A seventy percent wife.

A marriage contract with an expiration date. When it expired, it would become void.

Most people’s expectations for love and marriage start with “growing old together” and “one life, one love” as the foundation.

A’Lei and Zhu Zhanji were no different emotionally from ordinary people, but reality and reason told them that having a beautiful period, living in the moment, enjoying life while they could, and fulfilling their love was already not easy.

Especially for Zhu Zhanji, who had been deprived of happiness since childhood—having even just a little bit would make him very satisfied.

This was still much better than looking at plums to quench thirst or drawing cakes to satisfy hunger. At least he would truly possess it. In the Ming palace, there really was no such thing as “lasting forever.” Being able to have this much made him extremely fortunate.

In the future storms ahead, there would be someone to walk with him.

Zhu Zhanji agreed without hesitation.

But Hu Shanwei firmly opposed it!

Mu Chun was, for a moment, even ready to rebel!

The husband and wife tag-teamed, pressuring A’Lei to change this ridiculous idea.

The child he had personally protected and raised! Yesterday she still called him godfather, today she had the audacity to call him father-in-law. His carefully raised daughter had been, with one careless move, carried off by the ungrateful wolf he had personally raised!

Mu Chun was so angry he jumped up and down: “Impossible! It must be that boy Zhu Zhanji taking advantage of your vulnerability, feeding you some kind of love potion on that isolated island! You had clearly made up your mind to voyage to the Western Seas and return when he became a father. How did he trick you into coming back?”

A’Lei: “I didn’t take any love potion. I’m just facing my own heart honestly—I like him.”

A love potion? Hu Shanwei didn’t believe in such things. The keywords “isolated island,” “storm,” and “lone man and woman” quickly played out a melodramatic scene in the weathered old mother’s mind.

She dragged A’Lei to the bedroom, drove Mu Chun away, closed the door, and tried to stay as calm as possible. Holding A’Lei’s hands and looking directly into her daughter’s eyes, she said:

“No matter what happened, it’s not your fault. I believe you.”

A’Lei: “Huh?”

“It’s not your fault,” Hu Shanwei said. “Chastity is something ritual propriety uses to bind women. It’s not… it’s not that if you’re not a virgin, you’re impure or must marry this man to cut losses. This kind of thinking is wrong. As long as you treat the world with kindness, you’re still a pure, good girl.”

Old mother Hu Shanwei had imagined on her own that A’Lei encountered pirates, Zhu Zhanji played the hero saving the beauty, A’Lei already had a secret crush on him, Zhu Zhanji also had feelings for A’Lei, and lone man and woman experiencing life-and-death crisis, trapped on an isolated island by a typhoon, at sixteen in the impulsive youth when blood runs hot, dry kindling meeting fierce fire, with the storm adding fuel to the flames, resulting in…

Hu Shanwei was an open-minded old mother. She felt that young people who loved each other sleeping together for one night wasn’t some earth-shattering disaster. She could accept this result—never mind one night, even two nights wouldn’t necessitate marriage.

Much less marrying into the imperial family, becoming the Imperial Grand Princess Consort. This wasn’t an ordinary household—A’Lei would become the Ming Empress in the future!

Having said this much, A’Lei understood Hu Shanwei’s meaning. Her face reddened as she hurried to say, “Nothing like that happened, really. Sister, you can examine me right now if you want! He and I have a spiritual connection. He’s my first and deepest love in life. I want to walk a path together with him, fulfill this love, and when we reach the end of the road, I’ll leave to fulfill myself.”

Regarding A’Lei and Zhu Zhanji’s contract marriage, Hu Shanwei disapproved. “You’re both too young and naive! Do you think only you two think this way? Only you two are in love? Let me tell you, back then Emperor Gaozhu and Empress Xiaoci Ma, Emperor Jianwen and Empress Little Ma, and now Emperor Yongle and Empress Renxiao—they were all young married couples who shared hardships and weathered storms together. I dare say that when these three imperial couples first began, their love was absolutely more passionate than yours and Zhu Zhanji’s.”

Hu Shanwei paused. “Well, Emperor Jianwen and Empress Little Ma might have been slightly less so. But the other two imperial couples absolutely supported each other from their youth and weathered storms together. When these two empresses died, neither emperor established a successor empress. But what was the result? When I entered the palace, Empress Xiaoci was already treating being empress as just a job. If Empress Renxiao hadn’t died young from injury in her prime, and had lived until today, do you think she’d be happy with the current situation? A’Lei, learn from past mistakes—don’t repeat them.”

A’Lei said, “Sister also said Empress Renxiao left early and opportunely, leaving at the most brilliant moment of love, departing before it withered, changed flavor, or faded. The love I want with Zhu Zhanji is like this—not seeking forever, only seeking to have possessed it once. We clearly know there’s no good outcome, yet still decide to be together. Having had it would be wonderful, and this life would have no regrets.”

This girl had found the loophole so quickly. At this moment, Hu Shanwei wished her daughter were a bit dumber. “Do you think you two can just end it when you say so? At that time, you’ll be emperor and empress, the Ming Dynasty’s first couple. Your marriage won’t be something you can decide to continue or terminate yourselves. It’s not like driving on the street where you stop when you say stop. The Forbidden City isn’t our family’s vegetable garden where you enter when you want and leave when you want.”

The greater the obstacles to young people’s love, the more fierce it becomes—obstacles are catalysts. A’Lei said, “We can do it. Sister doesn’t believe in us, but we believe in ourselves.”

Having exhausted all reasoning, A’Lei remained stubbornly set in her ways. She was only sixteen, facing first love, with the same persistence as Hu Shanwei had at sixteen.

This mother and daughter had strikingly similar personalities, except A’Lei’s experience was still shallow. She hadn’t yet undergone the trials and tribulations that Hu Shanwei had experienced. She naively thought that as long as they believed in each other, they could honor their promises and overcome all difficulties.

Hu Shanwei was furious. She had forgotten what she was like at sixteen—she only began her painful transformation at twenty, which led to today’s Palace Supervisor Hu.

Now in her rage, Hu Shanwei felt that since reasoning didn’t work, she’d try some hard reasoning. She grabbed the long bamboo ruler A’Lei used for drawing from the desk and slapped it on the table with a sharp crack, sending dust flying:

“Three days without a beating, and you’re climbing on the roof to tear off tiles! I’ve been too lenient with you ordinarily, spoiling you so you don’t know the world’s dangers. Politics is especially ugly, but I only let you see the good side. You get wind when you want wind, rain when you want rain. You’ve lived smoothly for sixteen years, yet you don’t know that your good fortune for half your life is something even Ming princesses can hardly match. Do you think everything you possess is mainly due to your intelligence and ability? No! It’s because you’re the daughter of me and Mu Chun!”

“You are our daughter. We husband and wife have the ability to give you all this, letting you grow wild and free, learning whatever you want. When you wanted to study mechanics, we had the money to buy all the clocks and watches on a street for you to dismantle and play with, never having to consider consequences.”

“But once you marry Zhu Zhanji and become the Imperial Grand Princess Consort, with palace walls separating us, we husband and wife will be beyond reach. How your future days go will depend entirely on yourself. Even if we two join forces, we might not be able to help you live comfortably. Do you understand?”

A’Lei said, “I naturally understand. Sister and brother-in-law couldn’t protect me for life anyway. Sooner or later I’d have to rely on myself. Moreover, in the palace, it would be me and Zhu Zhanji facing things together. Sister doesn’t believe in us, but we believe in ourselves.”

“You—” Hu Shanwei was so angry she could spit blood. “Extend your hands!” This meant she was going to strike her palms.

A’Lei spread her palms and closed her eyes, thinking: Hit me all you want, I won’t give up anyway.

Seeing her daughter’s determined expression, Hu Shanwei steeled her heart, raised the ruler high, swinging it with force. Unable to bear watching herself hit her daughter, she—closed her eyes.

With closed eyes, she could bring herself to strike.

Crack!

The ruler came down with a crisp sound, apparently hitting its target, yet there was no cry of pain from A’Lei.

This child is too stubborn! Hu Shanwei hardened her heart for a second strike.

“Sister, stop!” A’Lei called out. “You’re hitting brother-in-law!”

Hu Shanwei opened her eyes to see Mu Chun, who had somehow come in and was crouching beside them, also extending his hand over A’Lei’s palm. His palm showed a clearly visible red mark half a ruler wide from the blow he’d just taken.

Mu Chun, who had lacked fatherly love since childhood, raised his daughter like a “father,” being a devoted “son.” Though angry about A’Lei and Zhu Zhanji’s privately agreed contract marriage, and wanting to properly discipline his daughter, he couldn’t bring himself to scold harshly and was always mild-tempered. When A’Lei was dragged to the bedroom for individual punishment, changing from couple’s joint discipline to the wife’s solo effort, the firepower actually became fiercer.

Sometimes education works this way—when one party is always holding back and can’t be harsh, one plus one equals zero. Joint couple education is sometimes less effective than single-parent education.

While Hu Shanwei educated inside, Mu Chun cheered from outside the door, constantly nodding, “Yes,” “exactly like that,” “so right,” “understand now?” and so on, providing spiritual support for his wife.

It worked fine at first, but later hearing Hu Shanwei use the ruler, Mu Chun couldn’t bear his daughter being beaten and came in to push his daughter away, taking the beating for her.

When Hu Shanwei opened her eyes and saw this, her heart ached. She quickly dropped the ruler. “Why didn’t you tell me to stop? You took two strikes for nothing.”

Mu Chun said, “I was afraid you’d hurt yourself holding in your anger. Hitting would make you feel better.”

Caught in the middle, Mu Chun was in a difficult position—hitting would hurt his daughter, not hitting would anger his wife, so he could only charge forward himself.

“You—” Hu Shanwei was both heartbroken and angry, her firepower beginning to shift. “It’s because you’ve always spoiled her that she’s developed problems!”

“Yes, yes, yes.” Mu Chun readily admitted, absolutely not shirking responsibility. “It’s all my fault alone for spoiling her. It has nothing to do with you or A’Lei. It’s all my fault. Don’t hit her—if you want to hit someone, hit me.”

Mu Chun’s palm was slightly swollen. A’Lei quickly took some ice from the room’s cooling ice jar, wrapped it in cloth, and applied it to her brother-in-law’s hand to reduce swelling.

How could Hu Shanwei bear to hit him? She only felt physically and mentally exhausted. “I’ve said all the good and bad words I can say. I’m tired of talking. It’s your turn. She’s your child too—don’t always make me the bad guy. Today we must correct her temperament. We cannot possibly agree to this marriage. Without our approval, would the Zhu family dare to force the marriage? Moreover, the selection process has already ended. The thirty-odd selected girls are already waiting in the储秀宫 for imperial decree marriages. If it weren’t for Prince Han’s heir…”

Thinking of Zhu Zhanhe, whose bones were gone, Hu Shanwei felt sad, her eyes reddening. “Prince Han’s heir’s principal wife and two side consorts were already chosen, personally decided by the emperor, supposed to marry upon his triumphant return. Now because of the heir’s death, the palace cannot hold joyous events, so the marriages were postponed.

The Imperial Grand Princess Consort has also been decided, everything is ready-made. Without A’Lei, Zhu Zhanji would still marry a wife.”

A’Lei hugged Mu Chun’s arm—he was her biggest support now. “Sister, brother-in-law, let me tell you a secret. After hearing it, you’ll understand mine and Zhu Zhanji’s decision. Originally, the one who should have died this time was Zhu Zhanji…”

A’Lei told them about Zhu Zhanhe faking his death. “…That’s how it was. Zhu Zhanhe didn’t die—Zhu Zhanji gave him the chance to fake death. Originally, Zhu Zhanji planned to abandon everything and seek marriage with me after the storm passed. But unexpected changes created a deadlock. Zhu Zhanji couldn’t leave, and I couldn’t bear to see him walk the lonely path alone, so I decided to accompany him through life’s most difficult stretch, hence the contract marriage. Sister, brother-in-law, when you fell in love and decided to be together, who believed you could succeed? Now it’s mine and Zhu Zhanji’s turn. If you don’t believe in us, does that mean we definitely won’t succeed?”

The Chunwei couple experienced great sorrow and joy upon learning of Zhu Zhanhe’s resurrection from death, their hearts undergoing unprecedented trials.

Mu Chun had also faked death to marry Hu Shanwei, so he understood how much courage Zhu Zhanji’s decision to abandon everything required… as well as his love for A’Lei.

Mu Chun said, “Fine, Zhu Zhanji is clever and capable. I believe you two working together can succeed. But when he ascends the throne and becomes emperor, controlling supreme imperial power, arranging Prince Han’s family properly, and fulfilling his promise to Zhu Zhanhe, when you achieve success and want to retire, to leave him and realize your ideals—will he really let you go?”

Mu Chun sighed. “I’m also a man. I also abandoned everything to become the man behind your sister, and I got everything I wanted—a lifetime with your sister, growing old together. I never regretted my choice. Everything I lacked before age seventeen, I recovered from your sister and you, like someone hungry and thirsty for years finally eating full meals every day. Of course I was satisfied.”

“Zhu Zhanji is exactly the opposite. Except for those few years I brought him in Yunnan, he’s had almost no childhood, no relaxed times. He’s full of schemes, like a human hornet’s nest. You marry for love, walking through the hardest path together. When that time comes and you want to leave, having tasted sweetness, would he easily let go?”

“I am a man.” Mu Chun patted A’Lei’s hand. “If it were me, I absolutely wouldn’t let go. I’d presumptuously do some compensatory things to comfort you. I’d clearly know you want freedom, but except for freedom, I could give you everything. You want salt, I could only give you sugar. Over time, love gradually wears away, and a good couple becomes bitter enemies. Love is possessive, the greatest selfishness. Letting go is much harder than holding tight. Most people’s love prefers sinking together rather than giving the other freedom.”

Mu Chun finally said something sensible! Hu Shanwei quickly launched a supporting attack. “Young and reckless, presumptuous—I don’t blame you, but everything is still in time. I’ll go to the palace right now and make things clear with Zhu Zhanji.”

“Mother.” A’Lei pulled Hu Shanwei’s hand. “I trust him. Can you trust me?”

Hearing that “Mother,” Hu Shanwei’s heart softened. Looking back at A’Lei’s eyes, the three-dynasty Palace Supervisor who had solved countless problems and overcome countless obstacles was also helpless, deeply feeling powerless. At this moment, Hu Shanwei was like all parents in the world, confused:

She worked hard to hold up a sky for her child, to pave what seemed like a smooth, successful path, but the child refused to walk that smooth, bright road, insisting on jumping into pits, taking detours, stumbling and crawling all the way, getting bloodied and wounded.

Generation after generation, why was it always like this?

Suddenly, Hu Shanwei remembered her grudges with her father Hu Rong, and their conversation when he was gravely ill and dying:

Father: “…Children are like bamboo shoots in mountain forests, growing faster than you imagine. Today just showing pointed tips, after a big rain they shoot up in segments, before you know it they’re taller than you. Parents actually don’t get to spend much time with their children—treasure the time of their growth. Don’t think she depends on you now; actually from the moment she was born, the distance between you and her grows ever greater. When children grow up and have things on their minds, they don’t have patience to tell you.”

How did I answer father then? I said: “When children grow up, naturally they have their own thoughts… Never mind with parents—even ourselves, today and tomorrow, five years and five years later, or ten, twenty years, our own thoughts differ. Everyone lives in the present. Let her decide for herself. Each of us in the end can only be responsible for our own lives. Mu Chun and I now only want to give her a perfect childhood, a good body, confidence and wisdom. Future matters depend on her own choices.”

Father was quite comforted then and said:

“That’s good, but you say this now, you might not do it in the future. Parents always want to give what they think is best to their children, thinking children lack experience and don’t consider things as thoroughly as themselves, but children might not like it. If you and A’Lei face the same problem in the future, you must remember today’s promise before your father, and mustn’t go back on it.”

“I won’t go back on it. Should I write a document for A’Lei to keep?”

Father waved weakly from his reclining chair. “No need, I trust you.”

“I trust you,” “Mother, I trust him, can you trust me?”

Past and present interweaved. Hu Shanwei was deeply conflicted. The promise she had easily made back then was so difficult to keep. Things she thought A’Lei should naturally decide for herself, she now strongly opposed.

Yes, everyone can only live in the present. Present A’Lei, A’Lei five years from now, A’Lei ten years from now would all have different views on the same issue. How could I demand that sixteen-year-old her have my twenty-plus years of political awareness? See as clearly as I do?

A sixteen-year-old girl in the spring of youth, thinking through her own efforts she could change some things, not doubting at all that she could achieve them.

I’m already fifty-seven, a three-dynasty Palace Supervisor who personally burned an emperor to death and pushed another to the throne. The more I’ve done, the more I understand some things cannot be changed—even though I once naively tried to change them…

While pondering, Mu Chun pulled Hu Shanwei outside the room. “Let’s trust A’Lei this once.”

Hu Shanwei shook her head. “You clearly know the outcome.”

Mu Chun said, “At A’Lei’s age, it’s exactly the time for knowing something can’t be done but doing it anyway. Young people’s passionate impulses—you and I were like this when young. I’ve come to understand that parents can’t take falls for their children. For children to grow up, the hardships they eat and detours they walk can’t be reduced by even a bit. If we don’t agree now, in case she does something extreme, it would be even harder to handle. She’s our own child with exactly the same temperament as us—she absolutely won’t give up.”

“Let’s treat A’Lei not as marrying out, but as descending to earth to undergo tribulation. Zhu Zhanji is her tribulation—she must endure it. When her tribulation is complete, we’ll bring her home. With your and my abilities, if that boy Zhu Zhanji wants to forcibly keep her in the future, he won’t be able to.”

At the same time, in the Eastern Palace.

Zhu Zhanji paid respects to Crown Princess Zhang.

After the Japanese pirate campaign, the youth army achieved a costly victory. Regardless of how great the conflict between the Eastern Palace and Prince Han, Zhang still quite liked her nephew Zhu Zhanhe. Speaking of him, she truly sighed deeply. “…I carefully selected compatible girls for him—Prince Han’s heir’s one principal wife and two side consorts, the list was all decided, just waiting for his return to marry, but then the terrible news came and everything became empty.”

Zhu Zhanji accompanied his mother in shedding tears for a while, then brought up today’s main topic. “Among those in the储秀宫, has Mother taken a liking to that Miss Sun from our Yongcheng County hometown?”

Zhang was selected from Yongcheng County. The Zhang family had already received the title Earl Pengcheng, with Earl Pengcheng’s mansion in the capital. The Zhang family had long moved to the capital, but their ancestral home hadn’t changed—this was Crown Princess’s roots.

“This…” Crown Princess Zhang was somewhat embarrassed. “It’s not that your mother shows favoritism to relatives. Sun Liuyi is the daughter of my girlhood handkerchief friend. I know her background well—her family history is clean. Moreover, she was raised from childhood at your grandmother Earl Pengcheng’s Dowager Lady’s knee, brought to the capital and taught very well. Following your grandmother, she gained much insight. Though born among common people, her manner and conversation absolutely don’t lose to capital wealthy family daughters. If made Imperial Grand Princess Consort in the future, she could immediately handle things, secure her position, arrange everything for you, be your capable assistant, not stage-frightened, not timid, with no barriers between her and me—she’s the most perfect choice.”

Since they were all carefully selected good girls, Crown Princess naturally hoped to find one of her own people as daughter-in-law!

If not showing favoritism to relatives, should she show favoritism to strangers?

Zhu Zhanji said, “Grandmother takes her everywhere, and I’ve seen her many times. My impression of her is also good.”

Crown Princess smiled. “Then it’s even better. In the future you two will be harmonious—”

“But Mother,” Zhu Zhanji interrupted Crown Princess. “If you think Sun is your person, you’re greatly mistaken. Sun’s father Sun Zhong, including Sun herself, are actually Crown Prince’s people.”

Upon hearing this, Crown Princess felt like swallowing a fly. “You… how did you learn this?”

Zhu Zhanji said, “Wang Zhen told me—Mother, Wang Zhen is also someone Crown Prince placed in the Imperial Grand Prince’s palace, but I’ve already won him over.” Crown Princess’s face changed dramatically. How could she not know Crown Prince was wary of his eldest son?

She just hadn’t expected that Crown Prince had long ago positioned chess pieces targeting his eldest son, while she, the pillow companion, had been kept in the dark all along!

Crown Princess realized the seriousness of the problem. “The candidate has been decided now, and the emperor has given tacit approval. It’s too late to change.”

Zhu Zhanji said, “There’s a way. Mother, I want Miss Hu to be my Imperial Grand Princess Consort.”

“Miss Hu?” Crown Princess was confused. “There’s no girl surnamed Hu in the储秀宫.”

Zhu Zhanji said, “She didn’t participate in the selection, but her sister once selected Mother.”

Crown Princess suddenly understood. “You mean Hu Shanxiang who presented clocks to the emperor!”