Chapter 23: Chang'an Tong Que Ming (Melody of Golden Age)

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Chang'an Tong Que Ming (Melody of Golden Age)

 Chapter 23: 

The New House

“Hmm,” Zhu Yan frowned as she rubbed her slender fingers together “There’s something off about Madam Tang.”

“Madam Tang became a widow at a young age, and she’s now around thirty. She is dignified and virtuous, with appropriate manners, and is even a close friend of Princess Ying. Wouldn't Princess Ying notice anything unusual?”

Shen Du rubbed his forehead. “Even if she does notice something, she probably doesn’t see it as a problem.”

“After all, who at thirty would carry an air of death around them?”

“Moreover, the Bai Naoxiang she uses is quite strong and has added musk and pine scents. This type of fragrance is typically used in temples, while ordinary women use more delicate, elegant scents like those from pear wood sachets. You wouldn’t use such a heavy-smelling sachet.”

Shen Du had noticed this too, but he replied, “Madam Tang has been devoted to Buddhist practices since her widowhood, so her preference for this incense isn’t necessarily inappropriate.”

Seeing Lady Tang’s eyes, which seemed to carry an endless darkness when she looked at others, Zhu Yan shuddered and stood up:

“I’m not eating anymore. Let’s go home.”

Jing Lin, with lamb mince at the corner of his mouth, looked puzzled. “Aren’t we going to Xishi Yong’an Lane?”

Zhu Yan’s frustration, accumulated throughout the day, suddenly erupted. “No.”

It was as if a storm had been abruptly stopped by a high wall. Zhu Yan turned and walked away, not heading towards the Shen residence but towards her own home.

Even if she was like an ant with a grudge, she still had to be cautious; better to express her frustration at home.

However, Zhu Yan eventually did turn to head towards the Shen residence. Before she could walk ten steps, Shen Du intercepted her, lifting her onto his horse. They sped back to the Shen residence, and by the time Zhu Yan realized what was happening, she was already inside the new house.

The new house was beautifully arranged, with red decorations everywhere. The windows were adorned with "double happiness" characters, and the wedding table had candles that were already half-burned. The bed was neatly covered with a dragon and phoenix quilt, sprinkled with jujubes for good fortune.

The setting was like a scene from a poem:

“Golden hairpins in cloud-like hair, and a warm hibiscus curtain to enjoy the spring night.”

If only the groom’s expression were a bit more pleasant.

Shen Du’s sharp brows furrowed as he moved the quilt, along with the dried fruits like jujubes, peanuts, lotus seeds, and longans, to a nearby soft couch. He removed his cloak, outer garments, and belt. A maid brought hot water to assist Shen Du with his bath, and Zhu Yan couldn’t help but smile at her own maid, whose head was almost touching the floor from exhaustion.

It was well past midnight, and the maids were inevitably sleepy but dared not rest. Zhu Yan said:

“You don’t need to attend to me here. You can go.”

The maid was overjoyed, but seeing Shen Du present, she dared not leave. Zhu Yan then said:

“Then you can go attend to Master Shen instead. I’ll manage here on my own.”

The maid glanced at the cold-faced Shen Du and hesitated to move.

Compared to the stern Shen Du, she preferred to stay with the newlywed Madam Shen.

Shen Du, while wiping his face with a fresh towel, showed no reaction to Zhu Yan’s words.

Zhu Yan paid him no mind. She completed her own washing and emerged from behind the screen, removing her outer garment. By then, the maids had already left. Shen Du was reaching for the curtain of the bed. Zhu Yan calmly approached the soft couch, rearranged the quilt, and tidied the dried fruits. She spread half of the quilt under her and draped the other half over herself, achieving a perfect setup.

The moment she touched the soft and cozy quilt, exhaustion overwhelmed her. Zhu Yan yawned repeatedly, her eyes growing heavy. Before she closed them, she glanced at the wedding table with its pair of goblets and the red ceramic wine bottle inscribed with "A Hundred Years of Harmony."

Hmm, without a proper wedding ceremony and the drinking of the wedding wine, it doesn’t count as being truly married.

Then she thought, Shen Du hadn't driven her away, probably because of Zhang Xingwei. He might be worried that if she died too soon, it could cause trouble for him. Is that a stroke of luck or misfortune?

In fact, her father had aligned with Zhang Xingwei’s faction not because of personal preference, but because the Black King of Hell’s schemes had killed many innocent people over the years, which the Empress Dowager had implicitly allowed, but also because the Empress Dowager was a woman.

Zhu Yan decided not to think about anything more. She covered herself with the quilt and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

..............

The sunlight in May had lost the warmth and gentleness of spring, carrying with it a hint of summer's heat. It streamed through the gaps in the window panes and cast a patch of light and shadow on the soft couch where Zhu Yan lay.

The bright sunlight woke Zhu Yan, who squinted and stared at the wedding table for a long time before fully regaining her senses.

She was no longer at her own home; she was now Shen Du’s newly married wife, with only three months to live.

Sigh, staying alive is so difficult.

Muttering to herself, Zhu Yan sat up and, while reaching for the clothes on the screen, was startled by the sight of a tall, slim figure. Her hand jerked, and she clumsily tossed the clothes aside:

“Good morning, Master Shen.”

She picked up the clothes, which were the same dusty and unpleasant-smelling blue official robes. Zhu Yan hesitated about whether to wear them.

Shen Du turned around, and then:

“…”

Zhu Yan looked at him with bright, doe-like eyes: “Where is my… dowry?”

Shen Du, seemingly unable to tolerate any more, turned away again and said, “Don’t you know the propriety for a young lady to avoid such matters?” He had expected her to react with shyness, cover her face, and then hop behind the screen to scold him as a "scoundrel," but she didn’t.

Zhu Yan, unconcerned, turned away and slowly walked behind the screen. She picked up the dirty official robes and put them on, lazily saying, “You’re not losing anything, so why are you making a fuss?”

Shen Du: “…”

“Oh, by the way, where is my dowry? I don’t see it anywhere.”

Shen Du snorted coldly, “What, are you worried that I’m after your family’s dowry?”

“It’s not that. It’s just that I got married right after returning home from the Ministry of Justice, and I didn’t have time to organize things properly. I only packed a few changes of clothes and put them in one of the dowry trunks.”

Shen Du imagined Zhu Yan in her wedding dress investigating cases, and then in the blue official robes. It seemed she hadn’t worn any regular clothes, and he had originally thought she hadn’t had the chance to wear them. It turned out she hadn’t brought them.

He knew that Zhu Yan was a substitute bride and naturally hadn’t had time to organize her belongings.

The room, now devoid of Shen Du’s presence, would usually have made Zhu Yan leap for joy. However, at this moment, she felt a pang of melancholy.

The White King of Hell naturally didn’t care about whether she had clothes to change into, but Zhu Yan did. Not only was it impractical to wash and change the official robes daily, but she also had concerns about her undergarments. Since she got married, she had either been at a crime scene or on her way to one, and she had no idea that the Shen family’s steward, due to Shen Du’s attitude, hadn’t brought her dowry into the room but had sent it straight to the storeroom.

Once this newlywed Madam Shen passed away, all those belongings would be confiscated anyway—an unnecessary step.

Today, they were heading to the Li family’s bank in Xishi Yong’an Lane. Thanks to the delicious breakfast at the Shen residence, Zhu Yan’s bad mood in the morning improved considerably, and she even noticed something different about Jing Lin:

“Jing Lin, you don’t look well.”

Jing Lin, who was leading the horse, replied with a silent expression: “…” Try swapping places with me, give up your own mount, and lead someone else on your own horse—see if your mood improves.

At this moment, the street was sparsely populated, with only a few figures in sight. The orange sunrise was trying hard to break through the thin gray mist and crawl up to the horizon, casting beams of white light onto the blue-bricked ground.

It was just past the hour of Mao (5-7 a.m.), and Zhu Yan yawned as she pretended to glance casually at Shen Du. She noticed the dark circles under his eyes, clearly showing that he hadn’t rested well the previous night either.

Just as Zhu Yan was about to look away, her gaze accidentally collided with Shen Du’s...

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