***
Yao Ji pondered for a moment, considering what kind of test to devise. She knew Zong Jun was accomplished in both literary and martial arts, and deeply versed in Han culture. Trying to stump him with the Four Books and Five Classics or poetry would be risky, despite the possibility of success.
Aqing, at her side, chirped suggestions, “Your Highness, why not compete with the Great Khan in embroidery?”
Yao Ji’s eyes lit up. What a brilliant idea! How many men knew how to embroider? Even Princess Xincheng only knew the basics. As a royal princess, learning to make tassels and embroider pouches was sufficient. “You mustn’t call me ‘Your Highness’ anymore,” she reminded Aqing. “You must call me ‘Khatun.’” The wives and concubines of the Barbarian Khan were called Khatun, and the principal wife, Great Khatun.
Aqing respectfully acknowledged the correction, and Yao Ji said with a smile, “This is a splendid idea. I’ll go find him now.”
Newly married, and having just quelled the Tijia tribe’s rebellion, Zong Jun was enjoying a moment of respite. No one dared to bother him with official matters at this time. He was sitting in the golden tent, reading, when his young wife approached, a triumphant expression on her face.
Upon hearing Yao Ji’s proposed test, Zong Jun chuckled. “You truly have no pity for your husband. If you always make me restrain myself, it’s you who will suffer later.”
His words were laced with innuendo, but Yao Ji, innocent and unaware, only felt the tickle of his low voice against her ear, the warmth spreading from her small earlobe beneath her cloud-like hair. She pushed him gently. “Just tell me, can you or can’t you?”
Zong Jun wrapped his arm around her slender waist. “My dear Yaoyao, embroidery also has varying levels of skill. If you expect me to be like your Han embroiderers, aren’t you deliberately making things difficult for me?”
Yao Ji, not unreasonable, shook her head and had Aqing bring needles, thread, and scraps of cloth. “If you can make a pouch within half a day, regardless of the pattern or design, I’ll consider you to have passed the test.”
This requirement was already quite demanding. Few men in the entire Great Yan Dynasty could handle needlework.
To her surprise, Zong Jun picked up a silver needle with a nonchalant air. “Then I’m afraid you’ll regret this.”
Yao Ji’s eyes widened. Could he actually embroider a pouch? She hadn’t anticipated that Zong Jun, after years on the battlefield where female attendants were forbidden, would have mended his own clothes when torn or ripped. Making a simple pouch was hardly a challenge.
In just half an hour, a roughly sewn pouch was presented to Yao Ji. Though crooked and uneven, she had given her word and could only concede, her face a mask of disappointment.
Thus, if Yao Ji wanted to avoid consummating their marriage tonight, she had to pass Zong Jun’s test.
Zong Jun smiled. “How about we have a horse race?”