Chapter 3: The Forgotten Betrothal

“Zhi’er, practice diligently! Listen carefully to what Elder Liu says!”

At the break of dawn, before the sky had fully brightened, Aunt Zhang carried out a wooden basin to wash clothes. Whether it was because Uncle had finally returned home after a long absence or some joyous occasion had occurred, her face was flushed with happiness, and her voice could be heard well outside the courtyard.

“The lance on horseback is the foremost weapon of the military, the vanguard in battle. As the ancients said, it can sweep through armies and pierce through generals. When combined with horse and rider, its momentum is unstoppable…”

Elder Liu, long accustomed to Zhang’s loud voice, kept his gaze on the training child, Fu Zhi, with a hint of regret in his heart. Unlike his father, Fu Zhi was honest and sincere. Had he started martial training in his youth, he might have had a promising future. But being five years older than Fu Zihou, he had missed the best age for learning martial arts.

“Though we have no warhorses, the stance and footwork of the lance share much in common with riding…”

Elder Liu continued his lesson. Fu Zihou listened closely, gripping his long staff, swinging it repeatedly.

In the first year, following Elder Liu’s instructions, Fu Zihou practiced the four fundamental movements—swing, thrust, lift, and chop—day after day, building his foundation. In the second year, Elder Liu required him to link these moves together, not only with fluidity but also through countless variations and repetitions. Now, in the third year, Elder Liu would suddenly intercept his attacks, demanding Fu Zihou to react instantly with a counterattack, without a hint of hesitation.

Martial skill—be it swordsmanship, the longbow, or the cavalry lance—was the heritage of the Central Plains, forged in the carnage of battle and passed down through generations. It was refined by countless people who devoted themselves tirelessly, and it had become the very foundation of survival for many. Such deadly arts, so closely tied to life and death, were nothing like the flashy, shallow moves of the common folk—they were born for killing.

By noon, a lone figure appeared outside the courtyard, a middle-aged man saying farewell to others before entering the small compound.

“Father!”

Seeing him, Fu Zihou sheathed his sword, slightly breathless, and wiped the sweat from his brow. Beside him, Fu Zhi, overjoyed at his uncle’s return, followed his cousin to greet him.

“Hou’er!”

Fu Rui, regardless of his own sweat and odor, broke into a smile at the sight of his son. For a father, nothing is more satisfying than having a sensible child.

“Zhi’er, here you are!”

Noticing Fu Zhi’s expectant look, Fu Rui happily produced a small hairpin from his sleeve and handed it over.

“Thank you, Uncle!”

Fu Zhi accepted the hairpin with gratitude and rushed into the house.

At this moment, Tao-shi, having heard the commotion inside, came out to greet her husband. She hurried forward to take the bundle from his hands, gently dusting off the grime from his clothes.

“I heard there was trouble in the neighboring village last night—a violent uprising, many dead—so I didn't return.”

Fu Rui explained to Tao-shi, knowing she must have had a restless night because of his absence.

“It’s getting more and more chaotic out there,” Tao-shi said worriedly, gazing at her husband. If the whole family didn’t rely on his hard work, she truly wished he didn’t have to leave home alone anymore.

“That’s right! The officials have grain, but as prices rise, they’re less willing to sell. All of it comes from their corruption. In the past, disaster relief was slow and dragged out; the more people died, the more grain they could secretly hoard. Now, many in the city are pawning their family heirlooms for food, but the officials still refuse to release their stores.”

Fu Rui nodded, chatting idly with his wife about affairs in the city, before turning to Fu Zihou. His frown eased as he retrieved a long bundle from beside his baggage.

“No matter what, as long as you are safe, that’s all that matters. Your elder brother has returned—he has urgent business with you,” Tao-shi said to her husband.

Fu Rui was a little surprised at this, especially seeing his wife’s expression. Yet before going to the house, he unwrapped the bundle and took out a beautifully crafted sword, handing it to Fu Zihou.

“Hou’er, on my travels I saw someone selling this fine sword for money, so I brought it back for you.”

Because of his two elder daughters, Fu Rui cherished his only son even more. Years of hard work had taken a toll on his body, and he had no more children. With both daughters married, Fu Rui, now a merchant, felt deep guilt for the hardships his son endured due to their social standing. To make up for it, he gave his son whatever he could, without reservation.

“A sword?”

Fu Zihou accepted the sword. Initially worried about his father’s spending, the moment he drew the blade and saw the intricate patterns along its length, all he could utter was—

“I love it! Thank you, Father!”

For a man, when life’s basic needs are met, there are only three things that hold true allure: beauty, swords, and horses. Fu Zihou was no exception. Gazing at the sword in his hand, he could not help but show his awe. Gently running his fingers along the blade, he wondered what skill and fire must have gone into forging such a weapon.

“I’ll go see your uncle,” Fu Rui said, smiling at his son’s delight. Satisfied, he nodded to his wife and son before heading into the wooden house.

In the courtyard, Fu Zihou, not wishing to face his uncle, and thrilled with his new sword, remained behind to practice, testing its weight and feel. But before long, sounds of an argument drifted out from the house. It was the first time he had ever heard his father so angry, even quarreling with his uncle. Worried, Fu Zihou stopped, sheathed his sword, and went to the house.

As he opened the door, even before entering, he saw his father’s face red with anger, staring at his uncle. The prideful uncle and his sharp-tongued wife actually seemed abashed, while his cousin Fu Zhi’s face bore the fresh mark of a slap.

Fu Zihou was astonished by this scene. What could have happened to leave his uncle and aunt so flustered and his cousin seemingly punished?

“Hou’er is here too. Let him decide,” the old patriarch sighed at Fu Zihou’s arrival.

“Father, if my brother needs money, I am willing to give, but as for Hou’er’s marriage, I cannot agree!” Fu Rui spoke to his father, voice trembling with barely suppressed anger. Tao-shi’s eyes were red as she glared at her in-laws and the old patriarch.

“Father, what happened?” Fu Zihou asked, hearing it involved him and a marriage, his curiosity piqued. He guessed that he was the cause of his father’s rare fury.

“Daughter-in-law, go keep watch outside,” the old patriarch instructed Fu Zhi’s wife, Tai-shi, to ensure no outsiders overheard.

Tai-shi, still holding her new hairpin, nodded, asked her husband not to let his father and uncle quarrel, and left the room.

Inside, with Fu Zihou present, the old patriarch had his younger son sit and calmly recounted the matter.

It turned out that before the Fu family’s decline, Fu Zihou’s great-grandfather had arranged a marriage alliance with the Li family, hoping to strengthen ties, just as with Fu Zhi and Tai-shi’s match. But after the Fu family’s fortunes fell, the Li family, embarrassed to break the engagement outright, effectively did so by substituting the fourth daughter meant for Fu Zihou with their sixth daughter, who was born with a defect.

“A defect?” Fu Zihou frowned as he listened, glancing in confusion at his mother and father—why had they never spoken of this engagement?

“That sixth daughter of the Li family is mute. When we learned of this, we severed ties with the Lis,” Tao-shi explained through tears, her gaze full of resentment toward her brother-in-law.

“My husband and I had hoped your uncle would look after Hou’er, not disgrace him by marrying him off to a defective bride!” Tao-shi’s voice was sharp, her anger plain to see.

“So that’s how it is,” Fu Zihou thought, understanding now his family’s anger toward the Lis. It was not unusual, especially in those times, when superstition ran deep. Even the Emperor Yang of Sui executed the descendants of Li Mu, a founding hero, over a prophecy.

Buddhist beliefs of the era also held that those born with defects were unlucky, making people avoid them.

Fu Zihou was not superstitious, but he certainly didn’t wish for a wife with a defect. He looked curiously at his grandfather.

“Grandfather, if we severed ties, why bring up the engagement again?” he asked.

As soon as he spoke, he noticed everyone—parents and grandfather—looking at his uncle. The old patriarch sighed: “Hou’er has always been sensible. He should know.”

With his grandfather’s approval, and before his mother could speak, Aunt Zhang took the lead as the elder and explained her husband’s plan.

It turned out that Uncle Fu Hong intended to take all the family’s assets and join Wei Qilin in rebellion. Wei Qilin, a native of Pengcheng, was not far from Huaiyang. Fearing that the local governor, Zhao Tuo, would not spare their family if the uprising failed, his uncle wanted the family to flee north to Tiao County and seek refuge with the Li family.

The Lis, with Li Shaozhi as assistant official of Wuyang Commandery and other brothers with connections throughout Hebei, could offer protection. The region was chaotic, imperial authority weak, and in Tiao County, the Li family’s influence could shield the Fus.

After Zhang finished, the room fell silent. Not only the old patriarch but even cousin Fu Zhi dared not look at Fu Zihou, feeling their father’s plan was wrong. Even Elder Liu, who owed his life to Fu Rui and had never been treated as an outsider, sighed deeply.

Uncle Fu Hong had taken Fu Rui’s money for years, traveling and making connections; who knew if another opportunity like this would ever come again? Elder Liu, understanding both brothers’ positions, ultimately supported the plan. But he also knew that for the family to survive, they had to seek refuge with the Lis—at a great cost to Fu Zihou.

Even as an old man, Elder Liu could barely bear to see it.

The room was heavy with silence, broken after several breaths.

“Li family, Li Shaozhi? Mother, who are they?” Fu Zihou asked, searching his memory for the name but coming up blank, so he turned to his mother for details about the sixth daughter and the Li family.

“The sixth daughter is named Li Cha. She was born mute. Her father, Li Liyan, is the second son of Li Gang, former Vice Minister of the Imperial Secretariat. Years ago, Li Gang nearly died in Hainan and resigned upon his return. The Li family, though fallen, remains a noble house. Li Liyan’s late wife was of the esteemed Gao clan of Bohai, daughter of Gao Shining. Though they too have declined, there were later marriages…”

Tao-shi had not finished before Aunt Zhang jumped in, eager to persuade Fu Zihou to accept the marriage for the family’s sake. Her words angered Tao-shi.

Even Fu Zhi frowned, tugging at his mother’s sleeve to show his disapproval.

But as Aunt Zhang glared at his cousin, Fu Zihou froze in place. Unlike the rest of the family, he clearly understood that, though the Fus had declined, if this was indeed the same Li family Aunt Zhang described, then in a year or two, they would rise to be people of immense importance.

Li Lao of the Li family would be revered as the tutor of princes in three successive dynasties. Though Yang Yong, Li Jiancheng, and Li Chengqian would each fail to claim the throne, Li Lao would be respected by three emperors—Yang Jian, Li Yuan, and Li Shimin.

To think the Fu family had an engagement with the Lis!

Fu Zihou was utterly astonished. Watching Aunt Zhang scold his cousin, and seeing his cousin beg for leniency, Fu Zihou could not help but laugh.

So what if she cannot speak? A real man knows when to bend and when to stand tall—he would marry her!

Decision made, Fu Zihou turned to his parents, who still looked troubled and guilty, raised his hand, and spoke earnestly:

“Father, Mother, since there is an engagement between the Li and Fu families, I am willing to marry the sixth daughter of the Li family!”

With that, he knelt and bowed sincerely to his parents.

The room fell into stunned silence. The family, expecting Fu Zihou to refuse or grow angry, were shocked by his response.

At that moment, not just his parents, but even Aunt Zhang, Uncle Fu Hong, the old patriarch, and Elder Liu stared at Fu Zihou in disbelief.

Cousin Fu Zhi, too, was dumbfounded. Marrying a woman with a defect was considered terribly inauspicious. He had even been slapped for speaking up for Fu Zihou, warning his mother not to scheme against his cousin.

Yet Fu Zihou was willing to accept!

Fu Zhi could not understand why his cousin would agree to marry the mute sixth daughter of the Li family.