Chapter Eighteen: The Marriage Contract
Year Six of King Zheng of Qin, Ninth Month, Twenty-third Day
As Li Yu walked down the bustling avenue, he overheard pedestrians discussing the celestial phenomenon from the night before, and was finally certain—what Little Tao had told him was no tale. At the hour of the Dog last night, the heavens again erupted with strange signs: the pitch-black night suddenly brightened as if it were day, the entire sky shimmering with blue-violet hues, and clouds at the horizon glowing with multicolored auspicious lights.
Why was it that every time these wonders appeared, he never witnessed them himself? Li Yu couldn’t help but ponder.
The first phenomenon had occurred at Ganquan Palace, when he was with the Empress Dowager. The second, last night at that very hour, he had been unconscious.
No, this couldn’t simply be coincidence, could it?
Moreover, his morning practice of Taiji had been noticeably smoother than usual, his movements flowing with ease, and a faint mist seemed to envelop his body—a most mysterious sensation.
He had assumed it was the fruit of his persistent training, but upon reflection, something else seemed at play.
Lost in his musings, Li Yu made his way toward Xianyang Palace. Some matters, after all, were best clarified. First, he would show his face before Ying Zheng—he hadn’t expected Zhao Gao to be there as well, and beside him stood a youth, whose features, though indistinct, revealed him to be the young Zhang Han.
All the players were assembled.
Watching Ying Zheng, once more engrossed in his writing, Li Yu felt that as an employee, he was truly overburdened.
After half a stick of incense’s time, Ying Zheng finally rubbed his shoulders, straightened up, and, seeing Li Yu approach, laughed, “Brother, you’re here quite early today.”
Li Yu bowed respectfully, “Brother, you toil day and night. You must find balance between work and rest. I advise you, every seven days, grant yourself a holiday. It would be a relief to your body and mind.”
Ying Zheng replied, “I understand your concern, but so long as the world remains unsettled, my heart cannot afford to relax. When all is unified, we can speak of resting one day in seven.”
Li Yu thought, When that day comes, you may be even busier: harmonizing script, standardizing vehicles, reviving a myriad of things—there’ll be no end of matters. But he did not press further; every man pursues his own goals.
Ying Zheng, sensing Li Yu’s hesitation, asked curiously, “Brother, is something weighing on your mind?”
Li Yu offered a sheepish smile, “Yesterday, Lord Changping invited me to dine, and I fell for a beauty’s charms. Yet I truly like her, and hope Brother will draft a decree to make her my lady.”
Ying Zheng laughed heartily, “So, even you have a weakness!”
Li Yu touched his nose, “This woman was sent by Lord Changping with intent; I merely played along.”
Ying Zheng didn’t probe further, picked up his brush and wrote, affixing his grand seal. Li Yu collected the marriage document, his heart brimming with joy.
Ying Zheng, seeing the object in Li Yu’s hand, smiled, “Another gift for Mother?”
Li Yu nodded, “Mother loves music; it is only fitting that I honor her thus.”
Li Yu then broached the subject of Han, “Brother, I believe the matter of Han can be brought onto the agenda.”
Ying Zheng replied, “How confident are you?”
Li Yu smiled, “Eight or nine out of ten. Man proposes, Heaven disposes—nothing is ever certain.”
“The academy’s work cannot be accomplished in a day. The most pressing matter now is the national commerce. Once that is settled, I will begin to plan for Han.”
Ying Zheng said, “Whatever you need, speak plainly. I will support you wholeheartedly.”
Li Yu was moved by Ying Zheng’s trust.
Taking his leave, Li Yu made his way to Ganquan Palace.
His feelings for his first woman remained distinct.
Clutching the object from the Directorate of Works, which he had brought back yesterday and spent the night exploring, Li Yu tried to recapture old sensations.
A caged golden canary, though well-fed and clothed, pays for it with the loss of freedom.
This time, Zhao Ji was uncharacteristically basking in sunlight, reading.
Upon seeing Li Yu enter, her brows instantly unfurled, and she greeted him with joy.
Noticing the nearly three-foot long bamboo segment Li Yu carried, Zhao Ji asked curiously, “What is this?”
A thought struck her, “Is Yu’er planning to enforce household discipline?” As she spoke, she playfully covered her own backside, utterly charming.
Li Yu’s gaze grew serious, making Zhao Ji’s heart flutter.
Li Yu stepped forward, embraced her gently, whispering, “My mother is like a celestial maiden. How could I bear to mistreat you?”
Zhao Ji shot him a glance, “And you haven’t mistreated me enough? You could have lost your head ten times over.”
Li Yu inhaled her faint rose-scented hair, feigning petulance, “Mother couldn’t bear it.”
Zhao Ji pinched his side.
Li Yu grimaced in pain and quickly begged for mercy, “Mother, your child has erred!”
With that, he turned and fled, Zhao Ji chasing after.
The two romped in the courtyard, like children not yet grown.
Scarlet ribbons drifted from the flower beds as melodious cries rang out, the flowers trembling, and two shadowy figures intertwined amid the blossoms—striving to merge, never to part.
When the petals finally ceased their fall, Zhao Ji lay in Li Yu’s arms, savoring the lingering warmth.
“Where did you learn those moves?”
Li Yu smiled guiltily, “To serve Mother well, I studied them in books.”
Zhao Ji’s gaze grew dreamy, “Do not lie to me—or else…”
She left the threat unfinished, for she herself knew not how to intimidate Li Yu. She understood—there could never be a true ending for them. Zhao Ji had no wish to bind Li Yu; she only wanted a place in his heart, and for him to linger by her side.
“When you find a woman you love someday, you must tell me. I shall arrange the marriage for you.”
Li Yu gently caressed her face, “No matter what the future brings, you will always be the most special.”
Zhao Ji was immediately filled with pride, “Of course. Your first blood was mine.”
“You little enchantress!”
With that, he mounted her like a horse.
…
Were it not for the protests of his stomach, Li Yu felt he might have perished in her intoxicating embrace.
After they dressed and indulged themselves, Li Yu pointed to the bamboo flute on the table, “This is a musical instrument I prepared for Mother, called a xiao. Later, I shall play it for you.”
Zhao Ji’s interest was piqued, “You play the flute, I dance along. It’s been so long since I danced—I’m a bit rusty.”
Li Yu replied earnestly, “Mother is the greatest beauty in the world; no one can rival you. Your dance is peerless.”
“So young, and so skilled at flattery. How did you remain a virgin until today?” Zhao Ji teased.
Li Yu touched his nose, “I was a scholar, my duty to the world. But since meeting Mother, I only wish to be a man—your man, forever.”
“You little rogue, you’ll be the death of me.” With that, she embraced Li Yu and showered him with kisses, then pushed his hands away.
Zhao Ji spun gracefully, her wide red dress swirling, sleeves fluttering, her dance revealing her proud figure.
Li Yu took up the bamboo flute and played—a melody from his homeland, elegant notes flowing forth. Zhao Ji’s dance soared in response.
Zhao women were famed for their beauty, and Zhao Ji’s dancing was exceptional. In the State of Zhao, before marrying Ying Yiren, she danced often. But after his departure, she ceased.
Even after returning to Qin, she never danced again.
Partly unwilling, partly unbefitting her status.
But today, in high spirits, she could not help but perform her Zhao dance before Li Yu.
Her sleeves floated, the red robe spun, her beauty blossomed like a flower, a fire phoenix in motion.
Yet only Li Yu could witness her splendor.
“Yu’er, how was it?”
After her performance, Zhao Ji wiped her brow and approached Li Yu expectantly.
“Mother, are you a celestial maiden descended to earth?” Li Yu grasped her delicate hand, raised his head, and asked sincerely.
“You only know how to please your mother.”
…
Bidding Zhao Ji farewell, Li Yu found Zhao Gao waiting outside the courtyard gate. He approached, “Brother Zhao, you’ve been busy lately.”
Zhao Gao saluted formally, “Serving the King’s interests.” A most official reply.
Li Yu patted Zhao Gao’s shoulder, “Brother Zhao, any news about the Jiao Ni?”
Zhao Gao had thought Li Yu had forgotten the matter, but here he was, clearly attentive. Zhao Gao’s eyes narrowed, “She’s on her way back. Originally, the one named Yan was meant to go to the Lesser Sage Manor, but I intercepted him.”
Upon hearing this, Li Yu’s heart sank.
Still too late. In fact, upon hearing of Wei Wuji’s death days ago, Li Yu had suspected the outcome, though he still harbored faint hopes.
Perhaps his arrival might alter history—maybe…
Li Yu did not dwell further.
“Brother Zhao, how is control over the Spider’s Web lately?” Li Yu asked curiously.
“Still being consolidated. Much cannot be accomplished in a day. Especially with the Spider’s Web, a complex organization, all contacts are single-threaded—it will take time to unravel. Besides, the realm of demons still lies in the hands of Prime Minister Lü.”
Li Yu was particularly interested in the demons, less so in Heaven and Earth. The importance of intelligence was well understood in modern times.
Li Yu leaned on Zhao Gao’s shoulder, “Brother Zhao, lend me some people! I need capable hands, ideally like the Six Sword Slaves.”
Zhao Gao twisted his mouth—Six Sword Slaves, what an ambition. Did Li Yu know how much effort Zhao Gao had spent to acquire them?
Li Yu added, “Preferably women.”
Zhao Gao replied, “Jiao Ni will arrive soon.”
Li Yu said, “...I don’t want Jiao Ni to remain a killer. Do you have other candidates?”
“No Heaven-ranked ones. Would you take Death-ranked?”
“That’ll do, give me ten to start!” Li Yu nodded.
“...” Zhao Gao replied, “Even Death-ranked are not easy to find, especially all women.”
Li Yu patted his shoulder, “Brother Zhao, I trust you.”
He turned and left, leaving chaos in the wind.
…
Arriving at Meng Ao’s residence, Li Yu was slightly excited—today he would ride a true horse.
Meng Ao was not at home; his grandson Meng Tian received him. After a few pleasantries, they headed to the stables.
As clothes make the man, so does the saddle make the horse. Li Yu was thrilled to see his own black steed, freshly groomed, gleaming, its eyes bright and spirited, sizing up its new master.
Li Yu swung himself onto the horse, tugged the reins, and tilted back at forty-five degrees. The horse, quiet as a maiden just moments before, suddenly reared, hooves flailing, mane flying, its majestic posture like a homing pigeon crossing seas and mountains, neighing loudly—the sound echoing across the sky.
Li Yu quickly clung to the horse’s neck, lest he be thrown off, appearing quite awkward.
Meng Tian grabbed the reins and helped calm the horse.
Li Yu dismounted, feeling a bit embarrassed.
Meng Tian said, “This horse is only three years old, never ridden before. Though trained, it’s uncomfortable with its first rider. Would you prefer another?”
Li Yu steadied himself, patted the horse’s neck, “This one will do. I won’t be cowed by a beast.”
Meng Tian nodded with admiration—soldiers truly favored those who met challenges head-on.
With Meng Tian’s guidance, Li Yu quickly adapted to riding.
With repeated instructions on the horse’s habits and care, Li Yu led his first mount away—
To the Fragrant Pavilion.
He entered and headed straight for the inner courtyard, requesting a private room.
Soon, Liu Feixu arrived with a tray of purple clay teaware.
A breeze of tulip fragrance accompanied her as she sat across from Li Yu.
“Master Grand Craftsman, you’re early today.”
Li Yu smiled, “Yesterday you called me ‘Young Master,’ today it’s ‘Grand Craftsman?’ Lady Feixu, that’s a bit hurtful.”
Liu Feixu replied, “You jest, sir. I am but a humble willow, dare not entertain improper thoughts.”
Her expression dimmed, her eyes mournful, her exquisite oval face tugging at Li Yu’s heart.
A day’s union, a hundred days’ grace—Li Yu’s values differed from most: any woman he touched, he would keep by his side, even if by force. In that, he resembled Chancellor Cao, who, for Zhang Xiu’s aunt Zou, lost a son and a beloved general, yet never abandoned her, and she bore him another son.
Li Yu said, “Does the lady not know my feelings for you?”
Liu Feixu replied, “You were merely captivated by novelty. Once the freshness fades, you’ll forget me.”
Li Yu asked, “What would it take for you to believe me?”
Liu Feixu replied, “Unless you’re willing to marry me, but could you truly do it?”
Li Yu chuckled and said nothing.
Seeing this, Liu Feixu’s gaze grew dim, “I am but a foolish dreamer. Since entering this world, I’ve learned not to hope for love.”
“So long as you visit me often, I’ll be content,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
Li Yu didn’t know Liu Feixu’s thoughts. If he believed in one-night stands, his intelligence would be lacking—especially in a place like this.
But Li Yu had an ace up his sleeve. He doubted anyone could resist it. Once moved, everything would be easier.
He reached out, gently took Liu Feixu’s hand, caressing it softly, savoring its delicate texture.
“If I were truly willing to marry you, would you call me ‘husband’?” he asked earnestly.
Liu Feixu looked at him, serious, not jesting, but thought—it was impossible, a fool’s dream. “Do not tease me, sir. The higher the hope, the greater the disappointment. Why give me hope?”
She had intended to chat casually, but Li Yu was all about emotions today—was this the joy of the powerful? Lord Changping was like this, Li Yu too. Did they think themselves immune to heartbreak, able to hold all the world’s affections in their palm? Such ruthless hearts.
Li Yu said, “Do you not believe me? If I were willing to marry you, would you accept?”
Liu Feixu steeled herself, “If you dare to marry, I dare to accept. From then on, I will be yours alone, never another.”
Li Yu had been waiting for this. He took out a black silk cloth from his bosom, inscribed with mysterious patterns. Unfolding it revealed yellow silk, bearing the words: ‘By the Mandate of Heaven, King Ying Zheng declares: Having heard of a maiden among the people, surname Liu, given name Feixu, skilled, dignified, gentle, outstanding in virtue and appearance, I am most pleased. Now that my brother is of age, he shall marry her…’
Liu Feixu stared at the marriage decree, her whole body trembling, incredulous.
Li Yu waited patiently.
After a long while, Liu Feixu recovered, wiped her tears, and said, “You’ve acted before seeking consent—when did I agree to marry you?”
Li Yu smiled, “My lady just agreed, did she not? Want to take it back? Then I’ll have to reclaim the marriage decree.”
He reached for it, but Liu Feixu instinctively protected it, snatching it and hiding it in her bosom.
“Sir, what’s given cannot be taken back. Though I am unworthy, I know to keep my word.”
Li Yu said, “Shouldn’t you call me ‘husband’ now? Let me hear it.”
Liu Feixu blushed deeply, lowered her head, and stammered, “…Hus—band…” Never in her life had she been so shy, yet in her shyness was a trace of joy—a heartfelt joy. Oh, women of old! How low their status, especially in places like brothels. If they died, they were gone—beautiful flowers without roots, drifting in the water.
This Qin King’s marriage decree gave Liu Feixu a sense of security, like a dandelion floating in the wind finally finding fertile soil.
Liu Feixu gazed at Li Yu—this sense of certainty was brought by him.
From now on, he would be her destiny.
…
Li Yu did not know what Liu Feixu thought; he simply wished to bind her quickly. In such a chaotic place, even one extra day made him uneasy.
Moreover, Li Yu wanted to create an intelligence agency, and Liu Feixu was the ideal candidate. To run such a large tavern in a place worth its weight in gold was proof of ability; even with someone backing her, they would only choose someone competent—not a fool.
At present, Li Yu had no able people at his disposal; he could only feed himself to the tiger, and the tiger was a tigress.