Chapter Fifteen: New Tales and the Schemes of Future Brothers-in-Law

Zhu Yang mocked Li Jinglong for being a sycophant, yet little did he know that at this very moment, Li Jinglong was wishing he could tear Zhu Yang limb from limb.

Li Jinglong’s marriage proposal had been rejected, and this was hardly a secret. As a noble of the state, it took less than a quarter of an hour for all of Ying Tian— from the highest ministers and dignitaries to the common folk— to know every detail of the affair.

The gossips who had already retired for the night found themselves stirred to a new frenzy, combining the tales of Zhu Yang and Xu Miaojin with the news of the rejected engagement, creating a veritable mountain of juicy gossip.

“I always said Zhu Yang and Xu Miaojin grew up together—why did you never believe me?”

“Who says I didn’t believe it? I’ve supported Zhu Yang and Xu Miaojin from the start!”

“So Zhu Yang and Xu Miaojin were really torn apart by the Duke of Wei?”

“Who says otherwise? I saw it myself—what a tragedy…”

“Really? Tell us, what exactly happened?”

…

Each tavern was filled with crowds who ordered a pot of wine and a plate of spiced fennel, gossiping eagerly about rumors they had picked up elsewhere.

“I have a friend…”

“I once heard from my neighbor’s cousin’s uncle…”

“I heard from a cook who once worked at the Xu household…”

“Believe it or not, my grandfather worked for the Xu family in the last generation, so he saw it with his own eyes…”

Though each began their tale differently, all told the same story.

“It was a dark and windy night. Zhu Yang and Xu Miaojin were walking hand in hand down the street when suddenly the young master of the Duke of Wei’s household appeared with a band of men, blocking their way.

This young master held his head high, nostrils flared, one hand wielding a club twenty meters long and five meters thick; the other held the leashes of three massive wolfhounds. Do you know how terrifying those beasts were?

It’s said these hounds were raised from birth on the flesh of Northern Yuan people, making them especially fierce. Back in the day, Prince Zhongshan even led them into battle—several Northern Yuan generals lost their lives to those hounds.

The young master pointed at Zhu Yang and warned him to stay away from Xu Miaojin. If he didn’t listen, the club would come down on his head, and the hounds would feast on his flesh and drink his blood.”

But Zhu Yang and Xu Miaojin were deeply in love. How could Zhu Yang leave? He clung tightly to her hand. The young master, seeing Zhu Yang refuse to bow, raised the enormous club and struck at Zhu Yang’s head. Xu Miaojin, unable to watch her beloved harmed, threw herself in front of him.

Desperate, Xu Miaojin shielded Zhu Yang with her own body. The young master was ruthless; he did not hesitate, but brought the club down regardless. Poor Xu Miaojin—she was delicate by nature, how could she withstand such a brutal blow? She fainted on the spot and later even lost her memory!

Seeing his beloved collapse for his sake, Zhu Yang knelt in the street and begged the young master to save Xu Miaojin. Yet the young master ignored all ties of kinship and instead threatened Zhu Yang: if he could endure the hounds’ bites, and promised never to trouble Xu Miaojin again, he would take her home and seek treatment for her.

Zhu Yang, heartbroken as he cradled his unconscious beloved, knew that without swift medical attention, her condition would worsen. After a period of struggle, he entrusted Xu Miaojin to the young master, then stripped off his clothes and allowed the hounds to be set upon him.

Those wolfhounds, famished after three days and nights without food, pounced on Zhu Yang, tearing into him for a full hour before they were finally sated and left him be.

Pity poor Zhu Yang, once a robust and strapping man, now reduced to a frail scholar.

Now, Zhu Yang had returned to Ying Tian to sit for the examinations—perhaps unable to forget Xu Miaojin, which was why he had composed that poem and painted that picture during the competition.

Perhaps Xu Miaojin had regained her memory, which was why she would rather provoke a feud between the Duke of Wei and the Duke of Cao than marry Li Jinglong. She still loved Zhu Yang, still waited for him…”

So a new version of the love story was born, this time without any guiding hand, but entirely the product of gossip and wild imagination, inspired by old romances of a bygone dynasty.

The stories differed in details, but the villain was always the same: the young master of the Duke of Wei’s household. The ending, too, was unchanging: Zhu Yang departed wounded, Xu Miaojin lost to unconsciousness.

Along the banks of the Qinhuai River, the courtesans listened to these tales as they wept their own tears. Though they set out late with their boats tonight, business boomed—scholars yearning for love flocked aboard, each hoping to experience a fleeting romance to remember upon waking.

…

At the Duke of Wei’s residence.

Xu Huizu sat at the head, sipping tea, while Xu Yingxu and Xu Zengshou circled around Xu Miaojin, staring at her intently.

Xu Miaojin, unnerved by their scrutiny, stamped her foot and snapped, “Second Brother, Fourth Brother, what are you staring at?”

“Little Sister, when exactly did you regain your memory? Tell your second brother—I swear I won’t laugh!” Xu Yingxu teased.

“I’ve told you a hundred times, I never lost my memory!” Xu Miaojin groaned in exasperation.

“Really? You don’t look it. Maybe we should call the imperial physician…” Xu Zengshou joked from the side.

“You…” Xu Miaojin pointed at her brothers, fuming. “I’m not speaking to you anymore!”

The brothers burst into laughter, and even Xu Huizu struggled to stifle his amusement.

“Ahem, little sister,” Xu Huizu set his teacup down, “I came today to ask—what exactly is going on between you and Zhu Yang?”

“Yes, yes… If you truly have feelings for him, the young masters of the Duke of Wei’s house hereby swear never to wield a five-meter-thick club or set three wolfhounds on him!” Xu Yingxu raised his hand in mock solemnity.

“I’m truly not speaking to you anymore!” Xu Miaojin, both embarrassed and angry, ran out.

“Now, what do we do about little sister’s marriage?” Xu Huizu turned serious as he looked at his two younger brothers.

“Our family has four sons and four daughters. Apart from our third brother who died young and our youngest sister who’s still a child, our eldest sister married the Prince of Yan, our second sister is soon to wed the Prince of Dai, and the three of us brothers have all married daughters of other distinguished families. Whether it’s the imperial clan or the nobility, the Xu family is well connected. I think little sister need not sacrifice her marriage for the sake of our family,” Xu Zengshou mused.

“I agree with Fourth Brother,” Xu Yingxu said. “But I have one concern: would His Majesty approve? After all, the marriages of our eldest and second sisters were decided by the emperor, and he has many sons… If someday he remembers that little sister is of a similar age to one of his sons…”

Xu Yingxu left the thought unfinished, but Xu Huizu and Xu Zengshou understood: should the emperor ever decide that Xu Miaojin would make a fitting bride for one of his sons, her fate would be sealed.

“To be honest, if Zhu Yang were to take first place in the examinations, he would be a worthy match for our sister. With us serving in the military and Zhu Yang as a civil official, we’d complement each other perfectly. What a pity…” Xu Zengshou sighed.

“Then let’s pressure Zhu Yang to propose to our sister!” Xu Huizu declared. “If Zhu Yang asks for her hand before the emperor makes any move, then even if His Majesty wishes to match her with his own son, it’ll be too late!”

“Forcing Zhu Yang to marry?” Xu Yingxu was stunned. “We always hear of girls being forced to marry, but forcing the man?”

“Haven’t you heard of the ‘catching a son-in-law from the list’ in the Song dynasty?” Xu Zengshou grinned.

“That’s right! That’ll work!” Xu Yingxu clapped his hands in delight. “Let’s do it!”