In the fifteenth year of Yongxi, on the eighteenth day of the ninth month. The sun slanted westward, and dusk was just beginning to fall.

Xu Ke rode on horseback—a fine chestnut steed, newly saddled and bridled. A red silk embroidered ball was tied to the reins, swaying gently with every step. He wore the ceremonial blue robe of a seventh-rank official, and at his waist hung a newly tied knot of union, a gift from his bride—proper, if somewhat formal.

Behind him stretched the wedding procession for half a li. Eight sedan bearers carried a bridal palanquin draped in red and festooned with color. Golden tassels hung from all four sides of the roof, rustling softly in the autumn breeze. Ahead of the palanquin were two gongs and six musicians, each handling their instruments—sheng flute, drum, cymbals, and suona—in an orderly rhythm, lively but not noisy. Two attendants carried red and yellow ceremonial fans, and two maidservants held palace lanterns on either side of the palanquin. The lanterns had not yet been lit, waiting for the sky to darken further.

Along the fields by the roadside, farmers paused their work to watch, leaning on their hoes and chatting. Under an old pagoda tree at the village entrance, several women held children in their arms, rising on tiptoe to look and pointing as they discussed the procession. Two boys ran out from an alley, shouting as they ran:

“The bride is here! The bride is here!”

They were scolded by adults but still giggled and hid behind the tree to peek.

Xu Ke turned back to glance at the eight-bearer bridal palanquin.

The curtain was drawn tightly shut, revealing nothing of the bride inside. But that was none other than Jia Yingchun—one of the Twelve Beauties of Dream of the Red Chamber. In the book, she is described as having “slightly full flesh, a well-proportioned figure, cheeks like fresh lychees, nose like smooth goose fat, gentle and silent, pleasant to behold.”

A young lady of noble birth—kind and proper by nature.

As for her timid temperament, so timid she would not protest even if pricked by a needle, Xu Ke did not mind. Weakness or silence mattered little; goodness alone was enough.

While he was thinking this, a commotion suddenly broke out ahead.

Xu Ke reined in his horse and frowned toward the front. A crowd had gathered in the middle of the road, blocking the procession entirely.

“Make way! All of you, make way!” Xu Fu had already squeezed through to investigate. Soon he returned with a strange expression.

“My lord, there’s a mute blocking the road up ahead.”

“A mute?”

“Yes. He’s gesturing wildly as if trying to file a complaint. There’s also a man arguing with him, saying the mute tried to steal his wife. They’re in a complete uproar.”

Xu Ke’s brows tightened further. Someone blocking a wedding procession to bring a complaint—was this a real grievance, or a staged disruption?

“Let’s go take a look.”

He dismounted and walked toward the crowd. When the onlookers saw him in seventh-rank official robes with red silk at his waist, they quickly stepped aside to clear a path.

At the center of the crowd, two men were wrestling. More precisely, a burly man in his thirties was grabbing the collar of a thin man, while the thinner man struggled desperately, only able to emit “ah-ah” sounds—it was indeed a mute.

Beside them stood a woman in her twenties, holding a child of three or four years old, head lowered and too afraid to look up.

Seeing Xu Ke approach, the burly man immediately released his grip and knelt down with a thud.

“Your Honor! Please uphold justice for this commoner!”

The mute also dropped to his knees, making frantic gestures with his hands and crying out soundlessly.

Xu Ke looked at them, then at the woman and child, and asked:

“What is going on? Who are you, and why are you blocking the road?”

The burly man spoke first.

“Reporting to Your Honor, this humble one is Zhou Shun, an assistant worker in the western street of the county. This mute is my neighbor, Tian Er. He—he took advantage of my absence and seduced my wife. Today he even came to my home to steal her away! Please, Your Honor, deliver a righteous judgment!”

As he spoke, he pointed at the woman.

“This is my wife, Cui Niang!”

Xu Ke sneered inwardly. I didn’t recognize it at first, but of course—you’re no mere idler. You’re one of the county magistrate’s lackeys.

Tian Er the mute grew frantic upon hearing this. His face flushed red as he shook his head desperately, gesturing even more urgently. He pointed at Cui Niang, then at himself, and clasped his hands in a pleading motion.

Xu Ke watched for a moment and asked:

“You’re saying she is your wife?”

The mute nodded vigorously.

Zhou Shun immediately snapped back:

“Bullshit! Cui Niang has been my wife for three years! You’re just a mute—you can’t even speak, what right do you have to claim a wife?”

The surrounding onlookers whispered among themselves, but no one dared to step forward.

Xu Ke turned to the woman.

“Cui Niang, you speak. Between these two men, who is your husband?”

Cui Niang kept her head lowered, trembling slightly.

“Re… reporting to Your Honor, I am Zhou Shun’s wife,” she said softly.

The mute trembled violently at those words, as though struck by lightning. He knelt frozen in place, tears welling in his eyes.

Zhou Shun looked triumphant.

“Did you hear that, Your Honor? This mute is clearly making false accusations! Please arrest him and give him a severe beating!”

Xu Ke ignored him and asked again:

“If you say you are Zhou Shun’s wife, then this child—whose child is he?”

Cui Niang hesitated for a moment.

“He… he is the child of me and Zhou Shun.”

The mute suddenly raised his head and cried out soundlessly, gesturing wildly. He pointed at the child, then at his own chest, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face.

Xu Ke quietly observed the scene, his gaze slowly sweeping across them.

In his heart, he already understood.

Xu Ke walked to Cui Niang and the child. The boy, only three or four years old, shrank into his mother’s arms and looked at him timidly.

“What is your name?” Xu Ke asked softly, crouching down.

The child did not respond, only burrowed deeper into his mother’s embrace.

Cui Niang hugged him tightly, nervously, while Zhou Shun stared intently at them.

Xu Ke did not press further. Instead, he said to Xu Fu:

“Go buy two sesame pancakes.”

Xu Fu blinked in confusion.

“My lord, this…”

“Just do it.”

Before long, two steaming hot sesame pancakes were brought over.

The crowd watched Xu Ke, unsure of what he intended to do.

Xu Ke picked up one of the sesame cakes and handed it to the child.

“Come, you must be hungry. Eat.”

The child looked at the cake, swallowed hard, then glanced at his mother. Cui Niang neither dared to nod nor shake her head.

Xu Ke placed the cake into the child’s hands.

“Eat. This is a reward from this official.”

The child took it and began devouring it hungrily.

Xu Ke then picked up the second sesame cake and held it out before the child, speaking gently.

“This one—take it to your father.”

The child accepted it and tottered forward on unsteady little legs.

The entire scene fell silent.

He walked up to Tian Er and pushed the cake into his hands, his small voice calling out:

“Daddy, eat!”

Tian Er’s whole body trembled. His hands shook so violently that he could barely hold the cake. Large tears rolled down his face. He pulled the child into his arms, letting out a muffled sob.

Cui Niang’s face turned deathly pale, and she collapsed weakly to the ground.

Zhou Shun’s expression darkened. He suddenly stood up.

“My lord! This doesn’t count! A child knows nothing—”

“Smack!”

Xu Ke snapped his horsewhip sharply and shouted coldly:

“Brazen scoundrel, still not kneeling!”

Zhou Shun’s legs went weak and he dropped back to his knees, still trying to argue.

“My lord, please see clearly! The child is only three years old, what does he know? Someone must have taught him to say this!”

Xu Ke gave a cold laugh.

“However you try to quibble, blood ties cannot be faked. Moreover, you claim you married Cui Niang three years ago, yet this child appears to be three or four years old. Are you saying you had a son a year before marriage?”

Zhou Shun was rendered speechless.

“Zhou Shun abducted a child first and falsely accused others afterward. The facts are clear. Men,” Xu Ke ordered, “take him into custody. We will continue the trial tomorrow.”

As Zhou Shun was dragged away, he did not struggle or beg. Instead, his eyes repeatedly flicked toward someone in the crowd. Xu Ke understood perfectly, but did not stop him.

Tian Er held the child tightly and kept kowtowing on the ground. Xu Ke instructed Xu Fu to help him up and rewarded him with two taels of silver as a wedding gift, allowing him to take Cui Niang home.

“I… I am guilty…” Cui Niang knelt on the ground, tears streaming down her face.

Xu Ke looked at her in silence for a moment.

“You were at fault, but you were forced. This official will not punish you. However, remember this: from today onward, live properly with Tian Er. If you ever waver again, both crimes will be punished together.”

Cui Niang kowtowed repeatedly, sobbing uncontrollably.

The wedding procession resumed and stopped in front of the county yamen.

Xu Ke dismounted and walked to the bridal palanquin, reaching out to help the bride down. Yingchun’s hand was slightly cold and trembling, but she held his tightly.

Crossing the brazier, stepping over the saddle, bowing to Heaven and Earth—the rituals proceeded in order. Finally, they entered the bridal chamber.

Inside, red candles burned brightly. Xu Ke lifted the bridal veil and revealed a gentle, serene face. The candlelight flickered across her features. Yingchun looked up at him briefly, then quickly lowered her gaze again, her ears turning red.

“Today was rather eventful,” Xu Ke said softly. “Did it frighten you?”

Yingchun shook her head.

“I heard it all. My lord’s judgment was clear and precise—you are a good official.”

Xu Ke paused, then smiled.

“Just from this one case, I am already a good official?”

Yingchun nodded seriously.

“Anyone who can uphold justice for the people is a good official.”

Xu Ke looked at her, suddenly recalling how she had been described in his past life as a “wooden beauty,” dull and unfeeling. Yet here she was—alive, breathing, shy, empathetic, and able to call someone a “good official.”

He poured her a cup of wine and took one himself.

“Drink. Tonight is our wedding night. We’ll deal with everything else tomorrow.”

Yingchun accepted the cup and took a small sip, immediately coughing from the strength of the wine.

Xu Ke laughed softly and patted her on the back.

Outside, night had deepened. In the distance, the sound of the night watch drum echoed—third watch already.

Xu Ke extinguished one lamp, leaving only the red candles flickering.

He lay down on the bed and closed his eyes, listening to Yingchun’s faint breathing beside him.

Yet he could not sleep.

Thinking back on his life, everything felt absurdly strange. In his past life, he had been nothing more than a low-level civil servant. He had drunk himself to death at a business banquet. Literally—he had truly died.

When he opened his eyes again, he had become a half-grown orphan raised in a collateral branch of a medical family.

Eventually, he discovered that he had entered the world of Dream of the Red Chamber.

From that moment on, he abandoned medicine for scholarship. Relying on precocious intelligence and ten years of relentless study, he passed the provincial examination at twenty-one. But his progress stalled—he could not become a jinshi. With no other choice, he sought out a distant connection through Lady Xing and attached himself to the Jia family, finally securing the post of magistrate of Shenjing County.

As for Yingchun—five thousand taels of silver for a gentle, obedient wife. Worth it.

Xu Ke turned his head and glanced at the sleeping beauty beside him, feeling a quiet sense of satisfaction.

But the position was not an easy one. Shenjing County, close to the imperial capital, had seen three magistrates in a row fail to complete their terms, all leaving in disgrace. The corruption behind it was obvious.

And today, Zhou Shun’s blatant obstruction was only the beginning. The people behind him were already making their move.

Good.

After a month of quiet preparation, he had already grasped the key to breaking the situation.

Tomorrow, the show would begin.

A candle crackled softly, and a flower of wax fell.

A faint smile curved Xu Ke’s lips.

Then he finally drifted into deep sleep.