Chapter 3

“What is this for?” You asked expressionlessly, pointing at a wooden contraption in front of you.

“Madam, this is a spinning wheel,” the maid replied softly.

“I know it’s a spinning wheel. I’m asking why it’s been brought here.”

“It was sent by the master. He said that if you find yourself idle for long days, you could learn the craft of spinning thread and weaving cloth to entertain yourself.”

…………

A spinning wheel sent by your male idol… shouldn’t you at least give him some face? Hesitant, you gestured for the maid to demonstrate. She picked up the unfamiliar tool and began working the ramie fiber. As the plant fibers were combed and stretched, she slowly turned the spinning wheel while feeding the ramie threads into it.
The spinning wheel didn’t look very efficient, but it could be operated by a single person. After watching for a while, you got interested and asked the maid to step aside. You sat by the wheel, clumsy at first, and began working. The task wasn’t actually difficult, and once you got the hang of it, you felt like a pastoral, idyllic influencer, calmly enjoying the simple, peaceful passage of time.

Summer was nearly over, yet the grass insects still chirped merrily. You sat in the pavilion by the pond while the maid served crispy sweets and clear tea—indeed, in Chengdu, a hub for tea production and processing, it wasn’t hard to buy fresh tea leaves and clumsily process them yourself. Although it might seem like a strange half-finished product to the people of the Han dynasty, you simply couldn’t get used to tea brewed with oil and salt.

You spent the afternoon this way: nibbling on a couple of snacks now and then, sipping tea at intervals, and spinning thread while strolling around in between.

During snack time, your male idol came over to check on you and inspect your work.

You had spun less than a full skein of thread, but when you happily presented it to him, he actually nodded in encouragement. A few days later, however, when he came again, you realized that what you had in mind and what he had in mind were completely different.

“Wasn’t this supposed to be fine as long as I learned it?”
“No, madam, you may have misunderstood my meaning,” he said, “but it’s no matter…” He paused, then gave you a very gentle smile. “Let’s just try something else.”

The next day, a loom was placed in front of you.

Ridiculous.

Before you even learned how to use it, a visitor finally arrived—your sister-in-law, Lady Pang.

As a sudden-arrival Mary Sue, your relationships with relatives were basically zero, but you still knew roughly what their settings were. For example, this sister-in-law was the daughter of Pang Xi, married to Liu Zhang’s eldest son. She had once been the dazzling Crown Princess of Yi Province, but now she seemed to have lost her footing. It was understandable that she was in a bad mood—but judging by her appearance, she was extremely displeased.
“How dare that brat!” The noblewoman, her hair gleaming like tortoiseshell and earrings shining like moons, immediately scolded. “He’s just a lowly county magistrate, and yet, in these changing times, he dares to bully my household!”

“Who made you so angry, sister-in-law?”

“Who else but that little brat Fa Zheng!”

Oh, come on! Even if you don’t know music, painting, embroidery, or poetry, you’ve at least heard of Fa Zheng—the white moonlight in Liu Bei’s heart! Flustered, you try to stop Lady Pang’s tirade, but she hasn’t even realized she’s dragging you into her scolding.

“How can Achi be so timid! When Master Zhuge returns, you—”

“Even Master Zhuge fears Fa Xiao Zhi’s might,” you say calmly, without flinching. “Since he only injured my men and didn’t touch my brother, we should let it go.”
Your sister-in-law completely exploded. Of course, you understood— for your brother and his wife, this was entirely a matter of dignity: “This isn’t just slapping my behind, it’s slapping your face!” But in these chaotic times, surviving at all is already a blessing; who’s talking about dignity? Didn’t even the Empress get dragged out of the palace by Hua Xin and executed? Your household is barely a recent bloom—resisting recklessly would be courting death.

But your sister-in-law’s brainwaves clearly didn’t match yours. After scolding, she fixed you with a suspicious stare. “Achi, are you trying to shirk responsibility?”

Shirk? Of course you wanted to, but whether you did or not hardly mattered. Yet she stepped two paces closer, and it felt like a blast had knocked you back.

“Achi, how does your husband treat you? I hear that the ugly girl he married in Jingzhou is about to arrive—”
Lady Pang, moving faster than thunder and before anyone could react, pressed her hand against your lower abdomen, eyes brimming with expectation. “You better give us a good showing!”

…………………………

Don’t ask who Jingjing is—you just want to be Jingjing.

In the end, the conversation went as you wished. You persuaded your sister-in-law that, before you “consolidate favor,” she and your brother would try to stay low and avoid provoking Fa Zheng. Actually, looking at Fa Zheng’s timeline, you realized that defeating him didn’t require anyone’s help—you just had to survive the Jian’an era…

As for how to “consolidate favor,” you had no idea. You thought this challenge was absurdly ridiculous.

Now, the official wife of your beloved is arriving. What do you do? You have the following options:
A. “Miao Huang Zhuan” tells you that the official wife is likely ruthless; you must read the room carefully, proceed cautiously, and gradually plan to take her place.

B. “Miao Xi Gonglue” tells you that the official wife could be a white moonlight—gentle, kind, radiant yet melancholic. You could become her close friend, maybe even escalate to a yuri relationship, putting a hat somewhere between green and orange on your beloved.

C. “Miao Pingle” tells you that the official wife might be an ambitious heroine. She doesn’t care who your beloved loves, so you can boldly make your move without worry.

D. “Miao Zi Fei Shengzhi Ji” tells you that the official wife could also be a transmigrator. If that’s true… you’re doomed.

No matter what, as the daughter of the previous lord of Yi Province, your position is extremely awkward. Lower yourself, and it looks like you’re dragging your beloved into the resentment of the Yi aristocracy; raise yourself, and it looks like you’re challenging the official wife. Moreover, whether Lady Huang is beautiful or not, your beloved only recognizes her as his wife. In his heart, you’re either a little kitten or puppy shoved over, or almost just a bundle of baggage.
Your beloved came again.

Counting on your fingers—not including the wedding day—he’s come four times in the past month, roughly once a week. Although he only comes to have a meal with you, chat a little, and then sleep in separate rooms, you’re neither a crazy fangirl nor an overly possessive type, and given your current situation, you’re quite satisfied.

So before he speaks, should you take the initiative and suggest paying a visit to the soon-to-arrive Lady Huang?

After some thought, you tentatively asked:

“I heard Lady Huang’s carriage will soon arrive in Chengdu. I suppose it’s proper for me to pay a visit. What sort of gift would be appropriate?”

Your beloved, holding a bamboo slip and reading, looked up at you. He clearly pondered for a moment, then nodded.

“It’s rare for you to have such thoughtfulness,” he smiled. “I’ll prepare it myself.”

Cautious enough! Perhaps he fears you might hide mischief in the gift. You nodded along, then brought up the question that had been troubling you most:

“Then I’ll trouble you, sir. There’s one more matter…”

“Oh?”
“I…” You hesitated, realizing you had no reference for how a concubine should greet the main wife. You’d seen two types of greetings: between noblewomen of equal rank, and from servants to their masters, usually involving kneeling. Unsure which applied, you asked, “When I meet Lady Huang, how should I… pay my respects?”

“…Sisters’ etiquette will do,” he said after a moment, giving a small sigh.

Thank heavens.

The day arrived quickly. You had no idea what gifts he had prepared. Early in the morning, choosing your outfit, you hesitated. The maid suggested something imposing, while you preferred something modest. She suddenly snapped, “You are a noblewoman of Yizhou—you cannot appear timid before a village lady!”
You couldn’t believe it—you realized for the first time that your servants had their own opinions! In fact, they seemed to value your status and dignity even more than you did. Despite your protests, on such a hot day, they dressed you in three or four layers of brocade, each shimmering and dazzling. You felt like a giant nesting doll, but there was nothing really wrong with it.

Your face was powdered, but you refused rouge—you didn’t want to look like a creepy oriental doll in front of your crush. Finally, your maid dabbed a popular pink paste on your lips, which you tasted—sweet, probably made from flower petals.

“Beauty shines from the sleeves,” she said, finishing her adjustments before sending you to the carriage. Her proud gaze told you exactly how you looked: a battle-ready rooster.

Fine. As a reluctant participant in Meow Huan’s Tale, you sank into self-pity all the way to your stop. Peeking through the carriage curtain, you saw your crush raise an eyebrow at you.

“Madam is splendidly dressed today,” he said cheerfully, seemingly oblivious to the servants’ battle-ready efforts, and gestured for them to help you out and lead you into his true residence.

How should you put it…
Standing at the foot of the steps was a woman in her thirties, wearing a white-and-red skirt covered with a teal outer robe. She wasn’t strikingly beautiful, but she gave off a warm, approachable aura. She smiled at you and gave a slight bow.

You hurriedly returned the greeting and began reciting your prepared lines. Halfway through, your crush walked up to her, and they exchanged a glance—you noticed his demeanor beside her was completely different from how he acted with you! No probing, no awkwardness—just a standard, mutual, affectionate look between a husband and his wife.

How did you feel? Envious? No—your mind went back to the time of the six expeditions to Qishan. Back then, he was almost a hollow shell, his life nearly spent, with only a sliver of his soul sustaining the distant, endless Northern Campaign and that frail body.

But now, standing beside his wife, he was the future Prime Minister of Shu Han, loyal to his lord, his dreams closer than ever, no longer needing to be away from his family. He was full of vigor, at his absolute best.

And you, a hardcore fangirl, suddenly felt your feelings elevate—you lunged forward, grasped Huang Furen’s hand, abandoned your rehearsed lines, and sincerely said, “Sister, I really love the way you and Sir look together!”

…You probably earned not just your crush’s sympathy, but his wife’s as well.