Zhou Sui’an swallowed twice. Though he had half a mind to scold her for the crudeness of her words, under Chu Linlang’s relentless gaze he wilted, and gave a small nod.

Yet he still felt compelled to offer an explanation: “It was only once. That time, I had drunk too much, and Miss Xie… she came to me willingly. I lost control for a moment and…”

At this point, Zhou Sui’an seized Chu Linlang’s shoulders and choked out: “Linlang, this time you have to think of something — you have to save me!”

Chu Linlang couldn’t tell how she was managing to stay calm enough to ask: “Save you from what? Poor constitution — couldn’t perform in her bed?”

Zhou Sui’an didn’t even register the insult; he said urgently: “Right after you all arrived in the capital, the second Miss Xie had her maid send me a message saying… saying her monthly cycle hadn’t come, and she might be with child. What am I supposed to do?”

Chu Linlang almost laughed. So it really was she who had been blocking the Zhou family’s line of succession — apart from her, the master was apparently bearing fruit everywhere he went.

She simply asked, her tone numb: “What does the second Miss Xie intend? Does she want you to find a physician to help her end the pregnancy quietly and cover up the scandal?”

Zhou Sui’an had been trapped in an impossible corner by Xie Youran these past weeks. In his mind, this had been nothing more than an accident — a drunken mistake.

He had known when he sobered up that he had stumbled into catastrophic trouble. This second Miss Xie was in the middle of negotiating a marriage with a young man from the Wang family — what business did any of this have with him?

But then Xie Youran had simply latched onto him, keeping a closer watch on him than even Chu Linlang, his own legitimate wife. She had made him carry the sachet she had embroidered at all times, and even forbade him from sharing a room with his wife or concubine.

With this hold she had over him, he was backed into a corner with nowhere to turn, lying awake every night. Now that he finally had someone to talk to, he raised his eyes to look at Chu Linlang, clenched his teeth, and said: “She… she wants me to go to her father and seek a formal engagement with the Xie family…”

Chu Linlang heard this and first gave a low, quiet laugh — then the laughter grew louder.

This sudden burst of laughter made Zhou Sui’an’s skin crawl. He looked up at his wife in growing alarm.

Chu Linlang laughed herself out, and her face settled into a chill, cold and composed: “She is the Sixth Prince’s consort’s own younger sister — a proper young lady of the capital, not some widow of a minor rural official. If she’s asking you to propose, is she prepared to come to our Zhou household as a concubine?”

Zhou Sui’an, fully in the wrong at this moment, couldn’t muster any bravado, and only replied in a low voice: “She… she says that taking a concubine position — even if her father would accept it, the Sixth Prince’s side certainly won’t.”

“So what she means,” Chu Linlang continued, ice in her voice, “is that she intends to enter the Zhou household as the wife, and I — the original wife who has produced no children — am to step aside and make way for this young lady of the Xie family. Is that it?”

These words were ones Zhou Sui’an himself could barely bring himself to say aloud. But when it came to household matters, he had always relied on Chu Linlang.

She had always treated him with tender concern. Surely she would devise some elegant solution. As long as Chu Linlang put her mind to it, she would certainly find a way — either to quietly persuade the unyielding Xie Youran, or, moved by her virtue, to put the Zhou family’s bloodline above herself, step aside voluntarily in the manner of women in the operas, and graciously cede her position as wife to become a concubine, making way for a beautiful arrangement.

Chu Linlang looked at the man she had once loved dearly as he gazed back at her with eyes full of hope — and she could restrain herself no longer. She raised her hand and slapped Zhou Sui’an across the face with every ounce of strength she had.

The blow was so forceful that Zhou Sui’an’s face twisted sideways. He stared at her in furious disbelief, clutching his cheek: “You… how dare you strike me?”

Chu Linlang looked at the man before her — now entirely a stranger — and laughed even as tears fell: “Others may not know my suffering, but can you, Zhou Sui’an, honestly claim you don’t? For as long as I have lived, I would rather be a servant than be a concubine to any man! Yet you… you have driven me to exactly this position. Zhou Sui’an — have you treated me with any decency?”

Zhou Sui’an did feel shame. Watching Chu Linlang erupt in righteous fury, he could no longer hold together the composure of a gentleman, and pressed his hand to his cheek, deflated and desolate: “Then what is to be done? Do you mean to press me to death as well?”

Chu Linlang’s mind was in chaos. She had no desire to keep speaking to this man, so she simply left him where he stood, pushed open the door, and strode into a side room to sleep.

Xia He and Dongxue hurried after her. In all the years they had served the Young Mistress through her marriage to the Zhou master, they had never once witnessed her lose her temper like this.

It had always been the master who would throw his moods, and the Young Mistress who would patiently follow along behind him, softening things and coaxing him back.

They had only been standing outside the door just now, catching only fragments of words — and the thunderous crack of a palm strike.

They weren’t sure how to offer comfort, and could only urge the Young Mistress to calm her anger, that making such a scene wasn’t the way.

But Chu Linlang knew that she was not throwing a jealous, petty tantrum. Zhou Sui’an had broken her heart — and once again, she had been forced by fate into a corner with no way out.

This feeling of hopelessness was like returning to that night in her youth when she had nearly been bundled into a sedan chair against her will.

The agony of that moment — the desire to bring everything crashing down, the despair, the fury — she had believed she would never feel those things so vividly again. Yet now it all came rushing back, coursing and flooding through her body.

After lying in the side room for a while, Chu Linlang sat up, turned over, and pushed the window open.

Deep autumn had settled over the courtyard. The chrysanthemums there had wilted and shriveled on their stems, with not a trace of green remaining.

Her own road ahead was about to enter a cold winter path — with no way to retreat, only forward, alone…

The next morning, Zhou Sui’an rose without spirit and left for court.

He was not worried that Chu Linlang would storm recklessly over to the Xie family and cause a scene. After all, Chu Linlang had always put his official career first.

It was just that the second Miss Xie had issued him an ultimatum: if he still refused to bring the matter into the open with his family, she would go speak to Chu Linlang herself.

Both women were the stubborn, unmanageable sort. As for what might come of such a conversation, Zhou Sui’an didn’t want to think about it.

Now that Chu Linlang had discovered everything and brought it into the open herself, he felt a secret, quiet relief — as though a burning potato had been tossed away, and there was nothing left for him to manage.

All that remained was to leave it to fate and let the two of them fight it out.

Sure enough, just as Zhou Sui’an had predicted, after he informed Xie Youran of events, Chu Linlang received an invitation card from Xie Youran — an invitation to meet at the Wanghu Restaurant on the western outskirts of the city.

Chu Linlang took the card and read it, then did not accept immediately. She told the messenger boy that she had no time today, and if Miss Xie could wait, she would come to the restaurant in five days.

It wasn’t as though she were the one carrying the child — she saw no reason to rush.

After giving this response to Miss Xie, Chu Linlang sent word to her elder sister, asking if she had time to accompany her on a stroll around the capital.

Chu Jinyin was naturally free, and the two of them rode together in a carriage, browsing the streets and enjoying tea.

As they wandered, Chu Jinyin noticed that her younger sister kept looking at shops with “for transfer” signs in the windows, and asked with a smile: “What is this? Is my younger sister thinking of setting up a business in the capital?”

Chu Linlang gave a little smile: “Only looking for now. My funds are tight at the moment — I can’t afford to buy. Besides, I’ve heard it’s not easy to acquire a shop in the capital.”

Chu Jinyin felt a twinge of guilt at the words “funds are tight,” since her younger sister had just lent her a large sum: “That’s true — every shop on a main street in the capital is a daily money-earner. Who would give one up for no reason? And these shops generally circulate among the inner households of the capital’s great families — they rarely flow out to the public… Linlang, if you need money urgently, I can accept a smaller loan. I’ll find another way for the rest.”

She suspected her third sister was having second thoughts and could only ask timidly.

Chu Linlang knew her elder sister had misunderstood, and only shook her head with a smile: “Since I promised, I won’t go back on my word. And I won’t need what I lent you anytime soon.”

Reassured, Chu Jinyin relaxed, and spent the rest of the time telling her younger sister about the business her husband was currently running.

Chu Linlang listened, though her gaze kept drifting away into the distance — quite clearly, her mind was elsewhere.

Chu Jinyin studied her face and silently sighed. She could vaguely guess what was troubling Chu Linlang, but there was nothing she could do to help.

She could only hope that her brother-in-law would not forget where he had come from — that he wouldn’t be like her own husband’s associate, who had discarded his wife the moment he rose to prosperity.

Two more days passed in this way, with Chu Linlang leaving early and returning late. Zhou Sui’an tried on several occasions to speak with her, but Chu Linlang gave him no opening and simply avoided him.

On the fifth day, Chu Linlang rose early. After washing and dressing, however, she made no move to go out, and simply had Xia He bring out a dish of melon seeds to crack and eat at her leisure.

It was only when the appointed time was nearly upon her that she slowly made her way out, arriving at the restaurant half an hour past the agreed time.

When she entered the private room, Xie Youran had been waiting so long that her face was taut and her nerves frayed.

Because her parents had neglected her when she was young, they had overcompensated after taking her back into the household, showering her with indulgence that had altogether ruined her temperament. She had grown accustomed to believing the world owed her everything — her parents included.

With Chu Linlang, it was the same: whatever guilt she had felt had by now been completely burned away. She looked at her, quite impolitely, and said: “Madam Chu, you are late.”

Chu Linlang removed her veiled hat and took her seat at the table with perfect composure, saying lightly: “Second Miss Xie did not come here for hot dishes and wine — arriving early or late makes no difference.”

From what Zhou Sui’an had told her, Xie Youran had been expecting Chu Linlang to cry, shout, or curse at her upon learning of the affair. What she had never anticipated was that a mere daughter of a minor salt merchant — a concubine’s daughter at that — upon discovering that her devoted husband had been carrying on behind her back, would greet her with an expression of absolute composure and not the slightest trace of agitation.

This caught Xie Youran off guard, and she involuntarily dialed back some of her heat, compressing her lips before saying: “Sui’an must have told you everything. One drunken night, we made a mistake — and yet found in each other something unexpected, a feeling that could not be suppressed. What is done is done. For the sake of Sui’an’s future and reputation, I hope, Madam, that you will be magnanimous and accommodate us.”

Xie Youran had already made thorough inquiries: this Madam Chu came from a humble background, with no powerful family to rely on. Her marriage to Zhou Sui’an had not even followed the proper rites of betrothal and matchmaking. As long as Chu Linlang was sensible — helped smooth everything over — they could use the absence of a proper betrothal as a pretext to declare the earlier marriage void.

On those grounds, Chu Linlang could relinquish the position of first wife, giving Zhou Sui’an a legitimate explanation to offer before Xie Youran’s parents.

Once the deed was done, her father would have no way to force her into marriage with the Wang family’s lackluster candidate.

Xie Youran was completely set on marrying Zhou Sui’an. His family background might not compare to the Wang family’s prestige, but he had a face like polished jade, a handsome bearing, a gentle temperament, ambition, and a modest but comfortable family fortune — all of which suited Xie Youran’s tastes perfectly.

When it came to men, you truly couldn’t know a man’s character until he married. Take her own father, for instance — a rough military man who spoke to her mother by blowing and glaring, with no consideration whatsoever, and kept a small number of concubines besides.

But Zhou Sui’an, in nearly eight years of marriage, had kept a very clean household — only one concubine, and even she had been forced upon him by his mother.

She had seen how Zhou Sui’an cherished and respected Madam Chu. With the mother-in-law still present in the household, a woman of such low birth as Chu Linlang could still run the household as she pleased — proof that the Zhou family had a tolerant, open-minded style. Being their daughter-in-law would be an enviable comfort.

Zhou Sui’an’s experience with marriage only further proved that he was someone a woman could truly entrust her heart to.

Madam Chu had come from a lowly background, yet the Zhou household had still treated her decently. As for herself — born of a proper family, a full legitimate daughter — once she entered that household, they would certainly treat her with even greater deference.

And what of being the consort’s sister and a princess? From what she had heard, right after her sister’s wedding, the Sixth Prince had gone to investigate Prince Tai’s accounts. The Fourth Prince’s noble consort — who had not yet been sent to the cold palace at the time — had seized on the opportunity to have her sister kneel in punishment before the prince, leaving her nearly prostrated from the heat.

So much for life in the imperial household! The Zhou family, compared to a great noble household with its vicious mother-in-law’s authority and constant control, was a far superior alternative.

Xie Youran was confident that by every measure — birth, learning, appearance — she surpassed Madam Chu by a hundredfold, and that once she moved in, she could manage Zhou Sui’an with ease.

Zhou Sui’an was currently in high favor with the Sixth Prince and had been assigned to the Ministry of Finance. If her father and her brother-in-law continued to promote him, his future was limitless.

As long as Chu Linlang was cooperative and yielding, in Xie Youran’s view, everything could unfold naturally and smoothly. The great scandal would be smoothed over without a trace. She had chosen better than her father — and having come this far, she had no regrets. Once she was married in, she would simply treat Madam Chu and the concubine with a degree of kindness, and that would be that.

Listening to Xie Youran deliver her self-righteous speech, Chu Linlang was unsurprised: a girl from a prominent family had managed to carry on an affair with her elder sister’s married subordinate. The sheer audacity of her boldness and the utter absence of shame were clearly in inverse proportion to each other.

And so she smiled faintly, and said at a leisurely pace: “And if I refuse to step aside?”

Hearing this, Xie Youran was not surprised. She sighed: “I understand you have lived through years of hardship with Sui’an and feel that it is unjust to let it go. But even if you were to create a scene — what would it actually gain you? Even if Sui’an were demoted and sent back to the provinces for conduct unbecoming an official, would he forgive you for it? You’d only end up being cast out for ruining your husband’s career… And I’ve heard that your own father and brothers will not receive you. What would you do then, alone and helpless, with no one to depend on?”

Chu Linlang understood that the details about her father and brothers had most likely been shared by Zhou Sui’an.

The wounds she kept hidden — betrayed by the person once closest to her — had become the blade that others now pressed to her throat.

After learning of Zhou Sui’an and Xie Youran’s entanglement, Chu Linlang had already thought through every possible scenario. Yet she still hadn’t anticipated hearing threats like these from Xie Youran’s own lips.

Then again, perhaps she should have. There was no easier target than a woman who had married far from home, with nowhere to turn.

Anyone with clear eyes could see: whether Chu Linlang exposed the scandal publicly, privately informed the Xie family elders, or appealed to her home village community — in the end, the one who would suffer most was she herself — an unsupported, childless salt merchant’s daughter by a concubine.

In this scandal, everyone would find someone to protect them — but who would protect and spare a thought for her?

Her romantically fickle, weak-willed husband? Her mother-in-law who despised and looked down on her? The Xie family, with the Sixth Prince’s backing?

No matter how it played out — with self-interest at the forefront — they would all look after their own.

Yet even so, Chu Linlang was unwilling to let Xie Youran feel too pleased with herself.

Just as Xie Youran was about to say something more, Chu Linlang set down the teacup in her hands, rose with unhurried grace, walked up close to the second Miss Xie, and — in a sudden, unannounced motion — grabbed her by the hair bun and pressed a small pair of scissors she had concealed in her sleeve against Xie Youran’s throat.

She had risen so slowly and moved with such elegance that when she struck, it came completely without warning — even her own maids Xia He and Dongxue were left gaping. To say nothing of Xie Youran and her maid.

The maid barely managed two cries before Dongxue, reacting with startling speed, hooked an arm around her neck and clamped a hand over her mouth.

Xie Youran wanted to scream, but feared drawing people in, and could only say in a trembling voice: “What… what are you doing?”

Chu Linlang had always had a powerful grip. She seized the second young lady just as she might have hoisted a sack of salt — and those sharp scissor tips showed no mercy as they pressed into the soft flesh.

She smiled faintly, bent down close to Xie Youran’s ear, and said: “Second Miss Xie, a moment ago you spoke of living people and their calculations. But have you considered what a person pushed past all hope, who no longer wishes to live, might do?”

Xie Youran did not dare move. The pain at her throat was entirely real — the force behind it nothing like a bluff.

Chu Linlang turned the scissors slowly, her voice still soft and unhurried: “A person with nothing left to lose can no longer be troubled by anyone’s future. With nothing left to lose, she could very well choose to drag the man and woman who destroyed her down into the grave alongside her. These scissors have been sharpened for a full night. Where do you suppose would be best to cut? The seductive fox’s face that lures in men? Or open the belly and hang the bastard child from the city gates for all to see?”

If Xie Youran had initially suspected this was meant only to frighten her, by now she was thoroughly terrified by the chillingly dark words — her eyes had gone red, and all trace of the arrogance with which she had threatened Chu Linlang moments ago had vanished entirely.

“Madam… Madam Chu, I misspoke just now — everything can be discussed calmly. Why must we both suffer for this? Don’t you have a daughter? If her mother commits murder, how will she ever find a husband?”

It seemed Xie Youran did not know that Yuan’er was not Chu Linlang’s biological child, but a privately born daughter who had been brought into the household.

The master’s discretion was truly remarkable — he would use his wife’s family shame as leverage against her, yet kept his own premarital scandalous secret buried without a trace.

Chu Linlang finally laughed, genuinely amused.

But she had no intention of exposing the master’s secret — those little surprises could be saved for the second Miss Xie to discover gradually in the days ahead.

Satisfied that the scare had thoroughly eliminated any notion Miss Xie might have had of keeping her as a concubine, she slowly withdrew the scissors, and gave the second Miss Xie’s tear-streaked, trembling cheek a light pat: “Just a joke — why the tears? Don’t agitate the baby.”

Xie Youran absolutely did not believe this was a joke.

Because as Chu Linlang turned back to take her seat, she casually drove the tip of the scissors straight down into the tabletop.

Those scissors had truly been sharpened for a full night — they sank deep into the wood.

This was exactly the swagger Chu Linlang had watched the dock bosses use when collecting rent as a child. She had found it tremendously impressive at the time and had secretly practiced the move for quite a while. Who would have thought she’d never had occasion to use it in her youth, only to find purpose for it after marriage and motherhood?

Taking advantage of the moment Chu Linlang had released her, Xie Youran scrambled free and threw herself into the arms of her maid — now free as well.

She had been far too careless. She had never imagined that the gracious, smile-ready, flattery-welcoming Madam Chu could have such a reckless, do-or-die side. As a result — too embarrassed to let word get out — she had carelessly brought only a personal maid upstairs.

Chu Linlang looked at the two trembling quails clinging together before her. She felt considerably better, and pointed to the chairs with a command: “Sit down. We’ll talk.”

Xie Youran bit her lip, glanced at the scissors standing upright in the tabletop, then at the two Zhou family maids guarding the door, and in the end obediently sat down.

In truth, Chu Linlang had no desire for a ruinous, mutual destruction — not over seven years of marriage. It wasn’t worth it.

Before coming here, she had already thought things through: since the only thing she had to fight with was her own life, she certainly wouldn’t squander it in a fish-dies-net-breaks confrontation that would leave her without any cards left to play.

Better to act decisively while she still held good cards, and make the most thorough arrangements for herself that she could.

She had made a promise to her mother — that she would live her life well. One day, she intended to bring her mother out of the suffering she endured in the Chu household. So even if no one else would care for her, she had to care for herself.

Thinking this, Chu Linlang asked unhurriedly: “How many months along?”

The question was entirely matter-of-fact — as casual as asking after the months of a cat or dog kept at home.

Xie Youran still had a shred of pride left. She had recovered a measure of composure, and raised her head with an air of aloofness: “What of it? Do you think having this hold over me means you can control me? Let me be clear — my father may only be a fifth-rank official, but my maternal grandfather is the grand Duke of Loyalty and Nation, and his former colleagues and subordinates fill the entire capital. If you harm me, it will not only be you who is punished — your maternal family and your father’s clan will also be implicated…”

Chu Linlang smiled slightly: “Miss, please don’t misunderstand — I am only calculating how many months remain, and how soon this matter must be resolved before it becomes visible.”

Xie Youran drew a sharp breath and forced herself to soften her tone: “Sui’an holds you in deep affection, so I too hold you in respect. I hope, elder sister, that you will consider the broader situation and not obstruct Sui’an’s future. After all, given your background, finding another husband as outstanding as he would be… quite difficult. If we can all live in harmony from here on, there will be fine days ahead waiting for you…”

These words had been arranged together with Zhou Sui’an beforehand. After all, forcing Zhou Sui’an to cast off his wife would look poorly on him. Since Madam Chu came from a humble background and their original marriage had not followed the proper rites, the easiest path was for her to voluntarily reduce herself to a concubine — protecting both families’ reputations. Since Madam Chu had no children and was neither as young nor as talented as herself, she could simply be kept in the household like an old servant woman.

But now Xie Youran regretted suggesting it. She was afraid that if Chu Linlang stayed in the household, she would creep into her room in the night and cut open her belly with a pair of scissors.

Chu Linlang found that continuing to exchange words with this thoroughly spoiled young woman was going to ruin her appetite, so she dispensed with further conversation and drew from her robe a piece of paper she had prepared in advance.

“The Zhou family originally had two shops back in the hometown. Though they were not part of my dowry, I was the one who built them up through hard work after my marriage, so I will be taking them with me. Additionally, this is a list of five shop properties in the capital that are currently listed for transfer — I would trouble the second Miss Xie to find a way to have them transferred into my name. As for the monetary compensation, you may discuss the amount with your parents and give whatever seems appropriate.”

Xie Youran had imagined many things in advance, but nothing had prepared her for Madam Chu first going into a murderous rage and then seamlessly launching into a calm business negotiation.

Looking at the list of properties — each one worth a considerable sum — she had certainly cast a wide net. Even her father couldn’t produce all of this!

And beyond that… what exactly was her meaning?

Chu Linlang smiled faintly: “Congratulations, second Miss Xie — I find myself lacking in virtue and incapable of continuing as the Zhou household’s wife, so I intend to clear the way for you. However, all business transfers must have a fair price. I am willingly stepping away from a prosperous enterprise, and I expect to be paid in full before we consider the matter settled.”

Xie Youran stared, jaw half-open, barely able to believe what she was hearing: “You… how can you be so mercenary? Are you treating Sui’an like some piece of merchandise in a deal?”

Chu Linlang replied serenely: “A man who is inconstant and faithless — what is there of value? What you are buying is the seven finest years of my life, which I wasted and gave to the wrong person.”

—