Chapter 3- The Night Before The Wedding 2
1340 Words
Soon enough, they swept him off toward his chambers. Once inside, chaos erupted-maids hurried about with robes and ornaments, while his siblings sat comfortably, offering more commentary than help.
"That crown looks too heavy for him," Ji Luo teased, picking up the golden headpiece. "He'll collapse before he even reaches the altar."
"Not as heavy as your tongue," Ji Ling muttered, glaring at his younger brother.
Ji Xingling chuckled. "Don't scowl, little brother. A bride won't appreciate a husband who looks like he swallowed sour medicine."
Meanwhile, He Wang leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, his lips twitching. "Shall I tell them how you flinched when Ji Na asked about beauty, Your Highness? That blush was rather telling."
"I did not blush," Ji Ling retorted firmly, though his ears betrayed him by reddening further.
The room erupted in laughter-siblings and servant alike-while Ji Ling sat stoically, enduring every comment as maids fastened his robes and fixed his hair.
For the first time that day, the mighty prince looked less like a warrior and more like a groom-to-be-reluctant, exasperated, yet surrounded by family who refused to let him face tomorrow in silence.
The siblings, eventually tired of their own mischief drifted out, Ji Luo still snickering, Ji Xingling promising to "inspect" the bride on Ji Ling's behalf, and Ji Na skipping happily with a maid trailing behind her.
Silence settled in the chamber once the door closed. Ji Ling exhaled deeply, finally free of their laughter, though his reflection in the polished bronze mirror still looked foreign to him-dressed in ceremonial robes, hair bound neatly, a faint trace of incense clinging to the air.
"You look the part, at least," He Wang's voice broke the quiet.
Ji Ling turned, giving his attendant a flat look. "Don't you start as well."
He Wang smirked, but this time his tone softened. "It's not as terrible as you think. She's the daughter of Jianghu's king. Word is she's clever... and stubborn."
Ji Ling arched a brow. "Stubborn?"
He Wang leaned casually against the pillar. "Yes. The kind who would argue with you until dawn just to prove her point. A good match for a prince who spends his days brooding with a sword, don't you think?"
Ji Ling didn't reply, his gaze falling back to the mirror. His voice lowered. "I didn't choose this."
"No prince ever does," He Wang said simply. Then, after a pause, he added, "But choice or not, you can decide how you'll meet her. With a closed heart... or with a curious one."
For the first time, Ji Ling's expression shifted-not that of acceptance, but not defiance either. He studied his reflection a moment longer before answering in a quiet voice, almost to himself.
"Curious, then."
He Wang's smirk widened. "Good. That sounds much better than sulking."
Ji Ling gave him a dry look but couldn't help the faintest huff of laughter escaping his lips.
***
The Jianghu market was alive with its usual clamor-vendors calling out their wares, children darting between stalls, the smell of roasted chestnuts mingling with fresh herbs. Zheng moved through the crowd with practiced ease, his tall frame and soldier's gait earning him respectful nods from townsfolk who recognized him as the general's son.
He hadn't meant to linger. He was only there to fetch ink and paper for his father's scribes. But just as he passed a spice stall, a group of women huddled together.
"Tomorrow! Can you imagine? Our princess... married to a prince of the Tiandou Empire!" one of them exclaimed, clutching a basket of lotus roots.
Zheng's step faltered. He barely paid attention until the name fell from another's lips.
"Princess Ling Yu'er, so young and bright. What a pity. She'll be gone from Jianghu by dawn."
Ling Yu'er.
The ink list in his hand crumpled. His heart kicked against his ribs, disbelief surging through him. He turned sharply to the women, his voice cutting through their chatter.
"What did you just say?"
Startled, the women blinked at him. One, braver than the rest, answered carefully, "The emperor's decree was read yesterday. Princess Yu'er will wed Prince Ji Ling tomorrow morning. It has been announced across the city- have you not heard?"
Tomorrow.
Zheng stood frozen as the voices around him faded into a dull roar. The bustle of the market blurred. All he could hear was her laughter in his memory- the way Yu'er had tugged him into trouble as children, how she used to chase fireflies barefoot in the palace gardens, how she would always turn to him with that mischievous grin.
And now... she was being taken away.
He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. "Yu'er..."
The ink list slipped from his fingers to the dirt road, forgotten.
---
That night, the palace was quieter than usual. Lanterns flickered faintly in the halls, casting long shadows across the stone paths. Guards patrolled steadily, though Zheng knew the rhythm of their steps-he'd visited enough times as a child to know when to slip past unnoticed.
His heart hammered as he pressed against the cool wall, waiting for the right moment before moving again. He wasn't supposed to be here. But how could he stay away, knowing that by sunrise, Yu'er would no longer belong to Jianghu... no longer belong to him?
Finally, he reached the side garden beneath the princess's chamber. The same garden where, years ago, Yu'er had once leaned out the window and tossed him a stolen peach with a wicked smile.
"Yu'er," he whispered up toward the lattice window, his voice tight with urgency.
For a moment, there was silence. Then a rustle. The window creaked open and Ling Yu'er leaned out, her hair loose around her shoulders, her expression first startled-then breaking into a wide, incredulous smile.
"Zheng? What in the world are you doing here? Do you have a death wish?" she hissed, trying not to laugh too loudly.
He didn't smile back. His eyes burned, locked on her face as though memorizing it. "I had to see you... before tomorrow."
Her grin faltered. The weight in his tone sank into her chest. "Zheng..."
"I heard the news at the market." His hands clenched at his sides. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you say anything?"
Yu'er sighed softly, resting her chin on the wooden frame. "Because what good would it do? It's the emperor's decree. Not even Father can stop it."
"You're just going to let them take you?" His voice broke, low and raw. "Marry some cold prince you don't even know? Yu'er, this isn't you."
She bit her lip, the familiar silliness gone now. For once, she looked small, fragile. "What choice do I have? If I refuse, our kingdom suffers. I can't be selfish, Zheng. Not when so much is at stake."
His throat tightened. For years, he'd stood by her side, believing he'd always be there for her. And now, he was about to lose her to a man he had never even met.
Zheng stepped closer, his voice rough but desperate. "Then at least tell me one thing... Do you want this marriage?"
Yu'er hesitated, then shook her head slowly. "No. But it doesn't matter what I want."
Her words cut him deeper than any blade.
For a long moment, they just stared at each other, the night air thick with everything unspoken.
At last, she forced a small, lopsided smile-the one he knew too well. "Don't look at me like that, Zheng. I promised myself I'd face tomorrow with a smile."
His jaw tightened. "I don't want you to smile. I want you to be free."
And before she could answer, footsteps echoed down the corridor. Yu'er gasped and pulled back.
"Go," she whispered urgently. "If they find you here-"
Zheng lingered a heartbeat longer, his eyes burning with words he couldn't say. Then he melted into the shadows, vanishing as swiftly as he had come.
Yu'er closed the window slowly, her heart pounding. Alone in the dark, she whispered into the silence:
"Zheng..."
"...I'm sorry"
- Writer
