Chapter 375 Betrothal Gifts

Chapter 375: The Betrothal Gifts

Fang Jinrong came by to chat with Meng Wan for a bit, but seeing that Meng Wan was about to get busy with serious matters again, he quickly slipped away.

After seeing Fang Jinrong off, Meng Wan held the betrothal gift list for A Xun and chuckled, "I wonder what he'll do when Tong'er gets married."

Zhifan and Zhimao sat on embroidered stools nearby, stifling laughter while deftly tying red silk ribbons around the boxes of all sizes scattered on the floor.

The main hall, bedroom, and heated study of the main courtyard were all connected. Right now, except for the innermost bedroom, every room's floor was covered with goods. When Huang Ye came in, there was no place to even step.

He found a clear spot to stand and reported to Meng Wan, "Young Master, the whole cattle, sheep, and pigs from the estate have been delivered. Also, the hundred jars of wine ordered from Tianxiang Tower—since it snowed yesterday, we held off sending them over, but they arrived early this morning. Gui Qian is leading the servants in tying red silk around them now."

Of the hundred jars of wine, sixty would be kept for the wedding banquet, and the remaining forty would be used for the betrothal ceremony tomorrow.

Meng Wan looked at the massive pile of goods on the floor, checking the list in his hand, he said to Huang Ye, "Wine, livestock, gold and silver, jewelry, fabric, ready-made clothes, dowry items, porcelain, bronze mirrors... everything's accounted for. Have someone keep a close watch tonight. Tomorrow morning, have Brother Zhaoyuan take you and Xuesheng to deliver the betrothal gifts to the Ge family."

Huang Ye had been busy since before the New Year and had lost weight, but his spirits were high. This was his first time overseeing a wedding, and knowing they'd be delivering the betrothal gifts tomorrow morning, he was positively beaming. "Rest assured, Young Master. I've prepared more than enough of everything—never skimped. Tomorrow morning, we'll head to Lord Ge's residence without a hitch."

"If I didn't trust you, I wouldn't have handed you the task." Meng Wan had always been bold in employing people—if someone caught his eye, he'd put them to work. Huang Ye, an ordinary young man, had been bought when he was just a few years old. Over the years, Meng Wan had shaped him into a remarkably shrewd and capable person.

The items in the room were all valuable. After Zhifan and Zhimao finished organizing them, they sealed each box and stacked them up in the main hall. Several other maids and young servants from the courtyard pitched in as well.

Meng Wan got up from the heated bed, still clutching the betrothal gift list. "Huang Ye, bring the keys to the storeroom and follow me. Let's go add a few more things."

The two headed off, and a young maid muttered under her breath, "Isn't thirty-two loads already enough? I'm not sure we can even fit all this. Why's the Young Master adding more?"

Zhimao's face turned cold, and he snapped, "Shut that gossiping mouth of yours. When the Young Master tells you to do something, you do it. Do you think it's your place to decide how many loads the betrothal gifts should have?"

The girl's face flushed red, and her eyes teared up. "I'm sorry, Brother Zhimao."

Zhifan took out his own handkerchief to wipe her tears. "It's a joyous occasion—you've got to hold it together. What would it look like if the Young Master saw you crying? Your Brother Zhimao just has that kind of temper. Now get back to work."

The maids, young servants, and attendants of the Song household had all come from Lingnan. They naturally revered and admired Meng Wan. The Young Master wasn't harsh on ordinary days, but rules had to be followed—anyone who was disloyal would be shown no mercy.

They were already honest and well-behaved, and after this little episode, the other maids and servants didn't dare speak, simply burying themselves in their work.

A servant was sweeping snow in the courtyard, piling it under the trees and into the drains. But the weather was bitterly cold, and no sooner was the corridor swept clean than a gust of north wind blew snow dust from the treetops back onto the path.

At home, he didn't need to bother with such formality. Meng Wan threw on one of Song Tingzhou's large cloaks—so wide and long it reached his ankles, turning him into a black oval.

Huang Ye unlocked two doors of the newly extended storeroom. "Young Master, the imperial gifts are all kept here, stored with proper reverence."

Meng Wan hitched up the hem of the cloak and stepped inside. The storeroom was spacious, filled with items of all sizes. Song Tingzhou had been honored multiple times by two consecutive emperors, and Meng Wan had also received imperial favor twice—the most recent being the New Year's banquet, which brought the most generous rewards.

"My husband now holds the rank of second-rank official. Our betrothal gifts for marrying a husband cannot exceed thirty-two loads. However, imperial gifts don't count toward that limit, so let's pick two suitable items to add for A Xun." Meng Wan naturally wanted to give A Xun as much as possible—he certainly had the means—but the rules were the rules. If he overstepped, Song Tingzhou would risk being accused of going beyond his station.

He wandered around the storeroom, though his options were actually quite limited, as most imperial gifts could not be given away or sold—that would be a grave offense. Only items without dragon motifs or imperial inscriptions could be put to other uses.

In the end, Meng Wan chose a pair of filigree-inlaid, openwork hexagonal gold vases set with gems. These vases were masterpieces among masterpieces—outside the Imperial Household Department, they could rarely be crafted elsewhere. As betrothal gifts, they were both luxurious and dignified.

"Good, these vases it is. Also, include that painting of 'Twin Lotuses and Paired Fish' I prepared before the new year."

Huang Ye carefully placed the vases back into their boxes. "Young Master, that leaves us with an odd number again. We'll need one more item to round it out."

"Add one of your master's calligraphy pieces as well." Mentioning Song Tingzhou, Meng Wan pulled the cloak tighter around himself, his tone growing a bit subdued.

It was amusing, really. Over the years, this wasn't the first time they'd been apart—it was always Song Tingzhou who was clingier. But this time, the other had been shut into the examination hall without so much as a word, and Meng Wan found himself more unsettled than ever before. At night, with no one to hold him, a chill crept down his back, and no matter how many quilts he piled on, he couldn't shake that pervasive cold.

The next morning, Meng Wan rose early, but many others had risen even earlier—some hadn't slept at all.

"Hurry, move that aside a bit—the one behind is about to bump into it!"

"Careful, the ground is slippery—don't knock the boxes!"

"Steward Huang, three jars of wine got bumped just now."

"Where's Zhimao, who's supposed to carry the gift list? We're about to set off—someone go fetch him!"

"I'm right here, I didn't go far. Lord Wu has arrived, so I went to greet him."

"Brother Gui Qian, Songshan from the second team has diarrhea and can't come out for a while—find someone to take his place!"

The usually quiet main courtyard was bustling with noise. There was the sound of servants sweeping snow—the north wind had howled all night, scattering the cleared snow everywhere again. To prevent anyone from slipping and damaging the gift boxes during transport, many people were sweeping.

More people were securing the gift boxes, tying them tightly and arranging them in proper order.

The first eight loads were meant to display status and orthodoxy, carrying dark and light silks, bound fabric, and the official gift list, which had to be held by a designated person to make clear the purpose of the betrothal.

Among them were ten bolts of bound silk—two each of damask, gauze, satin, and brocade—stacked in the color order of dark, light, red, and yellow, with the edges showing patterns for all to see, displaying wealth and sincerity.

Then came the ritual vessels—bronze and jade bi discs symbolizing offerings to ancestors—placed in brocade boxes lined with red velvet cushions to prevent damage in transit.

The filigree-inlaid, gem-set hexagonal gold vases Meng Wan had chosen were to be placed at the very front, showing respect for the imperial family. His and Song Tingzhou's calligraphy and paintings represented the elders' goodwill, showing how much they valued A Xun.

Song Tingzhou's work was one thing, but Meng Wan had a considerable reputation in painting. He deliberately included his own work to give Chu Ci added prestige.

The first team was ready, and next came the second.

Unlike the first team, which was purely for ceremony and display, the second team was the core of the betrothal gifts.

For families sending thirty-two loads, the usual arrangement was eight in front, eight in the middle, and sixteen in the back. But Meng Wan's hundred taels of gold and twenty thousand taels of silver alone took up twenty loads, not to mention the other jade and jewelry.

In desperation, Huang Ye had a carpenter make larger gift boxes—the ones for gold and silver were a size bigger than the rest. Gold and silver took up fourteen loads, and jewelry took four.

That left only six loads for the third team. There was no room for the daily-use items they'd planned, but since the Miao family didn't live in Shengjing and Chu Ci's bridal chamber already had a full set of furniture, Meng Wan simply cut those items. The remaining six loads held wine and two sets of bedding, barely fitting everything in.

Wrapped in layers of clothing and stepping outside, the sky was just beginning to lighten. The tip of Meng Wan's nose under his hat was red from the cold as he yawned and walked forward.

He'd heard Zhimao say that Wu Zhaoyuan had arrived, so he needed to go receive him.

Huang Ye was bustling about the courtyard at a brisk pace. "Replace the jars of wine that were bumped—didn't we prepare extra? More people, go. Zhifan, Zhimao, you two hold the gift list and the calligraphy and paintings carefully—be extremely cautious."

Meng Wan skirted around the bare flower beds, smiling as he encouraged everyone, "Steady now—when you get back, there'll be a reward for each of you."

Gui Qian, the most capable servant after Huang Ye, was the first to react, offering his congratulations to Meng Wan. "Congratulations, Young Master! We'll deliver the betrothal gifts safely. Oh, and Young Master, the eldest young master has gone to the front courtyard to receive Lord Wu."

Meng Wan looked up at the sky. "Alright, get ready. I'll go see him, and then we'll set off."

Chu Ci was indeed in the main hall, sitting with Wu Zhaoyuan. Wu Zhaoyuan couldn't understand sign language, so Chu Ci used a charcoal pencil he carried to write things down.

"Brother, have you been here long?" Meng Wan greeted Wu Zhaoyuan as he entered.

During the betrothal ceremony, the groom's family would send relatives and a matchmaker to deliver the gifts. Meng Wan had to stay home, and Chu Ci, as the groom-to-be, certainly couldn't go to the Ge residence to see anyone in advance.

Wu Zhaoyuan was close to Song Tingzhou and held an appropriate official rank—he was the perfect choice.

"I just arrived a moment ago. Before I left, Xiao Cao'er wet his bed, so I changed him." Wu Zhaoyuan's expression was gentle and content, a slight smile on his lips. Over the winter, his face had filled out a bit—no longer the gaunt, scholarly look of before. He radiated a soft glow all over.

Meng Wan's mouth twitched. Wu Zhaoyuan had become a completely different person since gaining a son. The pains of childhood and the melancholy of his youth seemed to have dissipated with that infant's first cry. After work each day, he'd either watch the child or sit with a book, talking to his son, often snatching chores away from the maids and wet nurses. Even Zheng Shushen found it quite exasperating.

"It's getting late. I'll have to trouble you with this trip, Elder Brother."

Wu Zhaoyuan straightened his robes. "We're family—no need for all that. Since you've entrusted this to me, I'll see it done properly."

Chu Ci, standing nearby, also rose to see them off. Before leaving, he took off the peace pendant he always carried—beneath it hung a small sachet containing a poison he'd carefully crafted, one that few in the world could counteract.

He glanced at Meng Wan and signed with his hands, "Father, I'd like to give this to A Xun."

This peace pendant was the first gift Meng Wan had ever given Chu Ci. He smiled and patted Chu Ci's shoulder. "It's yours to give. Have Uncle Wu hold onto it for you."

The two stood in the alley, watching as Wu Zhaoyuan led the way on horseback, followed by Huang Ye and Gui Qian, with Zhifan and Zhimao holding the betrothal lists, Chi Yu guarding the front of the second procession, and Xue Sheng bringing up the rear. The whole group set off in a grand procession.

Meng Wan withdrew his gaze, but Chu Ci beside him was still lost in thought. He and A Xun were rarely apart, and at this moment, his heart had probably gone with the pendant.

Meng Wan teased, "You haven't eaten yet? Let's head back. Just one more month and we'll bring A Xun home."

At the mention of A Xun's name, Chu Ci's heart skipped a beat. Somewhat embarrassed, he pulled his gaze back and followed Meng Wan inside.

The betrothal ceremony was second only to the wedding procession in grandeur. Along the way, drums and gongs rang out, drawing crowds of curious winter onlookers.

Shengjing was used to displays of wealth—noble families spared no expense in their unions—but the eighteen loads of gold, silver, and jewels arranged by Meng Wan were still too eye-catching. Those were tangible riches, far more impressive than empty, ostentatious gifts.

"I've watched plenty of betrothal ceremonies, but this is the first time I've seen the middle fuller than the ends," someone in the crowd marveled.

Another asked, "Whose family is sending the betrothal gifts? The procession looks like it's from an official's household."

"You must not live around here. It's Lord Song, the Prefect of Shuntian, whose eldest son is marrying a husband."

"Prefect of Shuntian? Lord Song was promoted again after the new year—he's now Vice Minister of Justice!"

"Vice Minister of Justice? Wow, that's a second-rank big shot. No wonder the display is so grand."

In the city, throw a brick and you'd hit two seventh-rank officials. The common folk had seen plenty of high officials and weren't as naive as country folk. Over the past few days, Huang Ye had sent people to fabric shops, carpenters, and taverns, so many nearby households had heard of the Song family's upcoming celebration.

"I've heard of Lord Song too—he looks pretty young, doesn't he? His son's already marrying? I wonder who the lucky young man is. He's fortunate indeed."

Xiaoge had always held low status due to difficulties bearing children. Great households typically married women, and male spouses were rare. Even a high official's son, to become a rightful spouse, could only marry beneath his station.

Song Tingzhou, as a prominent court minister, could have his son marry a woman, but if he chose a husband, even a prince's son would be worthy.

The more gossip spread, the more curiosity it sparked. Many followed the procession, drawing closer to the imperial city, and the crowd felt a satisfied sense of "just as expected."

Wu Zhaoyuan dismounted at Lord Ge's gate. Huang Ye, holding a red betrothal card, handed it to the doorman and said courteously, "Please inform Lord Ge that the Song family has sent envoys with betrothal gifts, hoping the Ge family will accept."

With that, he pulled a red envelope from his sleeve and pressed it into the doorman's hand.

The doorman, already instructed, pocketed the envelope and hurried inside to report.

Ge Quan was waiting in the front courtyard. Upon receiving the news, he immediately ordered the gates opened to welcome the guests.

Wu Zhaoyuan, as the day's envoy, entered first to greet Ge Quan with a bow, stating his purpose, "On this auspicious day, I present betrothal gifts to your esteemed residence. May the two young ones be bound in everlasting union, growing old together for a hundred years!"