To Marry the Elder Brother of One's Late Husband - Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Borrowing a “Seed” from the Eldest Uncle

To speak of it was like a dream. In the end, Jiang Shu had indeed married Lu Changyi, the Heir of the Marquis of Xinyang. In one leap, she had ascended to the heavens, becoming a noble lady envied by all.

Years ago, when the Marquis of Xinyang, Lu Lin, was serving as a governor in Liangzhou, he was ambushed by enemies. Jiang Wenhuan, then a local official, led troops to his aid and saved the Marquis’s life.

The Lu family was a prestigious clan of unparalleled wealth; the Jiang family, meanwhile, had been simple scholars and farmers for generations. To put it bluntly, Jiang Wenhuan wasn’t even fit to carry Lu Lin’s shoes.

No one expected that to repay this life-saving debt, Lu Lin would promise his heir’s marriage. He arranged a betrothal between his three-year-old son, Lu Changyi, and the Jiang family’s one-year-old eldest daughter by a concubine, Jiang Shu.

Over a decade passed. Jiang Wenhuan was promoted to the capital, Bianjing. In those years, the two families had no contact. Jiang Wenhuan assumed the Marquis looked down on their low status and intended to break the promise.

Though slighted, Jiang Wenhuan didn’t dare ask. Once Jiang Shu reached marriageable age, he betrothed her to a neighbor, a scholar named Ye Qian. Surprisingly, just as they were preparing for the wedding, the Marquis’s steward arrived with betrothal gifts.

This “pie from the sky” hit the Jiang family so hard they were left dazed. Jiang Wenhuan and his wife, Lady Yang, schemed together, returned all of the Ye family’s gifts, and ordered Jiang Shu to marry Lu Changyi.

Jiang Shu and Ye Qian were childhood sweethearts with deep feelings. Upon hearing she was to be married off to the Marquis’s estate, she fought tooth and nail. She even put a noose around her neck, but in the end, she couldn’t get her way.

Jiang Shu was not a clingy person; she had a decisive, resilient spirit. She had tried her best, and since she and Ye Qian were fated to be apart, she forced herself to let the feelings go.

The Marquis was not at fault, nor was the Heir. The fault lay with her father’s weak will in promising her to two families. Since she had married Lu Changyi, she would fulfill her duty as a wife and treat him well.

Lu Changyi was exceptionally handsome. Unfortunately, he was like a paper lantern hanging from a high eave—beautiful to look at, but fragile and easily broken. Forget a rainstorm; even a slight breeze would leave him bedridden for days.

It had been seven months since Jiang Shu married into the Marquis’s estate, and Lu Changyi had already fallen ill over thirty times.

Currently, he is suffering from a high fever. The servants, accustomed to this, called for a doctor and prepared hot water with practiced ease.

Jiang Shu stayed by his side, wringing out a cloth in cool water to wipe his body. As she tended to him, she comforted him softly: “Heir, bear with it a little longer. The doctor is on his way.”

Lu Changyi opened his eyes to look at her. Jiang Shu was already beautiful, but under the candlelight, she looked as soft as jade and as delicate as a flower. Her skin was like fine mutton-fat jade, white with a rosy tint, more dazzling than crabapple blossoms in spring.

His wife was as beautiful as an immortal, tenderly wiping his body. Wherever her soft hands touched, it felt like a prairie fire, making the heat within his body surge even more violently.

He raised his arm, grasping Jiang Shu’s hand and guiding it to that soft, limp place. He whispered, “Shu’er, show me some mercy (pity me)!”

Logically, since he had a high fever, Jiang Shu should have advised him to rest. But seeing his watery, longing eyes, she couldn’t say no. He was so frail he couldn’t even leave the house; what other joy did he have? Missing one chance wouldn’t make his health any better.

Jiang Shu glanced toward the outer room. Seeing the maids busy, she grasped that place and slowly closed her fingers, beginning a gentle movement.

Unfortunately, that most vital spot was like a silent, dry well. Even if he felt like he was burning up, not a drop of “spring water” could be produced.

Jiang Shu’s birth mother, Lady Lin, was a concubine. In the world of concubines, one might not know how to manage a household, but one was well-versed in the “arts of the bedroom.” The night before Jiang Shu’s wedding, Lady Lin had specifically taught her. Because Lu Changyi was weak, Lady Lin taught her styles that other brides wouldn’t know.

On their wedding night, Jiang Shu had prostrated herself over Lu Changyi, essentially “splitting herself in two” like a sacrifice to consummate the marriage. She only remembered the pain; she felt none of the expected shyness. Lu Changyi was gentle, cleaning her body afterward and holding her tenderly as they slept.

Later, Jiang Shu learned that on that night, Lu Changyi had taken potent aphrodisiacs to complete the rite. In the six months since, they had tried, but Lu Changyi would always lose steam at the critical moment.

The heat in his body was slowly swallowed by disappointment. Lu Changyi quietly pressed his legs together, closed his eyes in defeat, and whispered, “I am wasting your life. Go get a brush and ink. I will write a letter of divorce and set you free. You are young and beautiful; you shouldn’t be…”

Jiang Shu stopped him mid-sentence, covering his lips with her hand. “What nonsense are you talking about? Never mention divorce again. I come from a humble background. Before marrying you, I spent my days doing needlework until my eyes nearly went blind, and I couldn’t even afford a silk shirt.”

“Look at me now. I wear pure gold ornaments and fine silks. I eat delicacies. Not only have you given me a life of luxury, but you also cherish me like the pupil of your eye. No one treats me better than you. If I were to have a change of heart over that matter, I wouldn’t deserve to live in this world.”

Lu Changyi’s health was poor, but his heart was good. With his sincerity, even if he could never “perform,” Jiang Shu would have no complaints. Early in their marriage, he had handed over all his private property to her, giving her endless gold and silver. Having suffered from poverty in her youth, she knew the value of money better than anyone. He gave her wealth and respect; she would return the favor with care.

She slid off her shoes and lay beside him, spooning him and wrapping her arm around his waist. “You are weak. Once you recover, everything will be fine. We are husband and wife; as long as our hearts are together, there will be no distance. No matter what, I will stay true to you.”

As she pressed against him, Lu Changyi felt her warmth. She was healthy, and her body was warm year-round. Being with her gave him hope. He turned over, hugged her back, and pressed his face into her neck. “I will take care of myself. There must be some improvement eventually.”

They held each other tenderly until a knock at the door signaled the doctor’s arrival. Doctor Wen checked his pulse and prescribed medicine as usual.

After serving him his medicine, it was time for Jiang Shu to pay respects to the Matriarch. The Marchioness, Lady Zhao, looked down on Jiang Shu’s birth. When she first married in, Jiang Shu suffered much under her. Fortunately, Lu Changyi protected her fiercely. Whenever Lady Zhao mistreated her, he would make a scene. No mother can win against a fragile child; fearing for his health, Lady Zhao backed off. She still gave Jiang Shu the cold shoulder, but she didn’t dare torment her openly.

Jiang Shu entered the West Hall and saw the Third Young Madam, Hu Lingshuang, sitting on a chaise longue. Hu was not a typical fragile beauty; she had full lips and upturned eyes that gave her a flirtatious air. She gave a half-hearted greeting of “Second Sister-in-law” and sat back down before Jiang Shu could even respond.

Ignoring the slight, Jiang Shu bowed to Lady Zhao. “Daughter-in-law pays respects to Mother. May Mother be blessed with health.”

Lady Zhao gave a lukewarm response, then turned to Hu Lingshuang. “Since you are indisposed, you don’t need to serve me. Go back to your pavilion and rest.”

Hu Lingshuang smirked, stroking her still-flat belly. “Filial piety comes first, but my body is uncooperative. The little one in my womb tosses and turns at night, leaving me exhausted during the day. I truly have no strength to serve Mother.”

She glanced at Jiang Shu with a triumphant look and swayed her hips as she walked out. A fetus not even a month old cannot have “fetal movements”; she was simply flaunting her pregnancy.

As soon as she left, Lady Zhao’s expression soured. She glared at Jiang Shu. “You’ve been here for half a year. Why is there no movement? You must hurry, or the Hu family’s nieces will take everything.”

The Marquis had one wife and two concubines. Lady Zhao had been childless for years, so the previous Marchioness gave the Marquis a maid, Lady Yun. Yun gave birth to the eldest son, Lu Changji, but died shortly after. Zhao raised Changji as her own, but later had her own biological son, Lu Changyi, and a daughter.

During Zhao’s pregnancy, the Marquis fell for Hu Lan and brought her in as a noble concubine. Hu Lan gave birth to a son, Lu Changfeng, and had been rivals with Lady Zhao for years. Zhao refused to lose the “descendant war.”

Jiang Shu felt like she had swallowed a bitter gall. Lu Changyi couldn’t perform; how could she get pregnant? But a man’s pride is at stake—if word got out that the Heir was impotent, how could he survive?

“The Heir is in poor health, perhaps we should wait—”

“Wait for what?!” Lady Zhao interrupted harshly. “With your status, marrying into this house is a miracle. If you can’t produce an heir, what right do you have to be the Heir’s wife? I give you three months. If you aren’t pregnant by then, I will write a letter of divorce and send you back to your family.”

Divorce?

Jiang Shu’s vision went black. She began to tremble. In this era, a divorced woman was a death sentence. It would ruin her family’s reputation and even cause her father and brothers to be demoted. Most divorced women ended up committing suicide or dying of misery within days.

Her father was cold and selfish; if she were sent back, she would have no choice but to die. She had only tasted six months of the “good life”; she could not let it end. Even if she had to do something immoral, she had to save herself.

She retreated to the small kitchen to clear her head. There, she overheard two old servant women gossiping.

“Did you hear about the Zhang family in Double Fish Alley?” one asked. “The second son died without an heir. His wife, Lady Jiang, was treated terribly by her mother-in-law. But then, three months after he died, she was found to be pregnant!”

“She slept with another man?” the other asked.

“The child was Zhang,” the servant whispered. “But it wasn’t the second son’s. She ‘borrowed a seed’ from the eldest brother! Since it’s the same bloodline, she figured it wasn’t betraying the ancestors.”

The servants were just gossiping, but Jiang Shu felt as if they were talking about her. Her situation was exactly like that woman’s.

If that woman could borrow a seed from the Eldest Uncle (the husband’s older brother)… could she do the same?