Zhou Shaojin nodded.
Cheng Chi smiled and said, “First time going out?”
Zhou Shaojin made a sound of acknowledgment.
Cheng Chi asked, “Not seasick?”
“Not seasick.”
After a few exchanges, Zhou Shaojin’s emotions finally settled down.
Cheng Chi said nothing more, simply standing at the bow gazing into the distance.
The wind gently brushed against their faces. She could smell green grass and the faint elegant fragrance of “Thus Have I Heard.”
With such a good opportunity, Zhou Shaojin felt she should say something.
But what should she say?
Her mind raced, yet after a long while she couldn’t find any meaningful topic. She could only say, “At lunch we ate small fish and shrimp caught from the lake. Though the preparation was rough, they were fresh and alive, so the taste was quite good. Did Uncle Chi eat them too? What did you think of the flavor?”
“Not bad.” Cheng Chi’s tone was mild. “On a boat, these are the only things to eat!”
Zhou Shaojin seized the opportunity to ask, “Does Uncle Chi also take a boat when going to Huai’an? Where does the route go? Are there nice views along the way? Can you often eat freshly caught river delicacies on the boat?”
“I take the land route to Huai’an,” Cheng Chi said. “The land route is faster.”
Zhou Shaojin silently clenched her fists and said, “The land route is faster, but not as comfortable as the water route. Why did Uncle Chi choose to take the land route?”
Cheng Chi glanced at her with a smile and said, “This is your first time traveling—how do you know the water route is more comfortable than the land route?”
Zhou Shaojin paused and said, “Isn’t that what everyone says?”
Cheng Chi laughed.
His eyes were bright, his expression relaxed, refined and dignified.
But for some reason, Zhou Shaojin felt something was off, though if you asked her to specifically say what was off, she couldn’t say. She could only suppress her confusion and make conversation, saying, “I heard the nannies say that in another hour we’ll arrive at the He residence. Will the He family make things difficult for us?”
“They won’t,” Cheng Chi said. “When we went to propose marriage that day, everything was basically agreed upon. Now it’s just going through the motions. After we send the betrothal gifts in a few days and set the wedding date, preparations for the wedding will be almost complete.”
Hearing this, Zhou Shaojin couldn’t help but smile.
It was clear Uncle Chi didn’t understand these things either.
She remembered when her elder sister married—aside from having a deep impression of the Liao family coming for the initial betrothal, she had no particular memories of the formal betrothal or date-setting. But after the wedding date was set, both families became very busy. Her aunt traveled between Jinling and Zhenjiang several times, the Liao family frequently sent people… And when getting married, the matchmaker had to wear bright red formal attire to help the groom fetch the bride… Did Uncle Chi know this?
Just thinking about it amused Zhou Shaojin. Her smile spread uncontrollably, and she couldn’t help saying, “On the day Cousin Gao gets married, you and the eldest master of the Gu family have to wear formal attire to fetch the bride. Are you planning to ride a horse or walk there?”
Cheng Chi was somewhat surprised.
Initially, he had only been giving his mother face, and moreover, there was the eldest master of the Gu family, who served as headmaster, accompanying him. He thought he would at most lend his status as a top scholar in both examinations to Cheng Gao. Without thinking much, he had agreed. Who knew being a matchmaker would be such a troublesome thing?
It seemed he should have Huai Shan inquire later about exactly what a matchmaker had to do.
Seeing that Cheng Chi indeed knew nothing, Zhou Shaojin felt inexplicably elated.
She quickly said, “Not only do you have to fetch the bride, but when you arrive at the bride’s home, they’ll close the gate and demand a red envelope. The matchmaker has to accompany the groom in saying nice things to the bride’s family. If the bride’s family wants the groom to compose a couplet or write a poem, the matchmaker has to help the groom with the writing to ensure the groom can smoothly marry the bride…”
Cheng Chi looked at her bright, sparkling eyes and couldn’t help but smile inwardly.
This little girl probably thought he looked very aloof and definitely couldn’t tolerate the lively hustle and bustle of a wedding, right? But she didn’t know that he always kept his promises—once he agreed to something, even if he was unwilling in his heart, he would do his best to accomplish it.
Wasn’t it just fawning over the He family to bring the bride back?
How hard could that be?
He smiled and said, “These are all small matters. It’s a pity I haven’t entered officialdom, otherwise wearing official robes to fetch the bride for Gao would surely attract even more onlookers.” As he spoke, he stroked his chin and said, “However, there are sign boards to carry. I still remember when I returned from the capital, your Uncle Jing made two sign boards for me—one reading ‘Successful Candidate,’ the other reading ‘Twelfth Place, Second Class, Rengchen Year of Zhide 15.’ If I remember correctly, both boards should be in the ancestral hall. During New Year’s, Steward Qin told me they had both boards taken out and repainted, telling me to find a position soon so these boards could be directly used…”
Zhou Shaojin was stunned.
She knew many people who passed the imperial examination would carry such signs when returning to their hometowns to show off, but Uncle Chi shouldn’t be that kind of person!
Zhou Shaojin couldn’t help but carefully observe Cheng Chi.
His eyes were large, the corners slightly upturned, his eyelashes thick and curled. As he thought carefully, his gaze appeared not only profound but also serious, with a kind of earnestness that made people have to believe him.
Zhou Shaojin almost jumped up.
How could this be acceptable?
This was Cousin Gao’s wedding, not Uncle Chi returning to his hometown!
If these two signs were carried out, who would still know this was Cousin Gao’s wedding?
“No, no need!” Zhou Shaojin waved her hands repeatedly.
Cheng Chi looked at Zhou Shaojin with confusion, as if saying “Weren’t you the one who brought this up? Why are you saying it’s not needed now?”
Zhou Shaojin was embarrassed and quickly made an excuse: “I mean it doesn’t need to be so lively. Uncle Chi just needs to wear formal attire and go fetch the bride.”
Cheng Chi said, “That wouldn’t be good, would it? Your grandmother asked me to be Gao’s matchmaker precisely because she valued my status as a top scholar in both examinations, didn’t she?” As he spoke, he pondered and said, “I think we should do this—don’t draw conclusions too early. I’ll first instruct Steward Qin to find both sets of signs, and we’ll decide after you’ve asked your grandmother.”
Zhou Shaojin really couldn’t be sure what her grandmother would say.
In her previous life, when one of Lin Shisheng’s cousins died, her cousin’s husband’s family, wanting to make the burial respectable, had sought out Lin Shisheng and spent five thousand taels of silver to obtain the honorary rank of Loyal and Distinguished Captain.
But Uncle Chi had already said this much—how could she refuse?