My Husband Never Oversteps The Bounds Of Propriety - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Substitute Marriage

As the twelfth lunar month began, the northern lands grew increasingly bitter. Within the Shen Estate, undercurrents surged; due to the economic downturn, several servants had already been dismissed.

The night wind was fierce, following several recent snowfalls. The gusts swept up residual snow, battering the dim, yellow silk lanterns hanging along the corridors. The swaying shadows stretched Shen Jiuyuan’s slender figure, making it flicker long and short against the ground.

Shen Jiuyuan traversed the corridor, stepping down the stairs from the pavilion.

Voices drifted toward her ears, carried by the wind and snow.

“The dowry from the Su family of Jiangnan—a full one hundred and twenty-eight carrying-chests—fills half the courtyard. I heard that Young Master Su Jin is a man of refined romanticism, one in ten thousand…”

Two little maids, clutching hand-warmers, came chattering from the other end of the gallery. Their voices stopped abruptly the moment they bumped into Jiuyuan.

The two exchanged a glance, hurriedly bowed, and brushed past her. Their whispers trailed back on the wind:

“What a pity. The Legitimate Miss caused such a scene… is this overwhelming fortune really going to fall on her instead?”

The Su Clan of Jiangnan—imperial merchants and great tycoons—were wealthy enough to rival a nation.

The Shen Clan had built its foundation on military merit and controlled the salt and iron of the North. They appeared illustrious, but internally, due to the extravagance of their sons and enormous expenditures, they were already stretched thin. An alliance through marriage with the Su family was a crucial move for the head of the Shen family, Shen Ji—her father in name only—to stabilize his power and fill the financial void.

And the chosen pawn was the eldest legitimate granddaughter, Shen Zhilan.

Jiuyuan’s expression didn’t flicker; her pale, beautiful face remained as calm as still water. She silently walked down the steps and continued for a distance. Ahead lay a winding path paved with old bricks; she could hear the slight rustle of her hem against the ground.

A few more steps and a turn led to the Madder Garden. The garden was practically abandoned. Three years ago, when Jiuyuan’s mother died under mysterious circumstances, the Shen family had buried her here in haste. Because of her mother’s lowly status, the family didn’t even allow her to enter the Shen ancestral graveyard.

In that mound of wild grass lies my mother. At the thought of this, Jiuyuan felt a grief so sharp she wanted to cry.

“Miss Jiuyuan,” a steady voice called from behind. It was the head matron by the Old Lady’s side, Matron Zhao.

Matron Zhao’s face wore its usual, perfectly measured respect, but her eyes held not a trace of warmth. “The Old Lady requests your presence.”

Jiuyuan thought to herself: It has finally come.

Jiuyuan’s hands were icy. She couldn’t help but half-clench her thin fists in secret, yet her face showed no trace of emotion. She merely nodded politely. “I trouble the Matron to lead the way.”

Jiuyuan had originally intended to visit her mother; the grave was just next door, barely a hundred meters away. But now, it was impossible.

Matron Zhao led the way, walking extremely fast, likely on the Old Lady’s orders. Jiuyuan took a breath and followed closely behind. They turned onto another path and hurried along, soon arriving at the Xianqin Courtyard.

Xianqin Courtyard was a quiet retreat built by the family head, Shen Ji, for the Old Lady. Though the courtyard wasn’t large, it contained over a dozen rooms. At this moment, inside the Hall of Longevity and Peace, a rich fragrance lingered, and the floor heating made the room as warm as the third month of spring.

Old Lady Shen sat regally on a red sandalwood Luohan bed, wearing an ochre brocade padded robe embroidered with the “Ten Thousand” character gold-thread pattern. A “Lady Zhaojun” velvet headband sat across her forehead. Seeing Jiuyuan enter, a faint smile flickered across the Old Lady’s normally stern face.

Seated below the Old Lady was Shen Ji’s legal wife, the current mistress of the house, Madam Zhou—who was also Shen Zhilan’s biological mother.

Madam Zhou was a woman in her late thirties. Due to meticulous care, her face was plump and hydrated; she wore a light layer of rouge that looked somewhat seductive under the lamplight.

“Greetings to Grandmother and Mother.” Jiuyuan folded her hands and bowed. Her voice was clear and cool, like jade fragments falling onto a plate.

Madam Zhou raised her eyes, her sharp gaze sweeping over Jiuyuan. Jiuyuan was still wearing last year’s cotton dress; the hem was frayed, and the material was of the commonest sort.

Yet Jiuyuan’s face was such that even without a speck of powder, it was enough to make the room shine.

Seeing this face made Madam Zhou think of Jiuyuan’s mother. The mother had looked just like the daughter—as bright as a lotus and radiant as the stars—the kind of woman who could make a man lose his soul just by standing there. A surge of disgust rose in Madam Zhou’s heart, and her tone became impatient: “Get up. I called you here because there is something you must do.”

The Old Lady nodded slowly, her face masked with a layer of perfectly timed compassion.

“Zhilan, that child… she accidentally caught a cold yesterday. The illness came on fiercely, and she is bedridden.” The Old Lady paused, her gaze landing on Jiuyuan’s face. “The wedding date between the Shen and Su families is set for three days from now. There is no room for change. The Su family’s welcoming party has already reached the post-station outside the city.”

The Old Lady stopped there, pulling a plain silk handkerchief from her sleeve to dab the corner of her mouth. Though she didn’t say the second half of the sentence, the implication was clear: the marriage between the Su and Shen families must proceed at all costs.

Jiuyuan sneered inwardly.

A cold? Given Shen Zhilan’s temperament, she had been throwing tantrums for months ever since hearing she would be married off to Jiangnan. Yesterday, she had even threatened suicide, smashing a room full of porcelain and antiques—the commotion was likely heard by half the estate. Now, they were simply looking for an excuse to find a substitute.

The Old Lady was truly grand; at her age, she was willing to play along with Shen Ji and Madam Zhou’s drama.

While Jiuyuan despised these people in her heart, she showed no emotional ripples on the surface. She merely lowered her eyes and remained silent, waiting for the rest.

Seeing Jiuyuan’s silence, Madam Zhou assumed she was timid. Her tone softened slightly, yet remained cold and sharp:

“Jiuyuan, though you are concubine-born, you are still of Shen blood. Now that the family needs you, you must step forward. Since Zhilan is ill, you shall take her place in this marriage.”

Madam Zhou spoke with high-sounding words, as if she were bestowing a magnificent grace upon Jiuyuan.

“Substitute for the marriage?”

Jiuyuan finally raised her eyes. Her gaze was clear, reflecting the candlelight in the hall, causing Madam Zhou’s heart to skip a beat.

Madam Zhou wondered: Could Jiuyuan be planning to refuse? If so, she would have to use the family’s power to force her—even if she had to drag her onto the bridal sedan.

“Mother, your daughter lacks both talent and virtue. I fear I might bring shame to the family name and neglect Young Master Su.”

“Hmph, if not for the lack of choice, how could such a good thing ever fall into your lap?”

The head maid standing beside Madam Zhou couldn’t help but interject, only to be glared back into silence by Madam Zhou.

The Old Lady sighed, her tone carrying a hint of pity:

“Child, we know we are slighting you. But the rise and fall of the family depends on this journey. Go with peace of mind; the Shen family will not mistreat you. We will send people to properly tend to your biological mother’s grave, ensuring the incense burns throughout the seasons. As for your brother at the border, we will also make arrangements to ensure his safety.”

Carrot and stick, grace and threat. The mother’s peace and the brother’s future were the swords hanging over Jiuyuan’s head—and the reins tied around her neck.

Jiuyuan pursed her lips in silence. She hated them to the extreme. If not for these people, how could her mother have died so mysteriously?

How could her brother, not even seventeen, have been sent to the border to join the army?

Now, the Old Lady actually used Jiuyuan’s mother and brother to coerce her. It was truly a knife to the heart. Though the knife was bloodless, every word was soaked in bitterness, making Jiuyuan’s hatred surge until she wanted to turn on them instantly.

But she endured.

Before her mother died, she had gripped Jiuyuan’s hand tightly, clinging to life, refusing to step onto the path to the Yellow Springs, whispering through tears:

“Yuan’er… live… find out…” The unfinished words had become Jiuyuan’s only obsession in her midnight dreams over the years. And there was her only brother, still struggling to survive at the bitter-cold border.

Because of this, what Jiuyuan needed most right now was power, status, and a legitimate identity—to uncover the truth of her mother’s wrongful death and to protect her distant brother.

The Shen family had always discarded Jiuyuan like a worn-out shoe. Now, they were personally sending her onto this path that might lead to the pinnacle of the blue clouds—or to total destruction.

How could Jiuyuan possibly refuse! How could she let this only chance slip away!

Thinking of this, Jiuyuan slowly knelt. Her forehead touched the icy gold-brick floor, her voice carrying a trace of perfectly measured obedience and humility.

“Your granddaughter obeys. I am willing to share the family’s burdens.”

Madam Zhou and the Old Lady exchanged a glance, both breathing a sigh of relief. A sliver of a smile even appeared on Madam Zhou’s face:

“Good child, get up quickly. This is what a good daughter of the Shen family looks like. Someone, take the Second Miss down. Have her washed and dressed properly. In three days, she shall be married off with great pomp!”

“Jiuyuan thanks Grandmother and Mother.” Jiuyuan bowed her head and responded respectfully. Madam Zhou said:

“You may leave.”

Jiuyuan bowed one last time to the Old Lady and Madam Zhou, then rose and exited with lowered eyes.

Outside, the wind and snow grew fiercer, blowing her sleeves about. Jiuyuan looked back once at the brightly lit hall. Her eyes were icy, without a trace of the previous timidity.

Returning to her secluded, cramped courtyard, Jiuyuan bolted the door. She retrieved a yellowed, tattered old book from a secret compartment under her bed. The cover had no title, but the inside was filled with illustrations of rare flowers and herbs, documenting exquisite medical theories and poisonous recipes.

This was the only relic her mother had left behind.

Jiuyuan held the book to the lamplight, flipping through the pages. She stopped at the ninth page.

On the yellowed paper was a drawing of a plant, with a line of small characters written beside it:

Arrow of Peace.

Jiuyuan’s slender finger brushed over the botanical illustration, her lips curling into a faint, cold arc.

“Shen Zhilan, since you are unwilling to marry, then stay ‘ill.’ This overwhelming fortune—I, your younger sister, humbly accept.”

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