Seoja recognized the signal first. "They're here!" she announced, rising to her feet. "The bride, Lady Qian Jin!"
Completing discarding the mannerism of wandering martial artists and acting much like gossiping aristocrats, nearly every retainer and bodyguard in the room crowded toward the windows overlooking the great courtyard. Mayumi found a vantage point only through Seoja's graciousness, though even so, space is contested. It seems everyone here are too eager to get a glimpse of Lady Qian Jin's supposed beauty that can rival that of Lady Te Gaogui's peerless complexions.
"We as a collective really need better hobbies," Seoja sighed, feeling the squeeze from everyone else. It appears her sentiment seem to be a common consensus amongst the other colleagues, who also felt they should act all with less humiliating tendencies.
Nevertheless, weddings in major cities are elaborate affairs, replete with decorations and intricate rituals. As Shan had explained, this union bound two influential Upper Ring households, securing a general's family ties to Ba Sing Se, a strategic spectacle as much as a personal celebration.
...
The procession of musicians, blaring jubilant and almost brazenly cheerful melodies, finally heralded the arrival of the bride. A carried sedan with lavishly adorned decorations is glided through the gate of the Gan Jin estate.
Gong Zi offered a reluctant greeting. It is an unwritten expectation for the groom to mingle through the modest crowd, a form of obstacle to be endured. One could hardly overlook the absence of genuine mirth in the Ganjinese heir's countenance. Given the obvious nature of this arranged union, his muted demeanor is hardly surprising.
At last, Lady Qian Jin was carefully guided out of the carriage. True to tradition, her visage remained shrouded by a veil that cloaked her entire head. She stepped upon the carpet, and with measured grace, traversed the courtyard. Guests, including Han Fei and the esteemed statesmen of Ba Sing Se, rose in unison to offer their felicitations. Shan mirrored their gestures with studied decorum, murmuring platitudes that echoed those of his scholarly peers. As for the retainers and bodyguards, they observed silently as the bride and groom advanced toward the main hall, initiating the rituals that would formally bind them.
At the hall's center is where the Gan Jin patriarch and his wife is seated, flanking a stone carving of the legendary ancestor Jin Wei. As rehearsed, Gong Zi and Qian Jin entered, executing the three kowtows with solemn precision.
First to the Heaven
Second to the parents
Third to each other
This ritual, encompassing reverence for family, deities and departed ancestors, conferred upon them the status of official spouses. Once concluded, the bride would retire to the bridal chamber, and the guests would partake in the ensuing banquet.
"Well, at least that part is done," Han Fei remarked.
Shan watched Gong Zi pass with his habitual measured gait. In years spent among the Upper Ring, he had learned the critical lesson that one must never read a man's face at face value. The Ganjinese heir's courteous smile, offered in response to congratulatory pleasantries, could easily be misinterpreted as fondness for his bride. Yet, it is entirely possible that Gong Zi harbored no affection for the woman now officially his wife. This ceremonial veneer served only to mask the stark reality that neither had truly chosen this union. To the untrained eye of the guests, however, the pairing appeared idyllic. A 'scholar' matched with a beauty, a tableau often immortalized in many literatures.
A fleeting thought temporarily occupied Shan. if Gong Zi is not a true scholar, could Qian Jin be similarly ironic in nature?
He dismissed the notion with a sigh. Such petty considerations are beneath him. A Legalist need not concern himself even if Qian Jin is revealed to be the most hideous creature. So long as General Sun Bin fulfilled his duties to the state, all else is inconsequential.
The scholar closed his eyes as the banquet finally commenced. The objective had been achieved, yet not a trace of content marked his face. His talents, he mused, would be better to serve endeavors destined to carve a legacy into history.
"At least sit down, my protege," Han Fei said, gesturing toward the approaching wine. "The vintages arrives soon."
The men, alongside a few merchants, took their seats as the dishes began to appear. To call the feast merely sumptuous would be a gross understatement. Dongpo pork, prepared by Lady Qian Jin's family, opened the banquet while prized liquors heightened the festive air. Already, a few retainers on the third table struggled to contain their anticipation, their salivation betraying the grandeur of the spread.
The occasion, in its orchestrated perfection, is indeed the pride of the Gan Jin clan. With the city's dignitaries, some Earth Sages and newly minted scholarly gentlemen of the rigorous Keju examinations among the guests, music swelled, infusing the courtyard with a sense of exalted celebration.
But at last, perfection is seldom left undisturbed. Shan exhaled lightly, aware that his scholarly labor in service of preserving the Gan Jin's reputation has already teetered on the brink of being squandered.
"My, what a delightful gathering!" a voice declared, its tone insolent with practiced charm. "Surely my invitation was not lost in transit?"