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Beautiful and clever Yan Qiu Yue is the treasured only daughter of Duke Ning’s household. Her family could not bear to part with her, so she has reached the ripe old age of 17 without even once hearing the word “marriage.” The scheming emperor, uncaring of the Yan family’s bonds, decrees her betrothal to the only son of Prince Rui of the First Rank. This son is known across Eastern Wei for being a callous wastrel-in-training, but before Qiu Yue has time to mourn her lack of luck, shocking news reaches the capital: Prince Rui’s real heir was switched at birth and has since grown up in the Northern Xi territory! His return to the capital is met with much fanfare and curiosity. To show some goodwill to this supposedly long-suffering Wei Tian Ao, the emperor allows a new interpretation of his betrothal decree so that he, the legitimate son of Prince Rui, may marry the noble Yan Qiu Yue! But why does Qiu Yue's new husband seem rather unhappy with this whole arrangement? The weeks after their wedding go by without her seeing even Wei Tian Ao's shadow. Might this turn out even worse for her than if she’d married that wastrel…? “I trust no one in this city of schemers and murderers, least of all a wife whose character and family are unknown to me!” “You are surprisingly eloquent for a northern barbarian, my lord.” “If I never see you, I don't have to acknowledge that you exist…” “Go ahead and hide if you dare! Even without you, I am still a noble princess heir apparent.” (Updates at least 2-3 times a week.) ** The cover art was commissioned from artist Huixci just for TWG and features Yan Qiu Yue and Wei Hong Sheng. **
How regretful, in this human world:
what kind of thing is this so-called love
that makes people abide by it, dead or alive?
North and south between heaven and earth, the couple in flight:
how many cold and hot seasons have they flapped their old wings together through?
The taste of joy
and the misery of separation:
inside all are some crazy young men and women.
You should have something to say:
across layers of clouds that spread thousands of miles,
against the view of the hundreds of mountains at dusk,
a lonely shadow there: to whom are you going?
On a road that stands across the Fen River,
How dreary-sounding was the playing of flutes and drums back then!
Across the plains, there still stands the smoky mist in the wilderness.
Whose soul shall we summon in the Southland?
The Mountain Spirit cries to itself in wind and rain.
Even Heaven is jealous,
it's hard to believe that they have
turned into yellow soil along with orioles and swallows.
Rather they'll last for tens of thousands of ages,
waiting for poets
who sing wildly and drink like crazy
to come to visit this place, the Wild Goose Hillock.
-- "Song of the Wild Goose Hillock by Yuan Haowen", translated by Luo Yuming
