DBB – Chapter 45: The Proposal
For a moment, Jinchao didn’t know what to say. After some thought, she offered him a proper bow and said, “Thank you, Cousin. If you help me this time, I promise—should you ever need anything I can offer, I will help you in return.”
That favor… could very well one day spare the Marquis of Changxing’s life.
But Ye Xian replied coolly, “Don’t thank me just yet. I haven’t agreed to help you.”
Jinchao stared at him, momentarily speechless with frustration. This Marquis’s heir! If he wasn’t planning to help, then what was with all that dramatic storytelling?
She took a deep breath. “Does Cousin have a condition, then…?”
Ye Xian shook his head, his brow furrowing slightly, as if caught in some private hesitation. “I’ll come find you in three days.”
The mood for sightseeing was utterly gone. Even as Gu Lan and Gu Lian whispered and giggled all the way back, Jinchao paid them no mind.
Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
In the capital’s Yuliu Hutong, nestled beside Fuxue Hutong, where the Shuntian Prefectural Academy resided, stood the estate of the Marquis of Changxing. This was a neighborhood reserved for nobility, and among them, the Marquis’s residence was the crown jewel. It took up most of the lane, designed like a poetic garden from Jiangnan, brimming with elegance and charm.
The Marquis himself was a rough and unsophisticated man, hardly one for poetry or refinement. But his wife, Gao Shi, daughter of Grand Tutor Gao, was quite the opposite. A woman of fine upbringing and scholarly accomplishment, she excelled in poetry, prose, and household affairs. Under her management, the residence was orderly and serene.
Their marriage had always been one of harmony and mutual respect. Even though Gao Shi had borne no son for ten years after entering the household, the Marquis had never taken a concubine.
Ye Xian was born when she was thirty-four.
At this moment, he sat in quiet contemplation in his study, reclining in a grand armchair lined with fox fur, a cup of steaming tea in hand. Outside, light rain drifted through the misted eaves. In the celadon fish tank, a soft clang echoed—the old turtle had flipped over again.
“Young Master, the Old Marquis wishes to see you,” reported Zhishu, his page, standing respectfully at the door.
Ye Xian raised an eyebrow and set his tea down on the high table beside him. “…He’s finally willing to see me.”
He rose and stepped into the covered corridor. Zhishu jumped in alarm and rushed after him with an umbrella. “Young Master, you mustn’t walk in the rain!”
The Old Marquis—Ye Xian’s grandfather—was now nearly eighty years old. A seasoned general, he had spent his life on the battlefield, though unlike his son, he was also a scholar, versed in classics and calligraphy. His seal-script calligraphy remained powerful and well-regarded.
He was practicing calligraphy when the maid announced Ye Xian. Calmly setting his brush on the brush rest, he said, “Let him in.”
Ye Xian stepped into the study. The two—grandfather and grandson—stood silently across from each other for a long while. The Old Marquis observed Ye Xian’s steady composure and thought to himself, He may be young, but he’s far sharper than his father. Trying to outlast me in silence? Hmph. That temperament—just like his maternal grandfather’s.
But the Old Marquis had no patience for games.
“…If you bring Xiao Qishan down from the mountains, can you guarantee his identity won’t be exposed?”
Ye Xian considered the question. “His Majesty’s illness lingers. The Empress is anxious, and the palace and Embroidered Guards are in constant motion. I doubt anyone will take notice. Besides, Master Xiao has lived in seclusion for many years—few now recognize him. You can rest assured. He is, after all, my mentor. I would never let him take a risk lightly.”
No firm promise—but no refusal either.
The Old Marquis smiled. “Back when Prince Cheng’s faction plotted rebellion, he was the most respected of their advisors. He should have been executed on the spot. But I admired his resolve—he refused to flee when the city fell. Had he served His Majesty, he could have brought great benefit to the realm. But that temperament of his—too proud, too stubborn. He’d rather vanish into the wilderness than bow his head to the Emperor…”
“Since he’s your teacher, then his life and safety are your responsibility. Go now. Sooner or later, the Marquisate will be yours to govern. Learn to judge things for yourself.”
With a wave of his hand, the Old Marquis dismissed him.
Ye Xian called for a servant to ready the carriage and departed for Shian District.
When word reached Gu Deshao that the Marquis’s heir had come alone to see Jinchao, even he was surprised. He quickly ordered wine and refreshments prepared and sent Shuiying to fetch Jinchao.
She hurried over, breath slightly uneven. Ye Xian stood by the railing, feeding the fish. The water glimmered with ripples, bright koi swimming beneath the surface. His black sash and jade pendant swayed in the breeze, his profile sharp and elegant as jade.
Watching him from a distance, Jinchao couldn’t help but admire his poise. Say what one might—when it came to appearance and bearing, Ye Xian was undeniably a noble gentleman.
Without turning around, he said languidly, “You remember—you owe me a favor.”
A spark of joy flared in Jinchao’s heart. He agreed to invite Master Xiao to treat Mother’s illness!
She approached with a smile. “Of course I remember. Might Cousin tell me when Master Xiao will arrive, so we can make preparations?”
Ye Xian turned to her. Jinchao’s eyes sparkled. Though she smiled often, there was usually a trace of shadow in it—yet now, her expression was clear, radiant, almost dazzling.
He couldn’t help but smile in return. “I’m not sure. Probably in a little over a month. Master Xiao values peace and quiet. He has no other requests.”
He had come swiftly, and left just as quickly. Before leaving, he looked at her again and reminded her, “Don’t forget—you owe me.”
Jinchao’s steps were light as she made her way back to Qingtong Courtyard. Qingpu was just as thrilled. “So there’s a real chance now that Madam’s illness can be cured… Should we tell her the good news?”
Jinchao thought for a moment, then smiled. “If something delays Master Xiao and he doesn’t arrive in time, it’ll only make her worry. Better to wait until he’s here. It’s not so urgent.”
Qingpu nodded. “Second Miss’s coming-of-age ceremony is on the thirteenth of the Fourth Month. The household will be quite busy. If Madam also had to worry about Master Xiao, it might be too much…”
As they chatted, they saw two young attendants carrying things out of Juyliu Pavilion. A closer look revealed scrolls, inkstones, and tea leaves among the items. A steward walked behind them, urging them to move faster.
Jinchao gave Qingpu a glance, and she immediately stepped forward to stop the steward. “Steward Li, where are these things going? Are they being cleared out of Juyliu Pavilion?”
Steward Li noticed the eldest miss nearby and quickly replied with deference, “These are gifts from Minister Mu, originally given to the Master. He’s instructed us to dispose of them outside the estate.”
Qingpu was puzzled. “Didn’t Minister Mu, Assistant Director of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, always maintain good relations with the Master?”
Steward Li lowered his voice. “You may not have heard—today, Minister Mu brought Lord Jiang, the Rector of the Imperial Academy, to propose a marriage. He wants his concubine-born eldest son to marry Second Miss. But that son is dull and round-faced—no one in the capital wants to give their daughter to him. The Master was displeased, dismissed Lord Jiang politely, and later lashed out in his study. He ordered all of Minister Mu’s gifts thrown out…”
“If not for Lord Jiang’s respected reputation—and the fact that the Master was once his student—things might have turned ugly.” As he spoke, he watched Jinchao’s expression carefully.
Once he had left, Qingpu returned to Jinchao’s side, half amused. “Miss, looks like Song Yiniang and Second Miss have trouble ahead…”
Jinchao’s lips curved slightly. “Minister Mu’s rank is higher than Father’s. Father may throw a tantrum, but he can’t openly reject the proposal. If Gu Lan doesn’t want to marry that son, she’ll have to find her own way out of it.”
Minister Mu’s concubine-born eldest son was not only dull and plump—he was rumored to be half-mad.
Last year, he went on an outing with the second son of Magistrate Liu. The boy joked that horse urine tasted good—and he actually tried it, then smacked his lips and declared it delicious. Magistrate Liu scolded his son thoroughly afterward, but the story became a joke at the Mu boy’s expense.
Knowing that her father’s close friend had tried to arrange that kind of match, it was no wonder her father was furious.
After all, Gu Lan was a concubine’s daughter. People would naturally think less of her.
Still… for all his simple and foolish appearance, Minister Mu’s son was, in truth, quite clever. Jinchao remembered clearly—he would eventually inherit the entire Mu estate. In the end, he married the fourth daughter of the Earl of Anyang, cherished her deeply, and never took even a single concubine.
The news soon reached Gu Lan.
Her face turned pale. Clutching Ziling’s sleeve, she asked, “Did Father agree to the match?”
Ziling spoke with nervous caution. “This servant doesn’t think so… After that, the Master flew into a rage and ordered all of Minister Mu’s gifts thrown out.”
Only then did Gu Lan exhale in relief. She immediately sent Mulan to fetch Song Yiniang, while she sat by the lattice window, staring blankly at the sunlit courtyard. She would never marry a fool.
If she were to marry, it ought to be—to someone like Ye Xian, a man as striking as an exiled immortal, not some bumbling idiot. And it ought to be as a principal wife, not as some concubine-born daughter. She had endured enough of the indignities that came with being born of a concubine.
From childhood, her older cousins had never cared to play with her, looking down on her for her birth. And as she grew older, she had once admired Gu Jinchao. But after Jinchao returned to the Gu family, all the affection and attention shifted toward her. She received more silver, more jewelry—even her maids outnumbered Gu Lan’s.
Gradually, she found herself resenting Jinchao more and more. That proud, domineering manner of hers—how contemptible! Yet no one else seemed to agree. No matter how well-behaved or proper Gu Lan was, people noticed Jinchao first. And she? She was nothing.
Must she be humiliated even in marriage now?
Seeing her mistress lost in thought, Ziling couldn’t help but speak up. “Miss, this servant thinks… the match with the Mu family’s eldest son isn’t entirely without merit. His mother, the principal wife, passed away long ago, and there’s no powerful maternal family behind him. Though he’s simple, he’s honest—perhaps in time… And you would be the official wife. Minister Mu is an Assistant Director of the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, a fourth-rank official. He could easily secure a good position for his son in the future…”
Gu Lan’s gaze turned icy. “Shut your mouth. What do you know? Get out!”
Ziling panicked, bowed quickly, and retreated without another word.
Just then, Song Yiniang lifted the curtain and stepped in, only to have Gu Lan rush into her arms, already in tears. Her voice trembled. “Mother… do you think Father will agree to this marriage?”
Song Yiniang’s face was grim as she held her daughter, guiding her back to sit on the kang bed.
“Your father refused quite bluntly this time,” she said slowly. “But the proposal came through Lord Jiang. Though he’s respected, he’s never been good at matchmaking. If Minister Mu sends someone else—someone more persuasive—your father might waver. After all, Minister Mu works under the Third Master of the Chen family. He has a promising future in court. Your father won’t want to risk falling out with him entirely…”
Gu Lan looked at her mother in confusion. “Then what do we do…? I don’t want to marry that fool!”
Song Yiniang gently stroked her back. “Mother knows. But for now, we must find a way to make Minister Mu think twice before raising the proposal again.”
Gu Lan sat up in worry.
Song Yiniang gave a faint smile. “Now, think—if you were a legitimate daughter… would Minister Mu still dare to offer that match?”
Gu Lan stared at her, stunned. Only after a long moment did she understand what her mother meant. “You mean, if… if you were promoted to principal wife? But… looking at Ji Shi’s condition, she may well live for years yet!”
Song Yiniang’s tone grew contemplative. “Then we must worsen her condition. If she dies… well, you’ll need to observe mourning. You wouldn’t be allowed to marry for a year. But after that year, I will have been promoted.”