Swallows on the Rafters, Together Year After Year

At three, Li Zishu’s father, the Great General Who Guards the Far East, died on the battlefield. At four, her mother, Princess Taiping, was so grief-stricken by her husband’s death that no medicine could save her, and she followed him into the afterlife. In the vast princess’s residence, only one little girl remained. But she had the protection of her uncle, the emperor, who bestowed on her the title of Lady Bao Hua and doted on her. In Shangjing, she was the person no one dared offend. Zhang Yu was a scholar of exceptional talent. He passed six rounds of the imperial examinations in a row, astounding the court and the public. Before he had even reached thirty, he held a third-rank post and had become a pillar of the court. At thirty-two, Zhang Yu’s marriage was what people criticized him for most. The abbot of Jinguo Temple had once predicted that Zhang Yu must not marry before thirty. At first, the Zhang family ignored him and arranged a match. The very next day, Zhang Yu fell and broke his leg, taking three months to recover. The following year, they arranged another match, and his carriage bolted, breaking his arm. He had to attend court with his arm in a sling. After that, the Zhang family no longer dared to arrange anything recklessly. Everyone knew that Zhang Yu must not marry before thirty, but no one knew the second half of the prophecy: he would never have children. Zhang Yu’s expression remained indifferent. Children? They weren’t all that important. And so the delicate, frail young Lady took a fancy to this childless Minister of Personnel. She begged the emperor to arrange their marriage, intending for them to treat each other with courtesy and spend the rest of their lives together in peace. But after she married Zhang Yu, he taught her to read and told her about family, country, and the world. He took her out to enjoy the scenery instead of letting her remain trapped within four walls. Together, they watched the snow in the northern deserts and the hazy rains of Jiangnan, taking in the beautiful mountains and rivers and the flourishing realm. Zhang Yu still treated her as tenderly as when they had first met. “My lord, over wine at the spring banquet, I wish only to kneel and beg for three blessings once more: First, may you live a thousand years. Second, may I always be in good health. Third, may we be like the swallows beneath the rafters, meeting again year after year.”