Chapter 2

Before long, a beautifully dressed woman hurried in, followed by a bustling entourage.

The middle-aged woman standing to the lady’s right brightened upon seeing Nie Long.

The woman approached Nie Long, taking her hand and saying, “My treasure, how are you feeling? Any discomfort?”

She sighed. “Mother can’t bear to part with you either. They say the palace gates are as deep as the sea—once you’re married in, it won’t be easy for me to see you again. Still, it’s fortunate. The current Emperor is a truly remarkable man, and since his ascension, the rear palace has remained empty. You’ll enter as Empress, and no one would dare mistreat you.”

Nie Long stood frozen in place.

One hand remained in the woman’s grasp as she slightly lowered her head, her expression hidden from others. In truth, Nie Long’s thoughts had already wandered far away.

From the moment she saw this woman, a flood of memories suddenly surged through her mind. This overwhelming rush of images collided and settled within her. Nie Long raised a hand to press against her temple.

Noticing her pale complexion, the woman grew increasingly worried. She reached out to touch Nie Long’s forehead with the back of her hand—fortunately, there was no sign of fever. Relieved, she turned to instruct the matron: “Aunt Hua, quickly fetch a Heart-clearing Pill for the young miss to take.”

Nie Long continued processing these bewildering memories, passively allowing them to proceed. Her wet nurse, Mama Yu, accepted the pill and poured a cup of water to help the young lady take it.

Afterward, the middle-aged woman called Yun Niangzi stood to the side, directing another elderly lady in helping Nie Long with her makeup, face application, and hair styling.

The reason for calling her a middle-aged woman was that, though she was already past her prime, she wore her hair in the style of an unmarried maiden—yet it looked perfectly natural. Her makeup was exquisitely understated, showing considerable expertise in cosmetic artistry.

Under Yun Niangzi’s guidance, the kind-faced elderly lady skillfully applied foundation to Nie Long’s face, then dabbed rouge on her cheeks, blending it gently with her fingers.

Yun Niangzi instructed, “Too much, too much—wipe off some color. You can apply powder now. Our Long-jie has such dewy, fair skin—just a light layer will do.”

After applying the Rosy Cloud Makeup, they proceeded to shape her eyebrows and apply floral decorations. Nie Long sat motionless throughout, letting them work their artistry. Perhaps this was typical behavior for Long-jie, coupled with the inevitable melancholy before marriage, so no one found it suspicious.

The elderly lady assisting was the wife of the old Marquis of Yangbohou Manor—a perfectly proportioned, supremely fortunate matriarch blessed with all virtues. Though Yun Niangzi possessed exceptional makeup skills, being unmarried and childless meant she couldn’t personally apply the bridal makeup on such an auspicious occasion, though she could offer guidance.

Noble ladies in the capital often invited her to advise on their wedding makeup—her techniques produced far more beautiful results than ordinary methods.

Most marriages nowadays were arranged between families of equal status, with parental approval and a matchmaker’s involvement. Once both families agreed and exchanged betrothal gifts, the wedding could proceed.

But who wouldn’t want their husband to fall for them at first sight?

Yun Niangzi’s makeup artistry was miraculous, her discerning eye capable of transforming three parts beauty into eight or nine, or elevating eight parts into perfect ten.

As for Nie Long of Duke Nie’s household—already a stunning beauty—the stunned expressions of all the maids and matrons in the room spoke volumes.

Old Madam Yang handed her a Lip Rouge Tablet. “Long-jie, just press your lips together lightly.”

Nie Long instinctively took it and faced the blurry bronze mirror. She placed the vermilion Lip Rouge Tablet between her lips, pressed them lightly together, then released.  

The vermilion rouge stained her cherry lips, with a deep crimson hue blooming at the center—just like the saying, “A touch of vermilion lips, peach blossom red.”  

The reflection in the bronze mirror was hazy, indistinct, yet this very ambiguity lent an air of mystery and allure.  

The beauty sat before the mirror, her posture straight and slender, her silhouette soft and delicate, like a painting of a peerless maiden—naturally graceful, dignified beyond compare.  

Nie Long stared in awe. Was this really how she looked in ancient attire?  

Two sets of memories—two different lives—intertwined in her mind. Faces so similar, yet worlds apart. For a moment, she was lost in confusion.  

Was she truly the simple, unassuming kindergarten teacher from the modern world? Or was she the noble maiden of ancient times, about to marry into the imperial palace and become the most revered woman in the land?  

Which one was the fleeting dream?  

Her hair was still loose, not yet pinned up, yet she was already breathtakingly beautiful. Yun Niangzi, who had an eye for beauty, flushed with excitement and quickly called for Old Madam Yang to comb and style the bride’s hair.  

Old Madam Yang chuckled merrily, holding a wooden comb as she gathered the waist-length tresses, marveling, “Miss Long’s hair is truly exceptional—so smooth and glossy. In all my years, I’ve never seen such lustrous black locks. Only those blessed by heaven could be worthy of such beauty.”  

Yun Niangzi nodded eagerly, while Nie Long’s birth mother, Madam Nie, beamed with pride and affection, her eyes crinkling with joy.  

The old madam gathered the hair to one side, cradling it in one hand while combing with the other, reciting softly,  

“First comb to the end, wealth without end;  

Second comb to the end, free from illness and sorrow;  

Third comb to the end, blessed with many sons and long life;  

One more comb to the tips, harmony and love through the years…”  

Once the hair was pinned up, Madam Nie herself opened the jewelry box and adorned her daughter’s hair with hairpins. But that wasn’t all—maids stood by with trays, one bearing the five-kilogram Nine Dragons and Nine Phoenixes Coronet, another holding a grand crimson wedding gown embroidered with the Hundred Birds Paying Homage to the Phoenix Cloud Pattern.  

After Nie Long was ushered into the inner chambers by the maids and matrons, she emerged transformed—radiant with the unmatched dignity and grace befitting the future empress.  

Apart from Madam Nie, who supported her daughter as she stepped out, the others instinctively bowed, not daring to look too closely.  

Old Madam Yang smiled. “Your Majesty’s future is boundless with blessings. This old woman is honored to have dressed you today—it is I who have been graced by Your Majesty’s fortune.”  

By the time all this was done, two hours had passed, and the sky was fully bright.  

The distant sound of firecrackers drifted into the rear courtyard, growing clearer by the moment.  

Soon, the clamor of gongs and drums rose as well. The wedding planner bustled in, hands on her hips, a handkerchief clutched in excitement. “Ah, Your Majesty, are you ready? The imperial procession has arrived to fetch the bride!”  

“They’ve just passed the Meridian Gate and will turn onto our street shortly. The leading eunuch urged us to prepare—we mustn’t delay the auspicious hour!”  

“And where is the eldest young master? Fetch him quickly—His Majesty must carry Her Majesty to the bridal sedan!”  

Madam Nie stepped forward, a faint smile on her lips. “Understood. Please wait a moment. My son will arrive shortly—we won’t miss the timing.”  

The others, sensing the mother and daughter wished to share a private moment, tactfully withdrew.

Madam Nie’s still-beautiful face immediately shed tears as she hastily picked up a handkerchief to wipe them away, her voice tinged with a reluctant sob.  

Nie Long nestled obediently in her embrace, allowing this “mother” to pour out her maternal affection.  

“My treasure, my precious child… Once you marry into the palace today, it won’t be easy for you to leave. If you miss me, just send word, and I’ll come to the palace to see you.”  

She tightly held her daughter’s hands, earnestly advising, “Though His Majesty is occupied with court affairs and the harem remains empty, you’ll still be second only to him in status. But the imperial family is still the imperial family. If His Majesty adds more consorts in the future, don’t be heartbroken or lose your composure. No one will surpass you. From what I’ve seen, His Majesty has a good temperament—as long as you don’t make mistakes, he won’t favor concubines over his wife.”  

Seeing her daughter’s dazed expression, Madam Nie grew even more worried.  

“Our family is nothing before the imperial family, but if you ever suffer any grievances, don’t endure them in silence. Write to your father and me. Your eldest brother has now entered officialdom, and in the future, he’ll be your support.”  

At this point, the woman sighed in regret and sorrow. “If only… if only your grandfather hadn’t been so foolish back then, you wouldn’t have to marry into the palace now… Your cousin… Ah, never mind. What’s done is done—no use dwelling on it. It wouldn’t be good if His Majesty heard such talk.”  

She handed over a list of names and documents, tucking them into her daughter’s arms.  

“My treasure, go into the palace with peace of mind. Your father has arranged people there for you—use them as you please.”  

……  

Nie Long was veiled under a red bridal cover when a man carrying the faint scent of pinewood crouched down to carry her on his back. His spine was straight, his stature tall and slightly lean, his bones pressing against her just enough to be noticeable. Nie Long felt a rare flicker of curiosity.  

Tentatively, she called, “Eldest Brother…”  

The man responded softly, “Be good, my treasure.”  

“I grew up with His Majesty. He promised me he would take good care of you. Don’t worry, my treasure—your eldest brother will always be here for you.”  

His warm, soothing voice flowed like a gentle spring, calming her heart with its reassuring cadence.  

Something in Nie Long’s mind stirred. She suppressed the slight trembling in her hands as they rested on his shoulders, and in that moment, two sets of memories merged seamlessly. From then on, Nie Long truly became Nie Long—the cherished second daughter of Duke Nie’s household.  

To express her preciousness, Duke Nie had named her following the jade-themed naming tradition of her brothers, choosing “Long” (珑), meaning “rare gem.”Upon her coming-of-age, she was given the courtesy name “Baoyu” (precious jade), with the childhood nickname “Baor” (treasure).  

Nie Long had an elder brother, Nie Jue, the man now carrying her to her wedding, and a seven-year-old younger brother, Nie Hu. The little one couldn’t bear to see his sister married off, convinced that some villain was stealing her away. No matter how others explained, he refused to listen, crying and fussing late into the night. Now, he was still asleep, exhausted from his tantrum.  

Thinking of her dependable elder brother in her memories and the weight of his love for her, Nie Long parted her lips softly and whispered, “Thank you… Eldest Brother.”  

“Mmm, be good.”  

Nie Jue carried his sister slowly, as if the path from the inner courtyard to the front gate was too short. No matter how much he delayed, they eventually reached the end.  

After stepping over the fire basin and kicking the sedan, just as he was about to place her into the bridal sedan—  

Suddenly, a young boy’s wail rang out—

“Wah… Sister, big sister! The bad guys are going to take sister away, big brother, hurry and carry her on your back and run!”

Nie Jue: “…”

Nie Long: “…”

The little boy charged over like a tiny cannonball, with maids and nannies chasing after him, unable to stop him as they panted from exhaustion.

Nie Hu latched onto his elder brother’s leg with a sudden hug, nearly knocking both the brother and sister off balance.

The boy smeared snot and tears all over the scholarly man dressed in refined bamboo-green robes. Tilting his head back, his large, grape-like eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

Perched on the man’s back, Nie Long’s eyes beneath the bridal veil met the boy’s upward gaze. She blinked, and the tearful boy gaped in awestruck admiration, stammering, “S-sister is so pretty!”