Qin Ruoyue's gloating thoughts almost overflowed from her eyes. Her neck stretched out, and she wanted to go over and see her expression at the moment so that she could laugh heartily three times.
Ultimately, this nominal sister-in-law of hers was simply lucky, having married the powerful eldest brother. Any other man, how could he have used such drastic measures to quell the swirling gossip? Even if she had spoken the truth a few days ago, she still had to apologize today.
"Sister-in-law, it's getting late. I'm leaving first."
"Don't think too much, it's harmful to your health."
Before she finished speaking, she stood up and walked straight out, fearing that if she was a step slower, she would run into her eldest brother.
Mrs. Zhou chased in vain and spat at the swaying door curtain, her old eyes blazing with fire: "What a filthy thing! The fourth young lady has such a big mouth, isn't she afraid of the wind blowing her tongue off? Madam, please don't take it to heart, it's not worth it."
Even so, she sighed deeply. No one in the mansion knew her master's life better than she did. Wen Tang's mother was a singer, while the mistress of the Bo's mansion was a distinguished lady from a noble family. The Bo's father was a spineless wimp, relying entirely on his wife to support the family. How could a mistress like that even allow them to enter the house?
Wen Tang had been abandoned in the countryside since childhood, with no one to teach him manners. When he was first brought back to the uncle's mansion, he still spoke with a thick accent and even walked with an uneasy air, like a wild bird that had strayed into a gilded cage, confused and uneasy. The little bit of life that had once nurtured him in the wilds was suppressed to the point that he dared not even speak.
Later, Wen Zhiyi escaped from the marriage, and Wen Tang's reputation completely fell into the quagmire.
To this day, Mrs. Zhou couldn't understand why Wen Zhiyi, the legitimate daughter of a noble mansion, would abandon the immense wealth of a Duke's mansion, the envied eldest son, and choose to run away from her marriage? She'd choose to marry a merchant far away in the south of the Yangtze River. Of the four classes of scholars, farmers, artisans, and merchants, merchants were the lowest class, the peasants. If that wasn't she just crazy, what was she? Someone who didn't know would have thought she was going to marry a prince and become his daughter-in-law.
She left, but she had to bring Wen Tang a bad reputation. Bullying her elder sister and coveting her brother-in-law—a reputation that could kill. Those gossipers only dared to stare at Wen Tang and make up stories, so who would dare to criticize me?
All the curses, contempt, and malicious speculation were directed at Wen Tang, the sister-in-law. In this world, why should blood be shed when killing? Rumors are enough to crush a woman's bones and flesh. If it were someone more ruthless, carrying this reputation, she would have been dead long ago.
Wen Zhiyi, what are you trying to achieve?
The legitimate mother of the Bo family, who always flattered the powerful and looked down on the weak and cared most about the family's reputation, actually allowed her to act like this.
Mrs. Zhou couldn't help but grumble, "Grandma, what do you think she's trying to achieve?"
Wen Tang raised his eyelashes, his eyes now clear as water, reflecting the candlelight: "She has her own goals, and we have ours. It would be best if we don't interfere with each other and live in peace."
His tone was relaxed and calm, as if he was talking about something very natural.
Mrs. Zhou knew that Wen Tang had no intention of continuing the conversation.
It was late at night, and the ticking of the night watchman echoed in the silence.
At this time usually, Uncle Qin should be back.
Wen Tang breathed a sigh of relief. A busy day, with children, household duties, social obligations, and that little incident with Qin Ruoyue, had indeed been exhausting. However, as the principal wife of the eldest son, she was always aware of her duties. Until her nominal husband returned, the lights in the main courtyard must remain lit, and she was expected to maintain her composure. Over the past four years, she had cultivated this respectability like carefully tending the flowers and trees in a garden, ensuring their flourishing and unimpeded growth.
But these past few days, Qin Gong's return time had become increasingly uncertain. It was midnight the day before yesterday, and tonight? It might be even later.
The capital is heavily guarded, and the news of the hunt for the remnants of the former princes is in full swing, causing an uproar in the city. Everyone is saying that some of the remnants have escaped the net and may sneak into the capital soon.
As the emperor's trusted confidant and informant, Qin Gong must be involved in such a major case.
As a wife, she only needs to know her husband's whereabouts and not worry about it all the time. When she needs to know, she will know.
The deeper the night, the heavier the dew.
Wen Tang glanced out the window at the thick night, estimated the time, and in a soft but clear voice, instructed the maidservant standing by: "Baochun, go and heat up a pot of fresh tea. Ask for the Songluo tea that the master is used to drinking, and also prepare some soft and easily digestible cakes."
Four years of marriage were enough to turn unfamiliarity into tacit understanding, and rules into habits. Wen Tang had already mastered the "waiting for her husband" process with a smooth, unhurried flow. When he pushed open the door, she offered him a perfectly balanced, gentle smile, casually taking his dew-soaked coat and handing it to a servant. Then, she gently reminded him that hot water was ready. If he still had energy, she would let him go; if he was exhausted, they would both go to bed. She struck the perfect balance.
Wen Tang has been using this procedure for several years and is very familiar with it.
Because of this procedure, she, the wife who entered the family with the stigma of "sister-in-law marrying in place of her husband", was able to create a harmonious relationship of mutual respect with her powerful and unpredictable husband.
Now, those once-popular words of "coquettishness" and "shamelessness" have long been swept into the dust, and no one dares to embarrass her in person anymore. Even if there are still a few unpleasant murmurs in private, they will be quickly pulled out and forced to apologize in front of her.
Now she has both a son and a daughter, and the man beside her is a close minister of the emperor, holding great power.
This day should be full of flowers, peace and prosperity from inside to outside.
She should be satisfied.
What's wrong with just living a decent life like this?
Is it really okay?
real.
She lowered her eyes; it had to be true.
--
The candlelight occasionally crackled softly, a sound that was particularly clear in the silent room. Mrs. Zhou had long been sent away by Wen Tang to rest, leaving only Baochun, the newly assigned maid, to guard the room.
It was almost midnight, and Qin Gong still hadn't returned.
Wen Tang sat alone in an armchair, the delicate round fan of Concubine Xiang in his hand half covering his face, the cool warmth of the fan ribs pressing against his forehead, his sleeves sliding down, revealing his fair wrists.
Baochun gently replaced the cold tea, and Wen Tang raised his eyes and said, "That's enough. You can go down now."
"Grandma," Baochun asked softly, "Master hasn't come back yet. Do you want to reheat the tea later?"
Wen Tang shook his head: "No need, go down and rest. It's late at night, and the master likes quiet when he comes back. I will wait alone. If you need me, I will call for help."
The night was indeed falling heavily, and even Baochun, who was used to staying up late, felt his eyelids were heavy as lead.
Wen Tang's eyes swept across the corner of the table: "Take that plate of pine nut cake to cushion your appetite." She also casually gave him a few silver coins.
Baochun's heart suddenly felt warm, and his sleepiness was immediately dispelled by this sudden care and benefit. He quickly bowed to express his gratitude.
She had just been assigned to this courtyard yesterday to serve the Grandmother. It was completely different from the menial yard she had previously worked in. The head nanny here, though loud-voiced and sturdy, was straightforward and fair. The maids in the same courtyard also rotated according to the rules, and no one took advantage of their seniority to bully the newcomers. And this Grandmother, who was rumored to have a bad reputation...
Before the arrival of spring, all I could hear was dirty gossip about my sister-in-law and brother-in-law. But when my uncle returned home last night, he saw something completely different. The eldest grandmother was methodical and meticulous in her arrangements, managing everything in the courtyard with care and consideration. She didn't seem as frivolous or sycophantic as the rumors had suggested, but rather someone who valued decorum.
She remembered clearly that when her grandfather returned last night, her grandmother had immediately changed out of the light pink gauze dress she'd worn during the day to stay cool and donned a dark green formal suit. Her back was straight, her clothes tightly fastened, and she looked as solemn as if she were meeting an important guest. Even on a sweltering summer night, her collar was buttoned meticulously. Her almost rigid demeanor was a world away from the image she'd been portrayed in gossip.
Later, the old man picked up the grandmother and carried her to the inner room. This morning, when making the bed, Baochun clearly saw that several buttons on the front of the dark green dress had broken threads and were hanging down.
Nanny Zhou had specifically reminded the eldest lady to change her clothes at night.
Baochun, holding the plate of cakes and silver coins, asked before leaving, "Grandma, are you still going to wear dark green tonight?"
The chirping of cicadas on summer nights seems even more depressing.
The fan in Wen Tang's hand paused slightly, as if she remembered something, then she slowly shook her head: "A darker color."
"So, dark blue?"
"Um."
This is not because Baochun is alert himself, but because the grandmother's formal attire is mainly composed of these two dark colors.
In fact, Baochun secretly thought in his heart that the pink gauze dress of the grandmother was light and delicate, which made her skin whiter than snow and her waist slender and soft. She looked so beautiful.
Maybe you will like it more?
With quick movements, Baochun brought out the dark blue suit and put it on the rosewood hanger.
The deep blue appears particularly heavy under the dancing candlelight.
Although there were several basins of crystal clear ice in the hall, creating a cool breeze, the heat that had accumulated during the day had not yet dissipated, and the stuffy and sticky feeling could not be dispelled.
Wen Tang stood up, walked behind the screen, untied the belt with her fingertips, and the soft pink gauze dress slid down her round shoulders and rested on the edge of the screen.
The screen was made of semi-transparent mica, and the candlelight easily penetrated through it, blurring the outline of the figure behind the screen, who was only wearing a tight-fitting dress, into a hazy silhouette. The figure had the unique plumpness of postpartum motherhood, but also revealed a bit of unspeakable fragility.
Although she has left the confinement period, her breast engorgement is still uncomfortable. Other women may have recovered long ago, but she still feels swollen there.
Wen Tang, as usual, felt a little irritated and fumbled for the thin strap of her red bellyband on her back with her backhand. With a flick of her fingertips, the restraint loosened.
The slender white fingers showed a bit of clumsiness and alienation from their own bodies.
"Crack"
There was a sudden noise at the door.
The silhouette behind the screen suddenly froze.
Wen Tang looked up in surprise.
Through the hazy, semi-transparent screen, a tall and familiar figure, wrapped in the night tide, has stepped into the inner room.