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On the morning before the wedding, the plaque in front of the Imperial Preceptor's residence was replaced with a new one.

When the old plaque was taken down, dark marks from last autumn's rain still remained on its edges. The new plaque is black with gold lettering, bearing four characters—"The Imperial Son-in-Law and the Imperial Preceptor's Residence"—the strokes are slightly thicker than the old plaque, the characters are robust, and it uses a rubbing of Zhao Yan's own handwriting.

Xiaolan stood at the bottom of the steps, looked up, turned around to check the number of eaves decorations that needed to be arranged today, still holding the account book in her hand, her thumb pressing down on the page filled with numbers, looking at it as she walked, and then turned her head to direct the servants to hang two new lanterns on the corridor pillars.

All day long, the mansion felt like a knot that had been repeatedly wiped clean and was slowly tightening.

Xiaolan led her people to spread the wedding curtains all over the main hall and the corridor. Every time she pointed to a spot, the servants would climb up a ladder and hang the curtains up, ensuring that the gaps between the hanging edges were consistent, as if they were re-measuring the entire Imperial Preceptor's residence with some kind of meticulous scale.

Xiaoyu brought out a stack of newly ordered bowls and plates from the backyard storeroom. The housekeeper's wife squatted at the kitchen door, counting the number of dried fruits to be used for tomorrow's banquet. She ran her fingertips over the edges of several old ceramic pots to make sure that the fruits were evenly and neatly piled in each pot.

Inside and outside the mansion, red silk and lanterns were everywhere, and footsteps along the corridors maintained their usual rhythm. In a few inconspicuous spots inside the courtyard wall, the shift changes were being maintained in another form—small windows were opened a crack and then closed again.

The commotion at the palace was even greater.

New flags were planted on both sides of the stone steps in front of the Zichen Hall, with an extra line of dragon patterns embroidered on them compared to usual. The chimneys of the Imperial Kitchen had been burning continuously since dawn, and the smell of heat and grease mingled and drifted along the palace walls toward the Imperial Garden.

The chief eunuch, dressed in a new crimson robe, stood under the corridor directing the palace servants to spread the red carpet from the palace entrance all the way down the steps. Every so often, he would squat down and press the carpet with his palm, as if using his sense of touch to check the smoothness of every inch. After standing up, he would walk a few more steps forward and then squat down to press another section.

Zhao Yan did not review any memorials today. He stood in his study on the west side of the Zichen Palace, a wedding ceremony schedule spread out before him, marked with several points in vermilion ink where he needed to personally walk the steps. He looked at it several times before turning and walking towards the palace gate. As he crossed the Imperial Garden, he heard the chief eunuch repeating the details of the last few steps on the schedule in the opposite corridor.

The city gates have also changed.

The four city gates were open from dawn. New flags were planted on both sides of the gate openings, and the guards were wearing new armor and looked much more energetic. The checks were noticeably less stringent than usual. Peddlers entering the city were only asked "What goods are you carrying?" before being let through, and pedestrians leaving the city were not even stopped.

Several long tables were set up in the open space inside the gate, with tea and dried fruit on them, prepared for the people coming to the city to participate in the celebration. A red paper with the words "Same Celebration" written on it was pasted on the corner of the table. Over the next few days, the number of people entering the city increased significantly. Peddlers carrying loads, farmers driving donkey carts, and travelers with bags on their backs—all had ordinary faces. Some walked hurriedly, some looked around, and some sat at the long tables inside the city gate to rest and drink water.

The city gate guards changed shifts according to the revised duty roster, and the passwords for inspections were also simplified accordingly; some people were only asked a couple of questions before being waved through. Not far away, an old man who had been resting by the gate reloaded his load onto his shoulder pole. At each end of the pole hung a worn-out burlap sack, and the edge of a metal piece was faintly visible among the exposed straw stems at the knot. He quickly bent down and tucked it into the folds of the sack with his shoulder, without further inspection.

In the afternoon, a few young men carrying empty baskets lined with dry grass came to the foot of the city wall. They squatted by the long table inside the city gate, drinking the free tea. After finishing one bowl, they didn't ask for more. They stood up, dusted off their knees, and walked south along the foot of the city wall, disappearing into a side alley.

Fifty miles outside the city, two reconnaissance teams sent out by Xiaolan had returned before dusk.

The first group reported discovering makeshift cooking pits about 30 miles to the south, located at the edge of two adjacent woodlands. There were about 20 such pits, and there were traces of horse-drawn carriages and livestock around them.

The second group reported numerous scattered footprints to the west, distributed in several gullies about forty li west of the city, generally heading south-southeast. The third group, returning from the west, found a small number of hoofprints at a bend in the river southeast of the city; the imprints were a mixture of old and new, and varied in moisture, suggesting that the group had passed through in batches.

After the three groups pieced together their respective positions and times in front of Lin Yanzhou, they formed a discontinuous but roughly complete arc-shaped trajectory—slowly contracting towards the same center from three different directions simultaneously.

Xiaolan stood by the table, waiting for Lin Yanzhou to fold the map before speaking: "No new people entered or left that old house contact point during the day. I have people continue to monitor it at a distance, and sentry posts have been left outside the house and at the corner of the wall. We will not withdraw the people tonight."

Lin Yanzhou put the map into the corner drawer of his desk: "The people outside the city don't need to evacuate. Keep your distance."

No one is destined to sleep tonight.

In the darkness to the north, 300,000 people are moving silently along a narrow river valley.

There were no torches, no flags. The procession moved close to the shadows of the mountains, maintaining a fixed distance between the front and rear ranks. The horses' hooves were wrapped in thick cloth, and the axles of the carts were re-oiled.

Zhou Chongyuan walked in the middle of the column, flanked by two scout captains. Every hour, they would recheck the distance between the vanguard and the rearguard to ensure no one had fallen behind. He looked up ahead—the vanguard had crossed the narrowest part of the valley and entered the mountains of the northern suburbs, a completely undeveloped area.

This gap was no coincidence. Prince An's forces had established dense scouting lines in the southwest and southeast, but the north remained uncovered. When Zhang Lin was still alive, the northern garrison was the most frequently redeployed force, lacking a fixed base; all troop movement records were scattered across various files. Prince An therefore concluded that there was no organized army in the north, believing that its troops had long since been disbanded and incorporated into the border defense forces, treating the north as a passage that didn't require much attention.

Unbeknownst to him, the northern garrison scattered across various files had already reached their designated positions seven days before the wedding, with the vanguard of 10,000 men arriving without entering the city or setting up camp. A second wave of 20,000 men arrived five days before the wedding, relieving the vanguard of their sentry posts and advancing the defensive line fifteen miles forward. The final wave of 270,000 men—the main force—entered their positions in batches three nights before the wedding, spreading out along the narrow river valley to the north, completing the blockade of the entire northern suburbs. These 300,000 men were deployed along a narrow passage running from north to south, flanked by hills, while the enemy never sent a single patrol to the north. They were completely unaware of the passage's existence, much less that it was already filled with a complete military formation.

Lin Yanzhou stood under the eaves of the Imperial Preceptor's residence in the backyard. The lights in the west wing were still on, and Xiaolan and Xiaoyu were inside tidying up things they would need for tomorrow. He knew that no enemies would enter the city tonight.