Chapter 10

Back in the day, Jiang Wanrou struggled immensely in the Lu household and paid little attention to her fifth sister, Jiang Wanying. She only heard that her sister’s husband was an exceptionally talented scholar, the youngest top scorer in the imperial examinations of their dynasty. At the time, she admired Jiang Wanying’s fortunate life—not because of her husband’s academic achievements, but because she had followed him to an external post, leaving the capital behind.

The world outside was vast and unrestricted. It lacked the capital’s overwhelming rules and traditions, and being far away from home meant they rarely brought elderly parents along. Newly married and free from the pressure of elders, with the Emperor far away, Jiang Wanying’s life must have been incredibly carefree.

It was worlds apart from the chaos of the Lu household.

Upon meeting her fifth brother-in-law, Pei Zhang, today, Jiang Wanrou finally understood the phrase, “The refined gentleman is as polished and carved jade, cultivated and tempered to perfection.” When he appeared, even the humble alley seemed to radiate brilliance. He carried himself with dignity, neither overly submissive nor arrogant, his manners impeccable. Apart from the somewhat cryptic remark he made earlier, Jiang Wanrou found Pei Zhang to be highly impressive.

Since childhood, Jiang Wanrou struggled to study and had an innate admiration and respect for scholars. She had long since given up on herself, instead focusing on urging Huaiyi to dedicate himself to learning. But when it came to his ability to study… well, she chose not to dwell on it.

As her thoughts wandered further, Jiang Wanrou realized that Pei Zhang, outstanding as he was, was merely an acquaintance from a fleeting encounter. She had many pressing matters to attend to—Lu Feng and Jiang Wanxue, Huaiyi’s health, preparations for the New Year, and the matriarch’s birthday celebration afterward. All these responsibilities quickly pushed Pei Zhang out of her mind.

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In Xinyue Alley in the southern part of the city, in front of an old three-entry mansion, stood a graceful woman, finely dressed, gazing out toward the distance.

Pei Zhang stepped down from his carriage and had a servant retrieve a cloak to wrap around her shoulders. In a gentle tone, he said, “The wind outside is strong. There’s no need to wait out here for me.”

The woman’s complexion was fair, and her features were delicate and beautiful. Though she was a naturally elegant beauty, she wore an overly elaborate begonia-colored brocade gown with a gold peony hairpin. The extravagant attire, rather than enhancing her charm, diminished her pure and graceful appearance.

This was Pei Zhang’s wife, Jiang Wanying.

As she took Pei Zhang’s arm, Jiang Wanying said while walking back together, “You’ve been gone for so long, I was worried about you.”

Once inside the main hall, Pei Zhang discreetly withdrew his arm and said, “There were some delays on the way. How is Mother? Is she feeling better?”

Jiang Wanying stiffened slightly, her lips pressing into a faint frown, “Cousin Zhen gave her some medicine. She’s resting now.”

Pei Zhang responded with a soft “Hmm,” seemingly indifferent to her displeasure. “As the year-end approaches, there’s much to handle. Thank you for taking care of Mother.”

With that, he stepped toward the study.

“Pei Lang—”

“Pei Lang.”

Jiang Wanying hurried after him and suddenly embraced his slender waist from behind, her voice heavy with emotion. “Pei Lang, please don’t go. I… I’m scared.”

She had awoken with a sense of unease, her chest heavy and her heart racing, as though something bad was about to happen. Distracted throughout the day, she pricked her fingers until they bled while working on Pei Zhang’s cloak. Only when she went outside to meet his return did she find some relief.

Pei Zhang released her hand and sighed softly, almost imperceptibly.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take my cousin as a concubine.”

Though he had repeatedly reassured her, Pei Zhang patiently repeated, “When I was young, I lived in my aunt’s household. She treated me like her own son and endured scolding from my uncle to ensure I could study and write. Now that my aunt has passed away, my cousin is left all alone. As her elder brother, it is only right that I look after her.”

“My feelings for Cousin Ruan are purely sibling affection, without a shred of romantic interest.”

“But Mother doesn’t see it that way!”

Jiang Wanying interrupted sharply, her eyes widening in distress. “She’s long wanted to make Ruan Zhen her daughter-in-law! Mother… Mother despises me!”

Pei Zhang remained silent for a moment. Even the usually composed and resourceful official found himself troubled by the tension between his mother and his wife. One was the woman who had raised and nurtured him; the other was the wife who had married him when he had little to offer. To him, they both represented obligations he could not escape.

He replied calmly, “We’ve spent three years away from home as a couple, and Mother has had little chance to understand you. Over time, she will come around.”

A trace of sarcasm flashed through Jiang Wanying’s eyes. That beloved cousin of his had spent three years serving the elderly matriarch back in Qingzhou and now had accompanied them to the capital. The matriarch’s intentions were all too clear, and besides…

Lowering her gaze, her voice trembled with grievance, “Mother will never like me, Pei Lang. You must stand by me.”

What mother-in-law could possibly accept a daughter-in-law who couldn’t bear children? In the four years she had been married to Pei Zhang, Jiang Wanying had tried everything—medicine, prayers to the gods, countless folk remedies—but she still couldn’t conceive.

Desperately clutching Pei Zhang’s sleeve, she pleaded, her voice pitiful and anxious, “Pei Lang, the capital has the best imperial physicians and the rarest medicinal herbs. We will have a son—I know we will! You cannot take a concubine. You promised me once, you swore you never would. You cannot go back on your word!”

After spending several years as an official’s wife following Pei Zhang, Jiang Wanying had shed the timid demeanor she once had as a member of the marquis household. It was rare for her to lose composure like she did today. She couldn’t understand why she felt such overwhelming anxiety, as if something significant were slipping away from her. She could only attribute it to the sudden appearance of Ruan Zhen.

Hearing her words, Pei Zhang’s gaze darkened slightly, his pitch-black eyes flickering with a trace of gloom. He released her hand subtly and responded calmly, “There’s no rush; we’re still young. Perhaps it’s simply a matter of timing.”

“And tonight—”

“With the year-end approaching, I have many official matters to attend to. I’ll be sleeping in the study tonight.”

He gently smoothed Jiang Wanying’s hair, his tone soft but undeniably firm. “Madam, the nights are chilly—add more charcoal and don’t wait for me.”

Jiang Wanying watched as Pei Zhang’s figure disappeared, standing there in a daze. Suddenly, she flung her sleeve in frustration, sending a set of blue and white porcelain on the pear blossom table crashing to the floor, shattering into countless pieces.

Her maid, hearing the noise, rushed in and exclaimed, “Oh no! How did this happen? Madam, are you hurt?”

The maid took Jiang Wanying’s hand to check for injuries and found tears streaming down her face as Jiang Wanying murmured, “This isn’t how it should be. It wasn’t supposed to be like this…”

Although the maid didn’t fully grasp her mistress’s words, she could sense Jiang Wanying’s deep sorrow. Reflecting for a moment, she understood the cause of the sadness—her mistress had become obsessed with the pursuit of having a child.

Suddenly, the maid clapped her hands as if struck by inspiration, and said excitedly, “Madam, don’t cry! I remembered—there’s a remedy I heard of from the inquiries you asked me to make!”

“In the palace, there is a secret medicine specifically designed to help with childbearing. The current Emperor has eleven children—it’s said to be remarkably effective!”

Jiang Wanying’s hopeful eyes dimmed instantly. “The palace’s secret medicine is probably difficult to obtain,” she murmured.

Given her current status, she didn’t even qualify to access the palace grounds.

Her maid chuckled softly and said, “Madam, hear me out. While the medicine is rare, the Emperor once bestowed it upon Lord Lu—the infamous and rumoredly ruthless Commander Lu. And Lady Lu— she’s your blood relative.”

Seeing Jiang Wanying still confused, the maid clarified, “It’s your younger sister—the sixth miss of the Marquis Ning’an household!”

Upon hearing that name, Jiang Wanying’s pupils constricted sharply. Her fingertips dug into her palm, turning her fingers pale.

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Elsewhere, the “childbearing secret medicine” Jiang Wanying had fixated upon was presented on a tray by Cui Zhu, only for Jiang Wanrou to regard it with both disdain and frustration.

“Cui Zhu.”

Jiang Wanrou massaged her temples, sighing in resignation. “Lu Feng hasn’t returned home these past two days. Even if I drink it, what good will it do?”

Cui Zhu’s round face lit up with a placating smile. “Better to be prepared, Madam. Who knows, perhaps the master will come back today.”

As the trusted maidservant closest to the mistress, Cui Zhu earned a generous monthly salary of fifteen taels of silver—enough to cover an ordinary family’s expenses for half a year. Madam Jiang was kind and gentle, never punishing servants without reason and frequently offering rewards. Out of gratitude, Cui Zhu was utterly devoted to serving her mistress, often more concerned about certain matters than Jiang Wanrou herself.

In the past, Lu Feng would sometimes be away from home for half a month. Back then, Jiang Wanrou remained composed, closing the door to her private life and simply instructing the kitchen to prepare meals to be sent to him daily as a gesture of her care as his wife. This time, however, Lu Feng had only been absent for a few days, yet Jiang Wanrou frequently furrowed her brows in thought. To Cui Zhu, her mistress seemed flustered.

Lu Feng’s formidable reputation left Cui Zhu too fearful to speak ill of him even if given a hundred chances. She could only muster up courage to offer words of comfort: “Madam, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen—more beautiful than the imperial concubines in the palace. The master is only too busy; when he has the time, he surely wouldn’t neglect you.”

And if there were a child or two, things would be even better.

The eldest young master was indeed clever and sharp, but his body was undeniably frail. On top of that, he was exceptionally picky with food. Though pampered daily with delicacies, he ate no more than a little kitten—truly worrying to watch.

Jiang Wanrou chuckled as she looked at Cui Zhu. She could roughly guess what was going through her maid’s mind, but there was no way to explain it to her. Earlier that day, when the horses were frightened, Cui Zhu had ignored her own safety and rushed to protect Jiang Wanrou—an act of loyalty that did not go unnoticed.

Jiang Wanrou smiled and said, “Alright, alright. Leave it there. With such a devoted maid like you, the Lu household will never have to worry about lacking descendants.”

“For the New Year, I’ll give you a generous reward.”

Cui Zhu grinned happily but then seemed a little downhearted as she said, “It’s a pity I won’t be able to celebrate with Sister Jin Tao this year.”

Cui Zhu had been sold by her parents into service, bound by a death contract that allowed her master to punish her severely without consequences. She had long forgotten what her parents even looked like. Coming into the household later, Jin Tao had cared for her like an older sister. In previous years, the two had spent New Year’s Eve together, relying on each other for comfort.

Suddenly, Jiang Wanrou froze, recalling Jin Tao, whom she had left at the Marquis Ning’an household.

Jiang Wanrou said to Cui Zhu, “The Yao family in Jiangnan sent two old ginseng roots for the New Year. Go to the Marquis’s residence to deliver them to Concubine Li and take the opportunity to check on your Sister Jin Tao.”

“Additionally, withdraw twenty taels of silver from the account room. Although she’s not by my side, she shouldn’t miss out on her New Year’s money.”

Cui Zhu was overjoyed at the thought of seeing her Sister Jin Tao again but jokingly teased, “Madam, you’re not allowed to be biased. If my New Year’s money is less than Sister Jin Tao’s, I’ll definitely make a fuss.”

“Nobody will be shortchanged—now hurry along,” Jiang Wanrou said with a smile. Then she added, “By the way, it’s unsafe outside lately. Take a few extra guards with you. Enter through the rear gate of the Marquis’s residence so as not to disturb anyone.”

Cui Zhu moved swiftly and returned to the manor just as dusk fell, bringing back a pair of boots and an envelope.

Unlike Cui Zhu, who was illiterate, Jin Tao had served in the rooms of Lu household’s young ladies and could write a few words, albeit barely.

Jin Tao’s letter was concise and to the point, containing only three sections. The first expressed her respectful greetings to Madam Jiang. The second mentioned that the imperial physician’s skills had improved Concubine Li’s coughing condition. The third finally addressed the main matter—an inquiry Jiang Wanrou had entrusted her with, asking her to investigate events from years ago.

It had been far too long, and the matter was far from honorable. Back then, because of that incident, many people were executed, including the maid who had soiled Jiang Wanrou’s clothing. Her remains had long decayed in the mass burial ground.

However, a woman named Ying’er had survived. She married the steward of a nearby estate, and three years ago, the steward freed himself from servitude. The family left the capital and disappeared without a trace.

Now, Ying’er was the sole living lead. Searching for her amidst the sea of people was like finding a needle in a haystack—a task that seemed both difficult and, surprisingly, straightforward.

Even in the far-off northern territories, the Jinglong Bureau—a secretive, omnipresent force—could report the drunken, offhanded remarks made by a general to the Emperor. Truly, their reach and power were boundless.

Jiang Wanrou smirked faintly as she placed the letter over the candle flame, watching it burn. She then lowered her gaze to examine the boots—a clearly masculine design. The boot surface was made of exquisite silk, with finely stitched details and vibrant embroidery depicting a qilin, a symbol of auspiciousness and prosperity. The craftsmanship was both elegant and luxurious.

Once again, Jiang Wanrou marveled at Jin Tao’s thoughtfulness.

Her own embroidery skills were lacking, but as a dutiful wife, how could she neglect needlework? She had once spent an entire afternoon diligently seated on a small embroidery stool, attempting to sew, only to end up with pricked fingers resembling a honeycomb. She eventually decided not to force herself anymore. Lu Feng, unaware of the truth, carried sachets, cords, and sword tassels—all crafted by Jin Tao.

Jin Tao, ever considerate, never completed her work entirely. She would intentionally leave a border unfinished or leave a few stitches for Jiang Wanrou to complete—enabling the work to still count as the Madam’s own.

After putting the boots away, Jiang Wanrou hesitated briefly, then placed them on the most conspicuous table near the entrance. She suspected Lu Feng wouldn’t return tonight. Letting her hair down, she retreated to her inner quarters to bathe.

When Lu Feng finally entered the manor, Jiang Wanrou had just stepped out of her bath. Her thick black hair was damp, cascading over her shoulders, with stray locks clinging to her porcelain-like cheeks. Droplets of water slid down her face, chin, and collarbone, tracing their way to the rounded fullness of her chest.

It was like the delicate dew teetering on the tip of a spring blossom.