Chapter 89:

The room was heated by an underfloor furnace, making it as warm as spring. The elegant and soothing fragrance of incense filled the air, while the tender green orchids on the windowsill exuded vitality. The coral bead curtains jingled crisply as someone entered, and a maid brought in several bowls of sweetened tangerine soup. Taking a sip in the depths of winter sent a refreshing chill down the throat, invigorating the senses.

Jicheng disliked sweets and would never touch them unless they were made by Chunfu. This time, he merely picked up a spoon and took a symbolic sip of the sweet soup before setting it aside. No matter how refined the setting, it felt like torture to him, who was accustomed to freedom. Tang Xiaoxiao, however, was skilled at lifting spirits, eliciting bursts of laughter from his mother.

Madam Tang dabbed the corners of her mouth with a handkerchief and smiled. “Now that Erlang has returned to your side, your days should be easier. Dalang is also of marriageable age—don’t let him miss his chance.”

The old lady glanced at Muhong and sighed. “This matter is quite difficult. He holds an official post outside the capital, and most girls here have high standards and can’t endure hardship. The moment they hear they’d have to accompany him to Changfeng County for three years, they lose interest. I’d love to have Xiaoxiao as my daughter-in-law, but neither of these two children seems to fancy the other.”

Madam Tang covered her mouth and chuckled. “Isn’t that the truth? If our families could become in-laws, it would be a wonderful thing, given how close we are. But when it comes to the children’s lives, we should let them decide. Otherwise, good intentions might lead to resentment.”

The old lady looked at her eldest son and shook her head. “His heart is set on something far beyond my reach. As his mother, I can’t control him anymore. I’ll give him two more years of freedom, but after that, he can’t blame me for pushing him.”

Muhong was embarrassed but didn’t know what to say. He stood up and said, “An old friend has invited me for a gathering, so I won’t be dining at home today. I apologize for not being able to accompany Aunt Tang and Xiaoxiao.”

Madam Tang waved her hand. “You’re a man with official duties—everything weighs heavily on you. There’s no rush to spend time with us.”

As she watched her son’s retreating figure, the old lady felt another pang of sorrow. Her eldest son was fixated on that woman, and his path in love seemed destined to be rocky.

Yuxia entered with a smile and bowed. “Everything is ready in the front hall. Please, my ladies, make your way there.”

The old lady stood up, took Jicheng’s hand, and smiled warmly. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like to eat, so I had the kitchen prepare their specialties. Don’t hold back—this is your home now. Forget the past. Tomorrow, I’ll take you around to meet the major stewards, so they’ll recognize you and won’t give you trouble in the future.”

Jicheng wanted to say something but held back, simply nodding in agreement.

The table was laden with delicacies, each dish a feast for the eyes and nose. Yet, Jicheng felt like a country bumpkin newly arrived in the city. No matter how delicious the food, the unfamiliar surroundings and people made it taste like sawdust in his mouth. He couldn’t help but miss Chunfu’s fragrant little buns. He wondered how she had been these past few days.

After the meal, Jicheng excused himself, citing exhaustion from the journey, and returned to his quarters to rest. Yuxia followed, hoping to attend to him, but he stopped her at the outer chamber, leaving her both annoyed and amused. *He’s truly a country bumpkin, reeking of rustic simplicity. What does it matter if he’s a master? His lack of refinement tarnishes his status.* She wasn’t worried, though. A few more days in the mansion, and he’d surely come around—he’d eventually fall into her hands.

As soon as she stepped out, a group of young maids surrounded her, eagerly asking, “Sister, is the second master easy to serve? I stole a glance earlier—he looks even fiercer than the eldest young master. What if we make a mistake…?”

Yuxia reassured them, “The master has just returned and is exhausted from the journey. Naturally, he has no mind for us servants. Once he’s settled, I’ll introduce you all. For now, focus on your duties.”

The maids brightened at her words. Yuxia was kind and gentle, always treating the servants well. Her reassurance was like a lifeline to them—if they ever made a mistake, they could always beg for her help. They flattered her, “Sister, you’re so wise and considerate. No wonder the old lady dotes on you. Surely your position will rise soon. Let us congratulate you in advance.”

Yuxia blushed and scolded them, “Nonsense! Hurry back to work!”

With that, the maids giggled and scattered. Yuxia straightened her sleeves at the doorway, a smug smile playing on her lips, her eyes brimming with charm.

Tang Xiaoxiao retired to a side room with her attendants, while Madam Mu and Madam Tang sat at a rosewood round table, sipping tea side by side, their closeness evident.

“I heard Erlang is already married in that place?” Madam Tang asked softly after a sip of tea.

Madam Mu nodded, her delicate brows furrowing in distaste. “Just some rustic village woman—utterly unrefined and unworthy of my son’s elegance. Now I’m at a loss. I’ll wait until she gives birth and Erlang settles into life in the capital before deciding what to do.”

Madam Tang lowered her gaze briefly before looking up, her expression bright once more. “Now that she knows the Mu family’s status, she probably won’t want to stay away from Erlang, will she? The capital is dazzling—even we, who grew up here, can be overwhelmed. How much more so for Erlang, who’s just returned? A woman’s heart is small—she’ll fear her man being coveted by others. She should have come with him this time.”

Madam Mu sighed. “She didn’t come, and I don’t want to see her. Every time I look at her, I’m reminded of the hardships my son endured, forcing him to marry such a woman. It’s a disgrace. With Erlang’s handsome looks and our family’s standing, he could have married a daughter-in-law to my liking. Now… to kick the ladder away after crossing the bridge weighs on my conscience.”

Madam Tang didn’t pursue the topic. Instead, she changed the subject. “Back in our maiden days, we dreamed of becoming in-laws. Now the opportunity is here, yet it’s complicated. Xiaoxiao is wild by nature—a gentle temperament won’t tame her. Erlang seems stern and authoritative, which might suit her. Let Xiaoxiao visit him more often—I’d feel at ease.”

Madam Mu’s face lit up with pleasant surprise. “I feared you’d hesitate because of Erlang’s past. He lacks education, but with Xiaoxiao by his side, his days will surely be brighter. Ayao, thank you for accepting Erlang and my little grandson.”

Meanwhile, Chunfu had just bid farewell to Jicheng when she saw Jinjuan approaching with an armful of belongings. She couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s all this?”

Jinjuan grinned. “Zhao Yun is swamped with work and won’t be home for a few days. Since I’m free, I thought I’d crash at your place, enjoy your cooking, and pick up some skills. You won’t mind, will you?”

How could Chunfu mind? She longed for someone to confide in. Jicheng was a man—no matter how thick-skinned she was, there were things she couldn’t share with him. Moreover, she was upset by Madam Mu’s apparent dislike, though she hid it carefully to avoid worrying Jicheng.

“Not at all. Jicheng will be gone for at least a month. I’d love your company. Come inside—I have so much to tell you.”

Jinjuan followed Chunfu eagerly, her smile deepening. Under Zhao Yun’s care, she had blossomed into a radiant woman, her once frail figure now curvaceous and alluring. Sitting on the *kang*, Jinjuan noticed Chunfu’s furrowed brow and took her hand. “Your elder brother is seriously ill. Is that what’s troubling you?”

Chunfu shook her head. “Though it saddens me, we were never close. I’ve sent what’s necessary, so I’m not burdened. What bothers me is… I think Jicheng’s birth mother dislikes me. Honestly, most mothers-in-law make their feelings obvious, but she’s always polite yet distant. I can’t bring it up with Jicheng—he says little, but I know he yearns for her. After losing his parents young and being alone for so long, finding his mother now must mean the world to him. I’d feel the same.”

Jinjuan pursed her lips. “Maybe you’re overthinking? They say pregnant women tend to imagine things. Focus on having a safe delivery first. Jicheng adores you—we all see it. A mother-in-law who appears out of nowhere—I doubt he’d side with her over you.”

Chunfu’s face fell. “I don’t want to cause strife between him and his mother, but I won’t keep swallowing my pride. It’s a dilemma.”

Jinjuan pondered. “Do you want to live as a wealthy lady in the capital? They say it’s bustling, full of delights. Every ambitious beauty dreams of going there—snagging a nobleman means a lifetime of luxury. You’re luckier—you’re already a proper wife. It’s up to you. Don’t stop Jicheng from fulfilling his filial duties. As long as you don’t defy his mother, no one can fault you. You’re different from us—I’ve always felt you carry an air of nobility, as if destined for this life.”

Chunfu laughed helplessly at Jinjuan’s bold words, but the comfort lightened her mood. She wasn’t after the Mu family’s wealth—even without them, she could live comfortably. For now, she’d focus on her pregnancy. Brushing aside her gloom, she chatted with Jinjuan about lighter matters, unaware that Madam Mu already saw her as a lamb for slaughter.

Yuxia’s dream of becoming a concubine was short-lived. Early the next morning, Lüfu arrived with the old lady’s orders: a new, capable servant had been chosen for the second master, and Yuxia was to return to the old lady’s service.

Madam Mu was astute. Initially unsure how to handle the situation, she’d intended for Yuxia to anchor Jicheng’s affections. Now that a suitable candidate had been found, she wouldn’t complicate matters for her dear friend. The new attendant was Mingkan, son of the procurement steward Qin—a sincere yet eloquent young man, perfect for guiding Jicheng outside and shielding him from potential slights.

Lüfu waited outside until Jicheng rose, assisted with his toilette, then escorted him to the old lady’s courtyard. Though Yuxia’s face had darkened momentarily, she quickly composed herself. Servants were mere pawns—useful ones reaped rewards, while the rest remained in obscurity. Having nipped Yuxia’s ambitions in the bud, Madam Mu sweetened the blow with lavish gifts, eliciting a grateful smile. Someone easily placated by trinkets wasn’t worth her concern.

Dressed in a deep purple round-collar robe with a purple-gold crown, Jicheng’s stern handsomeness silenced Lüfu. His black sable cloak accentuated his imposing presence. In his mother’s chambers, Lüfu removed the cloak and stood aside respectfully.

“Did you sleep well? You look refreshed. Join me for breakfast—later, I’ll take you to meet the stewards at our shops.” Madam Mu cheerfully placed a warm soup bowl before him.

Jicheng felt no pull toward these affairs. With a faint smile, he declined. “I’ve no interest in the shops. Please don’t trouble yourself.” His return wasn’t motivated by the Mu family’s wealth—he cared little for riches, unlike his wife.

Unfazed, Madam Mu beamed. “You might change your mind after seeing them. Don’t overthink it—just accompany me, as if touring the capital.”

Unable to refuse further, Jicheng followed her after breakfast. The Mu family owned numerous shops and estates, with silk, teahouses, and restaurants being the most lucrative. The plump managers hinted at ample profits.

Having learned that the newly returned second master would inherit the family business, the managers fawned over him, hoping to curry favor. Mingkan, witnessing this for the first time, was awed but schooled his expression—a skill honed under Steward Qin’s tutelage. The old lady noted this with satisfaction.

Shop after shop, the managers regaled them with flattery and recent earnings, the staggering sums astonishing Jicheng. Yet he admired his mother’s shrewdness—these savvy men obeyed her without question.

By day’s end, Jicheng’s smile had faded. His mother’s announcement of introducing estate stewards in a few days drained him further. Only after dinner did he retreat to his quarters, stifled by the rigid formalities. When Mingkan lingered, Jicheng stopped him. “No need to follow—I know the way. You must be hungry—go eat.”

Mingkan was barely fifteen years old, only a year older than Chunfu, and still very much a child in appearance. He truly couldn’t bring himself to order such a young boy around. Sure enough, Mingkan’s face lit up with joy, and after a quick bow, he dashed away. Earlier, Jicheng had heard Mingkan’s stomach growling, and now, watching his cheerful retreating figure, he suddenly remembered that fourteen-year-old Chunfu should be just as carefree, yet she was burdened with bearing his child to sustain their household.

The silver moon hung silently in the sky, its light casting the bare branches’ shadows onto the walls and ground. As he gazed, Jicheng sighed. Life in the Mu residence was unbearably difficult. His heart ached with longing for that woman—he wanted to kiss her, hold her, and share the utmost joy of the world with her. Unaware that his eyes had misted over under the hazy moonlight, he wore a faint, absent-minded smile. Just as he was lost in thought, the voice of Mu Hong reached his ears. Turning his head, Jicheng saw Mu Hong holding a jug of wine, occasionally taking swigs from it.

“Thinking of your wife at home? I’m your own elder brother, yet I haven’t even laid eyes on my sister-in-law.”

Jicheng merely smiled without answering. After a moment, he said, “Elder brother, you should return inside to drink in this winter cold. Drinking out here will only fill your belly with chilly wind and give you a stomachache.”

Mu Hong chuckled lowly. “I’m just drowning my sorrows in wine. Unlike you, second brother, I don’t have a beloved by my side. It seems fate is unkind—my affections have all been cast to the wind.” The woman he loved had become betrothed to another, leaving him with nothing but heartache. The determination he once had to climb higher suddenly lost its strength, and he no longer cared to look back. At first glance, he had fallen for her, and she had vowed to wait for him to earn his scholarly honors, promising to marry him once he became an official in the capital. Yet before long, she had broken her word.

Jicheng didn’t know how to console him. He merely looked up at the moon and said, “Elder brother, don’t grieve. My words may not be pleasant, but don’t take offense. Perhaps she had reasons she couldn’t speak of—or perhaps she simply didn’t invest her heart as deeply as you did.”

Mu Hong knew this, yet hearing it from Jicheng still felt like needles piercing his heart. With a bitter laugh, he raised the wine jug and took several large gulps. After a long silence, he said, “I’ll be fine. At worst, I’ll live alone outside. Mother may have her intentions, but she can’t force me. But you… Mother disapproves of your wife’s status. You’ll likely have to put in more effort.” He couldn’t say more. Their mother had waited decades for Jicheng, and no matter what mistakes she made, they stemmed from her love for him. The most Mu Hong could do was offer a warning, leaving it to them to find a way to persuade her.

Jicheng fell silent, his smile stiffening. So that was it. Chunfu was clever and quick-witted—she must have endured much hardship. No wonder she had sighed in relief upon hearing their mother was returning to the capital, her whole demeanor brightening. She had truly suffered.

The winter night was too cold, and the two didn’t linger long before parting ways. Jicheng tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. He didn’t want his mother to dislike Chunfu. Naturally, his heart leaned more toward Chunfu—first because he genuinely loved her, and second because she was sensible and never once offended his mother. There must have been some misunderstanding. Tomorrow, he would have to speak up for Chunfu in front of his mother.

Jicheng had never been particularly eloquent, and the words he painstakingly crafted to foster harmony between the two sides came out awkward and strained. Yet Lady Mu paid them no heed. No matter how highly he praised Chunfu, she merely smiled. After a long while, she finally said, “My son, you’ve seen too little of the world, so you think she’s the best. But there are countless fine women out there. Let’s not speak of this anymore. These next few days, prepare yourself properly—it’s time to pay respects to the Mu ancestors.”

Jicheng had no choice but to set aside his words for later. What preparations could a simple farmer like him possibly make? Still, he followed her instructions—bathing, reciting scriptures—though he stumbled through the rituals. Fortunately, Mingkan was there to assist, sparing him too much embarrassment.

The Mu ancestral hall stood at the farthest end of the estate, meticulously maintained by dedicated caretakers. The altar was laden with exquisite pastries and dishes, and rows of ancestral tablets bore inscriptions he couldn’t read. The place felt suffocatingly solemn. Kneeling beside his mother, he listened as she addressed the ancestors.

“Your second son wandered for decades. This daughter-in-law dares not blame Father, for it must have been your blessings that allowed me to find him again. My husband never had the chance to meet our youngest son in life, but now, seeing him, his heart can rest at ease. The Mu family thrives today, all thanks to our ancestors’ protection—our business prospers, and our household flourishes.”

The atmosphere before the ancestors was heavy. Only after his mother finished speaking did Jicheng kneel on the cushion and kowtow three times. Outside waited the Mu family’s elderly servants, those who had served the old master and now bore witness. Years ago, the old master had refused to add the second son’s name to the family register, a grievance Lady Mu had long harbored. Now that this lingering obsession was resolved, her heart felt lighter, and her smile deepened.

“You may leave now. I wish to speak with your father alone.” She could never forget her husband’s indulgence and affection. His regrets had run deeper than hers, and now she had countless words to share with him. She had always wished he could walk slower, so she might catch up to him. In their youth, when they spoke of life and death, he had always said he would wait for her, no matter where. Had he meant it? With her heart’s burden lifted, perhaps she could enjoy a few more years of peace. She hoped he wouldn’t begrudge her this hard-won happiness.

Before Jicheng had entered the Mu household, the servants had treated him with polite indifference. Some, disdainful of his rustic demeanor, had whispered behind his back. He knew but merely laughed it off—he had grown up in the countryside; where would he have learned the airs of nobility? He paid them no mind, letting them talk as they pleased. But today, emerging from the ancestral hall, he found everyone bowing respectfully, addressing him as “Second Master,” a title he found hard to adjust to.

Mingkan, trailing behind him, snorted. “They’re all sycophants. My father says servants should never have such mindsets.”

Jicheng’s smile remained unchanged, though inwardly he sighed at the boy’s naivety. If he took such matters to heart, how could he ever live in peace? Let them talk. What truly weighed on him was another matter—nearly half a month had passed, and he was thinking of leaving after his father’s birthday if nothing urgent arose. With Chunfu alone at home, his heart was restless, yearning to see her again for peace of mind.

When he mentioned this to his mother, her expression immediately darkened, her eyes brimming with tears. “Now that you have a wife, you no longer want your mother? Our time together has been so short—how can you speak of leaving so soon? No, you can’t go back yet. I’ll send capable maids to attend to her.”