Time slipped away like sand through fingers, and before they knew it months had passed. Lady Lin He's coming-of-age ceremony occurred last month while her birthday in April was swiftly followed by a wedding date set for the sixth day of the fifth lunar month - supposedly the most auspicious day of the year. Though Master and Madam Lin were content with their daughter's pre-arranged marriage after she came of age, they made no objections to the Wens' chosen nuptial day.

Madam Huang could hardly bear parting from her beloved daughter, wishing to keep Lin He at home a little longer. But given Wen family's impatience, she reluctantly yielded. Since New Year's Day, Madam Huang had been meticulously assembling dowries - lavish jewelry and precious heirlooms for the grand sedan chairs, along with bolts of fine silk and delicate ornaments. Had Lin He not protested, her mother would have arranged twenty-four sedan chairs worth, but the bride insisted on adhering to their original agreement of twelve.

The sheer volume overwhelmed everything in Lin He's courtyard where dowries were stored - embroidered cushions stacked against lacquered chests, gilded vases balanced precariously next to carved mirrors. The space was so crowded one could barely find a seat without disturbing valuable goods.

With just days until the wedding, the household buzzed ceaselessly day and night. Relatives worked in shifts between the village and town, their hurried footsteps creating an endless rhythm of activity. Two separate feasts were being planned - Wen family's ceremony required only Lin He's immediate kin at their estate while her hometown celebration would welcome villagers to share the joy. And then came the third-day homecoming feast when young newlyweds traditionally returned after three days of marital bliss.

On the day before marriage, attendants Zi Yu and Zi Qing helped clear wedding paraphernalia in the courtyard. In Lin He's chamber, she sat with her brothers Da Xiao and Er Xiao playing nearby, watching familiar objects that had defined her world. Her vision blurred as tears spilled over at the thought of leaving this home for an unfamiliar life.

She tried to suppress sobs but couldn't contain them any longer. When Madam Huang entered with Chen Er to check on wedding preparations, she found Lin He weeping uncontrollably in a chair. The mother-in-law had been shedding tears daily since her daughter came of age, and now the sight of Lin He's despair rekindled her grief.

"You shouldn't be crying," Chen Er interjected, his lip trembling as he tried to console both women. "Father said weeping before marriage is bad luck! Don't you want Sister to live happily with Xuan Brother? If you keep crying like this, Father will scold us!"

Madam Huang hastily wiped her eyes. "He He, Chen Er is right - no tears for our daughter's auspicious day!" she said through a shaky breath. "Your brothers and sisters will manage the household now. I'll ensure your medicine shop thrives even without you. Whenever there are important matters, your eldest brother will inform you immediately."

Chen Er burst into fresh sobs at his sister's words. The sound triggered another wave of tears from both mother and daughter, with Da Xiao and Er Xiao soon joining in a chorus of wails until Er Niu and Da Bao finally intervened to restore order.

That night brought even more chaos. Wen family customs demanded the bride remain awake past midnight for ceremonial hair combing, sit upright rather than lie down to avoid bad omens, and abstain from food before entering the marital chamber.

"These are absurd rules," Lin He thought bitterly as she stared at servants snacking noisily nearby while she starved. With her mother-in-law's grandmother looming over with a string in hand - one end around her neck, the other pulled taut like a makeshift hair-cutting tool - the poor bride braced herself for another excruciating ritual.