To Marry the Elder Brother of One's Late Husband - Chapter 18

Chapter 18: Seduction

Zhu-er was Jiang Shu’s trusted confidante. Jiang Shu might guard herself against others, but she never hid anything from Zhu-er.

Zhu-er understood Jiang Shu’s bitterness. Her brother-in-law (Jiang Shu’s husband) was as fragile as a paper doll—here today and possibly gone tomorrow—and he was useless in the bedroom. The Second Young Madam had to look out for her own future.

She nodded and gave Jiang Shu a firm guarantee: “The Marquis of Xinyang’s estate is only so large. I will certainly find out the Eldest Young Master’s itinerary clearly. I won’t let you down.”

Some things are easier said than done. Lu Changji was devoted to government affairs; aside from returning home to sleep at night, he rarely had leisure time for entertainment. Zhu-er busied herself for several days before finally picking up a few clues.

“Aside from handling official business, the Eldest Young Master spends his time reading. On his days of rest, he occasionally visits Biyun Terrace to enjoy the scenery, but not every time. A few days ago, he did go to a teahouse once, but in the past six months, he has only visited such a place that one time.”

The more Zhu-er spoke, the more ashamed she felt. Her head drooped lower and lower, feeling that the information she had gathered was useless and a waste of Jiang Shu’s time.

Jiang Shu let out a soft sigh. “The Eldest Young Master is a man of noble character, and the people around him keep their mouths shut tight. Forget you—even if I went personally, I doubt I’d find much.”

“Go and keep watch at the front courtyard. As soon as he returns to the estate, come back and tell me immediately.”

With that, Jiang Shu moved to the side room and opened the wardrobe. She crouched down and tucked the handkerchief Lu Changji had lent her into her sleeve pocket.

If the mountain will not come to me, I must go to the mountain. Since she couldn’t track his movements, she would simply wait for him to finish his shift and return the handkerchief.

Jiang Shu was well aware of her own advantages. She was beautiful, and her figure was one in ten thousand. Before she was married, she had been troubled by her own fullness; her chest was so “towering” that it felt quite imposing at first glance. Since the current fashion favored a “willow-in-the-wind” slender physique, she had once been distressed by her curves.

After her wedding, her aunt had whispered in her ear, telling her that men loved a body like hers most—once they touched it, they would likely drown in that “gentle village” of flesh.

Thinking of her aunt’s words, Jiang Shu silently changed into a slightly loose undergarment and layered it with an outer robe as thin as a cicada’s wing. Usually, the robe looked unremarkable, but if it touched water, it would create quite a different sight.

After dressing, Jiang Shu looked at herself in the bronze mirror. Seeing that her attire was proper and without flaw, she felt relieved.

Just as she was about to sit down for tea, Fang Yu knocked and entered. Fang Yu bowed and said warmly, “Second Young Madam, the third Miss Zhao has arrived. The Marchioness requests that you come to Yanxi Hall to keep her company.”

The “Third Miss Zhao” Fang Yu mentioned was Zhao Yingyun, Lady Zhao’s niece. She was the legitimate daughter of the Zhao family and had become famous throughout the capital at the age of fourteen for her poem, The Ode to the Vermillion Gate. Even though Jiang Shu rarely stepped out of the house, she had heard of Zhao Yingyun’s talent.

Jiang Shu was, after all, the wife of the heir of the Marquis’s house. Although Lady Zhao rarely took her out to socialize now, whenever distinguished guests visited, she would almost always be called to accompany them.

Zhao Yingyun came from a prestigious family and had a wide social circle. If Jiang Shu could befriend her, she might be able to step into the aristocratic circles of the capital even without Lady Zhao’s introduction.

The matter of pregnancy was still an uncertainty; if Jiang Shu could integrate into the noble social circles, she wouldn’t have to worry about finding a match for Jiang Rong before Yang Shi could force her into a bad marriage.

At this thought, Jiang Shu’s steps became exceptionally light. In less than the time it takes to finish a cup of tea, she entered Yanxi Hall.

Zhao Yingyun was almost exactly as she had imagined. She dressed elegantly but simply, with only a single mutton-fat jade hairpin in her hair. Her look was plain but far from simple, subtly exuding a low-key air of nobility—the kind of grace only a family of great wealth and status could cultivate over generations.

Jiang Shu was beautiful, but she lacked that ethereal, detached noble air. Because she wanted something, her warmth toward Zhao Yingyun was almost calculatingly polite.

Zhao Yingyun also intended to befriend Jiang Shu. Since both had the desire to be close, they soon became well-acquainted.

When Zhao Yingyun left, Jiang Shu gifted her a sachet and invited her to come over the following day for tea and snacks.

Relationships are built on reciprocity; people get closer through these back-and-forth interactions. Since Jiang Shu invited her for tea, Zhao Yingyun would eventually have to return the favor to maintain etiquette. It would be even better if she invited Jiang Shu back when the Zhao family held a banquet.

…

After seeing off Zhao Yingyun, Lu Changji returned home. Jiang Shu freshened up and, under the cover of night, headed toward Canaan Courtyard.

Unlike the magnificent splendor of Xinchun Pavilion, Canaan Courtyard was decorated in a primitive and minimalist style. Even the servants were few and far between; only Cheng Yong stood on duty in front of the main house.

Jiang Shu walked up and asked politely, “Mr. Cheng, has my brother-in-law returned?”

Cheng Yong replied, “You’ve come at just the right time, Second Young Madam. The Master has just returned and is currently in the bedroom changing clothes. If you have urgent business, please wait in the flower hall for a moment.”

The flower hall was very quiet. After a servant served Jiang Shu a cup of tea, he withdrew silently. Thus, the large hall was left to Jiang Shu alone.

Jiang Shu picked up the teacup and took a few sips. Once the remaining tea had turned lukewarm, she tilted her fair wrist and spilled most of the tea onto her chest, then “accidentally” dropped the cup to the floor.

The warm tea soaked into her clothes bit by bit. The thin outer robe clung to her skin, clearly tracing the contours and shape of the “peaks” beneath, making them appear even more towering and eye-catching.

Jiang Shu’s heart rate accelerated, and her ears turned red. She took a deep breath, reached her arm inside her robe, and pulled her loose undergarment to one side, slightly exposing the curve of one breast.

Through the soaked, thin fabric, that glowing white side-profile was clearly visible.

Steady footsteps sounded outside the door. Jiang Shu knew the person arriving was Lu Changji.

She stood up, pretending to look for something to cover herself with. Her eyes searched the room with exaggerated urgency. Looking around, there was only a curio shelf and six sandalwood armchairs—not even a single curtain to hide behind.

This was Jiang Shu’s first time doing something so scandalous and immoral. She was terrified Lu Changji would see through her. The summer was already hot, but out of guilt, she felt like she was sitting on needles, and a layer of fragrant sweat broke out over her body.

Beads of sweat slid down her neck and into her collar. Staring at her own lapel, Jiang Shu reached out to untie her belt, making a move as if to wring the moisture out of her clothes.

Her timing was perfect. Just as she loosened the belt, the door was pushed open, and Lu Changji’s tall, slender figure appeared before her.