The Sect Leader's New Daughter Has Her Hands on My Hips novel · Chapter 23 of 24

Chapter 23: The Sword Wedding

They were married at dawn, on the gravel shore under the willows, with the river for a witness.

Meiqing had sewn all night.

She had made two robes out of the commander's spare red cloth, plain and quick and bright.

The whole post stood on the bank, forty soldiers in their grey coats, with the cooks at the back and the commander in front.

Nobody had been invited.

Everybody had come.

Wanning wore red.

Her short hair was combed flat, and her sleeves were tied back with a red cord.

She looked as if she meant to fight someone.

Her hands were shaking.

Yuxi wore red as well, with the white jade pin in her tail of black hair.

She had never been so afraid, and so sure.

They stood on the stones facing each other.

The sun came over the water and set the whole river on fire.

"We don't have a priest," Wanning said, low. "We don't have a hall. We don't have any elders."

"We have a mother."

"And forty soldiers."

"And a river."

Meiqing, at the front, pressed her shawl to her mouth.

Wanning drew her iron sword.

She held it flat across both palms, wrapped in its red cord, plain as a stick, and offered it.

"Everything I own," she said. "It was my father's. It has never been out of my hand."

"Yuxi. I give you my sword."

Yuxi took it, and her hands trembled.

Then she drew her own, the long bright blade of the Qingming heir, with its white jade pommel, and held it out.

"I was given this at six," she said. "I never chose it."

"Wanning. I choose you. Take my sword."

Wanning took it.

She looked at the blade, then up, and her crooked grin was wet.

"We just traded."

"Yes."

"Now I have to keep yours sharp."

"And I yours."

"That's the vow?"

"That's the vow."

Wanning slung the white sword across her back.

Yuxi slung the iron one across hers.

The soldiers on the bank let out a single huge cheer.

It shook the willows.

The commander cleared his throat, and gestured, and a clumsy old cook began to beat a pot with a ladle.

Wanning took Yuxi's face in both hands.

"Wife," she said.

"Wife."

"I love you."

"I love you."

The kiss was long and public and brazen, and the soldiers whooped.

By nightfall the post had finished three jars of rice wine, and Meiqing had been carried to bed by two cooks, glowing.

Nobody noticed the new wives slip away.

The white room at the end of the row was dark, and quiet, and smelled of orange peel.

Wanning shut the door and shot the bolt.

They stood looking at each other in their red robes, by the light of a single candle.

"Wife," Wanning said again, as if tasting it.

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