The emperor suddenly remembered: “Oh, right. Someone, bring seats.” Being seated meant the main topic was finally about to begin.
The emperor changed his previous verbose manner, speaking concisely and clearly: he wanted to bestow Xue Miaoyin in marriage to An Jin, and as for me, having been childless for two years, I would be demoted to a concubine.
An Jin lowered his head and said: “Please forgive this subject for not being able to agree.”
The Emperor and the Empress exchanged a glance, laughing: “My dear official and his wife are deeply in love, no wonder he cannot accept. How about this: the two wives will stand side by side, without distinguishing between senior and junior?”
I was torn between laughter and tears. It seemed they were bargaining over a cabbage. An Jin still lowered his head and said in a deep voice: “This subject cannot agree.”
The Emperor was slightly stunned. “Could it be that Miss Xue should become a concubine? This is really…” He looked at An Jin helplessly and stroked his mustache.
The Empress looked at An Jin with a scrutinizing gaze. An Jin remained unmoved. “This subject cannot marry.” The Emperor gradually lost his smile, first giving me a cold look, then staring at An Jin. “Are you defying the imperial decree?” “Your Majesty is benevolent and will not issue a decree that goes against his subject’s wishes.” An Jin looked up at the dragon throne, showing no compromise. In plain words, this meant: Listen up, old Emperor, no matter how you try, I’m not marrying! The Emperor, true to his title, immediately understood the meaning. He stared intently at An Jin, and after a moment, coldly laughed: “If your wife cannot bear you a child in this lifetime, what will you do?” An Jin’s body seemed to tremble slightly, but he quickly calmed down. “Even if I have no offspring, I will never remarry.” The Emperor’s eyes narrowed to a slit. “Are you truly determined, with no regrets?” “No regrets.” “Good, good, good.” The Emperor clapped his hands. “Bring wine.” A palace maid brought a tray with a bronze wine cup. “Since you are so determined, I cannot force you,” the Emperor said with a benevolent smile.
“Who will drink this cup – you or your wife?” An Jin did not hesitate, stepping forward to take the wine cup and about to drink. I rushed to stop him. “Your Majesty, must it be drunk?” The Emperor smiled even more kindly. “It must be drunk.” “Your Majesty,” I said, holding the cup with both hands, burning with anger. “I often hear people praise Your Majesty’s benevolence, calling you a rare enlightened ruler. Why must you make things difficult for us?” The Emperor of Qi was momentarily stunned, then said: “How is this making things difficult? This is clearly a kind marriage arrangement. An Jin has defied the decree and must be punished.” “Isn’t it just remarrying? We’ll comply, we’ll comply, okay?” I gritted my teeth, my eyes hot and painful. “A Yao,” An Jin pulled me close. “I will never marry anyone else.” I was on the verge of tears. An Jin was usually so clever, why couldn’t he see a way out? Agreeing first and then finding a solution would be better than death… He raised the wine cup again to drink. I quickly stopped him, saying in grief: “Fine! Your Majesty, since you won’t leave us a way out, we’ll die together in this hall! And what you’ve done today cannot silence public opinion…”
If anything happened to us, he could add an ending and publish it under the name of the Thirteenth Young Master of the Three Kingdoms… An Jin, the Emperor, and the Empress all had strange expressions, looking somewhat stiff. Suddenly, An Jin coughed and said: “A Yao, this is not poisoned wine.” I stood there in a daze. Had I been dramatic for nothing… The Emperor finally came to his senses, stroking his beard, finally frowning as the kind smile disappeared from his face. “You two are truly devoted to each other. No wonder An Jin refuses to remarry. However, to gain something, one must lose something. I’m sure you understand my meaning.” ”This subject understands,” An Jin immediately raised the wine cup and drank it in one gulp. I couldn’t stop him and could only watch nervously. The Emperor rubbed his forehead and narrowed his eyes. “I will not mention the marriage again.” Went to the old lady’s place.” Que’er pointed in the direction of her mother-in-law’s study. “The master said the madam must be hungry, so eat something first, no need to wait for him.” ”Mm.” While we were talking, Yuanxiao had already held a stick in his mouth and flew back, his snow-white body like an arrow released from a bowstring.
I took the stick from his mouth and forcefully threw it, watching as it arced over the roof and landed directly in the courtyard on the other side.
Que’er pointed in that direction. “Isn’t that the old lady’s study…”
Yuanxiao rushed over, too fast to stop. The mother-in-law hated others entering her space, especially Yuanxiao. I hurried after him, wanting to grab him back before he could dive into the courtyard.
The courtyard was eerily quiet, with no one around. By the time I caught up, Yuanxiao had found the stick and was running back to me. I tried to pull him away but heard the study door creak open.
I thought it was An Jin coming out, but instead, I faced the mother-in-law’s pale, cold face.
Her face seemed more rigid than usual, and upon observation, her lips were trembling, as if trying to conceal an emotion too intense to suppress.
“Mother-in-law,” my heart inexplicably tightened. “My husband—”
The mother-in-law stared at me, her black eyes deep and dark as twilight. The sharp east wind rustled the leaves in the courtyard, making the silence even more unbearable. Yuanxiao whimpered, nestling close to me for support.
The mother-in-law descended the steps, walking towards me, her gaze never leaving my face.
“Juezi wine,” the stiffness on her face finally dissolved, revealing the sorrow beneath. “One wrong step, and every step goes wrong.”
“Juezi wine?” I finally awakened from my confusion. “The wine bestowed by His Majesty—”
“Ah Yao, does the An family owe you, or does Jin’er owe you?” The mother-in-law looked at me in a daze, as if asking me, yet also lamenting.
“Mother!” An Jin suddenly appeared in the half-open study doorway. “Stop talking.”
The secret imperial medicine of the Qi Kingdom’s royal family, Juezi wine, could prevent a person from bearing children, effective for both men and women. The Emperor had given three choices: marry Miao Yin, An Jin to be rendered infertile, or me to be rendered infertile.
Perhaps even the Emperor had not expected An Jin would choose to render himself infertile rather than me.
I sat on a stone stool in the courtyard, thinking for a long time. From the time I stole An Jin’s sugar cake at three and became his little follower, to rejecting a suitor at fifteen, to the noisy red candle wedding at eighteen, and the bridal chamber. I thought we were the most ordinary, most delightful childhood sweethearts, simply accompanying each other for life. He was my husband, the man who would always be by my side, the father of my children.
We were supposed to have two children, one like me and one like him.
How did such a good marriage invite disaster? I knew there were countless unsolved mysteries, but at this moment, I didn’t want to think about anything.
Yuanxiao lay at my feet, occasionally looking up at me. An Jin stood behind me, waiting quietly.
“Brother Jin,” I turned and beckoned to him. “I understand. Not having children isn’t a big deal. We’ll just find more wives for Yuanxiao to have dozens of puppies running around the house, more lively than children.”
Yuanxiao, hearing his name, raised his head in shock, his bottom firmly pressed to the ground, probably guessing I was plotting something.
An Jin laughed. “That’s settled then.”
He walked to me, crouched down, and rubbed my frozen face.
