Chapter 134: Fulfilling the Oath

Li Qingzhao’s mother, Lady Wang, had passed away at an early age. Subsequently, Li Gefei married a second wife, also surnamed Wang, who was a descendant of Wang Gongchen, the top scholar (Zhuangyuan) of the eighth year of the Tiansheng reign under Emperor Renzong of Song. She, too, hailed from a prominent and noble family, possessed profound erudition, excelled in literary composition, and was thoroughly versed in propriety and reason.

After marrying Li Gefei, Lady Wang remained childless and thus raised Li Qingzhao as her very own. Seeing that Li Qingzhao still adamantly refused to consent, she gently persuaded her: "Qing'er, those of the same surname cannot marry. Such is the law of our Great Song; it cannot be violated."

Marriage between individuals of the same surname was a matrimonial taboo in this era, strictly forbidden by the legal codes of successive dynasties.

Not only was marrying a wife of the same surname prohibited, but even taking a concubine whose surname was unknown was likewise impermissible.

The *Song Penal Code - Household and Marriage Law* stipulated that anyone contracting a marriage with someone of the same surname shall be sentenced to two years of penal servitude, and if the relationship falls within the mourning grade of Sima or closer, it shall be treated as illicit intercourse. In other words, same-surname marriage carried a two-year exile, while same-surname marriage within the five degrees of mourning was prosecuted as adultery, which carried a minimum sentence of three years in exile.

Lady Wang’s citation of this legal statute left Li Qingzhao utterly speechless. She gazed in a daze at both Li Gefei and Lady Wang, her heart weighed down by profound sorrow and distress.

No matter the circumstances or the endeavor, one could not defy the legal codes. For Li Sanjian’s sake, Li Qingzhao could no longer pursue this course. Even if the two of them were to forcibly wed, and even if temporarily no one held them accountable, it would forever remain a laughingstock among contemporaries and a lingering hazard, a handle that anyone could seize at any moment to cause trouble.

"Qing'er, this is the will of Heaven. The will of Heaven cannot be defied; you must accept your fate." Seeing Li Qingzhao’s sorrowful expression, Li Gefei could not bear it. He drew her close to his side and sighed softly.

In truth, the prohibition against same-surname marriages in the *Song Penal Code - Household and Marriage Law* targeted marriages between those of the same clan and surname—meaning descendants sharing the same ancestor were forbidden to marry, whereas sharing a surname while belonging to different clans did not fall under this restriction. However, according to the *Book of Rites - Summary of the Rules of Propriety*, such unions remained impermissible, and proceeding with them would constitute a violation of ritual and law.

Who could know whether Li Sanjian and Li Qingzhao shared the same remote ancestor? Were they of the same lineage if one traced back eighteen generations? Thus, whether their marriage would violate the laws of the Song remained uncertain, but it unquestionably breached the rules of ritual and propriety. For this reason, both Li Gefei and Lady Wang maintained their opposition.

At the same time, Lady Wang, viewing Li Qingzhao as her own flesh and blood, naturally hoped that she would marry into a distinguished and wealthy family, wedding a man of established academic rank or official merit so that she might live out her days free from material worries, in peace and lasting happiness.

Consequently, although Lady Wang was well-versed in the Song penal codes, she omitted the detail that same-surname individuals belonging to different clans were legally permitted to marry.

"I... I simply refuse," Li Qingzhao said stubbornly.

......

"I... I refuse... I beg... Father... to reconsider." Zhao Mingcheng, son of Zhao Tingzhi, felt a tremor of fear, yet still stammered his refusal.

"Why do you refuse?" Zhao Tingzhi asked in astonishment upon hearing this. "Have you not always been fond of Li Gefei’s daughter?"

"Fa... Father, what do you mean by this? How did you know that your son is fond of her?" Zhao Mingcheng asked, casting a bewildered glance at Zhao Tingzhi.

"No one knows a son better than his father," Zhao Tingzhi said with a stern face. "Did you not dream of a book a few days earlier? The book bore eight characters: 'Words combined with the official, the top of peace already shed, the zhi and fu grasses plucked.' At the time, you did not understand their meaning, but now your father shall interpret the dream for you. 'Words combined with the official' forms the character for 'Ci' (lyrics); 'the top of peace already shed' forms the character for 'Nu' (woman); and 'the zhi and fu grasses plucked' means 'her husband.' Does this not mean that you are destined to become 'the husband of the lyric-writing woman'? Li Gefei’s daughter, Qingzhao, is a talented young woman renowned for her lyrics. Is this not the very desire of your heart? This is the will of Heaven; it must not be defied."

"Even so... yet your son still refuses," Zhao Mingcheng persisted in his refusal.

"Why is this?" Zhao Tingzhi’s expression grew increasingly grim as he demanded in a deep voice.

Zhao Tingzhi felt an immense sense of depression. He had originally believed the families to be well-matched in social standing and the young couple to be a handsome match of talent and beauty—a joyous occasion for all. Yet how could matters have generated so many twists and turns, reaching such a pass? First, Li Gefei showed reluctance, using the excuse of returning home to consult others, and now his own son was rejecting the match.

Zhao Tingzhi felt an extraordinary surge of irritation in his heart.

In the past, Zhao Tingzhi had been at loggerheads with the Yuanyou partisans, treating them like bitter enemies. However, times change with circumstances; currently, the political winds at court were shifting unpredictably, prompting Zhao Tingzhi to curry favor with the Yuanyou faction through a marriage alliance.

Emperor Zhao Xu of Song was frail and sickly—a fact known to all. Once Zhao Xu passed away, dramatic upheavals in the court politics would inevitably ensue, leaving Zhao Tingzhi with no choice but to plan for the future. Furthermore, upon Zhao Xu’s departure, Empress Dowager Xiang would inevitably act as regent behind the curtain, as this was the established custom of successive Song reigns.

Should Zhao Tingzhi ingratiate himself with the Yuanyou faction now, he would secure a margin for maneuver should any genuine upheaval strike the court later on, at the very least preserving his current official rank and standing.

Zhao Tingzhi did not feel the slightest sense of shame regarding this maneuver. How many such actions had people like them committed already? Their past deeds were worse and more excessive than this! Some individuals acted with a shamelessness far exceeding his own...

No matter what, this marriage had to succeed, Zhao Tingzhi told himself in his heart.

"Father..." Though timid, Zhao Mingcheng summoned his courage and replied, "Brother Hanren... Brother Hanren is my friend. As the saying goes, a friend’s wife must not be violated. How could your son possibly... possibly take her as his wife?"

In truth, Li Sanjian had only met Zhao Mingcheng a handful of times, and the two had scarcely shared more than a few cups of wine together. Compared to Zeng Gongming, the bond of friendship between them was vastly inferior. Yet at this moment, Zhao Mingcheng clung to this meager friendship and steadfastly refused to consent to the match.

"What? Li Gefei’s daughter already has a husband? When did they marry? Who is this Hanren?" Zhao Tingzhi asked in immense shock upon hearing this.

If Li Qingzhao was already married, what nonsense was there left to talk about regarding a marital alliance between the two families? Zhao Tingzhi thought with mounting fury.

"Hanren is Li Sanjian," Zhao Mingcheng replied, shaking his head. "They have... not... married. They haven't even... betrothed... It's just that..." Before Zhao Mingcheng could finish, Zhao Tingzhi interrupted him.

"Ha!" Zhao Tingzhi burst into furious laughter upon hearing this, laughing so hard that tears nearly spilled from his eyes. "You... you wretched... How did I ever father a son like you? Do you intend to drive me to my grave? Ha? They aren't even betrothed; where does this talk of a 'wife' come from? That Li Sanjian is merely a Juren scholar from Lingnan who authored treasonous writings in the fourth year of Shaosheng! Today, let your father tell you the truth: Li Sanjian has already offended the reigning chancellor. Given this, what future could such a man possibly have? He has no future to speak of; his entire life will be one of utter destitution and disgrace. Such a man, and you dare not contend with him? You actually wish to cede Li Gefei’s daughter to him? Do you wish to anger your father to death?"

......

"Mother, your daughter has come to see you. Are you still being bullied over there? Are you living well on that side?" Kneeling before a solitary grave in the suburbs of Guizhou, a young, veiled woman wept and bowed.

This solitary grave was nothing more than a conical mound of earth, unattended and unmanaged, sheltered only by a few large trees, appearing exceptionally desolate in the setting sun.

Cai Rongxue’s slender figure was stretched long by the rays of the setting sun, rendering her appearance all the more profoundly desolate.

People only knew Cai Rongxue as the distinguished young lady of the Cai household, the daughter of Cai Jing, whose days were surely spent in comfort, ease, and peerless splendor. In truth, how could anyone who had lost their biological parents lead a truly good life? Bereft of the sheltering wings of one's parents, life is, regardless of circumstance, exceptionally arduous.

Cai Rongxue had been adopted into the Cai household at a tender age. Living under someone else's roof, she endured cold stares and relentless bullying. Faced with such an existence, she dared not vent her anger, submitting meekly to her circumstances, and only dared to reminisce about the sweet days when her mother was still alive when she was entirely alone.

Cai Jing treated her with a fair degree of generosity, providing her with fine silks, rich foods, and every material necessity, and even engaging a tutor specifically to instruct her in reading. Yet Cai Rongxue understood in her heart that Cai Jing was merely biding his time, treating her as a bargaining chip or an object to be gifted to another in order to achieve his own ends.

In Cai Jing’s eyes, Cai Rongxue was a precious artifact, ready to be traded at any moment for something of equivalent value.

His attempt to bestow Cai Rongxue upon He Changyan as a concubine was proof of this; had Cai Rongxue not resisted resolutely, Cai Jing might well have already given her away.

To become another man’s concubine? Cai Rongxue would rather die than submit. Her mother, Pipa, had been a concubine of Cai Que, living a life of utter misery—a fate that followed her even beyond the grave.

After Cai Que’s name was officially cleared by the court, his remains had been relocated to his hometown for burial, yet Pipa’s grave remained a lonely mound standing in the savage wilderness of Lingnan, utterly neglected. It lacked even a proper gravestone, marked only by a crude wooden slab bearing her name, as no one dared to inscribe the title of Lady Cai Que upon it.

Then there was her elder sister, who had been abducted and sold off in childhood, leaving her fate—whether living or dead—completely unknown.

Heaven have mercy; if only she could recover her sister in this lifetime, even instant death would be worth it, Cai Rongxue thought to herself.

The memory of her pitiable sister caused another sharp pang in Cai Rongxue’s heart, agonizing as a knife twist.

"Eighth Sister, the day is growing late. Should we not return to Guizhou?" Xiaoqin, her personal maid, asked while Cai Rongxue was lost in her thoughts.

"Wait a little longer. I wish to stay here by Mother’s side a while longer," Cai Rongxue replied in a somewhat dazed tone.

At that moment, gusts of chilly wind swept through, rustling the leaves on the surrounding trees with a crisp, dry rattle. The sound made Xiaoqin shrink her neck, feeling the cold drafts piercing straight down her collar.

"This... Eighth Sister, it is almost dark..." Xiaoqin urged once more.

Guizhou was not like Bianjing, which was heavily fortified, well-policed, and relatively safe. Guizhou was situated in Lingnan, a region where Han Chinese and various ethnic minorities mingled, and who could know what perils might occur here?

Cai Rongxue shook her head and sank back into her own thoughts.

Xiaoqin watched her with a puzzled expression; it seemed her young mistress was waiting for someone.

"Miss, are you waiting for him again?" Xiaoqin asked after a moment.

At this, Cai Rongxue’s face flushed red; she lowered her head and nodded.

"Why do you not simply make your feelings clear to him, Miss? You are..." Xiaoqin began to ask again.

"You do not understand," Cai Rongxue replied softly.

......

Early the next morning, just as the dawn was breaking, the sound of urgent hoofbeats echoed from the edge of the forest. A sturdy steed burst through the trees and galloped right up to Cai Rongxue and her companions.

"What? You are still here?" Li Sanjian asked in astonishment, seated atop his horse.