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Huang Juan was moved by Shen Zhaozhao’s sincerity. “Since Third Young Madam insists, I’ll go report to the Old Madam first. You can head straight to the Jun Hall later.”
Shen Zhaozhao nodded and watched Huang Juan’s figure gradually disappear into the distance. She rolled up her sleeves and jogged briskly along the covered corridor.
The Zhan family residence wasn’t particularly large. After a few turns, Shen Zhaozhao spotted her first target.
It wasn’t that the storeroom was hard to find—it was that the smoke curling from the kitchen made it far too conspicuous.
It wasn’t mealtime yet, so only the cook was there, washing vegetables by the well in the backyard.
Shen Zhaozhao slipped inside, touched around the chopping board, kitchen knife, bowls, plates, and seasonings, and stashed them all into her storage space. On her way out, she even helped herself to the large, steaming white buns in the bamboo steamer. Just as she was about to leave, her gaze landed on the wok on the stove—a large iron pot, polished and gleaming with a bluish sheen from years of seasoning.
What a great pot!
Exile couldn’t be avoided, but at the very least, they had to eat well.
And to eat well, pots and pans were indispensable.
When the cook returned to the kitchen with a basket of freshly washed vegetables and saw the empty stove, her hand loosened from shock.
*Clang—*
“The pot! Which cursed thief stole my pot?!”
Shen Zhaozhao continued sneaking through the estate. Perhaps the Zhan family had truly declined—there wasn’t even a single patrol guard in sight.
Before long, she found the location of the storeroom. Looking around to make sure no one was nearby, she pulled out the hairpin from her bun and fiddled with the lock.
*Click—*
The lock popped open.
Shen Zhaozhao slipped inside.
The Zhan family’s storeroom wasn’t large—just a few big wooden chests and several shelves.
The shelves held some bolts of fabric, none of which looked particularly valuable. Inside the chests were a few silver ingots and some pieces of jewelry.
Not a lot.
It seemed the Zhan family wasn’t greedy for wealth. Otherwise, with the chaos of war, they could’ve seized from everywhere. The storeroom wouldn’t be this empty if they had.
Operating under the rule of “leave nothing behind,” Shen Zhaozhao swept all the large chests into her storage space as well. Then, she stealthily slipped out of the storeroom and glanced up at the sky.
It was nearly noon.
Satisfied, she straightened her skirt and confidently made her way to the next Courtyard.
Why wait for the confiscation when you can move out ahead of time?
As long as a Courtyard was empty, Shen Zhaozhao didn’t skip a single one—she went through them all.
Inside Jun Hall, the Zhan family’s Old Madam was listening to Huang Juan describe the newlywed granddaughter-in-law.
“Old Madam, you wouldn’t believe it—Third Young Madam is truly virtuous. She personally attended to Third Young Master’s morning wash.”
“When I went over earlier, Third Young Madam was still worried about leaving Third Young Master alone. She insisted on returning.”
Huang Juan spoke animatedly.
The Old Madam listened, deeply gratified.
“That’s good. She’s a thoughtful, obedient girl,” the Old Madam sighed. “I hope Nanxing and Zhaozhao can live well together, and that he’ll recover in time.”
She had worried before that Shen Zhaozhao might not be willing to marry into their family, but seeing all this now, she realized her decision had been absolutely right.
One war had taken her husband, her son, and two of her grandsons. Only the youngest, Zhan Nanxing, had survived.
Because of their defeat, the once-prosperous Zhan family had become like rats scurrying across the street—reviled by all.
Even the marriage engagement that had been arranged for Zhan Nanxing since childhood was annulled by the bride’s family. He was on the verge of becoming the laughingstock of the entire city. Fortunately, Minister Shen, out of consideration for past ties, had his own daughter marry into the family at this critical moment.
The Old Madam knew full well that their current situation was unfair to the bride. But people are selfish by nature, and she wanted her grandson to keep on living.
For Zhan Nanxing now, death would be easy.
Living, that was the real hardship.
Shen Zhaozhao sneaked her way to Jun Hall. The moment she stepped inside, several pairs of eyes turned to look at her all at once.
“Zhaozhao, come here and let Grandmother have a look,” the Old Madam beamed, crow’s feet crinkling at the corners of her eyes as she waved her over cheerfully.
Second Sister-in-law Guo, born of a merchant family and known for her bold, unrestrained speech, teased, “Third Sister-in-law is positively glowing! I remember on the second day of my wedding, I could barely get out of bed.”
“Second Sister-in-law, mind your words,” came the reprimand from Eldest Sister-in-law Lin, seated upright with perfect posture. She cast a glance at the casually slouched Guo and added with pointed politeness, “Third Sister-in-law has now joined the family. From this day on, we’re all one household.”
“You’re so beautiful, Third Sister-in-law,” chimed in the youngest sister, Zhan Lingyao, a sweet and dreamy thirteen-year-old girl. Her gaze fell on Shen Zhaozhao’s delicate, jade-like features, and her admiration was sincere.
With a soft smile, Shen Zhaozhao first paid her respects to the Old Madam. Then she paused before a woman whose face was clouded with sorrow. “And this is…”
The two sisters-in-law fell silent. The Old Madam picked up her tea cup and took a deliberate sip—a tactical move to avoid the awkwardness.
Only Zhan Lingyao, feeling a little embarrassed, rose and stood behind the woman, reminding her, “Mother, Third Sister-in-law has come to greet you.”
Madam Yang had been sitting there lost in a daze. Startled by her daughter’s prompt, she seemed to snap out of a dream. Without waiting for Shen Zhaozhao to offer tea, she hastily pulled out a bracelet and thrust it forward. “Poor child… you’ve been wronged…”
“Ahem!” The Old Madam’s face darkened. She cleared her throat sharply to interrupt her.
“Zhaozhao, this is your Mother-in-law.”
Shen Zhaozhao’s gaze swept over the room filled with widows. A faint, serene smile rose on her face as she presented the tea to Zhan Nanxing’s mother. “Mother.”
Just as Madam Yang was about to take the cup, a young servant burst in, stumbling over himself.
“Old Madam! Something terrible has happened! A group of soldiers has surrounded the estate—”
“They say they’re here under imperial orders to confiscate the property!”
*Clang—*
Startled, Madam Yang gasped. Her hands trembled, and the teacup slipped from her grasp, shattering on the floor.
“We’re finished… we’re really finished… What do we do? My husband’s gone, and now they come to bully us…” Madam Yang wailed and collapsed in a heap on the floor.
“Silence!” The Old Madam rose to her feet, suppressing her fury as she scolded her daughter-in-law. Face darkened, she leaned on her cane and marched out of Jun Hall.
The two other granddaughters-in-law followed behind her. Though visibly concerned, they remained composed and left the hall with the Old Madam.
Zhan Lingyao couldn’t ignore her own mother. She rushed over to help and comfort her.
Meanwhile, Shen Zhaozhao turned her gaze toward the front gate.
Sure enough—just as in the dream, everything that was meant to come had arrived, right on schedule.
A small mercy amidst misfortune: she had already emptied out the entire Zhan estate.