Zhao Shi snorted coldly: “You’re the only one credulous enough to believe her pretty words! We Zhou family already have a daughter-in-law who knows nothing of propriety — do you think she will find you a good one? She’ll only pick some dull and plain-looking girl who poses no threat to her standing! Madam Liu and I have been close friends for years, and she still carries guilt over not having helped our family back then. Properly speaking, Yin Xuefang — even as a widow — given her family’s circumstances and her looks and character, could have entered another household as a proper wife taking the place of the deceased. Yet she is wholeheartedly devoted to you and is willing to enter the Zhou household as a concubine. Can you truly say you feel no pride in that?”

Zhou Sui’an, hearing his mother put it that way, felt his sullen mood lift somewhat — and especially upon hearing that after their reunion, Yin Xuefang had resolved she would have no one but him and was willing to become his concubine, a small private satisfaction stirred in his heart.

But having just spoken those firm words, he found it awkward to change his position: “I had assumed you would communicate with Linlang first before inviting the Yin family over — I never expected you to keep her entirely in the dark… She has already made it plain she will not accept Yin Shi… I think we should let the matter go.”

Zhao Shi gave a cold snort. She did not tell Zhou Sui’an that she had deliberately withheld the information from Chu Linlang.

Her son was held entirely in that salt-selling woman’s grip — but she herself could see it all clearly: that Chu Shi was full of cunning and schemes. If Linlang had known early on that she intended to bring in a learned and accomplished concubine who surpassed her in every way, who knew what mischief she might have quietly been brewing! Her original plan had been to wait until the Yin family arrived, go through the household elders, add Yin Shi to the Zhou family genealogy, and only then let Chu Linlang find out.

By that point, the deed would be done — and even if Chu Linlang’s belly was full of tricks, they would be useless.

Yet she had not expected her daughter to slip up at dinner and let Chu Linlang know ahead of time, giving her a single night to turn Zhou Sui’an around.

This left Zhao Shi, who had always been quietly locked in a contest of wills with Chu Linlang, outmaneuvered and at a disadvantage — which only made her feel more stifled and angry.

In the past, Chu Shi’s jealousy had been something she had forced herself to endure, for the sake of the family’s finances gradually improving. But her son was now the respected Vice Prefect — not the fallen and impoverished young man of former times. How could that Chu Linlang, ignorant of letters and reeking of market-place shrewdness, still be a fitting match?

Watching Chu Linlang obstruct her, Zhao Shi was all the more determined — it must be Yin Xuefang, and no one else.

She only hoped that with a virtuous and educated concubine who knew the proper rites, the Zhou family line would branch and flourish, and that she would produce a child of talent and learning to stand beside Chu Shi on equal terms — so her son would no longer be bewitched and controlled by that salt-selling woman.

Zhou Sui’an, hearing that Yin Xuefang could have made a proper second wife elsewhere, and had instead fallen for him at first sight and was willing to be a concubine, felt his resolve soften slightly.

Seeing his mother persist so insistently, he said no more, and fled out the door as though a hunting dog were on his heels.

Lord Zhou had originally found official duties tedious, always longing to finish at the government office and return home to peace and quiet — but now he discovered that compared to the petty entanglements of the inner household, official business was in fact considerably less trying.

He had even made up his mind to simply stay at the government office for the next few days. As for the matters at home, let his mother and Chu Linlang wrangle it out between themselves. Whatever conclusion they reached, he would accept it wholesale.

After seeing her son off, Zhao Shi brooded in resentment for a while, then decided to summon Chu Linlang for a scolding: a woman who could not bear children — what standing did she have to prevent her husband from taking a concubine?

But when she sent a servant woman to deliver the summons, she learned that Chu Linlang had apparently gone out early that morning with Yin Xuefang to stroll the streets and take tea together.

Hearing this, Zhao Shi’s heart turned over with alarm. She called out inwardly, “Oh no” — what sort of trouble was Chu Linlang stirring up now?

In truth, this was rather unfair to Chu Linlang. That morning she had gotten up intending to go out and deliver some of the fashionable fabric samples from the capital to the Prefect’s wife, and while she was at it, to look into the wine shop she was considering purchasing.

It was only that when she reached the door, she had happened upon Yin Xuefang, who had been waiting there for quite some time. Miss Yin had taken the initiative to request to accompany her, and she could hardly refuse — so she had agreed.

Also traveling with them was the little girl Yuan’er, who lived under Chu Linlang’s care.

The small child had by now been raised by Chu Linlang until she was plump and soft, no longer the bundle of skin and bones she had been when she was first brought home. Her large eyes were bright and lively, and she looked more and more like Chu Linlang.

Because all the Zhou household people consistently told outsiders that the child had been born to Chu Shi, Yin Xuefang also believed her to be Chu Linlang’s own.

In the carriage, she had passed Yuan’er a tangerine. Yuan’er bent her head to peel it, then broke off a large portion and held it up to Chu Linlang’s lips first.

Yin Xuefang couldn’t help but admire: “Elder Sister has raised such a filial and sweet-natured daughter — this kind of devotion is truly endearing.”

Chu Linlang swallowed a segment of tangerine while stroking Yuan’er’s fine, soft hair.

Before the child was brought here, who knew what kind of life she had been living — her armpits filthy with grime, her head crawling with lice, wary of anyone near her, snapping and biting if a stranger came close.

Only later, when Chu Linlang personally cared for her — bathing her, braiding her hair, and giving her a little snow-white kitten — did the child gradually begin to relax.

Chu Linlang had once gone out for a few days, and upon returning home discovered a large bowl in the drawer of her bedside table — inside was a pig’s trotter, already covered in mold and fur. It was the child’s share saved from a family ancestral offering, set aside especially for Chu Linlang.

Chu Linlang still remembered the little girl watching with eager eyes as she opened the drawer, then — upon seeing the pig’s trotter had gone moldy — bursting into heartbroken, howling sobs of disappointment and grief.

She understood Yuan’er’s heart. Her own childhood had been like Yuan’er’s — longing for someone strong and warm to look after her, yet her mother was soft and powerless, her father calculating and cold, and the legitimate children of the proper wife had looked down on her and bullied her.

She had always thought back then: if anyone were ever good to her, she would hold it in her heart with gratitude and repay it abundantly.

That longing had gone unmet until she married Zhou Sui’an, where it was at least partially filled.

Yuan’er was not her own flesh and blood, yet Chu Linlang paid the child far more devoted attention than Zhou Sui’an ever did.

Hearing Yin Xuefang’s words, she only smiled gently, and made no move to reveal Yuan’er’s origins.

While they were walking the streets, Yin Xuefang noticed that Yuan’er’s clothing was simple and plain, and wanted to buy her some new clothes and hair ornaments — but was politely declined by Chu Linlang.

Yuan’er had started attending a girls’ school at age six, and the teacher had made clear that the students were not to be overly decorative in their dress. So she only had her daughter wear clean and neat clothing, without flowers and ribbons.

Miss Yin was quietly startled. One ought to know that women’s circumstances differed from men’s — it was rare for a mother outside of great aristocratic families to send a young daughter to a girls’ school.

Fortunately it was not long before Chu Linlang rose, said her farewells, and brought Miss Yin along to the wine shop she was looking to purchase, to sample the food.

Though the title was that of a concubine, she would at least be a favored one. Zhou Sui’an’s future was bright, and there was the longstanding friendship between the Zhou and Yin families. With the proper wife’s humble origins and lack of a legitimate son — as long as she gave birth to a son, he would be the Zhou family’s only heir and shoot. Compared to going to a family she knew nothing of and becoming a replacement wife for an old man, having to face a brood of the first wife’s children — this was far preferable.

This sort of virtuous and capable wife’s companion — was this not what countless men dreamed of? Weighed against all these advantages, her humble origins seemed barely worth mentioning…

Later she overheard Chu Linlang chatting casually with the maids and male servants, and learned that Chu Linlang had two shops of her own — and not even dowry shops, but ones she had built up herself after marrying into the household. This was another considerable shock.

Miss Yin’s small face immediately drained of color by three shades, and with tears welling at the corners of her eyes she looked at Chu Linlang, her voice trembling: “I truly and wholeheartedly admire both you and your husband’s character, and I wish only to respectfully attend upon you both. Why will Elder Sister not allow me?”

If she bore resentment and could not accept her, this marriage might yet encounter further turbulence.

Was this not the Sixth Prince’s Junior Preceptor — Situ Sheng?

Yin Xuefang had come to Lianzhou, and seeing the Zhou household’s orderly and well-maintained circumstances, she felt even more resolved to enter the Zhou family’s door.

Miss Yin had originally thought herself superior to Chu Linlang in many respects, and that as long as she did not stand in her way, marrying into the Zhou family would follow naturally.

Yin Xuefang had her own reasons for going out with Chu Linlang today.

Yin’s father was a minor clerk; while they ate and dressed better than common folk, theirs was hardly a wealthy household, and she, a proper young miss, seemed somehow to enjoy less material comfort than this salt merchant’s daughter born to a concubine.

Chu Linlang had no expectation that Zhou Sui’an would deal with the remaining mess. If her guess was correct, Lord Zhou’s official duties would “suddenly” become extremely busy these next few days, and he would most likely not set foot at home.

She had originally expected Chu Shi to greet her with cold and cutting words, and had prepared to take that opportunity to offer an explanation.

Girls’ schools were rare and precious — far more expensive than the boys’ private tutoring schools that could be found on every corner. Even a family in Yin Xuefang’s comfortable circumstances could not afford to send their daughter to one.

But she also needed to put the First Mistress at ease — to assure her that she was not a woman who resorted to tricks, and that in future she would respectfully defer to her elder sister. She asked only for harmony throughout the Zhou household, and promised to do her utmost to bear children for the Zhou family line.

Chu Linlang had no sarcastic intent — she truly could not make sense of Miss Yin’s thinking, and so she said what she felt.

Yet a single such remark had been enough to make Miss Yin dissolve into tears, and somehow it felt as though it were Chu Linlang’s own fault for blocking someone else’s path of advancement.

The Zhou family was certainly willing to spend money on their daughter’s education — Yin Xuefang felt yet another wave of admiration for the Zhou family fill her heart.

Having ordered the dishes at the second floor of the wine shop, Miss Yin could hold back no longer and explained in a low voice her and Zhou Sui’an’s earlier outing together on the lake to compose poetry, hoping the First Mistress would not misunderstand and harbor resentment.

The man was remarkably handsome in appearance and tall of stature, drawing the sidelong glances of passersby all around.

Over the course of their tea with the Prefect’s wife, Chu Linlang had also casually mentioned to her Miss Yin’s maternal uncle who held office in the capital, and spoke a little about the current personnel situation in the Military Affairs office where he served.

Those matters of officialdom were largely beyond Yin Xuefang’s understanding — she could only answer whatever was asked of her, and patiently keep company.

Previously, because of what her mother and Zhao Shi had said, Yin Xuefang had formed a certain prior impression of this First Mistress born of a salt merchant’s concubine, harboring an inward contempt — feeling that the young Zhou Sui’an had been dazzled by beauty and married a humble merchant’s daughter below his station.

She herself had benefited from connections through her maternal aunt’s family, where a cousin who held high official rank had taken her in for two years so she could learn some poetry and verse.

Yet somehow, after spending time in Chu Linlang’s company, her heart grew increasingly uneasy — she had a constant feeling that matters might not unfold as smoothly as her mother and Madam Zhao imagined.

She had never expected that when alone with her, Chu Shi would not even bother keeping up the appearance of graciousness, and would mock her so directly and openly.

Yin Xuefang had witnessed Chu Linlang’s warm and accommodating manner at the Prefect’s wife’s gathering, gentle and pleasant to all.

Such social grace left the Miss Yin — who rarely stepped beyond her own threshold — feeling rather outclassed.

She had assumed Chu Shi was a sparrow who had flown onto a higher branch by marrying into the Zhou family. But now Yin Xuefang began to realize that Chu Linlang moved with easy familiarity among the wives of her husband’s superior officials, as close as sisters, and moreover was skilled in business and capable of earning money — the one who sustained the Zhou household’s daily expenses.

Early that morning before going out, Chu Linlang had already heard a few things from her sister-in-law, and had now discreetly taken the measure of the Yin family’s general situation. She said she needed to drop something off at the Prefect’s residence and invited Miss Yin to accompany her.

Yet having followed Chu Linlang all the way here, she had first watched her interact with the Prefect’s wife with comfortable, intimate familiarity, and then witnessed Chu Linlang’s poised and natural manner with everyone they encountered — easy, articulate, and charming in conversation.

Listening to Miss Yin’s timid and self-effacing words, Chu Linlang understood her reasoning perfectly well — it amounted to no more than hoping that she, as the proper wife, would demonstrate the magnanimity to accept her graciously, and would not use this as cause to hold the decisions of both families’ elders against her.

Yin Xuefang had suffered in her previous marriage — a crude and vicious family she could not bear — and had taken her fill of misery from them. Zhou Sui’an’s literary refinement and elegant bearing, his air of distinguished scholarship — he was the elder brother she had admired since childhood. This reunion made her lament the tricks of fate, and stirred a quiet longing in her heart to be his.

But at this moment she was in no mood to deal with her husband’s old family friend and childhood sweetheart.

At this thought, she raised her eyes and surveyed Miss Yin’s tremblingly fragile manner, and was too tired to go around in circles with Yin Xuefang. She picked up a dish of food while speaking plainly and directly: “Miss Yin should know that I was born to a concubine, and grew up watching my own mother beg for her livelihood under another’s nose. I truly cannot understand — with the standing to be a man’s proper wife open to you, why would you choose to come running here to be a concubine instead?”

She had originally thought that her entry into the Zhou family was a foregone conclusion, but who could have imagined that at dinner the previous evening, with all its undercurrents and tensions, Yin Xuefang discovered that what Zhou Sui’an truly valued was not his mother at all, but this First Mistress Chu — the one who apparently did not enjoy her mother-in-law’s favor.

She had imagined Chu Linlang would, when alone with her, at least maintain a cold and distant front. She had come prepared with a whole stomach full of things to say.

But Chu Linlang spoke only in a calm and even tone, chatting about ordinary things and asking incidentally about Miss Yin’s family connections and relatives — leaving Yin Xuefang, who had prepared a belly full of arguments, without any opening to raise the subject.

Because just as she turned to look out the window at the street below, she suddenly caught sight of a tall figure appearing at the corner of the street across the way.

—