Zhao Di’er forgot to sheathe her sword, standing frozen in place.
Lin Shuying was the first to react. She set down the seedling tray, brushed off her clothes, and said: “A Li, prepare the incense table. A-Gua, open the main gate.”
The incense table was set up quickly. The eunuch delivering the decree was an old acquaintance—Eunuch Li. Smiling broadly, he unfurled the bright yellow scroll and read aloud in a high-pitched voice:
“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor decrees: The Jiahe Country Lady Lin Shuying, of refined character and virtuous conduct, has distinguished herself in agriculture and rendered meritorious service in the Jiangnan relief efforts. The Seventh Prince Xiao Shengrui, intelligent and upright in nature, is of similar age and a worthy match for her. Their union is truly heaven-made. Today, I bestow this marriage upon them, with an auspicious date to be chosen for their wedding. Respect this decree—”
The courtyard was silent for a moment, then erupted.
Lin Shuying knelt on the ground, took the decree with both hands, looked down at the bright yellow silk, and let out a soft breath.
Eunuch Li produced another decree: “The Jiahe Country Lady is promoted to the rank of Jiahe County Lady, second grade, with a stipend of three hundred households, and is permitted to continue overseeing agricultural affairs and establish the ‘Agriculture and Sericulture Institute.’ Respect this decree—”
News of the betrothal spread faster than the wind.
That very afternoon, Lin Shuying’s parents and eldest brother Lin Moqian arrived.
Gu Wanyin held her daughter’s hands, tears streaming down her face.
Lin Huaizhou stood to the side—he didn’t speak, but his eyes were red too.
Lin Moqian directly transferred the “Little Lin’s Fine Delicacies” brand to Lin Shuying’s name and gave her shares in several shops: “These are your private assets. Manage them yourself after your marriage. Though the Seventh Prince is a good man, a woman with money has a stronger backbone.”
Fifth Prince Xiao Shenglan came charging in, wailing and clinging to Lin Shuying’s leg: “Auntie! How can you get married?! And to Seventh Brother! What am I supposed to call you then?”
Lin Shuying crouched down and wiped his tears: “No matter what you call me, I’m still your aunt.”
Consort Lin Yueyao arrived soon after, patting her hand: “The Seventh Prince is reliable. Your sister is happy for you.”
That evening, Yang Wanli sent a wedding gift—a rare, one-of-a-kind agricultural text. The gift note had only one line: “A small token of my regard—may the County Lady and the Seventh Prince grow old together.”
Lin Shuying looked at the note for a while, then told A Li to put the book away in the study.
— —
The wedding preparations took longer than expected.
The Bureau of Astronomy calculated that the most auspicious date would be in the third month of the following year, after Xiao Shengrui turned sixteen.
Lin Shuying calculated—that was still over half a year away.
“That’s enough time,” she said to A Li.
A Li didn’t understand: “Enough for what?”
Lin Shuying didn’t explain. She spread out paper and began drafting her wedding plan.
Item one: No unnecessary formalities—cut down on the three kneelings and nine prostrations wherever possible.
Item two: The wedding banquet will be self-service buffet style.
Item three: Instead of traditional wedding sweets, use fruit gift boxes.
When she reached the fourth item, she paused, thought for a moment, and added another: The Jiahe Garden must include greenhouses, test fields, and a small processing workshop. In the future, this place would be not just a home, but the headquarters of the Agriculture and Sericulture Institute.
When Xiao Shengrui came and saw the plan, he laughed.
“Are you planning a wedding or an agricultural expo?”
“Both.” Lin Shuying said matter-of-factly. “My wedding, my rules.”
— —
Over the following months, Lin Shuying balanced work between Little Lin Manor and Jiahe Garden.
A Li handled the daily operations of the Vegetable Basket Project. Lin Zhaoye managed the preparations for the canteen branch. Wei Fuyu and Zhao Di’er trained the servants—with so many people expected on the wedding day, security couldn’t afford any slip-ups.
Lin Jingshen was sent to oversee the construction progress at Jiahe Garden, going out early and returning late—complaining all the while, but his steps were light.
Xiao Shengrui was busy too.
The Listening Wind Pavilion still needed attention, and the Ministry of Rites consulted him almost daily about the wedding procedures. He reviewed each item one by one—omitting what could be omitted, simplifying what couldn’t.
“Can’t follow all six traditional steps,” he told Lin Shuying. “Father approved merging some of them. But the groom’s procession can’t be skipped.”
“I wasn’t asking you to skip the procession,” Lin Shuying said without looking up, snipping grape vines in the greenhouse. “I just don’t want to kneel for too long during the ceremony.”
Xiao Shengrui thought for a moment: “I’ll ask the Ministry of Rites to cut the ceremonial address in half.”
“Can you cut it to a third?”
“…I’ll try.”
…
In winter, Lin Shuying received a New Year’s gift from Xiao Shengrui—a complete set of farming tools. Not the gilded, jewel-encrusted kind, but solid, practical tools crafted precisely to her specifications.
The angle of the hoes had been adjusted so they wouldn’t strain her back. The pruning shears had been tempered with steel, twice as sharp as anything on the market.
Lin Shuying tested them and was thoroughly satisfied.
In return, she gave him a jar of wine she had brewed herself—last year’s grape harvest had been good, and she’d tried making a few jars. This was the first one she opened.
Xiao Shengrui opened it, took a sip, and said nothing.
“Not good?” Lin Shuying asked.
“Good.” Xiao Shengrui sealed the jar. “We’ll drink it on the wedding day.”
— —
In the fourth month, when the flowers were in full bloom, the auspicious day for the wedding arrived.
All of Jinling turned out to watch.
A ten-li stretch of red bridal procession stretched from the Lin residence all the way to Jiahe Garden. Leading the way was an imperial-bestowed jade ruyi, followed by ten palanquins of seeds—each sack tied with red silk ribbons and labeled: “Fine Seeds Personally Selected by the Jiahe County Lady.”
The common folk craned their necks to see, murmuring among themselves.
“Did you see that? Those are the County Lady’s own precious seeds!”
“I heard each sack is worth a hundred taels!”
“A hundred taels? You’re underestimating her! The rainbow watermelon seeds alone are worth a tael each!”
Xiao Shengrui rode a tall horse at the head of the procession, dressed in a brilliant red wedding robe, his brows and eyes unable to hide his smile.
Lin Shuying sat inside the bridal sedan chair, listening to the clamor outside, her fingers lightly tapping on her knees.
Not nervous.
Just a wedding.
The sedan chair arrived at the entrance of Jiahe Garden. The matchmaker lifted the curtain and handed over the red silk ribbon.
Lin Shuying grasped one end; the other was in Xiao Shengrui’s hand.
They walked side by side into the wedding hall.
The Emperor and Empress sat at the head, with Consort Lin seated to the side. The Fifth Prince was secretly wiping away tears below.
“First bow to Heaven and Earth—”
“Second bow to the high hall—”
“Third bow to each other—”
The ceremony was complete.
Lin Shuying was led to the bridal chamber, while Xiao Shengrui remained outside to toast the guests.
The wedding banquet was a buffet-style affair, with twenty long tables laden with fruits and dishes. Guests carried plates and served themselves, finding the novelty delightful.
The Emperor tried a piece of watermelon jelly and nodded: “Interesting.”
The Empress glanced at the empty seat across from her—the spot where the newlyweds would normally have offered toasts—and a slight smile lifted the corner of her mouth.
— —
In the bridal chamber, Lin Shuying sat on the edge of the bed and lifted her veil herself.
A Li was startled: “Miss! His Highness hasn’t arrived yet!”
“It’s stifling,” Lin Shuying set the veil aside and rolled her neck. “Let him finish his toasts first.”
By the time the dragon-and-phoenix candles on the table had burned halfway down, the door swung open.
Xiao Shengrui entered, carrying a faint trace of wine on his clothes. Seeing that Lin Shuying had already removed her veil, he paused for a moment, then smiled.
“Couldn’t wait?”
“It was too stuffy.” Lin Shuying pointed at the wine flagon on the table. “A drink?”
Xiao Shengrui walked over and sat down beside her, pouring two cups of wine. He handed one to her, keeping the other for himself.
It was the wine she had given him the year before.
“How is it?” Lin Shuying asked.
“Good.” Xiao Shengrui looked at her, his eyes filled with laughter. “But not as good as you.”
Lin Shuying paused, then set down her cup.
“Xiao Shengrui.”
“Yes?”
“Where did you learn to talk like that?”
Xiao Shengrui thought carefully: “The Listening Wind Pavilion has an intelligence officer who specializes in collecting storybooks. I had him pick out a few.”
Lin Shuying couldn’t help but laugh.
The two sat side by side on the edge of the bed, the dragon-and-phoenix candles crackling on the table.
Outside the window, the moon was full.
“Shuying,” Xiao Shengrui said softly, “from now on, Jiahe Garden is yours.”
“And yours too,” Lin Shuying corrected.
Xiao Shengrui turned his head and looked at her.
“Yes,” he said, “it’s ours.”
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