On the wedding day, my wife was abnormal

In the second year of the Shenghui era, on the eighth day of the eighth month.

The Japanese delegation had been waiting at the inn in Anzhou for several days. Apart from the awkward scene during their first audience, the Daqian side had not arranged any further formal talks, as if they had been forgotten.

Princess Sakura felt increasingly uneasy, both worried about her mission and filled with curiosity about the city that was rumored to be soaked in blood but now showed a strange vitality.

After obtaining limited permission from the officials of the Ministry of Rites of the Great Qian Dynasty, she decided to travel incognito with her bodyguard commander, Ōtomo Suruga, to explore the streets and towns of Anshu City.

Shedding their elaborate twelve-layered kimono and donning simpler ones, Princess Sakura and Ōtomo Suruga, accompanied by several plainclothes guards from the Ōgan dynasty, walked the streets of Anshu Castle.

It was late summer and early autumn; the sky was high and the clouds were light, and the sun was warm.

Shops lined both sides of the street, banners fluttering in the breeze, and the shouts of vendors filled the air.

The pedestrians were shoulder to shoulder, and although most of them were simply dressed, their faces showed little of the desolation after the war. Instead, they had a sense of fulfillment from being busy making a living, and you could even hear a few laughs occasionally.

Children chased and played on the street corner, while the elderly sat under the eaves, leisurely basking in the sun—a bustling scene of everyday life.

This is completely different from the "land of massacre" that Princess Sakura had imagined!

Her clear eyes were filled with confusion and disbelief. She couldn't help but ask an elderly farmer selling freshly picked fruits by the roadside in broken Chinese, "Old man, isn't Anzhou City a place that has experienced war? Why does everyone seem so peaceful?"

The old farmer raised his head, his dark face covered with wrinkles, but with a kind and honest smile.

He sized up the young man and woman before him, whose clothing was somewhat peculiar and whose accents were strange, as well as the attendants behind them who were clearly officials of the Great Qian Dynasty. He seemed to understand something and said in a heavy Liaodong accent:

"Oh, you are nobles from foreign lands, aren't you? Yes, at this time last year, there was a fierce battle going on inside and outside the city! His Majesty Murong, that is, our Great Qian Emperor, used heavenly fire to break through the city. Back then, a lot of people died."

The old farmer's tone carried a hint of wistfulness, but not much hatred. Instead, he continued:

"But later, Her Majesty issued an edict exempting us from taxes for three years, and even allocated those unwanted lands to us to cultivate. She also sent officials to repair roads and bridges, and distributed grain, seeds, and farming tools. Look at this market; it was also rebuilt with the help of the government. What do we common people want? Nothing more than peace and food to eat! Before, under the King of Goguryeo, the exorbitant taxes were countless, and life was very difficult. Although the thought of that war still makes my heart skip a beat, life is definitely much better than before! Her Majesty is strict, but she is incredibly kind to us common people! She is a true Son of Heaven!"

The old farmer's tone became increasingly respectful, even bordering on worship.

Princess Sakura and Ōtomo Suruga looked at each other, their hearts filled with unbearable shock.

The one who massacred the city became the "Son of Heaven" in the mouths of the people?

This completely subverted their understanding.

They then tentatively asked a few more people, a waiter at a teahouse and a craftsman at a blacksmith's shop, and the answers were largely the same—acknowledging the past tragedy, but focusing more on the present stability and hope, and showing great approval or even admiration for Murong Yan's methods of governing the country.

That kind of heartfelt support cannot be easily faked by power.

"Although Her Majesty Murong was, well, a bit scary back then," a middle-aged woman said while mending clothes, "she kept her word! She said tax exemption and she did, she said land distribution and she distributed land! She's much better than those gentlemen who only know how to exploit us! Now, we just hope that Her Majesty lives to be a hundred years old, so that these good days can continue forever!"

The woman's words were simple, yet they revealed the true sentiments of the people.

Princess Sakura remained silent.

Her initial fear and disgust towards Murong Yan began to waver at this moment.

She began to vaguely understand that the foundation of the reign of that powerful empress in Chang'an was probably not only the terrifying sword, but also such precise and effective appeasement and governance.

This realization made her feel even more desperate about completing her mission.

Ōtomo Suruga also looked solemn, his hand unconsciously resting on the hilt of his sword, but then he let go of it helplessly.

Faced with such seemingly peaceful yet deeply rooted support, any force or conspiracy appears utterly ineffective.

Meanwhile, inside Murong Yan's bedroom at the Anzhou Imperial Palace, a completely different scene unfolded.

As dusk approached, candles were lit inside the hall, casting a soft glow.

Murong Yan was not wearing any formal attire, only the Phoenix Descent Dress, which resembled the most comfortable nightgown. She leaned lazily against the cushioned couch by the window.

The summer heat hadn't subsided, so she set aside her black and gold mink shawl. The cotton fabric of her dress was breathable and sweat-absorbent, perfect for this late summer evening.

Outside the window, the faint sounds of a distant market can be heard.

Under the private and soft light of the bedroom, the Phoenix Descends to Earth dress exudes a homely and unguarded magnificence.

The deep black Suzhou brocade absorbs the warm candlelight, its color becoming even deeper and more serene, while the woven gold cotton and real gold threads flow with a honey-like warm glow.

The pattern of the giant phoenix on the nightgown, when relaxed and at rest, has lost all its sharpness, like a phoenix resting in a warm nest, peaceful and noble.

One of the wide, bell-shaped sleeves hung softly over the edge of the couch, while Murong Yan used the other to prop up her chin as she idly flipped through a book.

The black jade thumb ring on her left thumb gleamed with a lustrous sheen in the candlelight.

The five-zhang-long Suzhou brocade train stretched out gracefully on the couch, part of it piled up beside her, part of it drooped over the edge of the couch, and a section even slid down to the carpeted floor.

This kind of carefree mess, created by extreme relaxation in a private space, adds a touch of authentic life and intimacy.

The softness of cotton and the comfort of the nightgown reach their peak at this moment.

The palace door opened softly, and Lin Zhen entered.

He had removed his python robe and was now dressed in a moon-white casual outfit, which made him appear even taller, more elegant, and refined.

He carried a bowl of chilled white fungus and lotus seed soup, walked to the bedside, and said softly, "Yan'er, what are you reading? Rest your eyes and have some soup."

Murong Yan looked up when she heard the voice. When she saw it was him, a bright smile immediately bloomed on her face. She casually tossed the book aside and reached out to him like a cat waiting to be fed: "Husband, you've come. The miscellaneous notes I was reading were not interesting. The soup you cook is much better."

Her tone was full of dependence and coquetry.

Lin Zhen sat on the edge of the couch with a smile, scooped up a spoonful with a silver spoon, carefully blew on it, and then brought it to her lips: "Drink slowly, be careful not to let it get cold."

Murong Yan obediently opened her mouth to take it, and squinted her eyes in satisfaction: "Mmm, so sweet, my husband's cooking is the best."

As she spoke, she leaned against Lin Zhen, resting her head on his shoulder and nuzzling him.