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.
