In the third month of spring, willow leaves flutter through the air. Even the weather is perfect: neither too hot nor too cold, neither damp nor dry. The birthday of the King of Zhao falls at just such a fine time. Envoys arriving from every direction are happy to be sent to offer their congratulations to the King of Zhao, and just as happy to be sent to find wives for their own princes.
Zhao lies on the edge of a range of mountains. Its beautiful land produces exceptional people, and its women are more delicate and lovely than the last. Yun Xin, the youngest daughter of Chancellor Yun of Zhao, is especially renowned for her breathtaking beauty. Sadly, this beauty has been claimed by Duan Chenxi, the Third Prince of Wei. No one else dares covet her. Wei is, after all, a great power, and no one would dare offend it over a woman.
In teahouses, busybodies discuss it behind closed doors. They say the Third Prince of Wei is a homosexual. He has been of age for years and still has not taken even one concubine. What else could he be? They believe that no man can do without women: there are emotional needs, to say nothing of physical ones. Poor Miss Yun, they say. Once she marries him, she'll be a widow in all but name.
When Yun Xin married, she brought twenty full carts of dowry. After all, the King of Zhao had adopted her as his goddaughter, and she was also a princess sent to cement an alliance, so the wedding had to be grand. Chancellor Yun followed behind the bridal procession, wiping away tears nonstop. His precious daughter was being married off just like that...
