My Husband Never Oversteps The Bounds Of Propriety - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The First Plot

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

The Shen Manor was adorned with lanterns and streamers, draped in red and green a scene of pure festivity. Yet beneath this celebration surged an indescribable, mysterious atmosphere. The servants moved in haste, exchanging knowing glances; the news that the Eldest Young Lady, Shen Zhilan, was gravely ill and that the Second Young Lady, Shen Jiuyuan, would be marrying in her stead had already quietly spread throughout the manor.

In the early Northern morning, the sky was the color of duck-egg cyan soaked in frigid water. Thin sunlight struggled to pierce the clouds, falling upon the glazed tiles of the Shen Manor and reflecting a cold light like frozen snow.

Early that morning, attendants dressed in brand-new green tunics bustled about like weaving shuttles, hanging red silk from the eaves and branches. Palace lanterns of the four seasons were hung everywhere, and the kitchens were a clamor of laughter and chatter. After all, today was an auspicious day: the Shen family’s concubine-born daughter, Shen Jiuyuan, was to marry the young master of the wealthy Su family from the South.

Although Shen Jiuyuan was a concubine-born daughter, because she was marrying in place of the Eldest Young Lady, Shen Zhilan, the Zhou couple had acted with a bit more grandiosity. The wedding pomp was deliberately made respectable, giving Shen Jiuyuan ample face.

Shen Jiuyuan sat in the Warm Fragrance Studio, which served as her temporary bridal chamber. Usually a place for receiving female guests, it was far more magnificent and spacious than her remote little courtyard.

In front of the purple sandalwood carved dressing table, Shen Jiuyuan’s exquisite face bore no expression as she allowed the “Full-Fortune” matrons and maids chosen by Lady Zhou to manage her. The air was thick with the scent of hair oil, rouge, and incense a mixture so heady Shen Jiuyuan nearly felt like retching.

A matron’s hands wove through Shen Jiuyuan’s waterfall-like black hair. A fine-toothed comb, dipped in hair oil infused with rose petals, combed through again and again, attempting to tame every strand until it was as smooth as satin. The stinging sensation of her hair being pulled tight at the roots came in waves, but Shen Jiuyuan seemed not to feel it, staring fixedly into the bronze mirror at the face that was being painted bit by bit into something strange and flamboyant.

The rouge was high-quality Jinling paste. A small amount was picked up with a fine hairpin, melted in the palm, mixed with dew, and patted onto her cheeks. Instantly, two brilliant peach-blossom clouds bloomed on Shen Jiuyuan’s face. Her eyebrows were shaped into the “Distant Mountain” style, extending in a graceful curve under the matron’s careful drawing. Her lips were dotted with a full coat of lip-grease in “Palace Red,” making her already snow-white skin appear even more lustrous.

“Second Young Lady look at my memory, I should be calling you Eldest Young Lady now!” The Full-Fortune matron smiled as she pinned a red-gold “kingfisher-feather” dangling pearl step-shake into Shen Jiuyuan’s hair. “I have spent half my life dressing brides, and this is the first time I have seen one so striking. Even a celestial maiden from the heavens would likely be no more than this.”

The surrounding maids also praised her in unison, yet beneath their praise, they secretly broke into a cold sweat for Shen Jiuyuan. After all, everyone knew the awkwardness and hardship that lay beneath the phoenix crown and embroidered robes.

Shen Jiuyuan’s lips twitched slightly in response a faint smile that did not reach her eyes. The person in the mirror, with delicate features and clad in magnificent robes, was indeed of a beauty that could topple nations. But beneath this absolute beauty, she felt more like a magnificent mask, concealing the countless struggles within.

The bright red wedding robe had been modified from Shen Zhilan’s measurements by dozens of embroiderers working through the night. It was made of tribute Cloud Brocade from the South, embroidered with gold thread and colored silk into intricate patterns of phoenixes singing in harmony. It shimmered brilliantly in the light, yet on Shen Jiuyuan’s frame, it still felt slightly empty. The waist, in particular, had to be secretly taken in from the inside so it would not hang too loosely.

Finally, there was the heavy gemstone phoenix crown. Sent by the Su family, it was made of red gold with kingfisher-feather inlay and encrusted with gems. Two maids carefully lifted it from a soft velvet tray and slowly placed it upon Shen Jiuyuan’s bun. It was incredibly heavy, feeling as though it might crush her slender neck. Beaded tassels hung from the crown, swaying before her eyes and clinking with a crisp, cold sound that disrupted her vision it was like a shimmering curtain of pearls separating her from the world.

“Young Lady, please endure it. This crown may look heavy, but it is the pinnacle of respectability,” Matron Zhao whispered from the side in her usual businesslike tone.

Shen Jiuyuan nodded slightly without a word. Respectability? How ironic that the Shen family’s respectability now had to be maintained by an abandoned daughter. She adjusted her breathing and straightened her back, bearing the weight of this “respectability.”

The auspicious hour approached. The sounds of drums, firecrackers, and the clamor of voices outside became clearer, rushing into the temporary seclusion of the room like a tide. A small maid ran in, out of breath, to report: “The bridal sedan has arrived outside the gates! The Su family’s welcoming procession is quite magnificent!”

Lady Zhou entered, surrounded by a group of older servants. She was dressed in her official robes as a commissioned lady, a deep purple ensemble with peony patterns. She wore pearls and emeralds, her makeup was flawless, and a perfect smile graced her face.

She stepped forward to personally tidy Shen Jiuyuan’s collar and picked up the bright red bridal veil from a nearby tray. The veil was made of the finest “soft-smoke silk,” as light as a cicada’s wing yet opaque, embroidered with gold thread in patterns of mandarin ducks playing in water.

“Shen Jiuyuan,” Lady Zhou’s voice carried a hint of manufactured sobbing as she took her hand, acting as if she were overwhelmed with grief. “After today’s parting, you are a woman of the Su family. From now on, you must strictly observe the virtues of a wife, assist your husband, and teach your children. Do not disgrace the Shen family’s reputation.”

Lady Zhou paused, her gaze lingering on Shen Jiuyuan’s face with deep meaning. “Lan’er is ill and cannot see you off; do not blame her. Once you reach the South, take good care of yourself.”

Those words take good care of yourself were light, yet they carried the weight of endless pressure and warning.

Shen Jiuyuan lowered her eyes, hiding the cold mockery flashing within. She bent her knees slightly in a standard formal bow, her voice emerging calm and rippleless through the veil that was about to cover her.

“Shen Jiuyuan bids farewell to Mother. I shall remember your years of nurturing in my heart. As I depart today, I will fulfill my duties and not fail the family’s trust.”

Shen Jiuyuan spoke the words “nurturing” and “family trust” clearly and steadily, without a trace of emotion.

Lady Zhou seemed to breathe a sigh of relief and turned to Matron Zhao, instructing: “Take careful care of the Eldest Young Lady on the journey.”

“This old servant understands,” Matron Zhao replied with a bow.

Finally, the red veil in Lady Zhou’s hands fell slowly over Shen Jiuyuan’s head, completely cutting off her vision. Only a vast, endless red remained. The sounds of the outside world were instantly amplified—footsteps, the clinking of ornaments, and her own heartbeat echoed in her ears.

Supported by a wedding matron on either side, Shen Jiuyuan rose slowly. The weight of the phoenix crown made her sway slightly, but she quickly steadied herself. Her feet stepped onto the red-carpeted floor; her skirts trailed, and her ornaments chimed in a rhythmic, solemn cadence.

They passed through corridor after corridor and gate after gate. Shen Jiuyuan could feel the countless gazes projected from along the path curious, prying, pitying, or gloating. They fell upon her back like a fine, dense mist, soaking into her inner garments along with the cold air.

In such cold weather, Shen Jiuyuan was actually sweating perhaps due to the tension.

Flickers of whispers also drifted into her ears. “Truly, how fate toys with people…” “Indeed, with such grace and beauty, if only she were legitimate…” “I hear that eldest grandson of the Su family is no simple character; who knows if she can handle such ‘fortune.” “Better than staying in the manor and watching others’ faces…”

Shen Jiuyuan ignored them all. Her senses and spirit were focused entirely on the path beneath her feet and the unknown fate ahead. Within her sleeve, her fingers curled slightly, touching a cold, hard object hidden in a secret pocket a token left by her mother. It was made of neither gold nor jade, carved with ancient patterns. it was the only clue to the mystery of her birth and her only internal reliance at this moment.

Outside the gates, the noise reached its peak. Firecrackers exploded, the scent of sulfur filled the air, and the band played the “Phoenix Seeking His Mate” tune with vigor festive and clamorous. When Shen Jiuyuan was helped over the high threshold, she could feel the bright light outside even through the veil, along with the gazes of countless people gathered there.

Shen Ji, the head of the Shen family, and Lady Zhou stood in the most prominent positions before the gates as the master and mistress of the house, accepting the guests’ congratulations. Shen Ji was dressed in his Ducal court robes, his expression solemn, occasionally nodding with great dignity. Lady Zhou maintained her flawless expression a mix of pride and reluctance.

Guided by the wedding matron, Shen Jiuyuan turned toward them and bowed deeply once more. This was the final farewell, a performance for all to see.

“Go then,” Shen Ji’s deep voice came cold and stern, still lacking any warmth.

Rising and turning, Shen Jiuyuan was supported by the wedding matron as they stepped down the white marble stairs. Every step took her further from the cage that had imprisoned her for seventeen years. Below the stairs, a grand red bridal sedan with gold embroidery, carried by eight men, waited silently for her.

The sedan was made of precious wood, finished in vermilion lacquer and painted with gold powder in patterns of children and peonies. In the thin winter sunlight, it gleamed so brightly it almost dazzled the eyes. The sedan curtain was embroidered with gold thread in the “Dragon and Phoenix bringing Prosperity” pattern, and red tassels hung from all sides.

The carriers were sturdy men dressed in uniform red silk tunics, standing solemnly. The entire procession from the honor guard and band to the servants and escorts stretched for miles, silently displaying the overwhelming wealth and deep heritage of the Su clan of the South.

Just as Shen Jiuyuan bent down, preparing to step into the sedan, an incident suddenly occurred. A gust of wind, coming from nowhere, swept past without warning. Its force was strong, abruptly lifting the front edge of Shen Jiuyuan’s bright red veil.

“Ah!” A low gasp of surprise rose from the surroundings.

In that instant, time seemed to freeze. Half of the bride’s face was exposed to the light of day—skin as fair as snow, so fine not a single pore could be seen. Her elegant nose traced a perfect profile, and her long eyelashes, like butterfly wings, cast a small, faint shadow beneath her eyes. Her vermilion lips were slightly pursed due to the sudden accident; far from being panicked, she possessed a heart-stopping, cold beauty.

Shen Jiuyuan did not even make a sound. She merely reached out her slender, jade-like hand—her fingertips steady without a hint of trembling and gracefully pulled down the veil that had been blown up, adjusting it to cover her face once more. The entire movement was as smooth as flowing water, as if she were merely brushing a speck of dust from her sleeve.

The wind passed without a trace, but it left a fleeting image in the hearts of the Su servants, the wedding guests, and the onlookers. It was a composure and aura born from her very bones, transcending mere beauty.

In the crowd, a young man wearing an indigo-colored robe of Cloud Brocade with a black fox-fur collar stood leaning against a magnificent white horse. Originally appearing somewhat nonchalant with his arms crossed, he now straightened up slightly. The playfule smile on his handsome face vanished somewhat, and a flash of undisguised surprise and interest flickered in his phoenix eyes.

He was Su Jin’s cousin, Su Yu, the legitimate son of the Su family’s second branch, representing the family to welcome the bride.

“This Miss Shen Zhilan…” Su Yu rubbed his chin and muttered to himself, his lips curving into a meaningful arc once more. “She is far more interesting than the rumors say. It seems my elder cousin’s inner courtyard is going to be lively in the future.”

Shen Jiuyuan was oblivious to this. She was already settled firmly inside the sedan. The curtain fell, completely cutting off the noise, gazes, and prying eyes of the outside world. The interior was spacious, lined with thick crimson carpet and soft cushions. In the corner sat a fixed small incense burner, emitting a light lavender fragrance.

The moment the sedan was lifted steadily, a slight feeling of weightlessness occurred. Then, the procession began to move slowly. The drums and music rose to a crescendo once more, and the firecrackers exploded again; everything returned to the surface appearance of festivity and order.

Shen Jiuyuan sat quietly. It was not until the sedan had traveled some distance and the towering gate of the Shen Manor symbolizing power and restraint had completely vanished from her line of sight that she finally took a slow, deep breath and exhaled.

Then, Shen Jiuyuan raised her hand. This time, without any hesitation, she gently lifted the heavy veil and draped it over the phoenix crown. The space before her grew bright. Shen Jiuyuan gazed through the small sedan window inlaid with glass at the unfamiliar street scenes rushing past.

Northern winter meant withered plants, orderly houses, and pedestrians with faces weathered by the frost. This was so different from the South of her imagination of apricot blossoms and spring rain. Shen Jiuyuan looked down at the magnificent, almost blinding red wedding robe she wore. The cold arc she had been suppressing at the corners of her lips finally emerged clearly.

From this day forward, she had temporarily escaped the Shen Manor. From now on, her survival was in her own hands. Whether she lived or died would no longer be at the command of anyone else. All that had passed was merely a prologue.

The bridal sedan swayed, carrying the beauty whose eyes burned with a fierce flame out of this cold Northern stronghold, toward the misty yet treacherous South. The road ahead was long and the omens uncertain. But in Shen Jiuyuan’s heart, there was no longer a shred of hesitation.

Support My Husband Never Oversteps The Bounds Of Propriety