To Marry the Elder Brother of One's Late Husband - Chapter 30

Chapter 30: The Heartless One

Jiang Shu was scared out of her wits by Lu Changji’s declaration. Ignoring her disheveled state, she rushed forward and grabbed his sleeve, crying out, “Uncle, what are you doing? Madame Yang and I have our grievances, but it hasn’t come to a life-or-death struggle!”

Seeing his intense reaction, she wondered if he was acting out of concern. The thought that she had a place in Lu Changji’s heart made her feel a secret bit of pride. Her voice softened, turning as sweet as honey: “Uncle, I know you pity me and want to vent your anger on my behalf. But while Madame Yang is wrong, her sins don’t warrant death. Please, don’t be angry.”

As she spoke, she placed her hand on his chest, pretending to soothe his breathing with gentle, rhythmic strokes. Her hand was soft and tender, scratching at his composure like a kitten, only serving to fuel the fire within him.

Lu Changji’s expression darkened further. He looked down at her and rebuked in a low voice, “Jiang Shu, take your hand away. In broad daylight, what do you think you are doing?”

“Anger hurts the body,” she defended herself timidly, her eyelashes fluttering like butterfly wings as she looked at him like a startled deer. “I was worried about your health. Why are you angrier now? Have I done something wrong again?”

Lu Changji’s heart raced. He didn’t want to say another word to her. He turned to leave and ran into Cheng Yong, who had just returned.

“Sir, I have put Madame Yang on a carriage,” Cheng Yong reported.

Lu Changji nodded, then added almost compulsively, “Go fetch a set of women’s clothing and bring it to the garden.”

If she didn’t change out of those rags, how could she walk through the manor?

…

The Fate of Jiang Ran

Madame Yang returned home in a fit of rage, smashing several vases. She took Jiang Ran’s hand and warned her, “My child, we were both played by that slut Jiang Shu. Zheng Zuhe is a violent lecher; he’s beaten three concubines to death. He is no match for you. You must never see him again. Life is more important than wealth.”

But Jiang Ran knew the truth she couldn’t speak: her virtue was already gone. If she didn’t marry Zheng, she would be ruined anyway. She could only weep until her eyes were swollen like red walnuts.

However, Zheng Zuhe was still in the “honeymoon phase” of his obsession. When Jiang Ran refused his invitations, he stormed the Jiang household.

“Tell your second miss to come out,” he demanded, sitting arrogantly in the main hall.

Madame Yang faced him alone. “My Ran-er was young and foolish to offend you. From now on, she will turn over a new leaf. I hope the Heir will also behave with propriety and stop contacting her.”

Zheng Zuhe burst into laughter. “Your daughter is already mine. If you don’t let her see me, do you want her to become a nun? Everyone knows her reputation is in the gutter; I’m the only one who doesn’t mind. In five days, the Zheng Manor will open its side gate. If you’re smart, you’ll send her through it. I’ll give her the title of a ‘Noble Concubine.’ If you refuse, I’ll tell the whole world about our trysts.”

He treated her like a toy, indifferent to her mother’s pleas or his own mother’s disapproval. After delivering his ultimatum, he marched out.

Jiang Ran was devastated. “Mother, he kills his women! How can I be his concubine? Save me!”

But Madame Yang was cornered. If the scandal broke, it would ruin her son’s future. She sighed. “Ran-er, your mother is powerless. For the sake of your brother’s future… you must submit to the Heir.”

It was a bolt from the blue. Jiang Ran, seeing that even her mother had abandoned her, lost all hope. She stood up and threw herself headfirst against a heavy cabinet.

“Ran-er!” Madame Yang screamed.

The girl lay unconscious, blood streaming from her forehead. In the chaos, the usually timid Jiang Rong stepped up, directing the servants to rent a carriage and fetch a doctor. The doctor managed to pull Jiang Ran back from the brink of death, but the girl remained catatonic, her spirit seemingly broken.

…

The Failed Complaint

Madame Yang’s hatred for Jiang Shu reached a breaking point. Once Jiang Ran was stable, she rented a carriage and headed for the Xinyang Marquis Manor. She planned to tell Madame Zhao about Jiang Shu’s “venomous heart” to get her punished.

As she hurried toward the hall, she ran into Lu Changji. She bowed to him, but he ignored her, instead asking the servant, Qing Rong, “Where are you taking her?”

“The Madam ordered me to take her to the hall,” the servant replied.

“Madam is busy. Stop bothering her,” Lu Changji said dismissively before walking away.

Qing Rong was smart. In this house, if the eldest son said ‘two,’ no one dared say ‘one.’ He immediately told Madame Yang that the Madam was “suddenly occupied” and sent her away in a sedan chair.

…

The Gift of Silk Socks

Back at the manor, Jiang Shu heard of how Lu Changji had turned her stepmother away. “He helped me greatly,” she mused. “I should thank him.”

She took a pair of silk socks she had originally made for Lu Changyi (but were too large for him) and placed them in a brocade box. She brought them to Lu Changji’s hall.

Through the pearl curtains, Lu Changji saw her standing there in a primrose-yellow dress, looking as fresh as a spring willow. His breath hitched, and he looked away, snapping at Cheng Yong: “I am busy with government affairs. Why bring me such irrelevant people? In the future, turn the Second Young Mistress away directly.”

Cheng Yong was confused—his master usually helped her whenever possible. Why the cold shoulder now? He went to the door and told Jiang Shu that the Master was too busy to see her.

Jiang Shu felt a wave of disappointment mixed with relief. She handed the box to Cheng Yong. “Please give this to him. It’s a small token of my gratitude.”

When Cheng Yong brought the box inside, Lu Changji felt a hollow sense of annoyance. Heartless woman, he thought. I help her so much, and the moment I say I’m busy, she doesn’t even try to insist on coming in? She just leaves?

“Next time she sends something, refuse it,” he grumbled.

He pushed aside his work and opened the box. Inside was a pair of sky-blue silk socks, exquisitely embroidered with cranes and ruyi patterns.

Lu Changji’s lips curled into a slight smile. She may be foolish, but her needlework is superb.

I shall wear these tomorrow, he decided.