Transmigrated to the Northern Song Dynasty as a County Magistrate (GL) - Chapter 6

6: A Wedding Against One’s Will (Part 1)

Her first love had been in college—a relationship that lasted less than a year before ending in betrayal. At the time, the heartbreak had been crushing, but now, the memory barely stirred her.

Yet the thought of her ex-girlfriend still made her chest ache. They had loved each other, yet their story ended in tragedy—largely because of her own cowardice. To say she felt no regret would be a lie. But now, she’d never get the chance to be brave.

Snapping back to reality, Tian Qingyi noticed others already tucking away their yellow imperial decrees and picking up wooden hu tablets. She hurried to follow suit.

She’d assumed the top three scholars—especially the top scholar—would wear red robes. But after scanning the crowd, she found no red anywhere, not even on the trio at the front.

So those three must be the top candidates. Tian Qingyi only recalled the top scholar’s surname—Xu—but nothing about the other two. Not that it mattered; the original host hadn’t known them either.

Led by the top three, the group re-entered the hall to thank the emperor. With that, the ceremony concluded.

In addition to robes and tablets, each scholar was supposed to receive:
– Pale yellow silk (1 bolt),
– Matching sash,
– Green official robe,
– Boots.

Yet no one distributed these items, and no one seemed to care—least of all Tian Qingyi, whose mind was elsewhere.

They’d entered the palace at dawn and emerged in the afternoon. Despite the hours without food, no one looked fatigued. Instead, their faces glowed with triumph.

They’d arrived as commoners and left as officials. Their lives—their very social strata—had transformed overnight.

Only Tian Qingyi remained detached, her expression distant. For her, today wasn’t just about the ceremony—it was her wedding day, chosen by Jiufang Xin as an “auspicious date.”

Day 1 of transmigration: unlucky. Day 2: becoming a puppet in a forced marriage—even unluckier.

—

The Procession

Outside the palace gates, the new scholars mounted horses or carriages for the traditional parade—starting at Donghua Gate and winding through major streets to Taiping Xingguo Temple.

Tian Qingyi hadn’t expected the Song Dynasty’s version of a victory lap to be so… modest. Scholars provided their own transport, and everyone participated, not just the top scorers.

Donghua Gate, already the busiest district in the capital, was now packed with spectators. Men, women, and children had gathered since dawn, eager to glimpse the newly minted officials in green robes—symbols of scholarly prestige every Song family dreamed of producing.

When Wei Shier and her entourage found her, twenty additional guards materialized, forming a protective circle.

Why the escort?

Then she saw them: wealthy families sending servants to “capture” scholars as sons-in-law.

So this is the infamous “groom-catching” custom.

The crowd’s frenzy rivaled modern fan culture. People shoved and cheered, their faces alight with excitement. The top scholar basked in the spotlight, while others preened like peacocks.

Only Tian Qingyi felt like a zoo exhibit.

—

The Temple Gathering

At Taiping Xingguo Temple, the crowd thinned. The scholars filed into a temporary “Qiji Hall”—a space reserved by the emperor for post-exam celebrations.

The top scholar gave a speech. Tian Qingyi finally got a clear look at him: a plain-faced middle-aged man, far from the dashing scholar-hero of her imagination.

She tuned out his words entirely.

When the event ended, she tried to linger but was swept along by the exiting crowd. Outside, Wei Shier located her immediately, and they rushed back to Jiufang Manor—even faster than their morning dash to the palace.

Wei Shier noted her grim expression and assumed it was about the merchant’s daughter she was being forced to wed.

If only that were the only problem.

—

Return to Jiufang Manor

The manor’s gates blazed with red lanterns and silk. Liu Yuanshan, the steward (called “neizhi” in noble households), greeted her with a clasped-hand bow:

“The auspicious hour approaches. Second Young Master, please change into your wedding attire.”

She dismounted reluctantly. Inside, the compound buzzed with guests. Every servant wore red sashes; the central hall glowed crimson.

Whispers trailed her:

“This marriage is beneath him.”
“A merchant’s daughter? What luck for the Jiufang family!”

Tian Qingyi scoffed internally. The “disdain for merchants” was just the original host’s excuse to avoid the wedding. Who’s the unlucky one here?

—

The Wedding Attire

Back at Yuzhu Residence, she took in the courtyard properly for the first time: potted plants, two giant vats, osmanthus trees draped in red—even the bamboo grove behind the house had been decorated.

Qingyu helped her into the wedding robes. Contrary to expectations, the outfit was unembroidered, just a different color from her official green robes. The hat, however, was adorned with fabric flowers so lifelike she initially mistook them for real blooms.

The craftsmanship…

According to the original host’s memories, this ensemble had been part of the Yun family’s dowry. Three generations of merchants had amassed staggering wealth—their fabrics were top-tier, even if their social status wasn’t.

The design eerily resembled the matching hanfu clothing she and her ex had worn when they first met.

Salt in the wound.

—

The Bride’s Perspective

Meanwhile, at the Yun family ancestral hall, Yun Jingchu knelt in her phoenix crown and emerald robes, reciting the bridal prayer under the watchful eye of Aunt Wu:

“Today I wed, not of my will.
Through seasons and years, incense burns still.
I beg the Gods, grant me your grace,
That this pair may find their place.
Joy and celebration, man and wife,
No strife or sorrow through this life.
Sweet as honey, close as fish to stream,
A hundred years, a shared dream.”

Her voice was steady, her face serene. Inside, she was seething.

As soon as the rites ended, Aunt Wu herded her back to her room like a prisoner. Her maid, Baoqin, fumed silently.

When distant cheers signaled the groom’s procession’s arrival, Baoqin brightened. “The Jiufang family is here!”

Yun Jingchu’s face darkened further. She looked less like a bride and more like a condemned prisoner.

—

The Groom’s Duty

Back at Jiufang Manor, Tian Qingyi was prodded outside to greet the incoming procession.

Fan Zhuzhu beamed. “The bridal party left hours ago—they’ll be here any moment!”

Music swelled as the procession rounded the corner: a river of red, led by two purple-clad official matchmakers.

Tian Qingyi’s stomach twisted. This is really happening.