Xie Sheng had grown thoroughly weary of his second daughter’s troubles, yet after Su Shi swore a solemn oath that the rumors had not originated from them, he found himself half-believing her.
But if it wasn’t the two daughters, and it wasn’t Madam Hua or the Hermit Wangchen, surely it couldn’t have been Chu Linlang herself who had spread those words?
Recalling his eldest daughter, the Sixth Prince’s Consort, and her warning, he pointed a finger at Su Shi with great solemnity: “I’ve said it before — a daughter who marries out is like water poured away. Whether the second one lives well or poorly is her own choice, and none of our doing. I’ve turned a blind eye to you quietly supporting her all this time. But you keep dragging her into one disaster after another — have you stopped caring about the men of this household?”
Su Shi was startled and hastily asked what he meant.
It turned out that Xie Sheng’s youngest son, Xie Zhuo’an, had recently been transferred from a regional post and assigned to the Ministry of Finance for practical experience.
He had originally been closer to his second brother-in-law, Zhou Sui’an.
But in official matters, personal ties count for little.
Once Xie Zhuo’an joined the Ministry of Finance, he quickly discovered just how muddle-headed his second brother-in-law truly was — arrogant, all talk and no ability, constantly making tactless remarks that offended his colleagues.
Even Xie Zhuo’an, young and inexperienced as he was, found himself baffled: how had someone as stubborn and dense as Zhou Sui’an managed to climb all the way to the capital in the first place?
Sometimes, listening to Zhou Sui’an blurt out his stupidities — and enduring his private complaints — Xie Zhuo’an felt ashamed on his behalf, even as a relative by marriage.
By comparison, the talent of Lord Situ Sheng was far superior.
Whether in official duties or social dealings, the man was sharp and capable, commanding admiration wherever he went. Given that Situ Sheng was so heavily relied upon by His Majesty, and based on the current reshuffling within the Ministry of Finance, he seemed likely to rise even further.
After all, the Minister of Finance was advanced in years and clearly preparing to retire. Most of his duties had already been delegated to Situ Sheng, the old minister seeking only to leave office without either merit or fault.
At this rate, if Situ Sheng did indeed ascend to the rank of Third-Grade Minister, he would become Xie Zhuo’an’s direct superior.
Xie Zhuo’an, for his part, had been making every effort to distance himself from Zhou Sui’an within the Ministry. When Zhou Sui’an had invited him for drinks on several occasions, he had found excuses to decline each time.
In Xie Sheng’s estimation, Grand Libationer Qi Gong was a figure of such eminent virtue and prestige — how could he possibly have stepped forward on behalf of some kept woman His Majesty would never acknowledge publicly?
What a damned fool thing for those women to gossip about!
Far more likely was that Qi Gong had made such a show of it on behalf of the brilliant and talented Situ Sheng, to restore his reputation.
But what if Situ Sheng mistakenly believed that it was Su Shi and her daughters who had spread the slander, and later made things difficult for his youngest son Xie Zhuo’an in the Ministry?
The moment this touched on her son’s career prospects, Su Shi’s mind — so often mired in the petty squabbles of the inner courtyard — suddenly cleared.
She said urgently: “Then… then what should I do? Should I go and seek out Situ Sheng?”
Xie Sheng shot her a glare. “If you go to him directly, won’t that be like posting a sign saying ‘I have a guilty conscience’? Foolish woman. Since Chu Shi is the aggrieved party in all this, you should go to her — explain yourself properly and try to mend things between you.”
Su Shi was mortified. How could she possibly swallow her pride and apologize to Chu Shi?
But Xie Sheng shook his head in exasperation and jabbed a finger at his wife’s thick skull.
“That Zhou Sui’an used to carry himself reasonably well, and his career had been going smoothly. How has he ended up in such a state — looking likely to be squeezed out of the Ministry and demoted to the capital’s outskirts? Can’t you see? It’s because he used to have a capable person backing him up.”
Su Shi stared blankly. “Who?”
Xie Sheng let out a sigh. “Chu Shi, of course! Just look — she’s a woman of humble merchant origins, a divorced merchant wife at that, with no connections in this city, yet she hasn’t floundered. She’s shown herself capable of both bending and standing firm. First she sought refuge at Situ Sheng’s household, then went to the academy to make powerful friends. And now? She’s flourishing — not only did she enter the palace and receive a title, earning the rank of Sixth-Grade Lady of Distinction, but she’s even secured the backing of a venerable figure like Grand Libationer Qi Gong. If you and I were in her position, disadvantaged and vulnerable, I’m not sure either of us would have fared as well. This woman’s methods may be far more formidable than either of us has realized.”
Su Shi had never thought of it that way and stood momentarily dumbstruck.
Because she had always assumed it was simply Zhou Sui’an’s bad luck that his career had stalled — it had never once occurred to her that his earlier success had been entirely due to the woman who was once his wife.
Yet thinking it over carefully, back in Suizhou, it had indeed been Chu Linlang who had gone about smoothing Zhou Sui’an’s path at every turn.
In those days, Chu Shi and her eldest daughter, the Sixth Prince’s Consort, had been as close as sisters by a different surname, and Chu Shi had known just how to endear herself to Su Shi as the Sixth Prince’s mother-in-law.
Compared to Chu Shi, her second daughter fell short by no small measure. Xie Er had no talent beyond sponging off those around her, and no ability whatsoever to plan and pave the way for her husband’s career.
If her son-in-law had been capable, it wouldn’t have mattered — there would have been no need for the wife to run around on his behalf.
But Zhou Sui’an had grown so reliant on his first wife that once that crutch was taken away, of course he’d be walking with a limp.
Through Xie Zhuo’an’s account, Xie Sheng had finally come to understand just what a useless, all-talk-and-no-action fool his second son-in-law was in official matters. If Zhou Sui’an were to be transferred out of the Ministry of Finance, Xie Sheng, as the man’s father-in-law, would raise both hands in approval.
After all, so long as his second son-in-law remained there, even Xie Zhuo’an would be dragged into it. The farther he was removed, the better.
Besides, although Grand Libationer Qi Gong had dispelled the rumors by stating that Chu Linlang had no improper connection with Lord Liao Jingxuan, he had said nothing to suggest that Situ Sheng and Chu Linlang were without ties.
Recalling how Chu Shi had been cast aside by her husband, and how it was Situ Sheng who had helped her seek redress, Xie Sheng had drawn his own conclusions about who the imperial-bestowed “auspicious carp” Chu Shi was now bringing fortune to.
So in urging Su Shi to make proper amends to Chu Shi, he was also, indirectly, expressing his regret to Situ Sheng.
At the very least, it would make clear where the men of the Xie family stood, and spare his youngest son difficulties within the Ministry.
When her son’s prospects were at stake, what did Su Shi care about her own face?
The very next day, she loaded up a full box of pastries and gifts and headed to Chu Linlang’s shop to offer her explanation and apology.
Chu Linlang had not anticipated this — Xie Youran was still recovering from her miscarriage, yet here was Su Shi coming to make amends.
As the saying goes, one cannot strike a smiling face. Since Su Shi had arrived bearing gifts, she couldn’t very well chase her out, so she listened to Su Shi’s explanation with measured composure, neither servile nor overbearing.
Su Shi was somewhat nervous at first, fearing Chu Linlang might give her a cold reception — or worse, seize the opportunity to mock her, leaving her so ashamed she’d want to sink into the floor.
Fortunately, Chu Shi’s manner was gentle and warm, and she even had a maidservant serve Su Shi tea.
What Su Shi said was essentially what Xie Sheng had coached her to say — the key point being a clear explanation that the gossip this time had truly not come from either of them.
Chu Linlang listened with a smile, giving Su Shi every measure of dignity, saying only that words have a way of changing as they pass from mouth to mouth, and that she had never particularly taken other people’s idle chatter to heart, so Su Shi needn’t feel burdened by it.
But then Chu Linlang shifted course and remarked, almost in passing: “Come to think of it, the last time I was attacked by Noble Consort Jing, it was also because you and the Hermit Wangchen were chatting and someone overheard, which is how things became so unsavory. I’m a superstitious sort — whenever something unlucky comes my way, I make sure never to go near the person or thing responsible again. Since you’ve come so sincerely to apologize, I’ll take the liberty of saying a little more: in the future, keep your distance from people who bring the misfortune of loose tongues…”
As she said this, Chu Linlang produced a tortoise shell with theatrical gravity, gave it a few shakes, drew a divination, and turned it toward Su Shi: “You see, isn’t it so? This reading shows a malevolent figure at work!”
Su Shi forced an awkward smile, said nothing more, and made her excuses about having taken up too much time before rising to take her leave.
After Su Shi had gone, the smile faded slightly from Chu Linlang’s face.
If it had truly been the Su Shi mother-daughter pair spreading the rumors, women of their particular scheming bent wouldn’t have had the face to come to her and apologize.
So if Su Shi was telling the truth, then the person who had fanned the flames behind this round of rumors became immediately apparent.
That Hermit Wangchen was truly a petty soul, deeply nursing grievances.
As Tao Yashu had told her, Tao Huiru had been severely reprimanded by the Duke of the Tao family over the matter of Yixiu Junzhu and Noble Consort Jing. It seemed this aunt had taken the grudge to heart and laid the blame squarely at Chu Linlang’s feet.
If it had been anyone else, Chu Linlang would simply have regarded it as a dog bite and moved on.
But the Hermit Wangchen’s viciousness far surpassed anything Su Shi and her daughter had ever done.
That was why, earlier, when speaking with Su Shi, she had helped clear the fog from this woman’s eyes, laying out for her the workings of how the Hermit Wangchen had used goading words to manipulate Xie Er into stepping forward as the one to take the blame.
Judging by Su Shi’s expression of sudden comprehension, she had clearly taken something away from the conversation.
Tao Huiru might well be the legitimate daughter of the Tao family, of noble standing. But she would also need to make the fourth eldest of the Tao family understand — she was no worthless weed to be trampled underfoot.
She even found herself wondering: given Tao Huiru’s calculating malice, could it really have been as simple as Wen Shi stumbling upon her husband’s affair with a close friend and losing her mind from the shock?
Before that, who could say how Tao Huiru had provoked Wen Shi — needling the emotions of someone already given to melancholy and sensitivity to the very breaking point, driving her step by step toward collapse?
What a pity… she was nothing like the soft, gentle flower that Wen Shi had been.
Since Tao Huiru had shamelessly brought this upon herself by provoking her, she could not expect to walk away clean.
Chu Linlang had committed this account firmly to memory.
Now, Su Shi had gone and repeated every word of Chu Linlang’s analysis to Xie Sheng, word for word.
Xie Sheng listened with a slight frown. Although he didn’t fully believe everything Chu Linlang had said, he found himself suddenly reminded that Tao Huiru was indeed no simple woman.
He said to Su Shi: “Though Tao Huiru was once a daughter-in-law of the Yang Family, old General Yang never thought much of her. The Yang and Tao families were at odds politically, and General Yang and Duke Tao had no small amount of friction between them. I seem to recall that someone from the Tao family had done something rather underhanded — leaked the Yang Family Army’s troop deployment map to the Crown Prince, which led to General Yang being impeached by the peace faction…”
Su Shi looked puzzled. “Are you saying the one who leaked the information was Tao Huiru? That can’t be — wasn’t she said to be deeply devoted to her husband?”
Xie Sheng let out a cold snort. “Think about it — when the Yang Family was… dealt with, she and her son were the only ones who came through unscathed, all because the Crown Prince stepped in to speak for them. Is this woman someone simple? I’m warning you: keep a respectful distance from this Tao Shi in the future. She’s a magnet for disaster, and manipulating a woman with your kind of head would be child’s play for her.”
Su Shi, hearing her husband say all this, felt herself growing angrier and more frightened with every passing thought.
To think that beneath the robes of a detached, otherworldly Buddhist laywoman lay such a rotten heart.
What on earth had the Tao Shi and Chu Shi quarreled about, that Tao Huiru would use her and her daughter as a stepping stone?
Thinking it over carefully now, hadn’t both rounds of gossip and trouble, just as Chu Linlang had said, each originated with Tao Huiru?
Though she still didn’t know the history between Tao Huiru and Chu Linlang, Su Shi was truly revolted by this old intimate of many years.
She even vaguely recalled that Tao Huiru’s previous closest confidante had ended up driven mad, and had also lost her husband…
That Chu niangzi’s tortoise shell really did carry some spiritual insight — Tao Huiru was indeed a woman of ill omen.
What nagged at Su Shi far more, however, was her second daughter. Zhou Sui’an still hadn’t come to take Xie Youran home — what exactly did that mean?
Xie Sheng, for his part, had already made up his mind over these past few days: “The customs of our dynasty have never constrained women from remarrying. Xie Youran’s life in the Zhou household has been so scattered and miserable — there’s no need to keep up appearances. Ask Zhou Sui’an what he intends. If the Zhou family still sends no one, let her divorce him. My daughter Xie Sheng, even if she married again with her eyes shut, would do better than that worthless Zhou Sui’an!”
Xie Sheng was nothing if not pragmatic. A man of Zhou Sui’an’s age, unable to advance and now facing demotion out of the Ministry of Finance, had no future to speak of.
If the Zhou family showed sense and came to take his daughter back, that would be that — a few words of consolation, and they’d make the best of things going forward.
But if the Zhou family didn’t show sense, if the mother-in-law was set on making things difficult, then with the child gone, it was better to make a clean break now rather than let his daughter’s best years slip away with no chance of marrying again.
Su Shi sighed at this — from a man’s perspective, a woman remarrying was a simple matter. But in reality, was it ever that uncomplicated?
It would have been one thing if Xie Youran were marrying for the first time. But she was already on her second marriage, and the spectacle of her giving birth in the street had caused a public scene that had set the whole city talking. Word had it that many prominent households were privately laughing at Xie Youran.
Why else would her eldest daughter be so furious — even refusing to see her own mother?
Thinking of her daughter’s wretchedness, a large part of which had been caused by Tao Huiru’s toxic meddling, Su Shi couldn’t hold back her smoldering resentment.
After the Xie family issued their ultimatum to Zhou Sui’an, he finally came and took Xie Youran back.
Yet not all corners of the capital were shrouded in gloom and shadow.
The happy occasion of the Guan and Wang families’ wedding was at last drawing near. Guan Jinhe had sent wedding invitations to every teacher and student of the women’s academy.
Even Tao Yashu, living within the palace, was sent over that day by the Empress Dowager herself with a congratulatory gift, to offer her fellow classmate Guan Jinhe her blessings and share in a cup of celebratory wine.
On the day of the wedding between the Guan and Wang families, Chu Linlang, having received her young friend’s invitation, dressed and groomed herself with care, then took a carriage early to the Wang family, the censor’s household, to witness the ceremony.
A family of upright officials observes weddings that seek elegance over extravagance — no lavish ten-mile trousseau procession here — and yet it was lively and joyful all the same.
Situ Sheng had also received an invitation from the Wang family, and he arrived in plain civilian robes.
The long robe he wore was one Chu Linlang herself had chosen the fabric for — fine and costly — and sewn with her own hands.
Tall and broad-shouldered, he stood among the crowd with an ease and bearing that drew the eye without effort.
Chu Linlang could hear two young women nearby whispering about Lord Situ.
She could hardly greet Situ Sheng openly in public, and could only steal occasional glances, quietly studying him from a careful distance.
But when the bride’s sedan chair arrived and the crowd surged instinctively forward, Situ Sheng appeared behind Chu Linlang before she even noticed, standing steady at her back, shielding her from being jostled by those pressing in.
This thoughtfulness was known only to the two of them. Chu Linlang quietly smiled to herself, and seizing the moment when everyone’s eyes were fixed on the ceremony, she reached back and gave the large hand behind her a swift, gentle pinch.
Though they were now bound by a betrothal, they could not make it known in public. Only in this noisy, crowded throng could they steal a brief moment to hold hands.
Just then, the man behind her caught hold of her bare wrist and murmured low: “The bracelet I gave you — why aren’t you wearing it?”
Chu Linlang truly wanted to roll her eyes. Hadn’t she told him long ago? Since it was a Yang Family heirloom, how could she wear it out and let people see?
But Situ Sheng had never taken that reasoning seriously. Old jade bracelets — half the women in the capital wore two or three of them on their wrists. Finer ones than hers could be found everywhere. And as for a smooth jade bracelet, unless one placed them side by side for comparison, they were essentially indistinguishable — who would commit to memory the particular water-grade veining of one smooth jade bracelet?
But this cautious little woman had always been this way, wearing it only occasionally at home to let the bracelet develop its patina, and never once putting it on when she stepped outside.
Today was no different. She had taken it off just before leaving the house and left it carefully at home.
When the bride and groom finally stepped into the hall, Linlang released Situ Sheng’s large hand and went to join Tao Yashu, who had come to find her, to watch the ceremony together.
When the ceremony concluded and the guests sat down, Chu Linlang discovered that the hosts had arranged her, Tao Yashu, and Tao Huiru all at the same table.
It wasn’t the hosts’ fault for making such an arrangement — no outsider could have known that Tao Yashu and her own aunt had long since drifted apart, their harmony now a facade concealing a silent rift.
Even less could anyone have guessed that the Hermit Wangchen — who gave every appearance of being above worldly strife, as serene and unassuming as a chrysanthemum — had in fact harbored a private grudge against Chu Linlang all this time.
Fortunately, all three of them were skilled at keeping up appearances. Since the hosts had arranged it so, they each accommodated gracefully and sat down, exchanging smiles and pleasantries. Beyond their initial greetings, not another word passed between them, yet not the faintest sign of discord or tension showed through.
Regrettably, not everyone was equally skilled at such performances. When Tao Huiru, with her customary elegance, turned to chat with those around her and smiled in greeting toward Su Shi in the neighboring seat, Su Shi’s expression — which had been reasonably cordial until that moment — went cold in an instant. She looked straight through her former close friend’s overture and turned, smiling, to exchange warm pleasantries with Chu Linlang and Tao Yashu instead.
It was not without reason that Su Shi behaved this way. Back then, Chu Linlang’s words had cut through layers of confusion for her like a blade parting heavy fog. Afterward, she had discreetly made her own inquiries, going roundabout to ask others where the gossip had first originated.
A friend she was close to had helped her look into it, and the conclusion they arrived at was that Su Shi herself was the one who had spread it.
But the one saying so was none other than the Hermit Wangchen, who had only implied it indirectly — mentioning that on that particular day, she had happened to be present when Su Shi and Xie Er had encountered the scene, and that she herself had not seen clearly what had happened, and only learned the full story afterward from Su Shi and Xie Er’s own account.
Su Shi had heard this and felt half her body go numb with fury. She went and confided her grievances to her close friends, warning them all to be more cautious from now on and not to share everything so freely with that nun-type.
She’s nothing but a fake renunciant, and her schemes go deeper than anyone knows.
Good words never travel far, but bad things can cross a thousand li.
What had clearly been gossip she and Su Shi had chewed over after witnessing the scene together had been passed on by Tao Huiru under the name of things she and her daughter had witnessed — making it impossible for Su Shi to confront or argue the point with Tao Huiru directly.
Even the most thick-headed person, having been played twice in a row, would eventually grow a measure of wits.
The more Su Shi turned it over, the more bitter it tasted, and she felt that Tao Huiru had been thoroughly unconscionable — with such a vicious heart, to have entrapped her daughter twice over.
When she thought of how she had once opened her heart completely to Tao Huiru, sharing everything without reservation, Su Shi was filled with regret to her very core.
In these past days, she had not been sparing in her complaints about Tao Huiru to others.
Tao Huiru received Su Shi’s cold shoulder and inwardly became somewhat clearer on the situation, slowly piecing things together.
She wasn’t particularly troubled by having offended Su Shi. A general’s wife who never put herself forward — had it not been for old ties of affection, she would not have been worthy of being her close friend in the first place.
What made Tao Huiru’s heart prickle with unease, however, was this: when had Su Shi started smiling so openly at Chu Shi? And this Chu Shi — looking at her now, she seemed equally unbothered… what an extraordinary measure of composure that woman possessed.
She had watched Chu Linlang exchange warm smiles with Su Shi just a moment ago, looking so cordial and familiar that it wasn’t just Tao Huiru who was startled — many of the other women present seemed equally taken aback, all wearing expressions of disbelief at this all-is-forgiven display between these two women, which had come about far too quickly for anyone to follow.
With so much bad blood between them, how could both of them smile at each other like they were old friends who had known each other for years?
Not only were others puzzled — even Tao Yashu was caught off guard. After drinking the wine the newlyweds offered their guests, the two of them slipped away to stroll briefly in the Wang family’s garden. Tao Yashu took the opportunity to ask: “When did you and General Xie’s wife bury the hatchet?”
Chu Linlang gave a careless smile. “I let it go long ago. It was always them who couldn’t move past it. I still don’t know what suddenly got through to Madam Su, but she came to me to explain herself. Since that’s how it was, why not reduce an enemy by one, and give her a measure of dignity? I can’t exactly run her through with a sword for a satisfying end to it, so why should I indulge in the satisfaction of sharp words and only deepen the grudge?”
Tao Yashu greatly admired this quality in Chu Linlang. Had someone spread such slander about her, she would have found it difficult to let go and forgive — regardless of what role Su Shi had or hadn’t played.
Chu Linlang smiled softly. “Don’t flatter me. When you occupy a position of high standing someday, the people and things you’ll need to accommodate will likely be far more than what I contend with now. Didn’t the teachers at the women’s academy say that those who accomplish great things don’t get caught up in minor grievances? Throughout history, there’s been no shortage of great men who sat and drank with enemies they had sworn to oppose to the death. If men can have such breadth of spirit, why shouldn’t we women?”
At those words, a faint smile came to Tao Yashu’s face — because the one who had said them was none other than their former teacher, Liao Jingxuan.
He had left for the northern frontier half a month ago already. There was no telling when he might return…
Thinking of this, Tao Yashu pulled Chu Linlang by the hand, leading her to a quiet and secluded corridor, and quietly asked after Liao Jingxuan’s recent circumstances.
Chu Linlang knew little, and offered only a few simple words.
Seeing that she couldn’t get much out of her, Tao Yashu felt a little at a loss. She also knew, in truth, that in her teacher’s eyes, she was simply a girl who didn’t understand the ways of the world. Moreover, she was entering the palace carrying the weight of her family’s hopes — in Liao Jingxuan’s heart… he likely wanted nothing more than to keep her at arm’s length.
At the thought of this, she began fidgeting with the folds in her skirt again.
One look and Chu Linlang knew her young friend was having one of her episodes, and inwardly let out a quiet sigh. She was genuinely afraid that if this young friend of hers one day found herself attending His Majesty, she would end up smoothing out the wrinkles in the imperial bedclothes while the Emperor lay there.
And His Majesty, she feared, would not have her teacher’s patient temperament.
So she quickly invented an excuse about wanting to make merry in the bridal chamber and check on Guan Jinhe, using this as a diversion to pull Tao Yashu away.
It was only after the two of them had left that a figure quietly stepped out from around the corner of a nearby room.
The newcomer was none other than Tao Huiru, Tao’s fourth paternal aunt.
It turned out that at the banquet just now, Tao Huiru had gradually noticed that the ladies who had once been so forthcoming with her had all drawn back. Several times, when a conversation was flowing lively among others and she joined in, it fell flat.
After it happened a few times, Tao Huiru realized she had truly underestimated Su Shi.
—