Page 75 of The Scholar's Improper Wife

What did that nod mean? Does it mean she has forgiven me? If so, why didn’t she reply to any of my letters?

He’d sent three letters since, each more desperate than the last. The first had explanations, the second held apologies and promises of their future life, the third had simply begged for her forgiveness.

Silence had been her only response.

Will she be there?The question haunted him.

As dawn finally broke, washing his room in pale gold light, Ting-zhi gave up on the pretense of rest. He dressed absent-mindedly, pulling on the wedding robes without thinking. First came the bright red inner robes, then the black outer robe embroidered with cranes and auspicious clouds. Next came the broad crimson sash tied around his waist, and finally the great red silk rosette that marked him as the groom.

He had imagined marrying Yun-si a thousand times, but never like this. Never with this sick uncertainty churning in his stomach.

Wen-xin appeared in the doorway, dressed in brand-new robes the vibrant red of ripe hawthorn berries that made him look like a lucky child from festive New Year paintings.His cheerful expression faltered when he saw Ting-zhi. “Young Master,” he said carefully, tilting his head as he studied Ting-zhi’s face, “you look like a ghoul.”

“Wen-xin.” Ting-zhi pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger, feeling the dull ache behind his eyes. “Didn’t the matchmaker make you memorize all the auspicious words you are supposed to say today? I don’t think ‘ghoul’ is a word that is supposed to appear in any of them.”

Wen-xin quickly straightened and rattled off the list of auspicious phrases with the singsong cadence of rote memorization, counting them off on his small fingers. “Harmony till your hairs are white! Auspicious union for a hundred years! Courtesy between husband and wife! And most importantly—” He drew himself up to his full, unimpressive height, looking tremendously pleased with himself. “To beget a precious child soon!”

“Perfect,” Ting-zhi said dryly.

Wen-xin beamed up at him. Despite everything, Ting-zhi felt his heart softened with affection, and he patted the boy’s head gently.

Together, they made their way from Bamboo Heart Abode, following the familiar stone path toward the clan school. The wedding rites and banquet would take place in the school’s main reception hall. The hall had already been transformed with cascades of crimson silk and elaborate scarlet rosettes.

The bridal sedan chair waited outside the main door, its crimson curtains swaying slightly in the breeze. Ting-zhi mounted his horse, its bridle already adorned with a matching red silk rosette. His fingers tightened briefly on the reins before he deliberately loosened his grip. Whatever easy charm he normally wore was absent today, replaced by a careful composure that threatened to crack whenever he breathed toohard. Around him, the blare ofsuonasfilled the air, their shrill notes heralding the start of the procession.

Five minutes. That was all it took to cross from the clan school to the Shen Residence. Funny, but he and Yun-si had never used this road before, preferring to use the little door connecting her home and the clan school.

The front door of the Shen compound stood open, flanked by servants in festive dress holding more red silk rosettes mounted on poles. And then Ting-zhi’s breath caught as Yun-si appeared, flanked by her siblings.

Her red wedding robes were embroidered with phoenixes and auspicious clouds, layer upon layer of the finest silk that rustled softly with each small movement. The gold threads in the embroidery caught the sunlight in tiny flashes, so bright they made his eyes unexpectedly sting and water. An elaborately embroidered red veil obscured everything except the faint outline of her profile. She moved with the careful, deliberate precision of someone who could not see where she stepped, one hand lifted slightly to the side as Chun-xi guided her forward with gentle touches to her elbow.

She’s here.

Ting-zhi let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. It shuddered out of him, his shoulders dropping a fraction, and for just a moment the careful mask slipped. Relief flooded through him so intensely it felt almost like pain.

The matchmaker, a plump woman with a voice that could carry across three courtyards, stepped forward with practiced ceremony, her arms spread wide as though to embrace the entire assembly. Her voice rang out with the particular cheer of someone who has performed this role a hundred times and knows exactly how to make each phrase land with maximum auspicious weight.

“Step over the threshold, Bride! Leave behind the home of your father, and enter the home of your future! May your path be smooth as silk, your union blessed with harmony, and may the heavens grant you sons to carry on the family line!”

Yun-si hesitated.

It was only a single, breathless heartbeat—the smallest pause, barely noticeable. But Ting-zhi saw it. Felt it in his chest, his own breathing suspended.

His grip tightened on the reins until his knuckles showed white against his skin. The horse shifted beneath him again, responding to his tension.

Please,he thought, with an intensity that surprised him.Please, Si-er.

Then, with a deliberate grace, she lifted one foot and stepped cleanly, decisively, over the raised wooden sill of the Shen Residence doorway. The matchmaker let out a delighted cry of approval, and the watching servants echoed it with enthusiastic calls of congratulation.

The matchmaker steered Yun-si into the sedan chair, still booming blessings. Bearers bowed, then lifted—curtains whispering shut as she settled inside.

Musicians struck up the bridal march and the procession moved again. Behind the sedan chair, wagons carrying Yun-si’s dowry stretched out behind them, a display of the Shen family’s wealth and regard that would be noted and discussed by every household they passed.

They began the ceremonial circuit of the neighborhood, processing slowly through streets Ting-zhi had known all his life. Curious onlookers and neighbors stood at the sides of the street to congratulate them and share in the good fortune of the day.

Children darted alongside the procession, laughing and calling out. Wen-xin, taking his role very seriously, threw wedding candies from his basket, scattering them in wide arcsthat made the children shriek with delight and scramble after the sweet treats. Then finally, the procession turned back toward the clan school where the marriage rites would take place.

YUN-SI DID NOT REALLYremember anything except that it was red all around. Red. Red. Red.