Shen Zhuxi’s ringing words — “How dare you!” — stopped both people in the main hall dead in their tracks.

Zhou Zhuang was nothing like his name suggested. He was scrawny as a beansprout sapling, and though his features were passably handsome, the shadows beneath his narrow, slanted eyes bespoke a constitution drained of vitality. Those single-lidded, willow-leaf eyes carried a wicked, wayward gleam.

He looked at Shen Zhuxi. His eyes shifted. He stepped toward her.

Before Shen Zhuxi could speak, Sister Zhou had already stepped in front of her like a mother lion shielding her cub, and snapped furiously, “This is Li Wu’s wife, who has just come to live here. Show some respect!”

Zhou Zhuang halted abruptly, his gaze returning to Shen Zhuxi with noticeably more restraint.

“She’s the woman Li Wu married?”

Sister Zhou said nothing. Shen Zhuxi only watched him with full wariness. Zhou Zhuang found no response from either of them, laughed it off himself, and said, “No wonder he wouldn’t give the time of day to the wine beauty, and couldn’t look at Li—”

“Zhou Zhuang!” Sister Zhou cut his words off sharply.

Zhou Zhuang made a vague, half-hearted bow toward Shen Zhuxi and said with a smile, “Please don’t take it to heart, Madam Li. This mouth of mine has no filter. I apologize for any offense.”

Shen Zhuxi could see through the performance plainly enough. The way he had just behaved toward his own mother was his true character. A man like this was someone she disdained to deal with — even getting slightly close to him felt repulsive.

Likely sensing that her hostility was too obvious to ignore, Zhou Zhuang understood that there was nothing to be gained by staying. He brushed off his sleeves, paid no heed to the two women glaring at him, and said with unruffled ease:

“I’ll take my leave then. Apologies for the interruption while you ladies were chatting. Madam Li — please pass on my regards to Brother Li Wu.”

With that, he gave Shen Zhuxi a parting salute with cupped hands and sauntered out without any visible rush.

Watching his figure disappear beyond the bamboo fence, Shen Zhuxi reached out to steady Sister Zhou, who had not a trace of color left in her face, and said gently, “Sister Zhou, let me help you sit down.”

Sister Zhou said nothing and let herself be guided to a seat at the table.

Shen Zhuxi was just about to speak when Sister Zhou got there first.

“I’m all right,” she said. “That’s my good-for-nothing younger son. I’ve gotten used to it by now. I’m only sorry you were frightened.”

Sister Zhou reached for Shen Zhuxi’s hand and patted the back of it softly. Her palm was dry and rough, crossed with deep lines.

“Don’t be afraid. With Li Wu around, he wouldn’t dare do anything to you.”

“I’m not afraid,” Shen Zhuxi shook her head. “I heard him lay hands on you from outside. Are you all right?”

“We country folk are made of tougher stuff. What would happen to me?” Sister Zhou smiled, and not a shadow of what had happened before remained on her face.

“Will he come back?”

“Not today, most likely. He only came to get money for gambling. Now that he knows there’s no money to be had, he won’t waste his time here.”

“But once I’ve gone, what will you do?”

Sister Zhou smiled and brushed past the question lightly. “…A boat always finds its way under the bridge. There will be a way.”

Her self-reliance, her resilience, her kindness, her silence — they reminded Shen Zhuxi of the ox in the fields, laboring without complaint. No matter what burdens the world piled on her, she absorbed them in silence, accepted them in silence, and kept moving forward in silence.

“Could I tell Li Wu and have him help?” Shen Zhuxi asked.

“There’s no need to trouble him.” Sister Zhou shook her head. “The legs are on that boy’s body. Even if he doesn’t gamble in Yutou Town, he can go to Xicheng County to gamble, or go outside Jinzhou to gamble. It won’t make a difference.”

Telling Li Wu would indeed accomplish little, then.

Shen Zhuxi hesitated, then asked: “And your husband…”

“He’s a man who washes his hands of everything. He won’t get involved. He’ll just expect me to handle it, and then blame me when I don’t handle it well enough.” Sister Zhou sighed. “You heard it yourself just now — like father, like son. Neither of them is any better than the other.”

Shen Zhuxi had nothing to say to that. Her brow furrowed visibly.

“Don’t worry yourself over me. This isn’t the first time I’ve faced something like this. I’ve gotten through all these years, haven’t I?” Sister Zhou squeezed her hand and turned the tables, comforting the worried Shen Zhuxi instead. “Yours truly has been through enough to know how to handle him. Just trust me.”

“But…”

“That elder son of mine is no trouble at all,” Sister Zhou said, cutting her off with a smile. “Maybe it’s because I suffered so much carrying him in the womb that he came out thoughtful and caring from the very start. No matter how bitter or hard life gets, I only need to think of him and I can find a smile again. Even the wealthiest households have their hidden sorrows — let alone a poor one like ours. But as long as there’s even a thread of something to look forward to, you can get through day after day. Endure to the end, and there will always be sweetness after the bitterness.”

Sister Zhou’s plain and unadorned words stirred ripple after ripple in Shen Zhuxi’s heart. Had she not herself kept struggling forward — having tumbled from the heights into the mud, clinging to a distant, shapeless thread of hope?

Even Sister Zhou hadn’t given up. What right did she have to?

“You’re not even crying, and here you are weeping,” Sister Zhou said, half-laughing, half-exasperated, and pulled out a clean handkerchief to offer her.

Shen Zhuxi took it and pressed away the tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, saying indistinctly:

“I don’t know either — I just feel a heaviness in my heart…”

Sister Zhou took the handkerchief back from her hand and gently wiped away her fallen tears. “You’d better not go watch any theatrical performances. If they put on a scene of parting on stage, you’ll be flooding the audience below.”

Sister Zhou had hit the mark. During performances in the palace, whenever the actors began a scene of lovers separating, Shen Zhuxi would inevitably be in tears below.

“I… I can’t help it either… it’s just how I was born… I can’t control my eyes…” Shen Zhuxi said, aggrieved and sniffling.

Sister Zhou laughed, a fond gaze falling on her.

“These tears of yours — save them for when they truly matter. Crying too much is no good either. People value what is rare, and men are the same. If you cry too often, he stops treasuring it. Cry enough, and it’s like rain falling from the sky — it means nothing anymore. You’re such a lovely girl — don’t cry anymore. If your eyes swell up from all that weeping, your Li Wu will never forgive me for it.”

“He wouldn’t care…” Shen Zhuxi sniffled.

“We women are born into hardship, and country women more so,” Sister Zhou said with earnest, heartfelt weight. “You were fortunate — you entered the palace young, and later, when catastrophe struck, you managed to escape. Cast out into the world, the very first person you encountered was Li Wu. Your lot is already better than most women’s. This has everything to do with your kind heart. The elders say good deeds bring good returns, and ill deeds bring ill returns — those words aren’t empty ones.”

“Sister Zhou…” Shen Zhuxi couldn’t help herself. “Have you ever thought about leaving your husband?”

“Leaving him?”

Sister Zhou’s expression shifted. Shen Zhuxi knew immediately she’d said something wrong, and nearly bit her own tongue off.

“Why would you think such a thing?”

“…I only thought that if you did, you might be able to live a better life,” Shen Zhuxi said haltingly, scrambling to smooth things over.

“Married is married — pig or sheep, you accept what you’re given. In the countryside, there are no women who leave their husbands — only women who are cast off by them. A woman cast off not only bears her own shame, but brings disgrace upon her whole family, and can ruin the marriage prospects of any younger unmarried sisters. No.” Sister Zhou shook her head. “You lived in the palace — the women you saw were either imperial consorts or princesses. Even a princess who leaves her husband becomes the laughingstock of the world. How much worse for an ordinary woman? For them, being thrown off by a husband is a crueler punishment than death.”

Shen Zhuxi fell into silence.

Marriage was even more terrifying than the glimpse she had seen of it from the outside.

It was a path that gambled away an entire lifetime — once you stepped onto it, there was no turning back. What the future would hold, whether mutual reverence or mutual resentment, was entirely a matter of fate.

But fate was something no one could read. Even people who had known each other for years could change completely — let alone a man whose face a woman had never even seen.

She and Fu Xuanmiao had at least met a handful of times. Though he had always kept a veil between them, it was still far better than the countless women who had simply been blinded by their wedding veil with no knowledge of who they were marrying whatsoever.

Sister Zhou was right — she was a fortunate person.

Even having become a princess of a fallen dynasty, the heavens had still seen fit to leave her a measure of luck.

She could not deny it: in the moment she had shed the red bridal robe, she had felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

“Let’s not speak of such unhappy things,” Sister Zhou said with a smile. “Let me get you some jujubes.”

Before Shen Zhuxi could object, Sister Zhou was already on her feet.

Not long after, Sister Zhou came back carrying a bowl of freshly washed green jujubes. Shen Zhuxi picked one up and held it, turning something over in her mind for a long while before finally saying:

“Sister Zhou, there’s something I’d like to ask of you…”

“Just say it. If it’s within your sister’s power to help, I will.”

“I’d like to find a way to earn a living for myself, but I’m new here and know nothing of the place. I tried setting up a stall in the town to write letters on people’s behalf, but no one believed I could actually write. Sister Zhou, I can read and write — I’ve read the Four Books, the Five Classics, and all manner of other texts. I also know music, chess, calligraphy, and painting, and I know a great many songs. Do you know of anywhere I might find work?”

Sister Zhou looked at her with astonishment. “Is the household running short? If there’s any difficulty, just tell me — I may not have money, but once the piglets are sold there’ll be a bit of cash on hand—”

“It’s not that, Sister Zhou. I don’t think Li Wu is short of money,” Shen Zhuxi said. “It’s me. I want to be self-sufficient. I can’t bear to eat his food and live under his roof without contributing a single coin.”

“You’re his wife — how could that possibly count as a free meal?” Sister Zhou said with a laugh.

“It’s different…” Shen Zhuxi felt a pang of awkwardness. She could hardly tell Sister Zhou that theirs was not a real marriage. Since she was unable to fulfill the duties of a true wife, she could not in good conscience enjoy all the things a true wife would receive.

In the palace she had lived in comfort and felt no unease, because she had always understood that a princess was born with responsibilities — her duty was to be given in marriage to whomever the Emperor chose, to help the Emperor keep powerful families and regional magnates loyal, or even, in the worst cases, to be sent as a bride to foreign barbarian tribes.

She had long since accepted her fate. Whether her father the Emperor gave her to Fu Xuanmiao or to some foreign chieftain, she would have put on the wedding robe and worn the bridal veil.

Because it was her duty.

But she had fulfilled no duty toward Li Wu. In return, she could not eat his food or use his things with a clear conscience. She couldn’t — and she wouldn’t. This was her pride, and after leaving the palace, aside from a pair of earrings and a jade hairpin, it was the only thing she had left.

Sister Zhou saw her discomfort and did not press for an explanation. She looked troubled, and said:

“Country women who want to supplement the family income generally use their embroidery to earn a little money — they don’t go out in public to work. There are women in the town who do business, like that wine beauty, and Sui Rui the heiress daughter of Suiji Chicken Shop — but the wine beauty is a widow, and Sui Rui is an adopted daughter. If you were to go out and earn money, people would talk. At best, they’d assume Li Wu can’t provide for his wife — which would be a minor shame. At worst, they’d dirty your name and say you were entangled with this man or that, which would be far more serious. People always love to exaggerate and embellish. The moment you appear in public, all that sort of talk is unavoidable.”

Sister Zhou’s words shattered Shen Zhuxi’s hopes. Was she truly to be kept by Li Wu with nothing to show for it, until she found the Crown Prince?

And if the day came when Li Wu was no longer willing to keep her?