Snow in Chang'an City fell unusually early. Leaning behind the gilded screen, I looked at myself in the bronze mirror, adorned in the full ceremonial robes of a princess. A string of coral beads hung before my brow, making the white velvet flower beside my temple look all the more pure and simple—that was the white plum blossom A-Yan had searched for in the snow last year. He had dried it and pinned it in my hair, saying it would set off my quiet, wintry beauty.
"My lady, it is time to board the bridal sedan chair," said my maid Cuiqiao, her voice choked with tears. I stroked the mandarin ducks embroidered in gold thread on my wedding gown, suddenly recalling a spring night three years ago when A-Yan and I first met by the Qujiang Pond. Back then, he was merely a poor scholar, his white robes faintly scented with ink, yet he dared to tuck a half-opened peach blossom into my hair right where tourists thronged.
"A'ning is more beautiful than the flowers," he had said with a smile, his eyes reflecting the blazing sunset clouds across the sky. I blushed and turned to leave, but he reached out and caught the hem of my skirt. "Do not be afraid. Once I pass the imperial examination and place on the honor roll, I will surely come with an eight-bearer sedan chair to take you as my bride."
Chapter 239