Chapter 3: Continuing the Knock

Since Wen Ruyu had transmigrated into this world, she originally had no intention of concerning herself with these sons and daughters.

However, in ancient times, unlike the modern era where the elderly could enter retirement homes and live independently, that wasn’t an option.

Even if families split up, the custom dictated that she had to stay with at least one son—otherwise, it wouldn’t be socially acceptable.

The Lu family she now belonged to wasn’t exactly impoverished; they even had servants. But compared to her modern life, it was merely passable.

Wen Ruyu couldn’t accept this hardship. She had to make use of every resource at her disposal to have a chance at a better life.

Of course, that didn’t mean exploiting the younger generation of the Lu family, working them to the bone while she enjoyed a life of leisure.

A good life had to be shared—only then could resentment be avoided.

Right now, she had just arrived in this world and was preparing to make sweeping changes. If at this moment, the concubine’s son, Lu Ke, wanted to split from the family, taking land and wealth with him, it would make it even harder to maintain the household.

Lu Ke was intelligent and had potential. Although he wasn’t close to the original Wen Ruyu, they had never openly fallen out.

With a business-minded approach, Wen Ruyu saw Lu Ke as a worthwhile investment—he was useful, and traditional filial duty ensured that he wouldn’t dare to openly disrespect her.

A fine horse—why let him go?

Besides, if the family split, not only would Lu Ke face criticism, but if she didn’t distribute the family assets fairly, people would accuse her of mistreating a concubine’s son.

In this era, the distinction between legitimate and illegitimate children wasn’t too significant. While concubine-born sons received a smaller inheritance, the difference wasn’t extreme.

However, the difference in status between a legal wife and a concubine was substantial.

The Lu family had many rural relatives. Some envied them, some wanted to latch on, and many resented the family’s social rise.

For years, people had taken advantage of Wen Ruyu’s soft-hearted nature, frequently coming to the Lu family for money. Naturally, there were many who were envious of how they had broken through social barriers to become a respected family.

If the family split, could Wen Ruyu expect kind words from these distant relatives?

Even though Lu Ke hadn’t yet dared to propose splitting the family, the potential was there. So Wen Ruyu decided to give him a warning.

Not only did she need Lu Ke to abandon the idea, but she also had to ensure that Concubine Qian wouldn’t push for it either.

Concubine Qian’s influence was manageable—after all, as a concubine, she had no say in whether the family split. As long as she didn’t stir up trouble, that was enough.

The real target of Wen Ruyu’s warning was Lu Ke.

So, as she sat on the bed, she spoke to him:

“It’s best that you think this way. Your father has been gone for five years, and all these years, your eldest brother has been struggling to support the family. Now that you’ve passed the imperial scholar exam, in another year, you’ll be taking the provincial exam. If fate allows, you’ll become an official.”

“If you listen to someone’s instigation now and insist on splitting the family, I really don’t know what I’d do. Tell me, if the family splits, I’ll still be here. Your second brother is unreliable—if he’s given his share, he’ll squander it within two years, and I’ll have to step in. Your younger brother is still a child and unmarried, so naturally, he’ll stay with me. If we do split, only you would be leaving.”

“Our Qinghe County is a small place, filled with neighbors and relatives. Those who know us well won’t say much—you’ve been filial all these years.

But what about outsiders? If they hear that the brothers stayed together all along, yet you suddenly wanted to leave after becoming a scholar, how will they judge you? How will you explain yourself?”

Wen Ruyu’s voice was soft and gentle, but her words were sharp, piercing straight into Lu Ke’s heart, leaving him flustered.

She first reminded him that his father had passed early and that the family had relied on his eldest brother. Then, she made it clear that her legitimate sons had no intention of splitting the family.

Back when times were tough, the family had remained united. If they split now, just when Lu Ke was gaining success, it would look like he was abandoning them.

No matter how filial he had been before, if he later became an official, accusations of ingratitude and unfilial conduct would be easy to pin on him.

Even if no one spoke openly about it, what if a political rival used it against him? What if his future wife’s family disapproved of him?

Hearing all this, Lu Ke quickly knelt and said earnestly:

“Mother, please believe me. I would never do such a thing. The family has treated me well—why would I want to split from it?”

Seeing this, Wen Ruyu acted as if she were relieved:

“Alright, then. Since we’ve spoken openly, there’s no grudge between us. I’ve just been unwell lately and keep hearing all sorts of rumors. I couldn’t let it go.

I know you aren’t my biological son, but I’ve never treated you unfairly. Your food, clothing, and expenses have always been the same as your brothers’. I couldn’t see any reason for you to insist on splitting the family, so I wanted to ask you directly.”

“Now that you’ve clarified things, I feel reassured. It’s cold outside, and dinner will be ready soon. There’s no need for you to kneel here—you should go and rest. Study well. Your second brother is unreliable, and now that you have a scholarly title, if you become an official, I’ll finally feel like I’ve honored your father’s memory.”

Wen Ruyu had no complicated feelings toward this concubine-born son.

In her past life, she had heard many family stories—some stepmothers struggled to get along with their stepchildren, even if they had no biological children of their own.

Let alone in this case, where the concubine’s son still had his own mother around.

If she could lead the Lu family to prosperity, then whether Lu Ke stayed or left in the future wouldn’t matter—ultimately, it was just a matter of money.

For now, money couldn’t be divided.

With two shops and a hundred acres of farmland, how could they not manage? Yet the eldest son had to travel constantly just to keep the family afloat.

Eventually, she understood why: just looking at the number of people in her household made it clear.

Even a small expense, multiplied by dozens of people, became a big problem.

If it were just the immediate family, they could live comfortably off their properties.

But they also had to support their servants, which made things difficult.

Wen Ruyu alone had four personal maids, two junior maids for odd jobs, and two old servant women managing household chores.

Then there was her longtime nursemaid, Granny Yan, whom she had to support.

It wasn’t that Wen Ruyu didn’t want to reduce household expenses—it was just how things were structured.

The hierarchy dictated that as the matriarch, she had four maids; only then could the master and mistress of the house have two personal servants each.

Reducing servants wasn’t an option, as it would upset the household’s balance.

Additionally, with a large residence requiring messengers and maintenance, even hiring seasonal workers wouldn’t save much.

Many servants had already been let go, but the household was still struggling.

That was why the eldest son had to go out and earn money.

With money tight, keeping the family together was the best option.

As for her attitude toward Lu Ke, she didn’t expect extreme filial piety—just basic respect.

She would observe him over time.

The original Wen Ruyu harbored some resentment toward Lu Ke, making her memories biased.

But Wen Ruyu believed that people had to be judged over time.

She didn’t need to build any deep motherly bond with him—just ensuring he didn’t rock the boat was enough.

Whether he saw her words as a warning, a threat, or genuine concern, as long as she achieved her goal, that was all that mattered.