To Marry the Elder Brother of One's Late Husband - Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Sister-in-law, Please Wait

Jiang Shu felt gratitude toward Lu Changyi and respected him. She was willing to care for him with all her heart and did not mind sharing a life with him, yet she felt a singular aversion to physical intimacy with him.

She knew she lacked the romantic passion a woman should feel for a man.

But what did that matter? He was her husband. If not for his poor health, they would have been a “true” couple long ago. It was her duty to be close to him.

Suppressing her urge to push him away, Jiang Shu lay down with Lu Changyi upon the canopy bed.

The water clock ticked away the seconds, and a rustling sound persisted within the bed curtains. After about fifteen minutes, a long, heavy sigh broke the silence, followed by a deathly stillness.

Jiang Shu was as stunning as a lotus flower, her figure exquisite and lithe. Lu Changyi had lingered long upon those “snowy peaks,” and in the heat of his rising passion, things had actually seemed to take a turn for the better.

Gathering his courage, he had decisively pulled away her undergarments. But to his horror, the moment he touched the “entrance to the alley,” he collapsed entirely.

There was no situation more humiliating than this.

Lu Changyi’s face turned ashen; he simply did not know how to face Jiang Shu. Defeated, he rolled off her and turned toward the wall, leaving her with nothing but the sight of his thin, desolate back.

Jiang Shu wasn’t faring much better. Her chest was aching from his attempts—the skin likely chafed raw.

As Lu Changyi lay there like a dejected stray dog, she didn’t dare lift the covers to inspect herself. Instead, she quietly opened a drawer beneath the bed, felt around for a jar of Jade-Skin Ointment, and silently applied it to her chest.

The ointment was a palace-grade remedy; it felt icy and soothing against her skin, providing much-needed relief.

After a moment, Jiang Shu tried to find the words to comfort him.

But how could she? The same reassurances, repeated over and over like a turning wheel, felt tedious even to her, let alone to him.

She opened her mouth, but before she could speak, Lu Changyi said, “Go to sleep first. I’m going out for a cup of tea.”

He said “tea,” but Jiang Shu knew he was heading to the adjacent Jiaochun Garden.

Since he couldn’t leave the estate, Lu Changyi kept aggressive fighting animals in that garden for entertainment. Whenever he was frustrated, he would watch them tear at each other.

Jiang Shu personally found the animal fighting too bloody, but considering how bland and water-like his life was, she couldn’t bring herself to stop him. She only reminded him softly: “It’s late. Dress warmly so you don’t catch a chill.”

Lu Changyi nodded. Attended by his servant Changshun, he dressed and boarded a litter in the courtyard.

The moment he left, Jiang Shu felt as if an invisible shackle had been broken. She exhaled sharply, crossed to the window in a few strides, and pushed it open, letting the cool night breeze flood the room.

A night with a breeze… a cool night… What a luxury. It was truly a delight.

…

Jiang Shu slept without dreams. She woke feeling refreshed, sent a morning meal over to Jiaochun Garden for her husband, and began her own breakfast.

Just as she finished, her maid Fang Yu announced that the “Relative Lady” was asking to see her. This was Jiang Shu’s legal mother (the primary wife), Lady Yang.

Lady Yang came from a merchant background. Her family owned several shops; while not obscenely wealthy, they never lacked for anything. She had inherited the merchant’s trait of valuing profit over righteousness. She was a harsh woman and had never been kind to Jiang Shu.

Secretly, Jiang Shu had no desire to deal with her, but if she refused to see her mother, the gossips would tear her reputation to shreds.

Frowning, Jiang Shu told Fang Yu, “Show her into the parlor.”

Having not seen her for several months, Lady Yang seemed to have grown a size larger. Her massive frame was stuffed into a jujube-red dress, making her look like a moving wall of pork.

Lady Yang silently scrutinized the parlor’s decor. Even though she had seen the Marquis’s wealth before, she still clicked her tongue in awe.

Persian carpets on the floor, yellow pearwood cabinets against the walls, and a set of “sweet-white” porcelain tea cups painted with red plum blossoms. A single cup was worth five taels of silver.

How did such overwhelming fortune fall upon a wench like Jiang Shu?

Lady Yang pursed her lips, her heart sour with envy. She looked at Jiang Shu and said snidely, “Eldest Daughter has such good luck, living like an immortal at such a young age.”

“You only have today because of the painstaking schemes your father and I made for you. When you drink water, you should think of the source. You ought to repay us by helping your natal family.”

Jiang Shu sneered inwardly. Her father and Lady Yang had indeed schemed—but not for her. They had schemed for her younger sister, Jiang Ran.

The year her father saved the Marquis, Jiang Ran hadn’t been born yet, so the betrothal went to Jiang Shu. Later, when the Lu family came to fulfill the promise, Lady Yang tried to secretly swap the brides so her own daughter could marry into wealth.

However, man proposes, but God disposes. Before the wedding, Lu Changyi visited and somehow saw through the trick. He declared he would marry no one but Jiang Shu. Only then did Lady Yang break the engagement with the neighbor, Scholar Ye, and send Jiang Shu to the Marquis’s estate.

Jiang Shu wasn’t one for verbal spats, so she simply watched Lady Yang’s performance with cold eyes.

Finding it dull when Jiang Shu didn’t react, Lady Yang drained her tea and went straight to the point: “I spent so much money and effort raising you. When you married, I even emptied my savings for your dowry. I’m not asking for money, but at least let me walk tall in front of the neighbors.”

Jiang Shu couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the mention of her “dowry.”

Unlike other noble ladies, Lady Yang was a merchant at heart. Everything was about profit; reputation was never her priority. When Jiang Shu married, the Lu family provided three thousand taels of silver as a bride price. Lady Yang kept almost all of it, giving Jiang Shu only thirty crates of dowry.

Those thirty crates were filled with worthless thread and needles. The total value didn’t even reach two hundred taels. It was only because Jiang Shu had made a massive scene that her father, fearing for his official reputation, added a thousand taels—which he took directly from the Marquis’s bride price anyway. The Jiang family hadn’t spent a single penny of their own.

Seeing the eye-roll, Lady Yang shifted tactics.

“The Marquis’s estate holds banquets all the time, but they never send an invitation to the Jiangs. The neighbors say the Marquis looks down on us. I’m being drowned in their spit!”

“I’m thick-skinned, so it’s fine for me,” Lady Yang continued, “but Concubine Lin (Jiang Shu’s birth mother) is different. Her skin is as thin as paper. She’s too ashamed to leave her room. She’ll get sick if she stays cooped up like that.”

The threat was clear. Concubine Lin was a timid woman, effectively a hostage in the Jiang household. If Jiang Shu didn’t cooperate, Lady Yang would make her mother’s life a living hell.

Thinking of her mother, Jiang Shu sighed. She had to protect her.

“Since our families are joined, we should visit often,” Jiang Shu said with a forced smile. “I will send invitations to you and Second Sister tomorrow. Come for the banquet on the 15th.”

Lady Yang smirked. No matter how high this monkey jumped, she couldn’t escape the palm of her hand. Having achieved her goal, she got up to leave.

…

Jiang Shu escorted Lady Yang all the way to the main gate. As she was walking back, she caught sight of a tall, imposing figure.

The man wore a scarlet robe embroidered with cranes (a high-ranking official’s uniform). His face was handsome and refined, with a faint, calm smile.

Lu Changji.

His appearance was mild, but even a sheltered woman like Jiang Shu had heard of his reputation. He had entered officialdom after a brilliant academic career and used iron-fisted methods to purge his enemies. Those hands that held the brush were stained with the blood of many.

Jiang Shu felt a chill. How could she ever “design” against a man like this? Her thoughts of “borrowing a seed” felt like a ridiculous, dangerous joke.

Overwhelmed by shame at her own “filthy” thoughts, she turned to walk in the opposite direction.

“Sister-in-law, please wait.”

Just as she stepped away, Lu Changji’s voice rang out behind her. It was deep yet smooth—like a sword tucked into its scabbard: elegant on the outside, but brimming with a sharp edge within.