Chapter 470: Li Nuanqing Leaves the Hall

The morning light of May first poured like a spoonful of warm honey, slowly drizzling over the gray tiles of the Houhai Siheyuan.

The big red Double Happiness Character had been affixed under the courtyard gate two days ago, and now it fluttered gently in the morning breeze, dazzlingly bright.

It wasn't fresh ink that hadn't dried, but the subdued red that had soaked in overnight dew and merged with the vermilion door, as if the door was always meant to bear such a character.

Li Ping'an rose early, or rather, he hardly slept at all.

Now he stood hands behind his back beneath the Old Locust Tree, watching clusters of locust blossoms hang like white necklaces in the morning light. The fragrance was sweeter than yesterday's, a sugary scent that made his heart feel astringent.

"Father, you're spacing out here again."

Li Yaozong came over carrying a bowl of soy milk, unusually dressed in a brand‑new Zhongshan suit, and said, "Mother asked me to give you something to eat; you'll be busy later."

Li Ping'an took the bowl; the soy milk was still steaming hot, white vapor curling up and blurring his sight.

"Where's your sister?"

"She's getting ready inside," Li Yaozong said, nodding toward the west wing, "Xiao Zhen and Mother are helping in there. That girl Anning is also there, chattering like sparrows holding a meeting."

As he spoke, the west wing door creaked open.

When Li Nuanqing stepped out, the courtyard seemed to flash with light.

She wasn't wearing a Western wedding dress—as she had said, she disliked the idea of looking like she was under a mosquito net—but a full‑red Chinese bridal gown of silk brocade, its collar and cuffs edged with gold, embroidered with twin lotus motifs in fine stitch that glowed softly in the morning light.

Her hair was coiled into a bun, adorned with a Companion Wedding Hairpin that Lin Xueqing had received years ago—a white jade piece carved into the shape of a magnolia.

A light veil of powder brushed her face; her brows and eyes were the same, yet now carried a few extra touches of the delicate brilliance and solemnity that a new bride possesses.

Li Ping'an gave the soy‑milk bowl a slight shake.

"Father…" Nuanqing said as she stepped before him, her voice trembling.

Li Ping'an opened his mouth to say something, but his throat felt blocked. He could only nod, hand the soy‑milk bowl to his son, reach out, and straighten his daughter's hairpin.

His hand trembled a little.

"Beautiful," he finally managed to squeeze out, dry and blunt.

Nuanqing's eyes were rimmed red, yet she forced a smile, "Mother said this bridal gown was commissioned through Shen Bo Bo and took three months to embroider."

"Hmm, beautiful," Li Ping'an could only repeat those two words.

Lin Xueqing emerged from the house, her eyes also red, but a smile on her face: "Alright, alright, stop getting sentimental here. Uncle will be here soon to fetch us; let's follow the custom—where's Yaoyang? Where did that boy run off to?"

As soon as the words finished, Li Yaoyang burst in from the doorway, dressed in a crisp military uniform—the student uniform of the Harbin Institute of Technology's military program, making the young man look especially vigorous.

"Here I am! Mom, I checked the door latch thoroughly; it's solid!"

He rubbed his hands, excitement on his face, "Sis, don't worry; today I'll block the brother‑in‑law at the door. Without real skill, he won't get in!"

Nuanqing could only laugh and cry, "Don't go overboard."

"This isn't messing around; it's a custom!" Li Yaoyang said, snapping his neck, "Northern Wedding Custom—little brother‑in‑law blocks the door, it's a matter of principle!"

At nine a. m., engine sounds came from Hu Tong Kou.

It wasn't one but three vehicles—the first a brand‑new black Wanshang sedan, its streamlined body glinting modestly in the sun. Two Wanshang vans followed.

The car came to a halt, and Su Jingming got out.

He, too, wore a Chinese formal robe, a dark‑red changshan that gave his slender face a scholarly handsomeness.

Behind him trailed seven or eight young people, all colleagues from Xiehe Hospital, each energetic, carrying Wedding Candy, red envelopes, and various "gate‑passing" items wrapped in red cloth.

The Alley already gathered some onlookers; children ran back and forth, shouting, "New uncle's here!"

Su Jingming inhaled deeply and walked to the courtyard gate.

The gate was closed.

From the crack came Li Yaoyang's deliberately deep voice, "Who's outside the gate?"

Laughter rang both inside and outside the courtyard.

Su Jingming also laughed, cleared his throat, "I am Su Jingming, attending cardiothoracic surgeon at Beijing Xiehe Hospital, here to marry the esteemed Miss Li Nuanqing of your family!"

"Do you have proof?"

"Yes!" Su Jingming pulled a red‑covered certificate from his coat— not a marriage license, but the award he received last year as "Beijing Youth Job Skill Expert," and slipped it through the crack.

The gate stayed silent for a few seconds.

Then Li Yaoyang's voice rang again, "Literary test passed! What about Martial Strategy? My sister said we need to test your professional skill—Acute Cardiac Tamponade, how would you handle it?"

The moment he said that, even the onlookers laughed—the gate‑blocking quiz, truly fitting for a family of doctors.

Su Jingming, unhurried, began reciting the protocol at the doorway: "First, immediate pericardial tap to relieve pressure; second, prepare for emergency thoracotomy; third, establish intravenous access, administer fluids to counter shock…"

The reasoning was clear, his pace steady.

The gate swung open with a "whoosh," and Li Yaoyang stuck out half his head, grinning, "Alright, brother‑in‑law, solid fundamentals. But—"

He reached out, "Hand over the red envelope! Can't be missing!"

In the courtyard, Li Ping'an peered through a window crack at the bustle outside, a smile tugging at his mouth.

Lin Xueqing stood beside him, whispering, "Yaoyang that kid really knows how to act."

"Let him make a fuss," Li Ping'an said, unusually unstern, "Only once in a lifetime."

Outside, red envelopes were passed around several times, and Wedding Candy was distributed in several bags; Li Yaoyang finally "reluctantly" let them through. Su Jingming led his party into the courtyard, and at first glance saw Li Nuanqing standing under the main house's porch.

Their gazes met.

All the surrounding clamor seemed to pause for a heartbeat.

Su Jingming stepped forward, bowing deeply, "Nuanqing, I've come to fetch you."

There were no grand vows, just these plain six words.

Nuanqing's eyes reddened again, and she nodded forcefully.

According to custom, the newlyweds must serve tea to their parents.

Li Ping'an and Lin Xueqing sat on the grandmaster chairs in the main house. Nuanqing and Su Jingming knelt on the red mat prepared earlier, receiving covered‑bowl tea from the attendant's hands.

"Father, please have some tea," Nuanqing said, cupping the tea with both hands, her voice trembling.

Li Ping'an took it, sipped. The tea was premium Longjing Tea Tea, yet he could not discern any flavor, only felt his throat tighten.

"Mom, please have some tea," Su Jingming also offered a cup.

Lin Xueqing took it, drank a sip, set down the cup, and instructed, "Jingming, Nuanqing, from now on you are family. Support each other and live well."

"Ah," the two replied in unison.

Li Ping'an looked at his daughter and son‑in‑law kneeling before him, was silent for a few seconds, then slowly said, "Nuanqing, now that you're at your husband's home, be filial to your parents‑in‑law, keep good relations with the neighbors. Jingming, I entrust my daughter to you."

Su Jingming solemnly bowed his head, "Dad, rest assured."

The Bride went out, and by custom her feet could not touch the ground.

Su Jingming bent down and lifted Nuanqing onto his back.

It was light—this was his first time carrying her. He realized that the female doctor who stood at the operating table daily and could work for over ten hours straight was so frail.

Nuanqing lay on his back, arms around his neck, her red cap hanging down, gently brushing his earlobe.

"Is it heavy?" she asked softly.

"Not heavy," Su Jingming stepped forward, walking steadily, "Never heavy for a lifetime."

The firecrackers sounded again.

Red paper scraps fluttered in the morning light, like a grand blessing.

Two Wanshang limousines slowly led the way, a bicycle troupe followed, and the sounds of bells, laughter, and firecrackers mingled, lively enough to disperse Houhai's morning mist.

Li Ping'an stood at the doorway, watching the procession turn the Hu Tong Kou and vanish.

The weight that had long hung in his heart finally settled.

The wedding was held at the Su family—by old custom, the ceremony must be at the groom's house.

The Su parents sold their old home, bought a two‑bedroom apartment near the third ring of Beijing, modest but tidily arranged. A huge red character for happiness adorned the living‑room wall, and the table displayed peanuts, red dates, longans, lotus seeds—wishing for a noble offspring.

A simple ceremony.

First, a bow to Heaven and Earth; second, a bow to the elders; then the couple bow to each other.

Nuanqing and Su Jingming knelt on the red mat, bowing to both sets of parents. Upon standing, their hands naturally intertwined, ten fingers tightly clasped.

Li Ping'an watched and suddenly recalled his wedding to Xueqing over thirty years ago. It was held in Siheyuan No. 95. There were no limousines, no firecrackers, only a bag of fruit candies bought collectively by a few workers. The two bowed three times before the Chairman Statue, and the ceremony was complete.

Those were such poor times.

Yet the heart was full.

The banquet was set at Tan Family's Lao Wei restaurant.

Sha Zhu led his apprentices, bustling in the back kitchen. A big iron pot simmered Red Braised Pork, its aroma filling the Alley.

Ma Dongmei helped Lin Xueqing set the tables—Eight Immortals Table, eight people per table, three tables in total.

Li Ping'an's family, Chen Jianghe's family, Sha Zhu's family, plus the Su parents and a few close relatives.

Simple and genuine.

"Come, come, the first cup!" Chen Jianghe stood, raised his glass, "May Nuanqing and Jingming grow old together and be forever united!"

Everyone clinked glasses.

The clear baijiu swirled in the porcelain cup, reflecting the courtyard's red.

Li Ping'an drank it in one gulp.

Spicy, burning from his throat down to his stomach, yet it felt exhilarating.

The banquet began.

Cups were passed, laughter rang. He Yuzhu's dishes received unanimous praise,

The newlyweds offered toasts.

Nuanqing had already changed into a dark‑red everyday outfit, convenient for movement. Jingming stayed by her side, picking food for her.

"Dad." Nuanqing saw him and quickly stood.

"Sit, sit." Li Ping'an gestured, looking at his daughter, "Eat more, you're tired today."

"Not tired." Nuanqing smiled, "It's just this outfit, feels restrictive."

Li Ping'an also laughed, reaching to pat his daughter's head, his hand rising halfway before dropping.

His daughter is married now; she can't be like she was in childhood.

"Jingming." He turned to his son‑in‑law, his expression solemn, "Nuanqing… I entrust her to you."

Su Jingming stood, likewise solemnly nodded, "Dad, rest assured."

Li Ping'an stared at him for a few seconds, then suddenly reached out and gave his shoulder a firm pat.

That pat contained a thousand words.

The banquet didn't disperse until two p. m.

Guests gradually took their leave, the place slowly quieted. Only red paper scraps covered the ground, and the lingering scent of wine and food hung in the air.

Nuanqing and Jingming also had to leave.

"Dad, Mom, we're leaving," Nuanqing and Su Jingming said together as they took their leave.

Lin Xueqing stepped forward, straightened her daughter's collar, "Come back often for meals."

"Mm." Nuanqing hugged her mother, then looked at her father.

Li Ping'an, hands behind his back, nodded, "Go ahead."

No extra words.

Nuanqing walked, turning her head back three times with each step. Jingming followed beside her, quietly gripping her hand.

Their silhouettes vanished at the crossroads.

Li Ping'an and Lin Xueqing also returned to the Siheyuan.

The courtyard was completely empty.

Li Ping'an still stood under the locust tree, looking up at the flowers. The wind blew, and a flurry of blossoms fell, drenching him from head to toe.

Lin Xueqing walked over and stood beside him.

The two said nothing.

After a while, Lin Xueqing whispered, "I remember when she was just born, so tiny, cradled in my arms for fear she'd melt. In the blink of an eye, she's already married."

Li Ping'an gave no reply, only reaching out to catch a drifting locust blossom.

Small and white, it lay in his palm like a droplet of solidified tear.

"Let's go," he finally said, "into the house."

The two turned and walked toward the main house.

The setting sun stretched their shadows long, casting them on the blue‑brick floor, swaying gently.

In the courtyard, the locust blossoms still scented the air.

The fragrance was dense and lingering, as if it would linger until the end of time.

And on the afternoon of Labor Day 1990, it was etched into the growth rings of the Old Locust Tree in Houhai, etched into a father's silent heart.

Marrying off a daughter.

Both sweet and sweet, both bitter and bitter, sour and astringent, like chewing an unripe green plum, yet also like drinking a cup of aged old wine.

Above all, may it endure.