Threads 502-Temple 2

The temple of the Bountiful Earth was a vast, verdant pagoda with a massive garden taking up the full breadth of a greater branch of the Heavenly Pillar. It was a riot of color and life, blooming from every tier of the rooftop and all across the sprawling grounds. Unlike most gardens, though, there were few flowers. Instead, there were crops. Every grain known to the empire was here, and every fruit and vegetable represented in rolling fields of green and dense orchards.

The temple’s interior was strangely cozy despite its size. The thick pillars were twined with grapevines.

It was here that the first respects of the bridal pair were made, led by the head of Spiritual Affairs. Incense was burnt, sacred wine was poured, and prayers and blessings were made. Then, the long, slow movement of the procession began again when the altar of fertile black soil bloomed with a riot of healthy golden grain.

This, too, was where the other part of this day came into existence. There was a tidal wave of betrothals and marriage offers being exchanged between the many noble clans of the Emerald Seas on this most fortuitous day.

There were no true surprises as to her offers. The Bao had sent her a missive in the morning indicating they would advance their suite, even knowing of the others that would be made.

She wasn’t the only woman, or even person, who would be receiving multiple offers today. She understood that it was as much about the advertisement of good relations as the actual contracts for many, that this was a vast web of politics and business dealings in which betrothed individuals were only pieces in.

It still felt deeply strange to her.

All the same, she smiled, bowing deeply to the richly dressed representative of the Bao, beaming down at her with his own practiced affect. With glittering jewels woven into his headscarf and shimmering silver cloths swishing on long hanging sleeves, the Bao representative flourished a scroll to present to her.

“It is my pleasure to extend our hand to the rising and ambitious house of Ling on this joyous day,” the tall Bao man pronounced. “The Bao clan is always pleased to see and aid the growth of new ambitions.”

“You honor me greatly, Sir Bao.” Ling Qi bowed low and respectfully, playing up her deference for the many people around, the whispering observers and rumormongers of the court. “To have so small a house as mine receive the notice of a great clan like yours and have my achievements receive your praise.”

“Ah, there is no need to be so humble. You are quite a deal closer, young miss! Be proud of that.” The Bao scion stroked his jewel ringed fingers through his beard. “Why, I know you have closed a few more already.”

He said the last far more quietly and beneath the sound of clinking coins.

Ling Qi straightened, holding the scroll with the official notice close to her chest. “I have. My accomplishments have attracted many eyes.”

“They have, indeed. Were it not for the quality of the three you are to receive, I would imagine you would be fielding a dozen more. Well, to the best negotiator goes the contract, eh?”

What an uncomfortable way to put it, Ling Qi mused, and yet, she understood the good intention. There was no offense from the Bao at her entertaining other options, given the stated quality.

“You’re doing good, Qi. I know this stuff is hard for ya.”

Sixiang’s reassurance did help. Ling Qi bowed her head more shallowly this time. “To the best, Sir Bao.”

Two more to go.

Walking the wedding procession, she and her fellow retainers were still close to the front, gathered among the households close to the Cai but not as close to Cai Renxiang as they were yesterday. Today, her liege walked side by side with her new fiancé at the very forefront of the procession, situated more with the Peaks delegation. It was a show of honor.

The next temple was Xiangmen’s itself. It was where the Heavenly Pillar was communed with. The ceremonies here were shorter and a matter of thanks rather than asking for blessings, as those had already been received when the bridal procession passed through the wards.

It helped her nerves, seeing the numerous nuptials announced. The strongest reactions to any offers, even to people she knew had received multiple prospects, was interest and a bit of rumormongering. There was some murmured sniping she could just barely detect through the various screening techniques, but those seemed more a matter of personal grudges and feelings than anything else.

… She wondered if there had been any others with eyes on Meng Dan.

“Not Xuan Shi?”

She huffed at Sixiang’s tease. That was unkind and not her intention. Xuan Shi wasn’t native here and had hardly made himself known to others.

The next temple in the procession was the House of the Sun. Five pagodas surrounded a central garden, each dedicated to an aspect of the sun. The buildings blazed with color and light. Numerous mirrored surfaces caught the sunlight that fell through the canopy to glow like their patron in miniature. The procession moved through each one in the order of the day.

She was surprised to see Gan Guangli on the receiving end of an offer. Su Ling would have been growling. This offer must have been the ones he couldn’t outright refuse to consider without insulting the other party, considering the offer was from the Jia. This was something she’d have to poke her nose into, for her friend’s sake.

“Is it though? Is it really, though? She’d probably tell you to mind your business.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Not if she didn’t say anything first!

Hmm. That was probably a potential snarl in her cultivation, if she really thought about it. Was it removing choice if she acted without another’s knowledge, but knowing they would object if they knew? She’d not chosen an easy path to walk. She understood why some people preferred to just make themselves into swords and be done with it.

Butterflies were rising in her stomach as the procession neared its next destination. The Cycle of Nights was a far more subdued place, especially with one of its eight shrines, the most colorful and vibrant of them in the past, she assumed, left bare and empty, its entrance boarded up, disallowed to receive all but the most minimal propitiation.

“I still don’t like it,” Sixiang grumbled privately. “You’re throwing our balance outta wack, scoffing at grandmother like that. I mean, I get it. But it’s still not good!”