As they were talking, Ch’un-yue was summoned to the palace, and as he passed within, a curtain in front of him was drawn aside, disclosing a young girl of about fourteen years of age.  She was known as the Princess of the Golden Stem, and her dazzling beauty was well in keeping with her matchless grace.

He writes to his Father

The marriage was celebrated with all magnificence, and the young couple grew fonder from day to day.  Their establishment was kept up in princely style, their principal amusement being the chase, the King himself frequently inviting Ch’un-yue to join him in hunting expeditions to the Tortoise-back Hill.  As they were returning one day from one of these excursions, Ch’un-yue said to the King:  “On my marriage day your Majesty told me that it was my father’s desire that I should espouse your daughter.  My father was worsted in battle on the frontier, and for seventeen years we have had no news of him.  If your Majesty knows his whereabouts, I would beg permission to go and see him.”

“Your father,” replied the King, “is frequently heard of; you may send him a letter; it is not necessary to go to him.”  Accordingly a letter and some presents were got ready and sent, and in due time a reply was received, in which Ch’un-yue’s father asked many questions about his relations, his son’s occupation, but manifested no desire that the latter should come to him.

He takes Office

One day Ch’un-yue’s wife asked him if he would not like to hold office.  His answer was to the effect that he had always been a rolling stone, and had no experience of official affairs, but the Princess promised to give him her assistance, and found occasion to speak on the subject to her father.  In consequence the King one day told Ch’un-yue that he was not satisfied with the state of affairs in the south of his territory, that the present governor was old and useless, and that he would be pleased if he would proceed thither.  Ch’un-yue bowed to the King’s commands, and inwardly congratulated himself that such good fortune should have befallen a rover like him.  He was supplied with a splendid outfit, and farewell entertainments were given in his honour.

Before leaving he acknowledged to the King that he had no great confidence in his own powers, and suggested that he should be allowed to take with him Chou-pien and Tzu-hua as commissioners of justice and finance.  The King gave his consent, and issued the necessary instructions.  The day of departure having arrived, both the King and the Queen came to see Ch’un-yue and his wife off, and to Ch’un-yue the King said:  “The province of Nan-k’o is rich and fertile; and the inhabitants are brave and prosperous; it is by kindness that you must rule them.”  To her daughter the Queen said:  “Your husband is violent and fond of wine.  The duty of a wife is to be kind and submissive.  Act well toward him, and I shall have no anxiety.  Nan-k’o, it is true, is not very far—­only one day’s journey; still, in parting from you my tears will flow.”  Ch’un-yue and his bride waved a farewell, and were whirled away toward their destination, reaching Nan-k’o the same evening.