Ming Tan couldn’t shake the feeling that her husband had been looking at her strangely since they returned from visiting her family. She couldn’t pinpoint exactly what was odd, but their eyes seemed to linger on each other a moment or two longer than usual. She didn’t dwell on it too much.
After the family feast, Bai Minmin and Shen Hua prepared to leave. Recently, Bai Minmin’s mother and sister-in-law had been keeping her on a tight leash. After all, she was a young lady of marriageable age, and it wouldn’t do her reputation any good to be seen gallivanting about town every day. Shen Hua, on the other hand, needed to meet with several shopkeepers. Since joining the Li family, her mother-in-law had entrusted her with managing the household. Though fond of poetry, Shen Hua was no stranger to practical matters and had earned considerable respect for running the household efficiently.
After they left, Ming Tan visited Lady Pei in the Lanxin Chamber for a chat. Lady Pei held up Shen Hua as an example: “… She’s truly blessed. She’s thriving in the Li household. Her husband is ambitious, their marriage harmonious, and she gets along well with her in-laws. Isn’t her eldest sister-in-law the sister of your friend, Miss Zhou? Both have impeccable character and appearance. Most importantly, her in-laws are open-minded and don’t micromanage. That’s why she was able to take charge of household affairs so quickly. You should learn from her.”
Ming Tan nodded, then after a moment’s reflection, said, “Mother, I understand, but I don’t have in-laws or sisters-in-law. On my wedding day, the Prince’s steward brought me all the account books and keys.”
Lady Pei was taken aback. “Does no one in the household give you trouble?”
Ming Tan thought for a moment, then shook her head.
“If they’ve entrusted you with everything, it means they trust you. You should manage the Prince’s estate well.”
Ming Tan agreed with a soft “Mm.”
Seeing they were alone, Lady Pei lowered her voice and asked, “Are there any concubines or bedchamber attendants in the household?”
Unlike other noble families, it had been impossible to gather such information about the Northern Prince’s household before the wedding, nor could they have refused the marriage if unsavory details had come to light. This had been a constant source of worry for Lady Pei.
Without hesitation, Ming Tan replied, “No.” But then she paused, her tone becoming uncertain, “At least, I don’t think so. I haven’t heard of any other women in the household in the three days since I arrived.”
“Has His Highness spent all three nights in your chambers?”
Ming Tan blushed and nodded, saying demurely, “I seem to be staying in the chambers my husband has always used. His clothes are all there.”
They were sharing quarters? Lady Pei was somewhat surprised. This lent some credence to the Marquis’s earlier claim about the Prince being “devoted to his wife.”
Feeling more at ease, Lady Pei took Ming Tan’s hand and spoke earnestly, “It’s wonderful that the Prince favors you exclusively now. But let me be frank: The prince is young, capable, and powerful. Just because you’re the only one now doesn’t mean it will always be so.
“In a noble household, children are paramount. While your marital affection is strong and you’re undisturbed by others, you should focus on bearing children to secure your position as Princess. As long as you manage the household and have legitimate offspring, no one can surpass you in the Prince’s household.”
Lady Pei’s words were sensible and echoed the thoughts of many women of the time. Yet the idea of other women being intimate with her husband and bearing his children in the future inexplicably troubled Ming Tan.
“I know you don’t like hearing this now, but you must think long-term to avoid future heartache.”
“I understand, Mother.”
—
“Aren’t you getting out?”
At dusk, the carriage stopped in front of the Northern Prince’s mansion. Jiang Xu stood outside, glancing at Ming Tan, who remained seated inside, lost in thought.
That morning when they left, his young Princess had peppered him with questions, full of energy. On the return journey, however, she had been silent and distracted. He wondered if she was still pondering her friend’s talk about “needing water” in those romance novels.
Jiang Xu had planned to “verify” with her that night what it felt like to “need water” seven times, but urgent matters at the palace required his presence even after the gates had been locked for the night.
Four days into their marriage, Ming Tan found herself unexpectedly alone and unaccustomed to it.
In the middle of the night, as thunder crashed and lightning flashed, she tossed and turned, wrapped in her brocade quilt. The thought of a new, beautiful woman entering the household in the future, sharing her husband’s affections and his bed, filled her with an inexplicable sadness.
The next morning, the rain had cleared, and when she opened her window, the fresh scent of flowers and plants wafted in.
Ming Tan sat at her dressing table with dark circles under her eyes, feeling listless.
Just as she was trying to console herself that future concerns could wait and there was no need to worry needlessly, a young maid entered, head bowed low, and delivered a message with apparent difficulty: “Princess, Concubine Yun, and Concubine Fang are here to pay their respects.”
Ming Tan froze, her mind reeling from the shock.
Lvge was equally stunned, the jade comb stopping midway through Ming Tan’s hair.
“What… what did you say? What concubines?” Lvge asked incredulously.
The young maid answered cautiously, “Concubine Yun and Concubine Fang. Due to the Princess’s busy schedule upon entering the household, the two concubines are only now able to pay their respects.”
Lvge pressed, “Why haven’t we heard of any concubines in the household before?”
The maid shook her head, stammering, “This servant doesn’t know.”
Suxin, maintaining more composure, dismissed the young maid and hurried to comfort Ming Tan: “They’re likely bedchamber attendants the Prince used before. It’s common in ordinary households to elevate such attendants when welcoming a proper wife. My lady needn’t worry too much. The Prince didn’t mention them before, which probably means he doesn’t consider them important.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Lvge chimed in, seeing Ming Tan’s crestfallen expression. “If they were of any real significance, the Prince would have mentioned them, or at least Old Fu would have. Even the other servants would have gossiped about them.
“Since no one has mentioned them all this time, they must be inconsequential. They’ve come to pay respects now, perhaps to offer the ceremonial tea as concubines to the principal wife. But with the Prince away, you don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to. Just find an excuse to decline.”
Ming Tan remained silent, deep in thought. After a long while, she allowed Lvge to continue with her hair and makeup.
Half an hour later, Ming Tan emerged, elegantly dressed, and made her way to the flower hall of Qian Chamber. Taking her seat at the head of the room, she raised her eyes slightly, slowly appraising these two new concubines who had appeared out of nowhere like a bolt from the blue.
These two concubines, though not as beautiful as Ming Tan, were far from plain. One was elegantly pretty, the other alluringly charming. They appeared to be two or three years older than Ming Tan, exuding the allure of mature beauties.
Before Ming Tan could process her mixed emotions, the more elegant-looking concubine swiftly bowed and knelt on one knee: “This servant Yun Yi pays respects to the Princess.”
Something seemed amiss.
Ming Tan, momentarily confused, instinctively asked, “You are… Concubine Yun?”
“Yes.”
Then the other must be Concubine Fang.
As Ming Tan’s gaze shifted, Concubine Fang curtsied gracefully, saying coyly, “This humble one, Fang Ruomei, greets the Princess.”
Compared to Concubine Yun’s odd manner of greeting, this one certainly acted more like a concubine. However, referring to herself as “this humble one” was strange – which concubine in all of Beijing called herself that? Ming Tan found it jarring, oddly reminded of Shui Ying from Bieyu House.
“You may rise. Please be seated.”
Ming Tan suppressed her emotions, averting her gaze from the two women. She absentmindedly fiddled with her teacup lid, unable to bring herself to say the customary words about being sisters and serving the Prince together to produce heirs.
It was too painful, far too painful.
She sipped her tea, the steam making her eyes sting and misting her vision.
Yun Yi, oblivious, stared unblinkingly at Ming Tan’s delicate hands as she toyed with the teacup.
Fang Ruomei leaned over, gently nudging her: “What are you staring at?”
Yun Yi replied reflexively: “The Princess’s way of moving the tea lid is beautiful. Her hands are beautiful too. I’ve never seen such beautiful hands.”
She then picked up her teacup, clumsily attempting to mimic the motion, only to scatter the tea leaves that had yet to unfurl at the bottom of the cup.
“…”
Where did this simpleton come from?
Concubine Fang nearly rolled her eyes to the heavens.
As an awkward silence descended upon the flower hall, a maid announced: The Prince has returned.
Ming Tan barely raised her eyes. She felt too miserable to face that man right now. Only when the hem of his brocade robe entered her field of vision did she lower her gaze and rise, perfunctorily offering a curtsy.
Jiang Xu was not typically observant, but even he could not miss how his young Princess radiated unhappiness from the tips of her hair to the ornaments on her embroidered shoes.
Taking a seat beside Ming Tan, he glanced at Yun Yi and Fang Ruomei, introducing them in a cool tone: “These are the guards I’ve found for you. Yun Yi is skilled with the sword, and Fang Ruomei with poisons and medicine. They will protect you when I’m away from the manor.”
“…?”
Ming Tan suddenly looked up.
Yun Yi: “This subordinate, Yun Yi of the Jin Yun Guard, is tasked with protecting the Princess’s safety.”
Fang Ruomei: “This subordinate, Fang Ruomei of Bieyu House, is tasked with protecting the Princess’s safety.”
Both women offered formal salutes.
Ming Tan was even more bewildered.
So this Concubine Fang was from Bieyu House.
After the introductions, Jiang Xu glanced at the two women, who took the cue to bow their heads and retreat.
Soon, only Ming Tan and Jiang Xu remained in the flower hall.
Still reeling from the emotional rollercoaster, Ming Tan struggled to collect her thoughts: “Concubine Yun and Concubine Fang, they’re… guards? Are they just guards or…?”
“Just guards.”
“Then why make them concubines?” In novels, female guards were usually personal maids.
“I dislike having too many people in the household.”
With that, Jiang Xu rose to have the meal prepared. He had returned early, expecting a hot bowl of porridge, but never imagined his Princess would abandon her virtuous demeanor on their fourth day of marriage over two female guards.
Ming Tan, unaware of his thoughts, pondered his statement about disliking a crowded household. After considering various scenarios, she arrived at a plausible conclusion: her husband didn’t want to take concubines for now.
A princely manor couldn’t have just one princess. Even if her husband didn’t want concubines, others would surely find ways to introduce beauty into the household. Rather than waiting for that to happen, it was better to bring in two of their own. This way, they’d have a reason to refuse others.
That night, in bed, Ming Tan sought confirmation of this theory from Jiang Xu. Receiving an affirmative response, she became so elated that she grew more passionate, enduring until midnight despite the exertion.
After the second round, Ming Tan thought they would rest as they had on previous nights and contentedly closed her eyes.
However, after Jiang Xu held her from behind for a short while, he suddenly showed signs of renewed vigor. Soon, Ming Tan found herself irresistibly turned over. Her brows furrowed, and she broke out in a light sweat. Whimpering, with tears welling up, she weakly protested and complained between gasps.
In her hazy state, she heard Jiang Xu’s low voice in her ear: “Didn’t the novel say it should be seven times?”
“…?”
“But that… that wasn’t what I said—mmph!”