To Marry the Elder Brother of One's Late Husband - Chapter 35

Chapter 35: For You

Jiang Shu was steady and efficient. Under the guidance of Madame Zhao, she quickly prepared all the necessities for the journey to Qingyang Taoist Temple.

Madame Zhao handed the floor plan of the temple’s guest quarters to Jiang Shu, tasking her with assigning the rooms for each branch of the family in advance.

The most spacious suite was naturally reserved for Madame Zhao and Lu Lin. As the pillar of the Jingyang Marquis Mansion, Lu Changji should have been allocated a bright and grand room by right. However, Jiang Shu had her own selfish motives and assigned Lu Changji’s quarters to the secluded rear courtyard of the temple.

Madame Yang felt some dissatisfaction with Jiang Shu’s arrangement. “Assigning rooms to others is one thing, but given Xueji’s status, why have you placed him in the rear courtyard?”

Xueji was Lu Changji’s courtesy name.

Jiang Shu brought out her pre-prepared excuse: “Uncle prefers peace and quiet, and he spends much of his time reading. The rear courtyard is secluded, which will be beneficial for his self-cultivation and studies.”

There was some logic to this. Knowing Lu Changji’s solitary nature, Madame Zhao said no more, turning instead to another matter: “Remember to set aside a room for Hu Lingshuang.”

Jiang Shu paused, surprised. “The mountain roads are bumpy, and the Third Brother’s wife is heavily pregnant. I fear the journey might be too taxing for her. The late Marquis was a kind man; if his soul is watching from heaven, he surely wouldn’t want a pregnant granddaughter-in-law to suffer such exhaustion for his sake.”

As someone who had been through it herself, Madame Zhao naturally understood this. She sighed, “I didn’t want Hu Lingshuang to climb the mountain either, but she came to me several times, pleading and begging. If I refused again, it would look as though I were preventing her from showing filial piety. Since she insisted on it, no one can blame us if something goes wrong. Arrange a room for her, but keep it far from San-lang (the third son). Neither of that couple is easy to deal with; let’s avoid any scandalous scenes in such a sacred place.”

Since Hu Lingshuang had insisted, Jiang Shu could say nothing more. Considering the hardships of pregnancy, Jiang Shu arranged her room in a suite adjacent to Madame Zhao and Lu Lin, which included a private washroom for her convenience.

Two days before departure, Madame Zhao’s niece, Zhao Yingyun, arrived at the mansion for a visit. The Zhao family and the Marquis Mansion were frequent visitors to one another, so Yingyun staying over was common. However, coming to stay exactly when the hosts were about to leave for ancestral rites seemed a bit tactless.

Yet Zhao Yingyun was a woman of discretion; she surely had her own calculations. Jiang Shu said nothing, sent a tray of desserts to Yingyun’s room via the small kitchen, and returned to Xinchun Court.

Inside the main hall, only the Zhao aunt and niece remained, free to speak candidly.

Madame Zhao said to Yingyun, “I heard that the suitors seeking your hand have nearly trampled the Zhao family threshold, yet you haven’t taken a fancy to a single one. Your mother has rejected them all. I know you have high standards, but you have reached the prime age for marriage; you cannot keep delaying. No matter how fine a girl is, once she passes a certain age, it becomes difficult to find a good match.”

Zhao Yingyun was not like a typical sheltered girl; she was remarkably frank about her marriage prospects. “I know Aunt means well to me. But marriage is the most important event of a lifetime. I do not wish to settle; I only wish to choose a gentleman of both virtue and talent, to live in harmony with him for the rest of my days.”

A gentleman of virtue and talent was easy to speak of but hard to find. If one spoke of character and capability, perhaps no one could compare to Lu Changji.

Madame Zhao’s eyes flickered as she fixed her gaze on Yingyun’s face. “Yingyun… do you have feelings for Xueji?”

A faint blush rose to Zhao Yingyun’s cheeks as she whispered, “Yes.”

Lu Changji was peerlessly handsome. At a young age, he already controlled the Inner Cabinet and held immense power. In all of Bianjing, perhaps half the women dreamed of becoming his wife. Unfortunately, he was cold and detached, living a life of asceticism like a celestial being. Forget a wife; he didn’t even have a single concubine or maid in his bedchamber.

When Lu Changji reached adulthood, Madame Zhao had tried to arrange a marriage for him, but he had declined on the grounds of being too busy with official business. Later, as his power grew, he became the ultimate authority not just in the mansion, but in the imperial court. Madame Zhao no longer dared to press him. Thus, he had remained solitary until now.

In other families, a legal mother could easily arrange a concubine’s son’s marriage, but in the Marquis Mansion, that was simply not possible.

Madame Zhao smiled and said warmly, “If you could marry Xueji, it would be of great benefit not just to you, but to our Zhao family. To be honest, though I am his legal mother, I cannot make decisions for him. Whether you can win his heart depends on your own destiny.”

Her tone shifted. “You are the legitimate daughter of the Zhao family, of noble status. No matter what happens, you must not debase yourself. As fine as Xueji is, you must not be subservient. Even if you reveal your heart, it must be done with restraint, lest you lose your dignity and be looked down upon.”

Despite her words, Madame Zhao could not simply stand by when it came to her own niece. She arranged Yingyun’s stay in the Flying Bird Pavilion, which was directly adjacent to Lu Changji’s Canaan Courtyard. With their quarters so close, they were bound to meet; perhaps familiarity would breed affection.

With the departure for the temple imminent, Madame Zhao arranged a banquet in the main hall that evening, intentionally placing Zhao Yingyun’s seat next to Lu Changji’s.

By the hour of the Dog (around 8 PM), everyone had arrived. Lu Changji was the last to enter. His gaze swept over Jiang Shu, seeing her personally tying the strings of Lu Changyi’s cloak.

She was certainly diligent, doing even such small tasks herself. He wondered what the maids of Xinchun Court were for. Despite the heat, Lu Changyi was bundled in layers upon layers like a glutinous rice dumpling.

“How has Second Brother’s health been lately?” Lu Changji asked Lu Changyi tonelessly.

Before Lu Changyi could speak, he broke into a violent, chest-wracking cough, as if he were trying to spit out his very lungs.

At this, Lu Changfeng chimed in, “I see Second Brother’s body is becoming more useless by the day. The second sister-in-law is so young; the second brother must take care of himself.”

His words were like a hidden needle—smooth on the surface, but stinging. One couldn’t prove he had ill intentions, yet the words stuck in the throat like a fishbone.

Madame Zhao was protective and would never let Lu Changfeng walk over her son. Just as she was about to use her authority to reprimand him, she saw Jiang Shu’s face darken.

Jiang Shu glared at Lu Changfeng and snapped, “Everyone should sweep the snow from their own doorstep. Third Brother, you’d better manage the affairs of your own courtyard first, lest your own house catches fire while you’re busy trying to douse someone else’s.”

Madame Zhao had previously thought Jiang Shu was merely a girl from a minor family—gentle but lacking backbone. She hadn’t expected her to be so sharp when it mattered. She found herself looking at Jiang Shu with new respect.

In the silence that followed, Hu Lingshuang’s chopsticks fell to the floor. Being heavily pregnant, it was difficult for her to move, so Lu Changfeng leaned down to pick them up for her. Lu Changfeng was a man who hated to lose; if he wouldn’t back down from Lu Changyi, he certainly wouldn’t from Jiang Shu. Just as he was about to retaliate, he felt Lu Lin’s cold gaze sweep over him.

Lu Lin said sternly, “San-lang, you are becoming more disgraceful. If you wish to wag your tongue, go to the street corners and argue with the village gossip. Don’t act so high and mighty in your own home.”

With his father speaking up, Lu Changfeng dared not say more and lowered his head to eat.

As a guest, Zhao Yingyun could not interfere in the family’s domestic disputes. She quietly observed Lu Changji’s preferences. By the end of the meal, she noted he had a light palate and disliked greasy food, but he had a fondness for sweets—he took three pieces of the white lily pastry and five helpings of the pine nut crystal cake. Yingyun was the only legitimate daughter of the Zhao family, and besides being skilled in the arts, she was an excellent cook. Her crystal cakes were far more delicate than those of the Marquis Mansion. She vowed to make them for him if the opportunity arose.

While Yingyun’s heart was on Lu Changji, Madame Zhao was also silently observing their interactions.

When the meal concluded, Madame Zhao said to Lu Changji, “It is dark outside. Since you and Yingyun are heading the same way, why don’t you escort her back to the Flying Bird Pavilion on my behalf?”

Lu Changji gave no sign of agreement or disagreement but walked with Zhao Yingyun. He was tall and walked with the grace of a crane. As a guest, he should have looked after her, but he remained silent throughout, acting as if she weren’t even there.

A forced romance is never a good deal; affection should come naturally. Since he didn’t wish to speak, Yingyun didn’t want to seem over-eager. As they reached the entrance of the pavilion, she “accidentally” dropped her silk pouch adorned with luminous pearls.

She turned gracefully, gave him a small bow, and said softly, “Thank you, First Cousin, for escorting me. I have arrived. Please take care on your way back.” With that, she stepped inside.

In the pitch-black night, with no bodies to block the view, Cheng Yong immediately spotted the pouch on the ground. His eyesight was keen, and he remembered the glimmer at Yingyun’s waist. “My Lord, that pouch belongs to the young lady of the Zhao family.”

A pouch was an intimate item for a woman; if picked up by someone with ill intentions, her reputation would be ruined. As she was his cousin, Lu Changji should have returned it, but he acted as if he hadn’t seen it and walked back to Canaan Courtyard in silence.

Once they were gone, the maid Mianwu stepped out from the pavilion and picked up the pouch. “Miss, after you went inside, I peeked through the crack in the door crack. Mr. Cheng found your pouch first and reminded Lord Lu, but Lord Lu acted as if he didn’t hear a word and just walked away.”

He hadn’t failed to hear; he simply didn’t care about her reputation—or her. Zhao Yingyun was disappointed, but her pride wouldn’t let her show it. She locked the pouch in a box and went to bed.

…

At the first light of the next day, Jiang Shu was already using the family tallies to supervise the servants transporting supplies to the temple. The rites would last seven days, and the items needed for the large family were numerous and complex. By breakfast, the transport was still not finished.

Jiang Shu hastily finished a bowl of rice porridge and returned to the courtyard to work. Zhao Yingyun approached her and said gently, “The weather is hot today; Cousin-in-law is working hard. Dealing with all these family trifles is exhausting. If you don’t mind, let me lend a hand. I may not be very useful, but I can share some of your burdens.”

This was the mark of a truly refined and intelligent woman—even when offering help, she was humble. It made it impossible to refuse. Jiang Shu thanked her and had Zhu’er bring a chair for her. Zhao Yingyun proved to be methodical and calm, even more organized than Jiang Shu.

By noon, the sun was scorching. Even sitting under the shade of the trees, both women were sweating. Since Yingyun was a guest, Jiang Shu repeatedly urged her to go rest, but despite her noble birth, she wasn’t fragile at all and insisted on staying.

As Lu Changji passed through the main courtyard, he saw Jiang Shu from afar. She was wearing an apricot-colored outer garment, darkened in patches from sweat.

Lu Changji glanced at Cheng Yong and whispered, “The sun is like fire. It is hard on the Second Young Mistress to labor for the family. Order the small kitchen to send her a bowl of iced plum syrup to ward off the heat.”

He then noticed Zhao Yingyun beside her and added, “Remember to send a bowl to Miss Zhao as well.”

By mid-afternoon, the work was finally finished. Jiang Shu and Zhao Yingyun went to the flower hall to drink cold tea. Just as they sat down, a servant entered with the iced syrup. The servant was polite and soft-spoken: “The small kitchen made some iced syrup. The eldest master asked me to bring it for the Second Young Mistress and the Young Lady to sample.”

Jiang Shu took the bowls and handed the first to Zhao Yingyun. She told the servant, “The eldest master is very thoughtful. This syrup is like a timely rain. Please thank him on our behalf.”

The syrup was crystal clear, topped with diced melon, hawthorn, and pear, floating in a tart and sweet plum base. It was perfectly refreshing. Zhao Yingyun stared at the bowl with a faint, almost imperceptible smile and began to eat with a porcelain spoon.

A servant-woman knocked at the door with a question, and Jiang Shu stepped out to give instructions. As she turned to come back in, she heard the voice of the maid Mianwu.

Mianwu was clearly excited. “Lord Lu may seem cold, but he truly has Miss in his heart. Look how well-made this syrup is; he clearly put thought into it.”

Zhao Yingyun set down her spoon and pretended to scold her. “Don’t talk nonsense. This syrup was surely intended for the Second Cousin-in-law; I am merely benefiting from her luck.”

Mianwu giggled. “Lord Lu is the Second Young Mistress’s brother-in-law. There are strict boundaries between them; why would a brother-in-law send her iced syrup for no reason? This was clearly meant for you, Miss.”

Lu Changji and Zhao Yingyun—one steady and refined, the other elegant and bright—were indeed a match made in heaven. It was only natural they would be well-suited.

Thinking of her own plan, Jiang Shu felt an uncomfortable pang in her heart. What she intended to do was despicable, but “morality” was for saints. She had to save her own life before she was qualified to talk about virtue.

Jiang Shu let out a light cough, and once the voices inside stopped, she stepped back into the room. After chatting with Yingyun for a bit, she hurried back to the Jiang house to celebrate her father Jiang Wenhuan’s birthday.

…

On this day, Jiang Wenhuan’s birthday, she had to fulfill her filial duties regardless of how busy she was.

Jiang Ran’s situation was miserable, and normally Madame Yang should have hated Jiang Shu for it, but she seemed like a changed person. She had tucked away all her sharp edges. Seeing Jiang Shu, she didn’t say a single harsh word and even went to the dining hall to brew tea for her personally.

The old servant Wu-po was persistent. Seeing Madame Yang leave the room, she seized the chance to approach Jiang Shu. While pouring tea, she whispered, “The Madam is very virtuous now. She goes to the kitchen every day to brew soup for the Master. It’s called the ‘Four Gentlemen’s Soup’—made of Atractylodes, Poria, Ginseng, and Licorice. It’s very effective. After drinking it, the Master’s insomnia was cured. He sleeps an hour longer than most people now. Since he sleeps well at night, he’s energetic during the day and much kinder to the Madam.”

“I see that Madam is preparing for a comeback. You should be careful, Miss.”

Jiang Shu glanced at her, handed her a handful of silver melon-seed-shaped tokens, and said flatly, “Thank you for the tip. I’ve noted it and will keep you in mind.”

Her expression was cold, but the weight of the silver was substantial. Wu-po couldn’t gauge Jiang Shu’s true attitude and didn’t dare be presumptuous, so she quietly retreated.

Two quarters of an hour later, Jiang Wenhuan returned from his duties. Whether it was the effect of the soup or his high spirits, he did indeed look more energetic than usual.

He said to Jiang Shu, “The cooks at home are dull; their food isn’t fit for the table. Let us go to the Yanbin Restaurant instead. Their food is quite palatable.”

Yanbin Restaurant’s food was famous, and its prices were equally “impressive.” The Jiang family rarely had the chance to eat there before, but now they were regulars. If Jiang Wenhuan hadn’t been skimming off the top of his official duties, the Jiang family’s wealth would never have been enough for such extravagance.

He was her father after all, so Jiang Shu whispered a warning: “Our family’s foundation is thin. Father should be more cautious.”

Jiang Wenhuan didn’t take her words to heart. “When the water is too clear, there are no fish. If others take and I don’t, I will be viewed with suspicion. Things are different now; I’ve been promoted. My hands are tied; there are some benefits I simply must take.”

Since it was his birthday, Jiang Shu didn’t want to upset him. She said no more and boarded the carriage with the family to the restaurant.

The private room had been reserved in advance. As soon as they sat down, the waiter brought out the cold appetizers. Through the gap in the door, Jiang Wenhuan saw a familiar figure flash by in the hallway.

He immediately stood up and rushed out. Sure enough, it was Lu Changji, surrounded by several officials as they entered the adjacent suite. Forget Lu Changji himself—even the officials following him were people Jiang Wenhuan could never hope to reach. In the past, he wouldn’t have dared to disturb them, but with Jiang Shu as a bridge, he felt a surge of courage.

He straightened his clothes and knocked on the door of the private suite. The one who opened it was Grand Commandant Yan. He was a man of imposing presence and tall stature, looking down at Jiang Wenhuan as if peering through his nostrils.

Before Jiang Wenhuan could speak, his courage faltered. He bowed nervously and said respectfully, “Jiang Wenhuan, the Prefectural Vice-Magistrate, greets the Lords!”

The men inside showed expressions of disdain. A sixth-rank Vice-Magistrate wasn’t even fit to carry their shoes. Why would he burst in for no reason?

Grand Commandant Yan, a blunt man, snorted. “What is Vice-Magistrate Jiang doing here?”

Jiang Wenhuan had prepared a whole speech, but facing Yan’s stern face, he became incredibly nervous. His lips trembled, but not a single word came out.

“The tea at Yanbin Restaurant is passable. Vice-Magistrate Jiang, don’t just stand at the door. Come in and have a cup.” Lu Changji’s voice was like music from heaven, rescuing him from his embarrassment.

He stood up shakily, walked to Lu Changji’s side, and drank a cup of hot tea while standing straight—too afraid to even sit. After the tea moistened his throat, he said, “Today is my birthday, and my daughter has come to celebrate with me. She is a close relative of yours, My Lord, so she should have come over to…”

He was speaking more nonsensically by the second. Jiang Shu was an inner-court woman; how could she show her face in front of so many men? Lu Changji interrupted him: “Since it is the Vice-Magistrate’s birthday, it is only right that I, a junior, go to offer my congratulations. There is no reason to bother you to stay here.”

As he spoke, he stood up and made a gesture of “after you” to Jiang Wenhuan.

The First Assistant of the Cabinet was going to celebrate his birthday personally! To Jiang Wenhuan, this was enough to bring glory to his entire lineage. Overjoyed, he hurried ahead to lead the way.

The people in the room were astonished. They had worked so hard to invite Lu Changji out, yet before the meal even started, he was being whisked away by a low-ranking official.

Back in their room, the birthday boy was out, so the guests couldn’t start the meal. Jiang Shu chatted idly with Madame Yang. Jiang Rong, usually silent, forced herself to talk with Yang, knowing she would have to deal with people after her own marriage. Though she didn’t say much, she didn’t look flustered.

As the three women were talking, the door was pushed open. Jiang Wenhuan had returned, his face beaming with joy. He stood to the side and welcomed Lu Changji into the room.