Hey everyone! ?? If you love adorable, unique items, check out my Etsy shop AdorableThingsByNoen! ?? Every purchase helps, and I truly appreciate your support!

  ??? Follow my shop for new releases every week!?? Share with friends & family who love cute, high-quality finds!

  Even a like, follow, or share means the world to me! ?? Thank you for your love and support!

  ___

  That afternoon, the Princess of Zhennan accompanied the Matriach of the Marquis of Guang'en to discuss the number of people participating in the upcoming wedding procession. Since Miss Yin was already of an older age and born in the year of the Rabbit, the fortune-teller had precisely calcuted that she must depart at one quarter past the Shen hour, and that the number of people in the procession must be an odd number—specifically, eleven.

  However, even the number eleven had its caveats. It was said that Rabbits cshed with those born in the year of the Rooster, were incompatible with Dragons, and conflicted with Rats. Therefore, anyone with these three zodiac signs was not permitted to be part of the wedding procession.

  First Lady Song hurriedly reviewed the list once more. Fortunately, none of the eleven individuals listed belonged to those three zodiac signs. She then had someone go inquire among the lower-ranking servants assigned to accompany the procession on the nineteenth to see if any of them had those signs. If they did, all such individuals were promptly removed from duty and repced with others.

  This Miss Yin from the Marquis of Guang'en’s household was clearly a sensible young woman. Even before entering the household, she had already begun fostering a good retionship with Song Yi’s two children, sending over clothes, shoes, and socks for them—an unmistakable sign of sincerity. On top of that, she had observed three years of mourning for her father, which made Old Lady Song look upon her even more favorably—precisely the kind of level-headed and capable girl needed to rein in Song Yi.

  The Marquis of Guang'en’s family, having lost their patriarch, was now headed by a colteral retive—the former marquis’s nephew, adopted as heir—who was also Miss Yin’s cousin. Because of this, it was difficult to follow all the traditional customs properly. Especially when it came to matchmakers: the Marquis of Changning’s family had employed none other than the wife of Lord Qin from the Court of Ceremonial Rites, while they had yet to even decide on one. So when the Princess of Zhennan offered her help, it felt like a blessing from heaven.

  The Marchioness of Guang'en had always worried about the mismatch between their families, fearing that the disparity in status would cause her daughter, as a second wife, to be looked down upon. But with the Princess of Zhennan now backing them, they could at least hold their heads high.

  After confirming the members of the bridal escort, they also finalized the menu for the banquet on the nineteenth. According to southern custom, the groom’s side would provide the banquet for the bride’s family. First Lady Song and Third Lady Song each handed the Marchioness of Guang'en a gilt-edged menu book.

  “One is from Juyi Pavilion, and the other from Shizi Pavilion. Mother-in-w-to-be, please take your pick. Whichever you prefer, we’ll have them oversee the banquet.”

  The Princess of Zhennan sat nearby, sipping tea with a smile. Seeing the Marchioness of Guang'en’s eyes redden with emotion, she understood it was out of gratitude toward the Song family for their thoroughness and respect toward Miss Yin.

  Yet in her heart, the Princess couldn’t help but sigh—this wasn’t just about giving face to Miss Yin. It was a grand and deliberate dispy to the world that the Song family was completely unaffected by the so-called “Camity Star.” Even the true Son of Heaven had personally rebuked the Ministry of Rites and the Astrological Bureau, decring their words nothing but nonsense—victims of a monk’s fearmongering.

  Old Master Song’s dramatic kneeling in front of the emperor stirred the blood of every schor in the empire. Just days ago, students of the Imperial Academy had even gathered on the street, threatening to tear down the temple responsible for spreading such lies.

  This move to turn retreat into advance—this bottom-up counterattack—was nothing short of masterful. No wonder the Song family was so prominent. With such a capable granddaughter, outstanding descendants, and wise elders, how could their family not thrive?

  The Marchioness of Guang'en had initially leaned on the Princess of Zhennan for support. But after witnessing the Song family’s genuine hospitality and meticulous preparations, her doubts and fears completely melted away. She clutched Old Lady Song’s hand with tears in her eyes, choked with emotion as she poured out her heart.

  “Sister Song, I won’t hide it from you—you know my family’s situation… Yinyin was raised under my watch. To speak frankly, if it weren’t for the three years of mourning and having a cousin like the one we have now, she…”

  She didn’t finish the sentence—but it was clear: her daughter would never have had to become someone’s second wife.

  She wiped her tears, noting that Old Lady Song hadn’t shown the slightest impatience, which moved her even more. “To marry into the Song family is Yinyin’s great fortune. You and I go way back, and even though our family fell from favor and no one would respond to our wedding invitations, you still came running to support us… I’ve met Sixth Miss and Fourth Young Master—they’re both easy to get along with… I ask for nothing more now. I just hope Yinyin can live a good life. Then, when I die, I can face her father with peace in my heart.”

  The te Marquis of Guang'en had been famous for his love and devotion to his wife. Though the couple had only one daughter, he never took concubines or produced illegitimate children. Their bond remained steadfast.

  Had he not perished on the battlefield in the northwest, the Marquisate would never have declined so far. Hearing her story, Old Lady Song and the Princess of Zhennan grew somber, as if transported back twenty years, to when the cheerful old marquis hoisted his two-year-old daughter on his shoulders before heading off to war, grinning and calling them “Sister-in-w,” asking them to look after his wife.

  But the man who once said, “One daughter is enough,” never returned—and never would.

  Overcome with grief, the Marchioness of Guang'en bit her lip and covered her mouth as tears rolled down her cheeks.

  All these years, it wasn’t that she hadn’t felt sorrow, or hadn’t missed her husband. After his death, her family had urged her to remarry, but she refused. She would rather adopt her nephew as heir and keep the marquisate alive than bear another man’s name.

  Yin Qiucheng had treated her well, refusing to take concubines or bed-maids all those years for her sake. In return, she had stayed loyal to him, raised their daughter, and preserved the Marquis of Guang'en’s legacy.

  On the day he lifted her bridal veil, he had said, “Whether in heaven above or the underworld below, this life, we’ll be together.” She would care for their daughter for a few more years, then go to him.

  In the adjoining warm room, Xiang Mingzi and Song Chuyi had heard everything and were left speechless.

  After a long silence, Xiang Mingzi realized tears were falling from her eyes. She gripped Song Chuyi’s hand and whispered, her voice thick with emotion, “So in this world, there really are men like the old Marquis of Guang'en—deeply devoted, truly honorable—not all of them are heartless bastards like my father.”

  Song Chuyi was dazed by what she’d heard. Some people found mutual love so deep they would live and die for each other; others could only become enemies, walking down opposite paths. Her dark, clear eyes were bnk with confusion. She pressed her lips together but said nothing.

  Everyone had their own fate. Some people, perhaps, would never have the fortune of a husband like the te marquis—just like her.

  Outside, First Lady Song and Third Lady Song also couldn’t help tearing up. They stepped forward to comfort the Marchioness of Guang'en: “The old Marquis must surely feel your devotion, even from the grave…”