Chapter 13

Since Huang Wanqing became betrothed to Li Fugui, Scholar Huang had been sulking in secret, refusing to come to the main chamber for several days.

Madam Huang exhausted all her schemes, even resorting to throwing tantrums and making scenes, but to little avail. Suspecting he had taken a lover, she planted spies to watch his every move day and night.

The maid acting as the informant reported back to Madam Huang, “Most of the time, the master stays alone in the study, but around noon he took a walk near the pond with the young master. Afterwards, he stood in the rain, lost in thought. I intended to offer him an umbrella, but unexpectedly, Young Master Jian from next door came over first. The two of them chatted, so I dared not linger nearby.”

Upon hearing “Young Master Jian from next door,” Madam Huang’s mind immediately conjured the image of a celestial-like youth. Apart from Huang Shiyu, few in the Huang household had seen Jian Xun after he turned twelve. Madam Huang herself had seen him twice and remained deeply stirred.

That brief glance had brought to life the words “eyes like autumn waters, brows like spring mountains” from the poetry she had read. Knowing she could never aspire to such heights, the pragmatic Madam Huang never entertained any thoughts of pursuing Jian Xun.

Remembering that this remarkable person had once been Scholar Huang’s student and occasionally visited the Huang household under that guise, she felt inexplicably light-hearted.

After the lights were lit, the informant returned with more news. “The master seems unwell. He only took two bites of dinner, extinguished the lamps early, and retired to his room alone. No women were there.”

Relieved yet uneasy, Madam Huang asked, “Has he been outside all day?”

“The master hasn’t, but Jinbao did go out once.”

Jinbao was Scholar Huang’s servant boy; if he went out, it was essentially the master going out—truly a fool. Madam Huang impatiently demanded, “Explain in detail.”

The maid replied, “Jinbao went next door, stayed less than half an incense stick’s time, his hands empty both going and returning. I couldn’t tell what business he had.”

Madam Huang frowned.

Jinbao had been sent by the master to deliver a message to the Jian residence.

He wasn’t sure if it was truly a letter, but the thick cowhide envelope suggested it contained something important.

Unbeknownst to him, such an envelope could contain many things—such as a concubine purchase contract.

In Da Kang, a concubine purchase contract was crucial proof for a family to take a concubine legally. It was not a mere matter of carrying a sedan chair back to host a banquet and offer tea to the mistress.

Without this contract, the family’s rights would not be recognized by law, and if the concubine ever escaped, it would not be considered a crime.

Jian Xun believed he had ample patience to tame Huang Shiyu, but the concubine contract had to be signed in advance—to prevent her being irresponsibly married off by the unreliable Huang family, and to cover the worst-case scenario.

What was the worst case? Naturally, Huang Shiyu stubbornly refusing to comply. The Jian family’s imminent return to the capital meant he could then present the contract and exercise the rights of the male head to force her to leave Zehe.

Scholar Huang lit a dim white wax candle with trembling hands and silently stared at the pristine silver notes before him—five hundred taels each, totaling two thousand taels—from the largest bank in Da Kang, Ju Cui Qianzhuang, usable at any time.

As he gazed, tears streaked down his cheeks.

The Jian family was illustrious, and Jian Yunzhang’s future immeasurable. To be their esteemed concubine was seen as a great blessing by the world. Scholar Huang did not regret it, only feared one thing.

He feared the fiery original wife.

He feared that selling his daughter, after she descended to the underworld, he would be dragged into its eighteen layers by her, never to be reborn.

Madam Huang, having guarded the empty room alone for days and stewing in anger, suddenly heard a servant report, “The master requests your presence in the study.”

She immediately perked up, hurriedly redid her hair, carefully applied makeup, then sashayed to the study door.

Her cheeks were rosy before entering; half an hour later, she emerged pale as white silk.

How could this be?

Why was such a good thing not first for Wanqing, but for Meiniang?

Madam Huang’s eyes reddened, her throat dry, and she was speechless for a long while.

Until Scholar Huang grabbed her arm and dragged her back inside, gritting his teeth, “Don’t go mad. It wasn’t my choice; Young Master Jian himself named her.”

Madam Huang sank weakly into a chair.

Such matters were naturally the man’s choice; her unreasonable outbursts were merely venting frustrations.

How could she not regret?

It turned out the Jian family was not unreachable!

The little vixen had been favored for nothing, while poor Wanqing remained clueless. Madam Huang wanted to weep but had no tears.

Had she known, she would have let Wanqing show herself once before Jian Yunzhang. Wanqing was no less worthy... Her long nails dug fiercely into her palm.

The die was cast. No matter how much she resented, stabilizing Meiniang—the cash cow—was paramount. After all, she was Yaofu’s elder sister; her wellbeing would better secure Yaofu’s future.

As for Wanqing’s chance, they would consider it long-term; there was no need to rush.

Madam Huang barely convinced herself, wanting to leave immediately. She stormed back to her chamber, slammed the doors and windows shut, then let out an angry curse, overturning the small table in the adjoining room.

---

That night in Zehe was pitch-black and moonless until dawn, when the sky suddenly brightened into a crystal-clear day.

The wooden lattice window on the far right of the west wing was wide open, with an early summer breeze gently stirring.

Amber was inside teaching Huang Shiyu needlework.

A pale yellow fine cloth main waistcoat was embroidered with verdant orchids. Huang Shiyu could not manage such delicate patterns, so Amber taught her how to make even stitches.

Just then, Liu’er came in with a message, “Second Miss, Sister Suqiu has come to pay respects and to visit Sister Amber.”

Suqiu was Jian Xun’s chief maid. When both families exchanged festival gifts, Suqiu and Fusheng often accompanied their master, so everyone in the Huang household except Liu’er recognized her.

Liu’er knew that calling Suqiu “Sister Suqiu” was a courtesy taught by Fu Xi.

Saying she came to inquire after Huang Shiyu was a mark of respect to the host family; Suqiu was mainly there to see Amber.

Amber’s exquisite needlework was well-known; even the worldly Jian family occasionally sought her advice.

Suqiu greeted Huang Shiyu with a pleasant smile and offered a graceful bow, far more refined than the simple manners of Zehe’s servants.

Huang Shiyu recalled her patron’s maids were just as formal.

City folk had many rigid customs.

Huang Shiyu naturally liked those around Jian Xun and after some polite exchanges, let Amber chat with Suqiu.

Amber was delighted to have a chance to converse with such an experienced maid. They sat in the corridor, talking from needlework to fashionable patterns, then to the upcoming temple fair.

The temple fairs in April were held twice: a smaller one on the fifteenth and a grander one on the eighteenth.

Amber happily revealed that the Second Miss planned to take her to the temple fair the next day.

Suqiu smiled and asked what was interesting about Zehe’s temple fair.

Amber immediately launched into a detailed description of the lively scenes.

Madam Huang had been reluctant to part with Amber, her chief maid, and only returned her to Huang Shiyu out of necessity, often assigning needlework tasks—embroidering handkerchiefs or making pairs of shoes—almost squeezing her dry.

Learning that Suqiu was in the west wing, Madam Huang finally relaxed.

With Madam Huang unable to intrude, Huang Shiyu could focus on her calligraphy.

She wrote nonstop for ten full pages before stopping.

Opening the book her patron had chosen for her, her face soon contorted in frustration.

She recognized all the characters, but why was it so hard to understand when put together? It was so literary.

That day, Suqiu reported back. Jian Xun was still bathing.

The heat made sweating unavoidable; after sword practice, the young master always went to the washroom first.

Suqiu patiently waited outside on a round stool.

Ruizhu entered carrying Jian Xun’s undergarments. Seeing Suqiu, she greeted her politely, very obedient. Suqiu smiled in return.

Ruizhu was no ordinary maid; her attire was a giveaway—two golden hairpins adorned her hair, and her clothes were fresh moonlight silk gauze. She was Jian Xun’s concubine.

According to the lady’s wishes, she would only be formally presented after next year’s provincial examination, when Jian Xun would be nearly seventeen—considered an adult.

Currently, the young master was already considered an adult.

Most Da Kang men married around this age, but to Lady Jian, fifteen was still too young. Hence, Ruizhu was especially cautious and rarely appeared in the young master’s quarters, only attending to his personal clothing without prying into his affairs.

She handed the fresh undergarment to the bathing servant, bowed to Jian Xun through the door, exchanged greetings with Suqiu, then hurried away without lingering—a picture of nervousness.

This was because another concubine had already been reprimanded for a breach of decorum.

That concubine had claimed the heat justified wearing only a waistcoat and was embroidering in the young master’s room. Jian Xun had stumbled upon the scene, shocked.

Lady Jian was furious, immediately selling off the reckless maid, and from that day imposed stricter rules.

Terrified, Ruizhu dared not be careless and hoped eagerly for the coming year.

Next year, she could stay by the young master’s side.

After about an incense stick’s time, Suqiu finally saw Jian Xun with his hair dried.

“Second Miss Huang is exceptionally fond of calligraphy and reading. I sat in her room half the day and saw no other activity,” Suqiu said with a smile. “Later, when she was tracing patterns, I found she was reading the ‘Garden Governance Poetry Collection.’ No wonder she frowned all that time. If it were me, I would have surrendered long ago.”

No need to guess whose hands the book came from.

---

Why give her such a difficult poetry book? What was the intention?

Jian Xun gently moved the small ceramic figurines on his desk, silent.

The lively temple fair was crowded with carriages and sedan chairs.

Huang Shiyu took a different path, bringing Amber to Wangxian Tower to taste the county’s most famous pastries and watch the bustling scene below.

When the main event of the fair began, the crowds around Wangxian Tower dispersed, flowing toward the stage for the divine prayer dance.

The bustling street suddenly fell silent and deserted.

In past years, Huang Shiyu and her sister would have joined the crowd, standing on the outskirts for amusement. But as her sister’s mother-in-law became increasingly strict, restricting outings, Huang Shiyu came out less frequently.

This year, with Amber by her side, she ventured out, buying some pastries to send to Huai Tree Alley.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted a familiar figure.

Pei Sheng?

Her fiancé.

Or rather, officially fiancé only after exchanging betrothal letters the next day.

She stared at Pei Sheng for a long time, her brow furrowing.

Amber frowned as well.

Pei Sheng looked around furtively, holding the hand of a heavily pregnant young woman, followed by several maids—one appeared to be a wet nurse holding a child.

Clearly a family.

Yet there was no news of children born to the Pei family, so it was obvious Pei Sheng not only kept a concubine but had a child by her.

At that moment, a shadow fell over Huang Shiyu’s right side, blocking the light. A familiar, gentle gentleman’s fragrance filled her nose.

Jian Xun pulled over a nearby chair and sat down, resting his left hand on the back of Huang Shiyu’s chair. Following her gaze, he remarked, “What a coincidence, you’re here at the temple fair too.”

“Oh,” Huang Shiyu answered curtly, her eyes fixed intently on Pei Sheng, who was urging the women into the carriage.

Jian Xun mused, “He’s a married man. You might want to restrain yourself.”

“He’s not married! He hasn’t wed yet!” Huang Shiyu turned her head to glare at Jian Xun, then had to lean back, “You’re crowding me.”

Jian Xun moved to make room, “There’s barely any space here, and you’re taking up most of it. How could I be crowding you?”

Huang Shiyu fell silent, lowering her face.

With the engagement imminent, Pei Sheng had received a threatening letter and had to coax and deceive his concubine to hide her at the estate.

Jian Xun had originally intended to invite Huang Shiyu for some amusement, but the Wangxian Tower was perfect. Sitting there, he saw everything clearly.

He glanced at Huang Shiyu, who had been lively moments ago but now hung her head, tears streaming down.

Why was she crying again?

Amber wanted to comfort her young mistress but her right hand was gripped by Suqiu.

Suqiu smiled gently, “With the young master here, we have nothing to worry about.”

Amber looked at her, moved her lips, then gently pushed away her hand and silently stood behind Huang Shiyu.

Another betrothal doomed to end before the exchange of letters.

Always like this, a farce.

Human joys and sorrows never truly connect. Jian Xun’s bright eyes and joyful expression only made Huang Shiyu’s tears fall all the more.

But a young lady crying openly in public was improper, so she slipped into Jian Xun’s carriage, forcing a smile through her sobs.

“Could you keep it down? People will think badly of me…” Jian Xun murmured, embarrassed.

Only then did Huang Shiyu stifle her sobs and weep silently.

Every tear he gently wiped away with a handkerchief, his touch so light it tingled and tickled. She frowned slightly, trying to avoid him, but his hand followed persistently, his thumb softly stroking her tender cheek.

Her cherry lips truly looked like ripe cherries—lustrous and full.

Jian Xun’s throat tightened.

The servants stood guard outside, and she was now his rightful concubine.

Thinking this, he leaned over to her.