Mu Baihu had followed Wang Qianhu since his youth, rising from an ordinary soldier to hundred-household rank, all through Wang Qianhu’s promotion. Wang Qianhu was his benefactor.

After losing his wife, he didn’t remarry and had no children, living alone and focusing on being Wang Qianhu’s right-hand man. Wang Qianhu gave him a courtyard in Wang Manor to live in. During festivals and holidays, Mu Baihu always spent them with the Wang family, like a member of the household.

In Wang Daxia’s eyes, Mu Baihu was like a dear uncle.

Wu Shi and Mu Baihu were also very familiar. With Mu Baihu living in Wang Manor, Wu Shi had servants take good care of his daily needs, treating him like a brother-in-law.

When Wang Qianhu was stripped of his position, Mu Baihu lost his patron and was quickly squeezed out of the Northern City Military Commissioner’s office, reduced to commoner status.

After Wang Qianhu’s death, his widow Wu Shi was at a complete loss, only knowing to hold her toddling son Wang Daqiu and weep. Wang Daxia didn’t understand household affairs and knew nothing about such matters, so Mu Baihu single-handedly arranged the funeral.

At Wang Qianhu’s mourning hall, Madam Wang Wu Shi and her stepson Wang Daxia predictably had a huge fight, nearly missing the auspicious time for the funeral procession. Fortunately, Mu Baihu rushed over to “put out the fire,” separating them, so Wang Qianhu’s coffin was buried on time.

In grief and anger, Wang Daxia took the extreme step of castrating himself with a blade. Mu Baihu scolded him for being foolish and disgracing the Wang family name, but still used all his savings and former connections to bribe powerful eunuchs in the palace, sending him to serve as a palace eunuch.

Therefore, Wang Daxia was always grateful to Mu Baihu.

Wu Shi became a widow and returned to her natal family with her young son for mourning. But her natal family wouldn’t tolerate them, thinking this mother and son were freeloaders, growing increasingly disdainful.

Wu Shi’s natal family were all social climbers—of course, Wu Shi, who grew up in that environment, was the same, no good person either.

Originally, the Wu family knew Wang Daxia had a reputation as one of the Northern City’s Four Scourges, yet still married their beautiful young daughter to Wang Qianhu as his second wife—a man old enough to be Wu Shi’s father—just to curry favor with the powerful as a patron, practically selling their daughter.

Wu Shi was also enticed by becoming the household mistress upon marriage, having money and power, and the status of a fourth-rank lady. After secretly glimpsing Wang Qianhu through a curtain—though old enough to be her father, he was tall, imposing, dignified, and mature—she immediately agreed shyly to become his second wife, marrying into Wang Manor to become stepmother to the notorious Wang Yanei.

Initially, Wu Shi was satisfied with her new married life, but human hearts are never content. After Wu Shi gave birth to Wang Daqiu, she saw stepson Wang Daxia as a thorn in her side—because future inheritance went to the legitimate eldest son, leaving her son without a title.

Wu Shi wanted to squeeze Wang Daxia out, frequently complaining to her husband that Wang Daxia was disrespectful to her, driving a wedge between father and son.

Of course, Wu Shi wasn’t lying. Wang Daxia truly looked down on her, repeatedly showing disrespect, and correctly guessing her intention to push him out so her biological son Wang Daqiu could inherit the title, naturally becoming even more disrespectful.

Between his gentle young wife and his troublemaking wastrel son, Wang Qianhu’s heart naturally favored his young wife.

Wu Shi said she worried Wang Daxia spent money like water and frequented gambling dens—what if he squandered his birth mother’s dowry? So Wang Qianhu had Wu Shi manage it instead.

Wu Shi deliberately rented out the house cheaply to provoke Wang Daxia into harassing tenants, making his already poor reputation even worse.

Wang Daxia naturally refused to accept this, repeatedly driving away prospective tenants and stealing his mother’s property deeds.

Actually, Wu Shi knew of Wang Daxia’s actions. She deliberately “carelessly” revealed where the contracts were hidden, luring Wang Daxia to steal them. After all, they weren’t hers—when the matter was exposed, how disappointed would her husband be in Wang Daxia!

Once Wang Daxia exhausted her husband’s patience and was driven from home with his name struck from the family registry, the title would fall to her son Wang Daqiu.

However, Wang Qianhu wasn’t foolish. Everyone knew deposing the eldest for the youngest was taboo and the root of family chaos. He only hoped to strictly discipline the wastrel and mend the fold, wanting Wang Daxia to walk the right path.

When Wu Shi was still Madam Wang, she could swagger at her natal home. Each time she returned with her young son, she commanded her sisters-in-law like servants, demanding the stars if not the moon, loving to hear flattery, turning her homecomings into imperial-style visits.

The Wu family endured and pleased this arrogant aunt to benefit from Wang family connections. Now that Wang Manor had fallen and the tree had toppled, who would still support this aunt with her burden?

Wu Shi became picky at her natal home, but her siblings no longer humored her. Even servants followed suit, fawning on the powerful and trampling the weak. When Wu Shi complained that the kitchen didn’t stew Wang Daqiu’s meat tender enough for him to chew and scolded the cook, the cook talked back:

“I advise our aunt to calm down! Which widow in mourning doesn’t eat vegetarian food and chant Buddha’s name? Our aunt should be grateful to have meat at all!”

Wu Shi lunged to hit her, but watching sisters-in-law stopped her: “Now that our aunt isn’t a lady of rank anymore, don’t put on official airs. Eating at your natal family, living at your natal family, yet wanting to beat your natal family’s servants—what kind of behavior is this?”

Her natal family practically had the word “disdain” written on their faces.

Afterward, Wu Shi’s days became even harder. Even servants looked down on her with cold mockery, while her siblings wouldn’t defend her. Living under others’ roofs, she had been raised in luxury and couldn’t go out to support herself and her child independently, so she could only endure helplessly.

When Wang Daqiu fell ill with persistent high fever, Wu Shi wanted to summon an imperial physician. At Wang Manor, any headache or cold meant paying handsomely for imperial physicians.

The Wu family mocked: “Just a child—what imperial physician? Don’t shorten his lifespan!”

Wu Shi’s dowry had long been half-swindled, half-robbed by her siblings, leaving her no private funds. Wang Daxia was deep in the palace and unreachable, so Wu Shi ran to find Mu Baihu for help.

After arranging Wang Qianhu’s funeral and spending money to send Wang Daxia to serve as a palace eunuch, Mu Baihu had little left. He went to work as an escort at Santong Escort Agency to earn a living, traveling far and wide transporting goods, having just returned to the capital.

Mu Baihu immediately used his wages to hire an imperial physician for Wang Daqiu. Seeing the orphan and widow’s hardship under Wu family oppression, he rented a country estate and took Wu Shi and Wang Daqiu there, supporting this mother and son through his escort work.

Each time he returned to the capital and received wages, Mu Baihu would bring money to the orphaned widow.

Through this ordeal, Wu Shi saw her natal family’s true nature and surprisingly gained enlightenment, no longer vain and arrogant as before, no longer scheming for advantages, but living honestly.

Wu Shi fed pigs and chickens, tended vegetable gardens, becoming self-sufficient. In her spare time, she spun thread and wove cloth. Besides buying grain, spinning wheels, and other necessities, she saved all the money Mu Baihu gave her for Wang Daqiu’s future education.

Mu Baihu was amazed by Wu Shi’s transformation. He had been crystal clear about those underhanded tactics Wu Shi used against Wang Daxia previously, but as an outsider, he couldn’t speak plainly to Wang Qianhu, only trying to mediate between father and son.

When Wu Shi was scorned and humiliated by her natal family, Mu Baihu thought it served her right—Wu Shi’s evil heart deserved such retribution.

Later, when Mu Baihu helped Wu Shi and her son establish their own household, it was only out of concern for Wang Qianhu’s orphan Wang Daqiu.

After all, the child was innocent, and Wang Qianhu had shown him kindness.

Now Wu Shi had completely changed. Each time Mu Baihu returned from escort work, Wu Shi gave him newly made shoes and homemade preserved pork: “My needlework is poor—I can’t tailor clothes or embroider, only make shoes. You travel far and wide with irregular meals. Keep this preserved pork for the road—it stays good for a month.”

Learning Mu Baihu was leaving for escort work, she’d work through the night preparing a pot of tea eggs: “From my own chickens’ eggs—they cost nothing.”

Thus the three-year mourning period passed, and Mu Baihu and Wu Shi developed mutual affection.

But her natal family didn’t plan to let Wu Shi go—she was only twenty-one, beautiful, fertile, and now had the added virtue of thrifty housekeeping. Her siblings planned to “sell” Wu Shi again for more betrothal gifts.

Her brother and sister-in-law came to the countryside with gifts. Her elder brother said: “You’re so young—what’s this mourning about! While you’re young and beautiful with looks intact, quickly find an old man to marry as his second wife. Enjoy fine food and drink with a crowd of servants attending you, living in luxury—better than feeding pigs and chickens as a peasant woman in the countryside.”

Sister-in-law said: “Women with stepchildren have trouble remarrying—men don’t want to be convenient fathers. I’ll solve this problem for you by helping raise Daqiu and ensuring he succeeds.”

In the past, Wu Shi would have been tempted, but now she saw through her natal family’s scheme: marry her off for betrothal gifts, keep Wang Daqiu at the Wu family as a hostage—whenever siblings demanded things later, would she dare refuse? Refusing meant tormenting Wang Daqiu.

Tsk tsk, planning to “have their fish and eat it too”—one steamed, one braised.

So Wu Shi grabbed her laundry paddle and chased her siblings away.

Unwilling to give up, her siblings sent matchmakers to propose marriages, all beaten and scolded away by Wu Shi.

By now, her siblings had chosen a sixty-plus-year-old military officer who fancied Wu Shi’s beauty and was willing to pay five hundred taels silver in betrothal gifts.

Her siblings even gave Wu Shi’s birth chart to the old man, planning to settle the marriage first—once the rice was cooked, Wu Shi would reluctantly comply.

With Mu Baihu away on escort duty and no one to rely on, Wu Shi could only save herself. She steeled her heart, entrusted Wang Daqiu to a village family’s care, and returned to her natal home with a cleaver and cutting board.

Wu Shi began cursing in the streets near her natal home!

Left hand holding the cleaver, right hand the cutting board, she chopped the board with the blade’s back after each curse like percussion accompaniment. Cursing as she chopped, all manner of foul language poured forth, denouncing her siblings as heartless wolves selling their sister for glory and wealth, cursing them to die horrible deaths.

The formerly delicate, haughty evil stepmother had become a street shrew fighting for survival.

Crowds gathered to watch—truly emptying the streets. The Wu family was too ashamed to open their doors.

Hearing of this, the old man thought: How could these old bones control such a shrew? Wouldn’t this shrew chop me up? Forget it—he had the matchmaker return the betrothal gifts and cancel the engagement.

The cooked duck flew away with face completely lost. Her siblings swore to teach this shrew a lesson: giving you face but you won’t take it, so be it… They had matchmakers spread word that anyone willing to marry Wu Shi would receive not only no betrothal gifts from the Wu family but additional dowry.

Widows’ doors attract gossip. Wu Shi’s door knew no peace thereafter. Those bachelors who couldn’t find wives—street idlers, village old bachelors, and scoundrels—all came to harass her.

Wu Shi stayed behind closed doors, but they stole her chickens, destroyed her vegetable garden, and even drove her pig into the river to drown.

Wu Shi was nearly driven to breakdown. Adults could endure, but children couldn’t. Four-year-old Wang Daqiu was terrified by the outside commotion and developed another fever. Wu Shi thought desperately—this couldn’t continue. Taking advantage of the empty night, she secretly left the village with her child, entering the city at dawn to the eunuch’s residence where she’d once sent stepson Wang Daxia to the palace, begging the eunuch to carry word to Wang Daxia to save his little brother.

By then, Wang Daxia had graduated with top honors from the Directorate of Ceremonial’s internal academy and was chosen by Wei Caiwei to become her companion husband.

Of course, seventeen-year-old Wang Daxia was viewed by palace folk as merely a “pretty boy living off a woman.” Through his wife Wei Caiwei being Lady Shang Shou’s head female official, he’d just graduated from the internal academy when Lady Shang Shou recommended him to serve before the emperor, working for Emperor Jiajing.

Wang Daxia was talented in both civil and military arts, clever and capable, handsome, and had Lady Shang Shou as backing. He quickly gained Emperor Jiajing’s favor, becoming a palace favorite.

For ordinary eunuchs, they might not see the emperor’s face even after decades of service!

Sigh, women are shallow, only looking at appearances, choosing whoever looks good.

Learning of his stepmother and half-brother’s plight, Wang Daxia first found Wei Caiwei and told her: “We are husband and wife after all. I can’t hide my family’s messy accounts from you, lest someone use this against you.”

Wei Caiwei had suffered hardship in childhood, living in the countryside with her sister—two official slaves, one big, one small, enduring endless bullying.

Wei Caiwei said: “Handle it yourself. I can’t tolerate bullying orphans and widows.”

Wang Daxia left the palace, settled Wu Shi and her son somewhere safe, then moved against the Wu family.

He’d always detested these relatives who frequently came to Wang Manor for handouts and encouraged stepmother Wu Shi to usurp his inheritance. Now unleashing his revenge felt wonderfully satisfying.

Uncle Wu worked at the Court of Imperial Sacrifices, managing the Great Garden horse ranch, often secretly leading Great Garden fine horses out to breed with livestock traders’ mares for profit.

Military horses were important national resources—stealing horse semen was a grave crime. To save costs, ranches kept limited stallions, with each stallion serving hundreds of Great Garden mares to maintain pure bloodlines.

The Great Garden mares already weren’t enough to go around, yet Uncle Wu led Great Garden stallions to service outside mares—this was like “prostitution,” forcing good horses into whoredom!

Wang Daxia caught him “red-handed in the stable” with solid evidence. Uncle Wu lost his position, had his property confiscated, and his whole family was exiled to frontier horse ranches. Wu Shi and her son could finally live in peace.

Wu Shi kowtowed to Wang Daxia in apology, regretting her past actions driving wedges between father and son.

Wang Daxia still couldn’t forgive Wu Shi’s deeds: “I’m doing this for Daqiu, not you. Behave yourself.”

Wu Shi refused to live in the house Wang Daxia provided, still taking Wang Daqiu back to the countryside.

By year’s end, Wang Daxia brought a wedding invitation to Wei Caiwei: “Uncle Mu is getting married the day after tomorrow. I want to send a gift and toast the couple. The wedding is at night—I can’t return to the palace and must stay at our outside residence.”

Companion couples like Wang Daxia and Wei Caiwei had mansions both inside and outside the palace. When not on duty, they lived in their outside mansions with servants, like high official households.

Wang Daxia was very frank—living off a woman meant acting like it, serving his wife like a superior, promptly reporting and clearly explaining his activities.

When encountering sarcastic mockery, he said unblushingly that living off a woman tasted quite good—pity you can’t have a taste.

Wei Caiwei opened the invitation: “Your Uncle Mu is nearly fifty—which family’s daughter is he marrying?”

Wang Daxia hesitated: “He’s marrying my stepmother Wu Shi.”

Pfft!

Wei Caiwei was drinking tea and nearly spat it out, but constrained by etiquette, she forcibly shut her mouth, causing tea to flow back into her windpipe.

Wei Caiwei coughed violently as Wang Daxia gently patted her back: “Actually, I don’t approve of this marriage, but they’re mutually willing. Uncle Mu treats Daqiu like his own son—I can’t say anything. Uncle Mu has shown me kindness. When he remarries and sends me an invitation, I can’t not go offer blessings.”

Wei Caiwei became interested in this couple who’d endured twists and hardships, wanting to see them in person. Closing the invitation: “We’ll send a grand gift in our couple’s name. I’ll join the festivities the day after tomorrow too.”

Wang Daxia was very surprised. He’d always felt like someone living off a woman, inferior to his wife, but Wei Caiwei’s gesture treated him as an equal husband with respect, willing to attend his only acknowledged elder’s wedding to give him face.

The couple attended the wedding together. The bride and groom were an old husband and young wife, with the young wife being the former superior’s wife—naturally drawing many strange looks.

But when the companion couple Wang Daxia and Wei Caiwei appeared at the wedding, they immediately attracted all the strange looks!

Companion couples versus old husband-young wife—truly evenly matched, like arsenic versus crane’s crest red, unclear which was more toxic.

Seeing Wei Caiwei’s elegance, Mu Baihu began doubting whether Wang Daxia’s self-castration was right or wrong. This troublemaker he’d watched grow up had used another method to establish himself and rise rapidly, bringing his wife to see him.

In the bridal chamber, Wei Caiwei saw bride Wu Shi and understood why Wang Qianhu always protected his young wife: she was beautiful. Wu Shi was indeed a beauty. Men are that consistent—regardless of age, they love youth and beauty.

Wu Shi had married twice and endured hardships, showing no shyness, graciously attending to female guests. Seeing busy Wu Shi, Wei Caiwei couldn’t help thinking of her poor sister.

Wu Shi had lived alone in the countryside with her four-year-old son.

Her sister had once lived in the countryside with seven-year-old her, learning farm work for independence.

If her sister could have had help escaping Chen Dalang’s clutches like Wu Shi received aid, she wouldn’t have been violated by Chen Dalang and died in agony on the birthing bed…

If her sister were still alive, she’d be thirty-two this year, married with children surrounding her knees.

But seven-year-old me was a burden, unable to help sister.

Wei Caiwei drank quite a bit that night, supported by Wang Daxia to the carriage.

Returning home, Wang Daxia carried the drunk Wei Caiwei to the bedroom. They were companion spouses united for mutual benefit, always sleeping in separate beds.

Wei Caiwei slept on the bed while Wang Daxia, living off a woman, hugged his bedding like a servant, sleeping on the large kang by the window, ready for duty.

Whether Wei Caiwei needed the chamber pot at night, water when thirsty, or mosquito swatting when bugs entered the bed curtains—Wang Daxia served her.

Wang Daxia placed Wei Caiwei on the bed, skillfully removing her shoes, hair ornaments and jewelry, outer clothes, covering her with quilts, placing a warming bottle by her feet. Then he hugged his bedding to sleep on the kang.

“Stay tonight.”

Suddenly, Wei Caiwei’s pale hand emerged from the quilt, grabbing his clothing corner.

Wang Daxia’s body stiffened: “I’ll sleep on the large kang by the window—I’m not leaving.”

His wife was probably drunk and confused. Unless he was out on business, he slept in her room every night.

Wei Caiwei said: “Sleep on the bed.”

Living off a woman meant obeying his wife.

Wang Daxia spread his quilt on the bed, sleeping beside Wei Caiwei: “Call me if you want water or feel uncomfortable.”

Wei Caiwei said: “I’m a bit sore. Help me massage.”

Living off a woman meant massage skills were essential.

Wang Daxia immediately sat up, kneeling on the bed, reaching under the quilt to massage Wei Caiwei: “Is this pressure okay?”

Wei Caiwei hummed—should be just right.

Wang Daxia gently kneaded from shoulders to ankles. Reaching her toes, he asked: “Your feet are a bit dry. Should I apply some balm and rub them?”

Wei Caiwei hummed again.

Wang Daxia massaged her jade feet until fragrant. Wei Caiwei’s breathing gradually became even. Thinking she’d fallen asleep, Wang Daxia stopped, got down to wash his hands, then lay beside her again.

Wei Caiwei turned over, her head rolling into Wang Daxia’s shoulder hollow.

Living off a woman meant naturally providing his shoulder as his wife’s pillow.

Wang Daxia had the consciousness of someone living off a woman, not pushing Wei Caiwei’s head back to her own pillow.

Wei Caiwei stretched out her right hand, embracing his neck, seemingly using his head as a pillow, her scattered hair brushing against his neck, tickling persistently, tickling straight to his heart.

This wasn’t enough—Wei Caiwei’s breath was right against his ear, the eartip instantly changing color, red as dripping blood.

Wang Daxia had improper thoughts, but as someone living off a woman, he couldn’t take advantage of his drunk wife, so he gently pushed Wei Caiwei back to the inner side of the bed.

When Wei Caiwei’s head returned to the pillow, she opened her eyes.

Their eyes met. Feeling his wife’s gaze held some killing intent, Wang Daxia quickly explained: “I didn’t do anything. You told me to sleep on the bed—don’t deny it when you’re sober. You really said it.”

Wei Caiwei said: “Come closer, nearer.”

Wang Daxia leaned down: “What is it? Just give your orders.”

Wei Caiwei said: “Closer still.”

Wang Daxia continued leaning forward, face to face, their noses nearly touching.

Wei Caiwei: “Closer still.”

Any closer would bump his wife’s nose—how could someone living off a woman hurt his wife’s nose?

Wang Daxia consciously shifted up slightly, their noses fitting perfectly together.

Wei Caiwei thought: Continuing such hints might last until dawn, and spring nights are short.

Wei Caiwei lifted her head and kissed his lips.

Author’s Note: Lan Zhou: Is living off a woman delicious?

Wang Daxia: Truly fragrant! Another bowl please!

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