In the late spring of the ninth year of Yuanhe, the willow catkins along Zhuque Street in Chang'an City drifted so thickly that people could scarcely keep their eyes open. My hand holding the embroidery frame suddenly trembled, and the sound of horse hooves outside the window startled the copper bells under the eaves into a crisp chime. Through the ceremonial gate, that familiar dark brocade robe swept past the shadow wall, and a sharp pain pierced my heart—it was Lù Zhāorán, returning home with his newly wedded bride, the daughter of the Pinglu military commissioner.
The Lantern Festival of three years ago remained as vivid as if it were yesterday. He had taken my hand and led me through the lantern market on Zhuque Street, the glow of the Liuli lamps making his eyes and brows tender. "A-Heng, when I return from my official posting abroad, I will ask your father for your hand in marriage." At that time, he had just passed the imperial examinations, my handkerchief embroidered with mandarin ducks was still hidden in my sleeve, and my heart was full of expectations for the future.
Yet fate was ruthlessly cruel. Half a month later, the Lu residence received a secret imperial decree commanding him to immediately marry the daughter of a regional military governor to secure the borders. I waited outside the side gate of the Lu residence until the third watch, only to receive half a jade pendant handed over by his personal servant, still scented with the agarwood from his sleeves…
Chapter 242