To Marry the Elder Brother of One's Late Husband - Chapter 33

Chapter 33: Stricken by Aphrodisiacs

“What did you say?” Madam Zhao straightened up abruptly, looking at Lu Changyi in disbelief. She gasped, “You are so fond of Jiang Shu, how could you bear to… how could you bear to…”

“Mother!” Lu Changyi interrupted her. “Your son is short-lived. Shu’er is so young and beautiful; if she cannot remain faithful, what then? I cannot allow her to belong to another.”

The current social climate was open, and it was not rare for widows to remarry. Furthermore, Jiang Shu and Lu Changyi had not registered their marriage with the Ministry of Households. If Lu Changyi passed away and Jiang Shu insisted on remarrying, no one could stop her.

But it would be different if she could bear a child. With a child to anchor her, she would likely stay.

Bearing an heir was a momentous task that required much energy. Given that Lu Changyi was terminally ill, Madam Zhao technically shouldn’t have brought this up, but the thought of Jiang Shu’s flower-like face made her heart ache with pity.

She hesitated, “If the Jiang girl could bear a child…”

“If she bears a son, she lives. If she bears a daughter, she cannot live either—she must follow me into the grave.” Lu Changyi had spent half his life competing with Lu Changfeng; his greatest fear was that Lu Changfeng would seize his property and his wife.

If Jiang Shu could bear a child, she would be the mother of the future Marquis. How would Lu Changfeng dare to covet her then?

As long as he could make Lu Changfeng miserable, Lu Changyi was willing to hand over the foundation of the Marquis Manor to an outsider.

Now that Lu Changyi had relented, Madam Zhao also breathed a sigh of relief. She sat beside him and offered hollow comfort: “You are a blessed man. Stop overthinking and focus on recovering. Perhaps you and the Jiang girl will live in harmony for a lifetime!”

Though the words were sweet, both mother and son knew they were merely a beautiful hope. The prediction from the Director of the Imperial Observatory was likely about to come true.

Madam Zhao walked out of the room dejectedly. As she reached the corridor, she saw Jiang Shu emerging from the kitchen carrying a bowl of sweet soup. Jiang Shu was wearing a jade-green blouse, looking so tender she seemed as though she could be bruised by a touch.

Madam Zhao stopped in her tracks. When Jiang Shu reached her, she halted her and scolded in a low voice, “You have been married into our Xinyang Marquis Manor for over half a year. Even a hen should have laid an egg by now! Why are you so useless?”

With her life and safety on the line, Jiang Shu was more anxious than anyone. Facing Madam Zhao’s fury, she could only act humble: “Mother, please calm your anger. I am currently nourishing my body and will certainly not disappoint you.”

Madam Zhao stared at Jiang Shu. The woman before her was respectful, well-mannered, and dignified. Aside from being childless, she had committed no fault. Not wanting to make things too difficult, she scolded her a few more times and then strode away.

Jiang Shu returned to her bedroom listlessly, lying on the chaise lounge and sinking into deep thought. After a long silence, she finally made up her mind.

The Jiang residence was located in Bronze Sparrow Alley, where most neighbors were common folk. While eavesdropping on the gossip of aunts and older women, Jiang Shu had heard many things a sheltered lady shouldn’t know.

For instance, brothel keepers often used aphrodisiacs to train “courtesan scholars.” With one dose, even the most stubborn woman would yield. No matter how calculating Lu Zhangji was, he probably couldn’t withstand an aphrodisiac.

Since this wasn’t an honorable task, Jiang Shu waited until dusk before wearing a bamboo hat and heading out. She bought a set of men’s clothing at a garment shop, changed, and entered the most famous brothel in Bianjing.

The brothel was elegantly decorated, filled with the sounds of silk and bamboo instruments. The courtesans inside were either elegant or refined, dressed quite respectably—a far cry from the “women of the streets” Jiang Shu had imagined.

Jiang Shu found the madam and said in a low voice, “I have recently taken a new concubine. She is a stubborn and fierce servant who refuses to let me enter her room. No one can compare to you in training women. I wonder if you have anything ‘good’ that can make her submit to me?”

The madam was a sharp-witted woman. Understanding Jiang Shu’s intent, she took out a small porcelain bottle.

She said with a beaming smile, “This medicine is called ‘Free and Easy Powder.’ Its power is formidable. A single spoonful can cause the victim’s consciousness to scatter and their bones to turn soft, making them lose track of heaven and earth. When the medicine reaches its peak, even a person made of stone will turn into a pool of water.”

Jiang Shu was delighted but still had concerns. She asked, “Can the person who takes this medicine remember the person they slept with?”

The madam shook her head, her eyes darting around as she laughed. “I can see the young master is a man of pure character who doesn’t understand the subtleties of romance. There are many tricks in bed; covering the other person’s eyes during the act is a form of pleasure itself. Such things can only be felt, not described. You will know once you try it.”

“Cover the eyes,” and “lose track of heaven and earth”—in just a few sentences, the madam had solved Jiang Shu’s dilemma. She handed a bag of silver to the madam and left briskly.

Returning to the Xinchun Pavilion, Jiang Shu first hid the powder in the eastern side room before stepping into the parlor.

Zhu’er approached her mysteriously and giggled, “Miss, Mother Wu came by just now. Guess why she came to the manor?”

“She said tomorrow is the Second Miss’s wedding day. At dusk, the Zheng family will send people to pick her up. The Master specifically invited you back to observe the ceremony.”

“That Mother Wu really has some nerve! The Second Miss is becoming a concubine; what kind of ‘wedding’ is that? Ordinary families don’t even set a banquet when sending a concubine off. Our family really thinks highly of her, even specifically inviting you back.”

Though Jiang Ran was contemptible, she was the only legitimate daughter of the Jiang family and had grown up by Jiang Wenhuan’s side; he still doted on her in his heart.

Having plotted for so long, the result was exactly what she wanted, yet for some reason, Jiang Shu was not as happy as she imagined. There was none of the thrill of revenge. She didn’t sleep well that night and woke up just as dawn broke.

Zhu’er, however, was in high spirits. She lounged on the small couch, watching Fang Yu comb Jiang Shu’s hair. “Evil people get what they deserve. Thinking about what the Second Miss did to you makes my blood boil. Now it’s fine; she’s getting her karma and going to the Zheng family as a concubine. Let’s see how arrogant she can be then.”

With that, she jumped up, opened Jiang Shu’s wardrobe, and after some rustling, pulled out a formal red gown woven with gold thread.

She held the dress out to Jiang Shu and said, “Miss should wear this when returning to the Jiang house today. This gold-woven fabric is magnificent; once you put it on, you’ll radiate nobility. The Second Miss is a concubine; at most, she can only wear a peach-pink wedding dress. If you wear this bright red, you’ll definitely crush her spirit and turn her green with envy.”

Zhu’er grew more excited as she spoke, and quickly helped Jiang Shu into the wide-sleeved red gown. Jiang Shu didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but not wanting to ruin Zhu’er’s mood, she wore the dress back to the Jiang family.

Madam Yang was Jiang Ran’s mother. Jiang Wenhuan didn’t want to ignore their bond, nor did he want the Zheng family to look down on Jiang Ran, so he released Madam Yang as soon as dawn broke.

Having been confined for many days, Madam Yang was like a frost-bitten eggplant—listless and drained. Upon seeing daylight, her eyes were dazed, and she even seemed a bit stunned. When a woman passes her prime, she withers rapidly; if she has wisdom and virtue, she might still be presentable, but if she has neither beauty nor virtue, she only invites loathing.

Jiang Wenhuan glanced at Madam Yang and closed his eyes in disappointment. He wondered what kind of spell he had been under to marry such a “yaksha.” If not for his reputation as an official, he would have divorced her long ago.

He coughed and said irritably, “Today Ran’er is leaving. For her dignity, I’m letting you out to breathe. Do not do anything to embarrass us again.”

Seeing no reaction from Madam Yang, he became even more overbearing: “Shu’er will be back soon. She is now the consort of the Heir of the Xinyang Marquis Manor. Her status is much higher than yours. You must respect her and flatter her; never treat her with the contempt you used to show.”

After being trapped for days, Madam Yang was like a hedgehog with its quills plucked—powerless and naturally submissive. She didn’t argue, whispered an assent, and followed Jiang Wenhuan to the gate.

A luxurious carriage stopped at the entrance, and the elegantly dressed Jiang Shu descended. Madam Yang stared at her dress, seeing what looked like a sea of blood. She was stunned again. What a fool, Jiang Wenhuan thought, pulling her sleeve and leading her to greet Jiang Shu.

Like a Sichuan opera performer, Jiang Wenhuan’s face changed instantly when facing Jiang Shu. He smiled and asked, “The weather is so hot; is there an ice basin in the carriage?”

Jiang Shu replied, “There are two ice basins inside, so it’s very cool. I haven’t suffered from the heat. Thank you for your concern, Father.”

Jiang Shu beckoned to Zhu’er, who presented a pair of official boots to Jiang Wenhuan.

Jiang Shu spoke: “I heard that Father is highly regarded by his superiors and will surely be promoted during next year’s evaluation. I congratulate you in advance and wish you a steady rise.”

Jiang Wenhuan had a servant take the boots and eagerly led Jiang Shu into the parlor. Once seated, he said, “The work at the yamen is quite standard, and everything follows a procedure. Most colleagues don’t run into trouble if they follow the rules.”

He paused, dismissed the servants, and lowered his voice: “The reason I am being reused is entirely due to the support of the Censor. At first, I was puzzled why he favored me among so many colleagues. After some inquiry, I learned that the Censor had a meal with Grand Secretary Lu Zhangji. During the meal, the Grand Secretary mentioned my name. The Censor took the hint and transferred me to work under him.”

“In officialdom, one must know how to return a favor. Since the Censor helped me, I cannot be ungrateful. You and the Grand Secretary are close relatives; see if you can introduce the Censor to him, so the Censor can join the Grand Secretary’s faction.”

“If it succeeds, the Censor will surely be promoted, and I can rise along with him. My higher rank will benefit you as well.”

Though Jiang Shu liked fame and fortune, she had her principles. She shook her head and refused: “Father, I am merely a woman of the inner chambers. How could I have the power to interfere in official matters? The Grand Secretary is extremely cautious. If I stay in my place, he might help you out of family ties. But if I truly lobby for you, it might provoke his disgust. It would be bad if it backfires.”

Her words were well-rounded, but Jiang Wenhuan didn’t care for them, assuming she just didn’t want to help and was making excuses. He had thought Jiang Shu was filial, but she turned out to be an ungrateful child who wasted all his years of “love.”

He wanted to scold her as an elder, but since he still needed her, he didn’t dare cross her. He gave a dry laugh and forced himself to say, “I only mentioned it in passing. If it’s inconvenient, we can discuss it later. Don’t stress yourself over this.”

He then shifted the topic to Jiang Ran: “Ran’er is leaving. Though you had misunderstandings in the past, you are sisters by blood. In the eyes of outsiders, you are one. If Ran’er has dignity, it reflects well on you. For the sake of appearances, you should look after her more in the future.”

Deadly schemes were reduced to “minor misunderstandings” in Jiang Wenhuan’s eyes. Since the knife wasn’t stabbing him, he didn’t feel the pain. No matter how his children fought in private, he could gloss it over for his own peace.

Jiang Shu was past the age of being competitive; though she felt indignant, she didn’t show it. She smiled and said warmly, “Father is right. My sister and I come from the same root; we should help each other.”

Satisfied with her attitude, Jiang Wenhuan ordered the servants to bring Jiang Ran to the parlor.

Upon seeing Jiang Ran, Jiang Shu was startled. In just a few days, Jiang Ran had become as thin as a bamboo pole. Her once brilliant face was pale and haggard, looking so sickly a gust of wind could knock her over.

Jiang Ran stared blankly at Jiang Shu for a moment, then suddenly smirked. She lunged toward a high table in the corner, grabbed a pair of scissors, and charged at Jiang Shu.

Jiang Wenhuan strode forward, grabbing Jiang Ran by the waist to restrain her. As he wrestled the scissors away, he cursed, “You wretch! What are you trying to do? Do you have to turn the house upside down before you’re satisfied?”

Jiang Ran hadn’t eaten well for days and was weak; the scissors were taken away in an instant.

She sat slumped on the floor, looking coldly at everyone in the room before fixing her gaze on Jiang Shu: “Big Sister is so powerful now. Not only have you secured your position in the Marquis Manor, but even Father is on your side. I’ve been ruined by you, but don’t get too arrogant. Time is long, and karma always returns. You will get your comeuppance eventually.”

Jiang Shu knew exactly where to strike. She didn’t take the bait and instead said, “Sister’s temper is truly arrogant. Now that you are leaving, you must restrain your pettiness. You are a concubine; you will have to serve the primary wife in the future. If you upset her, you will surely suffer.”

Jiang Shu had ruined her and yet dared to mock her. Jiang Ran trembled with rage and tried to grab a vase to throw at her, but a servant noticed and took it away first.

Jiang Wenhuan felt a headache coming on. He wanted the sisters to reconcile, but they were fighting like cocks. He couldn’t kick Jiang Shu out since he had invited her, so he signaled to Madam Yang and whispered, “The Zheng family will be here soon. Take Ran’er to her bedroom to rest and dress her up. Even for a concubine, it shouldn’t be too sloppy.”

Madam Yang was unusually obedient. She nodded, helped Jiang Ran up, and they returned to the side room.

“Mother!” Back in the room, Jiang Ran finally focused on Madam Yang. Seeing her mother’s dull expression felt like a knife to the heart. She grabbed her hand and asked, “Mother, what did Father do to you? How… how did you become like this?”

There is no sorrow greater than the death of the heart. Although Madam Yang was domineering, she had been entirely devoted to Jiang Wenhuan. Without her wealth, the Jiang family would never have stood. She never imagined he would suppress her for the sake of concubine-born children. Men are cold-hearted; she had given her heart to the wrong man.

She gently stroked Jiang Ran’s back and asked, “Ran’er, how do you think your father treats you?”

Jiang Ran said, “Father used to treat me very well, but now he’s only close to Jiang Shu and treats me much worse.”

Madam Yang shook her head. “Your father doesn’t truly love Jiang Shu; he is just wary of the Xinyang Marquis Manor.”

In the past, Jiang Wenhuan hadn’t truly loved Jiang Ran either; he simply coveted Madam Yang’s dowry.

Jiang Ran didn’t catch the deeper meaning. Her eyes sparkled as she shook Madam Yang’s hand. “Mother, so you mean Father still loves me the most?”

Madam Yang gave a bitter smile and nodded. She picked up a comb to tidy Jiang Ran’s hair, saying, “You are ambitious, but you must learn to bow your head. When you get to the Zheng family, don’t try to stand out; learn to protect yourself!”

As someone who had been through it, Madam Yang already foresaw Jiang Ran’s future. She loved her daughter and didn’t want her to be too miserable right now. Life is long; let her be happy while she can.

She told Jiang Ran, “I had your fortune told. The master said your fate is excellent and you will turn bad luck into good. You may be below others now, but you might have a great future ahead.”

Having been raised in the palm of Madam Yang’s hand, Jiang Ran was still somewhat naive. Hearing this, she was immediately filled with hope. She looked at herself in the mirror—though she was thinner, her beauty was still there. She was so beautiful; what if Zheng Zuhe changed his ways and treated her like a treasure? She was still from an official’s family; with some patience and schemes, it wasn’t impossible to become the primary wife later.

Filled with her own fantasies, she began to dress carefully. She could pick any hair ornaments, but her dress had to be pink. Even with elaborate embroidery, the pink looked thin and cheap compared to the dignity of red. After a long sigh, she reluctantly put on the dress and pinned a large gold phoenix with jewels into her hair before following Madam Yang back to the parlor.

At dusk, the small sedan chair from the Zheng family arrived. The person sent to pick her up was an old woman in coarse clothes, acting without manners and speaking gruffly. She walked to Jiang Ran, gave a perfunctory bow, and said, “It’s late. Concubine, please get in the sedan!”

As the woman approached, Jiang Ran smelled a pungent fishy odor. She frowned and asked, “Which noble do you serve under, Mother?”

The woman curled her lip. “I’m a laborer in the kitchen in charge of killing fish and chickens. I don’t have the luck to serve the masters directly.”

The Zheng family actually sent this to pick her up? They couldn’t even be bothered to send a managing maid! They truly didn’t care about her at all!

Her hands clenched inside her sleeves. Jiang Ran looked toward Jiang Wenhuan. Despite the scene earlier, he was still her father. Surely he would stand up for her?

Jiang Ran stared at him, but Jiang Wenhuan ignored her gaze. He sat in his chair and said in a pretentious tone, “Ran’er, once you leave these doors, you belong to another family. At the Count’s Manor, you must be cautious, gentle, and virtuous. Serve your Lord and the primary wife well, and bear children for him. That is your duty.”

Her hope vanished, and her heart went cold. Jiang Ran felt she didn’t recognize her father anymore. As a child, he often held her on his lap to teach her poetry—a privilege no one else had, and one she was proud of. Didn’t he love her most? Why was he so cold now?

The remaining warmth in her heart froze over. Jiang Ran said no more, walked out of the parlor in silence, and stepped into that tiny sedan chair.

As the sedan disappeared, the Jiang house became quiet again. Jiang Shu didn’t stay long and took her carriage back to the Marquis Manor.

The manor was vast; one had to pass through several gardens and long corridors to reach the Xinchun Pavilion. While walking through the Thousand-Step Corridor, she bumped into Zhang Qiu, who was walking hurriedly.

Zhang Qiu smiled and bowed. “The Heir guessed the Second Madam would be back soon and sent me to meet you.”

Jiang Shu didn’t suspect anything and asked, “Is the Heir not at Xinchun Pavilion?”

Zhang Qiu nodded. “The camphor trees in the Baijing Garden are lush and smell wonderful. The Heir went there to enjoy the view.” He then looked at Zhu’er and said warmly, “The garden is on high ground and cooler than other places. The Heir’s body can’t handle it; could I trouble Miss Zhu’er to go back to Xinchun Pavilion and brew some ginger soup for him?”

Zhu’er looked at Jiang Shu. Seeing no objection, she hurried back to the pavilion.

Jiang Shu followed Zhang Qiu to the Baijing Garden. It was secluded and peaceful, filled with shade and the sounds of birds. Zhang Qiu led her to a side room, pushed the door open, checked inside, and then put a finger to his lips.

He whispered, “The Heir is asleep. Perhaps the Madam could wait outside for a moment?”

Lu Changyi was getting weaker and sleeping longer, often napping regardless of the time. Jiang Shu didn’t think much of it and sat down in the octagonal pavilion nearby to enjoy the shade. Zhang Qiu served a pot of tea, pouring it into a pale blue cup for her.

It was seasonal jasmine tea—not expensive, but elegant and fresh. Jiang Shu drank two cups. After finishing, she sensed something was wrong. Her head throbbed, and her legs felt so weak she couldn’t stand.

She pinched her palm hard, trying to stay conscious. She looked at Zhang Qiu and said sternly, “Zhang Qiu, you’ve just arrived at the manor. You probably don’t know my character.”

She took off her jade bracelet and threw it on the ground. It shattered with a crisp sound, the green fragments shimmering in the sunset.

As her consciousness faded, Jiang Shu bit the tip of her tongue hard. The sharp pain cleared her mind slightly. She said, “I would rather be shattered jade than intact clay. I don’t know why you drugged me, but mark this: unless you kill me, as long as I walk out of this garden, I will have your life.”

Zhang Qiu had survived in male brothels for years and had a keen eye for people. He knew Jiang Shu was not as gentle as she appeared. He knew the risk was high—one mistake and he’d be dead. But what could he do? He couldn’t let Lu Changyi beat him to death.

Rather than waiting to die, he would gamble. If he succeeded, Lu Changyi would give him a fortune, and Jiang Shu wouldn’t dare speak of it. It was a win-win.

He strode to Jiang Shu and said deeply, “Second Madam, I’m sorry. I have no choice.” He grabbed her waist and dragged her into the room by force.

Behind the red gauze curtains, the scent of pear-blossom incense filled the air. Jiang Shu lay on the bed, her skin as white as snow, looking like a peony dripping with dew. Zhang Qiu stared at her, unable to help feeling a sense of “pity for the beauty.”

He leaned down and whispered into her ear, “Second Madam, the Second Master is useless. Since you married, you probably haven’t even tasted pleasure! One should enjoy life while they can. You are a peerless beauty; why wrong yourself? Today, enjoy yourself; I will serve you until you are in ecstasy.”

While watching Jiang Shu, Zhang Qiu began to unbutton her clothes. As her strength ebbed away, Jiang Shu couldn’t even lift a finger. She stared at him with wide eyes, the hatred in her gaze making him shiver. He recoiled, feeling his courage falter, and quickly used one hand to cover her eyes.

The red gown, the crimson silk wrap, and the hazy-colored undergarments were piled on the floor one by one. The sight of her curves appeared before him. Zhang Qiu stared, swallowing hard. He could no longer restrain himself and lunged forward like a hungry wolf.

Just as he was about to taste her, he felt a massive force strike him from behind. Before he could realize what was happening, he was slammed to the floor.

A corner of a robe embroidered with blue mountains and sea-cliff patterns appeared above his vision. Then, an official boot stepped heavily onto his chest.