proper results. But he understood. Since his accession, the emperor had had little peace; even with Liaodong problems resolved, disasters and rebellions continued, keeping the Ming treasury on the brink. No wonder he became irritable.