Chapter Twenty-Five: Bridal Chamber Candlelight, An Unexpected Guest

Bridge Manor, within the boudoir of Bridge.

Before a bronze mirror, Bridge applied a touch of powder to her face. Dressed in a crimson gown, her hair adorned with pearls and jade, her skin fairer than snow, she was truly radiant in her beauty.

Behind her, Little Bridge was combing Bridge’s long hair, her bright eyes tinged with reluctance, for her elder sister was about to be wed.

“Sister, I…” Little Bridge’s voice quivered.

“A man should marry, a woman should wed. Why cry?” Bridge smiled gently and wiped the tears from Little Bridge’s cheeks. “Besides, I’m not marrying far away. If you miss me, just come to visit.”

Sniffling, Little Bridge nodded, but she couldn’t bear the thought. Without her sister, how quiet their home would become. The thought made her even sadder; she wished the day would hurry by so she could visit, and Chu Feng wished she would come over as well.

At that moment, the sound of drums and gongs grew closer. Bridge Rui strode in briskly, smiling as he called, “Daughter, are you ready? The procession is almost here.”

As his voice faded, Little Bridge opened the door. Bridge slowly lowered her bridal veil; soon, she would no longer be of the Bridge family. A daughter married off was like water poured out—returning to her maiden home would bring shame. Such was the custom, a rather archaic one.

Soon, Chu Feng arrived with the wedding procession, drums and gongs resounding. Little Bridge supported Bridge as they stepped out. Chu Feng, seeing Little Bridge’s exquisite beauty, pressed his lips together, but Little Bridge gave him a fierce glare; she always suspected Chu Feng was deceiving them.

Supporting Bridge’s arm, as they neared Chu Feng, Little Bridge whispered, “Chu Feng, treat my sister well, or I won’t forgive you!”

Chu Feng replied awkwardly, thinking to himself how it was a pity he couldn’t marry such a pretty sister-in-law—but there would be opportunities, she wouldn’t escape.

After the formalities, the bride entered the sedan chair amidst the festive clamour. Chu Feng understood that Bridge would be the only one he’d wed with such grand ceremony. She was his official wife, her status unparalleled. Unless divorced, he could only take concubines.

The wedding party, accompanied by drums and laughter, made their way to Chu Manor. The ceremony began, though the absence of parents was regrettable.

At last, Chu Feng carried Bridge to the bridal chamber. Along the way, he savored the softness of her hand and the delicate fragrance at his nose.

Chu Feng knew this was only the beginning; guests would trickle in throughout the afternoon, and not until after the banquet could he claim his bride.

Ah, so many tedious rituals.

He gently set Bridge down and was about to leave when a clear, melodious voice came from beneath the veil: “Husband, wait a moment.”

Chu Feng turned to see Bridge’s slender fingers entwined in hesitation, clearly she had something to say.

“Husband, since we have married, I will not regret it. But I wish to know—was it true, what you said about my father dying in war?”

---

Bridge had kept this question to herself for a long time, unable to hold it in any longer.

“It’s true. Without me, your father would die,” Chu Feng answered solemnly. He spoke honestly; without his intervention, Bridge Rui would perish.

Perhaps because of his presence, Yuan Shu’s northern campaign had been hastened; he wasn’t sure if this was good or bad, only hoping that the butterfly’s wings would not stir too great a storm.

“Mm,” Bridge replied softly. For some reason, she trusted him, sensing that Chu Feng had not lied. Otherwise, she would never have agreed to marry him.

---

Afternoon, Chu Manor’s courtyard.

Countless wooden tables were arranged, and the entire courtyard was filled with the aroma of meat—pork, beef, lamb simmering in cauldrons, tempting all who beheld it.

As dusk approached, the villagers arrived, a little shy, each bringing something—a couple of eggs, two pounds of wheat—tokens of goodwill for the wedding. Chu Feng accepted them all, hoping that, in time, he could help them improve their lot, if he had the chance.

By dusk, the tables were full.

Considering the poor lighting, Chu Feng planned to begin the banquet before dark, so it would end before nightfall and the guests could depart.

At a shout, the servants began serving the dishes.

Such a grand table was a novelty; everyone crowded together, laughing as chickens, ducks, fish, and meat were set before them, delighted beyond measure.

Eat and eat—not enough to go around.

At first, the villagers were reserved, but soon they ate heartily. Chu Feng couldn’t help but smile, remembering his own childhood feasts—what a whirlwind of appetite!

Ah, poverty was the cause; as wealth increased, people ate less, and plenty was left behind, save for those who packed food to take home.

---

The sun set; the banquet ended.

Darkness descended upon the earth once more.

The guests dispersed, and silence prevailed.

Outside the manor, in a woodland glade, two to three hundred men in black lay hidden.

Each armed with short blades and crossbows, their faces cold and resolute, ready to face death.

A scout returned swiftly, reporting, “Master, Chu Feng’s banquet is over and all guests have left.”

“Good. Tonight is his death night,” Yuan Yao grinned wickedly beneath the night sky.

“Deng Li, remember—cause no trouble. Go straight to Chu Manor, kill Chu Feng, and withdraw at once,” Yuan Yao instructed his captain.

---

“Rest assured, Master!” Deng Li responded confidently.

As he turned to leave, Yuan Yao laughed sinisterly, “Oh, and don’t harm Bridge. After you kill Chu Feng, bring Bridge to me. Tonight, I’ll celebrate my wedding night with her!”

“Yes, sir!” Deng Li nodded.

---

Chu Manor, under the night.

Chu Feng, having drunk a little, felt slightly tipsy. Gazing at the brightly lit bridal chamber, he couldn’t help but smile. He had been in the late Han for several months, and tonight was his first taste of pleasure.

Ah, not easy! Others in three months may have already ridden into battle, seized cities; he himself was still barely growing—development was hard in these times.

If not for his convenient father, he would scarcely have had enough money and grain to support his endeavors.

Enough—on this joyous day, he didn’t wish to dwell on worries.

With that, he pushed open the door.

The bridal chamber was filled with a delicate fragrance. On the bed, Bridge heard the door open and grew nervous, clutching her skirt, uncertain what to do.

A first time for both.

“Cough, cough,” Chu Feng cleared his throat. Truth be told, he hadn’t been in such a situation for long, and so formal—he didn’t know what to do.

He slowly lifted Bridge’s veil.

Beneath the shimmer of pearls and jade was a face of breathtaking beauty. Bridge’s bright eyes met Chu Feng’s; their gazes locked, adding a tender charm to the moment.

Chu Feng felt his heart race, his throat dry.

“Husband, from now on, I am yours. Please treat me kindly,” Bridge said softly, closing her eyes.

Her fingers moved toward her sash, about to undress and fulfill their marriage, when a hurried voice rang out:

“Master, Master, disaster!”

It was Uncle Li. Chu Feng’s brows furrowed—just when things were about to happen, damn it.

He opened the door and frowned at once; screams echoed from the front courtyard, clearly intruders had arrived.

“Master, it’s bad! A large group of men in black have stormed the manor, killing everyone they see. Please come with me, quickly!” Uncle Li cried in alarm.

He knew well these were likely Yuan Yao’s men. What must come has come—such is fate. Since ancient times, the houses of emperors were ever ruthless.

Chu Feng turned, took up his bow and arrows and his great halberd, donning two layers of armor.

“Husband, what’s happening?”

Bridge heard the sounds of battle and called out anxiously.

“No matter, rest easy. I’ll be back soon,” Chu Feng replied, stroking her delicate cheek, then leaned down to kiss her smooth forehead with a gentle smile.

With that, Chu Feng strode out, bow in hand. He fired three flaming arrows into the night sky—signals, arrows to pierce the clouds.