Sang Luo, the Dragon Maiden - Chapter 3

Within a fortnight, the love story of the Sixth Prince Yan Chengjun and Commandery Princess Mingyue, Chu Qingyue, had spread even farther.

Children in every street and alley clapped as they sang:

“The Han emperor cherished A-Jiao, and housed her in halls of gold;
Chengjun adores his Qingyue, and seeks long life for her far from home.”

Before long, women everywhere were measuring prospective husbands against the Sixth Prince, vowing to marry a man just like him.

As the saying went, “For a husband, choose Yan Chengjun; for a wife, choose Liu Ruoyun.”

Liu Ruoyun was the Chancellor’s eldest daughter by his principal wife, the foremost beauty and most accomplished woman in Great Yan. Half the men in the empire could probably have called her their ideal bride.

That gave some idea of how widely Yan Chengjun’s devotion was being praised.

Even the reigning Emperor Yanhe, Yan Beicheng, heard of his sixth son’s fine reputation and commended him.

The civil and military officials at court promptly joined in the praise. Everyone knew that the emperor favored this son above the rest. Yan Chengjun might well become Great Yan’s next ruler.

Naturally, Yan Chengjun was riding high. Not only did he spend his days discussing poetry and painting with his childhood sweetheart Chu Qingyue in the restaurant, but he had gained a glowing reputation and moved another step closer to becoming heir to the throne.

He didn’t mind his name being passed from mouth to mouth. It was praise, after all.

Apart from the wife who had shared his hard times irritating him with her daily presence, his life was going very well indeed.

I pretended not to see the little frown that sometimes creased his brow.

I knew things had gone too smoothly. Yan Chengjun was losing patience.

Legend had it that fish who had awakened to awareness feared Purple Dawn Wine above all else. One drink would leave them utterly powerless. But the wine was hard to come by: hundreds of rare medicinal herbs went into a single small jar.

Lately, Yan Chengjun had been sending people out to find those herbs.

One day over a meal, while his mind was elsewhere, I remarked casually, “I had such good luck today. I found a shegu herb! It should fetch quite a bit. Then I can buy you a few more sets of clothes.”

“Shegu?” His voice rose sharply.

The herb wasn’t extraordinarily powerful. It was simply very rare, usually found only in the borderlands, and not necessarily obtainable at short notice.

As it happened, it was also one of the essential ingredients in Purple Dawn Wine, and Yan Chengjun had been looking for it.

“You already work so hard gathering herbs all day, Luo’er. I’m going to town tomorrow anyway. Why don’t I take it to the proprietor of Jihe Hall for you?” He moved behind me and gently massaged my shoulders.

“But the proprietor is such a shrewd man. I’m afraid he’ll cheat you. Perhaps I’d better go myself.” I made a show of hesitating.

“That’s easily solved. Tell me what this shegu is worth, Luo’er, and I’ll make sure not to sell it for less.”

“All right.” I told him it was worth ten taels of gold. He didn’t even blink.

The following evening, he duly brought home ten taels of gold.

What he didn’t know was that, rare though shegu was, it fetched at most ten taels of silver. He was so eager to get me under his control that he hadn’t even bothered to ask about such details.

Perhaps, to him, I was as worthless as those ten taels of gold.

But none of that mattered to me anymore. I had long since stopped hoping he still loved me.

I was waiting for A-Chi.