To Marry the Elder Brother of One's Late Husband - Chapter 16

Chapter 16: Climbing into Lu Changji’s Bed

Jiang Shu was quick-witted. Seeing Lu Changji’s sudden turn of the head, she understood the situation almost instantly. She looked down at her attire; the outer robe had slipped to her shoulder, exposing a fair patch of skin in a manner that looked inadvertently provocative.

She cursed her own lack of composure. In this state, she looked flighty even to herself—what must her brother-in-law think? He was a man of integrity, as upright as moonlight; what if he mistook this for a deliberate attempt at seduction?

Her mind was a tangled mess of anxiety and annoyance as she hurriedly pulled her collar together and tied the sash tight.

The atmosphere stagnated in a brief, awkward silence. Just as Jiang Shu was about to say something to break the tension, she saw Lu Changji suddenly crouch before her.

Some people are simply born with an innate dignity. Lu Changji’s back remained ramrod straight, and even while squatting on the ground, he appeared calm, elegant, and entirely composed.

He removed Jiang Shu’s shoe and took her left foot in his hand, holding it through the silk sock. Only then did he realize how small her foot was—delicate, seemingly boneless, and barely larger than his palm. His movements hesitated for a fraction of a second, and he instinctively lightened his grip.

He pressed his forefinger against several acupoints on the sole of her foot and asked in a low voice, “Where does it hurt?”

His touch was gentle, like a feather brushing against her skin, causing a faint itch that made her toes curl. Jiang Shu’s face flushed a deeper red, her heart racing. She shook her head and whispered, “It’s the ankle.”

Lu Changji moved his fingers to her ankle, rubbing the joint twice. “The joint is dislocated. Bear with it for a moment.”

With one hand gripping her foot and the other steadying her ankle, he applied a sudden, synchronized force. With a “crack,” the bone was snapped back into place.

A sharp pain shot through her, and Jiang Shu let out a soft cry. Her voice was naturally tender; that low gasp sounded, quite unintentionally, like a soft moan. Jiang Shu didn’t notice the ambiguity, only the rush of relief as the intense pain faded into a dull throb. She could manage to walk, albeit with a slight limp.

Since they were closer to the Xinchun Court than the Jiaochun Garden, Lu Changji escorted her back. Even after she settled on her canopy bed, her left foot felt hot, as if branded by his touch.

Though it was long past the hour for sleep, she felt unusually alert. She picked up some needlework to pass the time until, much later, Lu Changyi finally returned.

The moment he entered, Jiang Shu noticed red blood splatters on his hem and smelled a faint metallic scent. Though she knew it was only cock’s blood, she couldn’t help but furrow her brows in distaste.

Lu Changyi, sensing her displeasure and realizing he couldn’t be as reckless now that he had a bride, went to the washroom to bathe. When he emerged, Jiang Shu was leaning near the lamp sketching embroidery patterns. The light cast a soft glow on her skin, making her look exceptionally delicate and flawless.

As he looked closer, he realized her attire tonight was remarkably unique. The sheer gauze revealed the peach-colored bodice beneath—the “unparalleled heights” of her bosom and her slender waist making her look like a captivating spirit.

Lu Changyi felt a stir of desire, but remembering the disastrous failure of their last attempt, he felt hesitant. He didn’t dare invite her to bed directly, but sat beside her to initiate intimacy. If he “rose” to the occasion, he would take her; if not, he would act as though nothing had happened.

He placed his hand on her waist, rubbing it tentatively.

Jiang Shu felt none of the heart-fluttering “numbness” described in novels. Lu Changyi’s hand was soft and weak, no different from a woman’s. She felt no passion, but she knew she needed this. Affection could be cultivated later; for now, she needed to secure her position and conceive an heir.

She leaned boldly against his shoulder. “I waited so long for you. I tried to come find you, but I twisted my ankle. If not for Brother-in-law’s help, I might still be stuck halfway.”

Lu Changyi finally noticed her bare, swollen left foot. Guilt washed over him—she had hurt herself looking for him. He wanted to care for her but had no experience.

“Cold compress it for me,” Jiang Shu suggested gently. “It feels hot and painful.”

Relieved to have a task, Lu Changyi called for cold water. He helped her onto the bed and rested her calf on his thigh. In his clumsy fumbling, he accidentally brushed her foot against that area.

It felt soft and unresponsive. Both were flushed with embarrassment but stayed quiet while the servant, Fang Yu, was in the room. Once the servant left, Jiang Shu tried to pull her foot back, but Lu Changyi pressed down on her ankle and applied the cold cloth.

The coolness brought comfort, and Jiang Shu closed her eyes. Suddenly, she felt a change beneath her foot. It was waking up.

Overjoyed that a month of medicinal tonics had finally worked, Lu Changyi tossed the cloth aside and lunged atop her.

He was clumsy and lacked tenderness, having been spoiled his whole life. Jiang Shu didn’t interrupt him, simply turning her head to stare at the bed tassels, calculating how they were woven.

But the happiness lasted only a second. Before he could do anything, the spark vanished.

Lu Changyi was mortified and enraged at his own impotence. He rolled off her in silence, leaving her with only his back.

Jiang Shu felt a wave of despair. Between her mother’s pleas and the pressure from Madam Zhao, she saw her future crumbling. She reached out to embrace Lu Changyi from behind, offering warmth and kindness, but it only made him more bitter. The more she tried to be a good wife, the more he hated his own failure.

In his frustration, a dark thought took hold: if he couldn’t perform, he would still mark her as his. He turned back to her, and before she could react, he reached his hand toward her lower body.

Jiang Shu froze. She took a deep breath and moved away. “Is the Heir cold? Your hands are like ice.” She took his hand and laced her fingers with his, transferring her warmth to him. Seeing the gentleness in her eyes, Lu Changyi finally gave up.

…

The next morning, Jiang Shu woke with dark circles under her eyes. Her aunt, Lin-shi, arrived at the Marquis’s gate early, distraught.

“Madam Yang wants to marry Rong-er off as a concubine to an official named He,” Lin-shi sobbed. “He is over forty, older than your father, and his wife is famously cruel. They say she beats concubines to death. Rong-er is so timid; she won’t survive a year.”

Jiang Shu knew this was Yang-shi’s revenge. Since Jiang Ran’s reputation was ruined, Yang-shi would destroy Jiang Rong’s life in return. As the legal mother, Yang-shi had the right to arrange the marriage.

Jiang Shu realized she needed to find a better suitor for Rong-er—someone whose connection would benefit her father, Jiang Wenhuan. But she had no social circle. Her only option was to beg Madam Zhao.

She gave her aunt three heavy gold ornaments to bribe Yang-shi into delaying the engagement. “Go back, Auntie. Tell her these are from me. Let her know I have access to the Heir’s private treasury.”

After her aunt left, the Imperial Physician, Qin, arrived. Jiang Shu asked him point-blank: “I have been here half a year and cannot conceive. Tell me the truth—can I ever have a child?”

Physician Qin sighed. “The Heir can manage intimacy with the help of drugs, but his foundation is ruined. Even if he can perform, it is nearly impossible for you to conceive his child.”

The sword finally fell. Jiang Shu felt the light leave her eyes. She stood there, pale and hollowed out. Yet, she maintained her sanity. “Please, keep this a secret from him. He couldn’t handle the blow.”

Jiang Shu walked toward Madam Zhao’s Yanxi Hall in a daze. She had two months left. If she couldn’t have Lu Changyi’s child, she had to find another way.

Madam Zhao made her wait outside for an hour while she bathed and ate. Jiang Shu’s sprained ankle throbbed, and her heart was heavy with the knowledge of Lu Changyi’s infertility. She leaned against the doorframe for support, sweating from the pain.

Suddenly, a pair of official boots appeared in her vision—the “Liuhe” boots worn only by high-ranking ministers. Only Lu Changji wore them in this house.

Her heart tightened. She knew what she had to do. If she wanted to survive, if she wanted to save her sister and herself, she couldn’t afford to be “virtuous.”

Lu Changyi cannot do it. I must climb into Lu Changji’s bed. I must have a child to protect myself. She would conceive with Lu Changji, then use drugs on Lu Changyi to trick him into thinking the child was his.

She was so consumed by her “guilty” thoughts that she didn’t dare look up. But the boots stopped right in front of her.

“Sister-in-law, are you here to pay respects to Mother?” Lu Changji’s voice was calm as always, though his eyes drifted toward her swollen ankle. “Shall we go in together? We wouldn’t want to disturb her meal multiple times.”