Early winter. The fog was thick and cold.
A heavy snow had fallen the night before, and the great claws of the winter tide had plunged down unexpectedly. The tree branches were laden with heavy frost.
The sky gradually brightened. In the coldest hour before dawn, the cheeks of the maids rising for the day were flushed red from the chill.
The maid Wan Cui squatted on the ground, counting the few remaining pieces of black charcoal. The more she counted, the more worried she became. “With just these few pieces of charcoal, and the Zhumu deliberately making things difficult, how are we to get through the winter?”
The elderly Chen Momo, whose cotton-padded jacket had a hole in it, chided her, “Stop complaining. If someone hears you, be careful they don’t cut out your tongue.”
Wan Cui was so cold that snot was freezing at the tip of her nose. “Momo, it’s not that we’re complaining, but the charcoal and provisions allotted to us are far too little. Yiniang nearly bled to death during childbirth and is at a critical point in her recovery, yet she has to live in such a shabby house and use this acrid black charcoal.”
Chen Momo, of course, knew this. Ever since the Yiniang had incurred the Zhumu’s dislike, their courtyard’s food, clothing, and supplies had been deliberately cut back. Tian Yiniang was just a concubine, with nowhere to turn for justice.
“Just now… Yiniang coughed up blood again.”
Chen Momo sighed heavily. The basin in her hands, filled with bloody water, had a thin layer of ice forming on it.
“Speak softer, don’t let Yiniang hear and be saddened.”
“I’ll go find the Zhujun!” Wan Cui’s eyes immediately reddened. “The Zhujun has a reputation for benevolence. He won’t just stand by and do nothing.”
Chen Momo hastily stopped her. “Stop, stop! Have you forgotten what happened to Zhao Lu?”
Zhao Lu was a maid who had served alongside Wan Cui before. When Tian Yiniang had suffered from a severe postpartum illness after her first child, Zhao Lu had stood up for her.
Not long after, Zhao Lu was found drowned in a well, her face deathly pale, the well water frozen into a block of ice.
It was obviously the Zhumu’s handiwork.
Tears streamed down Wan Cui’s face, and she stopped in her tracks.
In this unfathomably deep residence, would the Zhujun truly side with them?
The Zhumu was clearly at fault in that matter back then. If the Zhujun had truly been on their side, Zhao Lu would not have died such a mysterious and tragic death.
The Zhujun was indeed a paragon of virtue, a man with the heart of a Bodhisattva, but in his heart, there was only the Zhumu, not Tian Yiniang.
Inside the room, Tian Qin awoke from a daze. Her head felt as heavy as lead, her pupils were unfocused, and her lower back still ached faintly.
Her long lashes fluttered shut. She had a premonition that her days were numbered. A rattling sound came from her throat, like a broken bellows.
“Is anyone… there…”
Hearing her, Chen Momo hurried inside, carefully helping her up and wiping the blood from the corner of her mouth. “We are here, Yiniang. You were doing a bit better a few days ago. The weather is too cold, it’s caused your old illness to flare up.”
Tian Qin’s illness was not due to the cold. Half a month ago, Tian Qin had accidentally run into Hongge’er in the garden. Tears streamed down her face, but unexpectedly, Hongge’er gave her a hard shove, hitting her squarely in the abdomen.
The young boy was already beginning to show his strength. Tian Qin, in her weakened state, fell into the icy lake, her body wracked with a deep chill.
Hongge’er was Tian Qin’s first child. He had been taken away by the Zhumu at birth, and mother and son had not seen each other in years.
Tian Qin had pleaded with the Zhujun many times, trying every method, soft and hard, but each time she was dismissed with a lukewarm refusal.
The Zhujun was a defender of Confucianism; he would never do something like favoring a concubine over his wife, breaking the rules to let a concubine raise a child.
The Zhumu had surely instilled in Hongge’er many ideas about how detestable concubines were, wanting him to wish his own birth mother dead.
Tian Qin was painstakingly fed a mouthful of water, but the burning in her lungs did not improve in the slightest. Her toes were cracked with frostbite, and her cheeks were chapped red.
“Where is Zhao Lu?”
She couldn’t recall seeing Zhao Lu for a long time. Since she had fallen ill, or perhaps even earlier, they had always said Zhao Lu was on loan elsewhere.
Chen Momo and Wan Cui exchanged a worried glance, not knowing how to tell the Yiniang, who was struggling on the brink of death, the truth that Zhao Lu had been cruelly drowned in the well.
“Yiniang, drink your medicine and get some sleep.”
Tian Qin’s dry eyes slowly gazed at the simple furnishings and the drafty chill. Though she was ill, her mind was not a complete muddle.
She had asked so many times, yet Chen Momo and the others wouldn’t say a word, their lips sealed so tightly. The answer was self-evident.
A tear trickled down her cheek, for Zhao Lu, and for herself. She lay down limply on the cold, hard bedding, completely drained of strength.
She had first come to the Xie Jia on a spring night when she was seventeen.
The Xie Jia was a family of imperial relatives by marriage. The current Taihuang Taihou hailed from the Xie clan, and at their most glorious, five members of the family had been ennobled as marquises on the same day.
The new head of the family was a true Confucian scholar by upbringing—refined, benevolent, righteous, and of high moral character, a paragon of virtue known far and wide.
He had married her First Wife’s Older Sister. The couple was deeply in love, but because her sister was born barren, they remained childless for many years after their marriage.
Tian Qin, along with her two sisters, had come to the Xie Residence for a family visit, led by the Zhumu. It happened to be the Beginning of Spring, and a magnificent banquet was held in the residence, a dazzling and splendid affair.
That night, Tian Qin saw her Brother-in-law for the first time—the most powerful and unapproachable minister in the imperial court. She smiled with her family and called him Brother-in-law, but he paid her no mind.
Towards this Brother-in-law, as aloof as the moon and as stunning as a celestial being, she felt admiration, but she harbored no improper thoughts.
She was already engaged to the family’s resident tutor, Xu Junzheng. They had exchanged keepsakes and were to be married the following autumn.
Xu Junzheng was an upright and honorable man, as well as diligent and hardworking. He planned to make his mark in the spring imperial examinations the next year. For Tian Qin, an Illegitimate Daughter, to marry him as his legal wife was a future full of promise.
However, a cup of wine at the banquet that night shattered Tian Qin’s beautiful dream. She was sent to her Brother-in-law’s bed.
Her First Wife’s Older Sister had been childless for years; it was only a matter of time before the Xie clan took a concubine. Since they were destined to take a concubine to bear a child, it was better to use one of their own illegitimate younger sisters. To prevent Tian Qin from disagreeing, they acted first and explained later.
From then on, Tian Qin’s beautiful dream was shattered. She was reduced from a future legal wife to a concubine, confined within the Xie Residence to bear a child for her sister.
The head of the Xie Jia was unlike ordinary young masters. He was devoted to Confucian teachings and adhered strictly to political and ethical principles. The family rules were extremely severe.
The matter of two sisters serving one husband could never be allowed to get out. Tian Qin was destined to be a shadow of a concubine, living in darkness.
When Tian Qin was in bed with him, he was as cold and distant as winter snow, like a sage devoid of emotion.
Even within the bed curtains, there was only the chill of the Four Books and Five Classics.
Tian Qin was not naturally fertile. To conceive, she drank countless bitter medicines. Childbirth was a trip to death’s door that left her with a chronic illness.
Hongge’er was taken away as soon as he was born, to be raised by her First Wife’s Older Sister. For years, it was as if he had no birth mother.
Occasionally, she would see the family of three enjoying themselves on the swing set at sunset, a harmonious scene of her Brother-in-law and sister smiling at each other while their child played at their knees.
Tian Qin’s postpartum illness was severe, and her life was sustained by a single herb, Zishenzhi. Zishenzhi was not only precious but also extremely rare, worth a thousand gold pieces per inch.
How could a mere concubine be worthy of using such a fine medicinal herb? The Xie Jia had already paid a handsome bride price when they bought her as a concubine. Besides, her Brother-in-law was a paragon of Confucian virtue who had promised her First Wife’s Older Sister a lifetime of one couple. Apart from bearing a child, he would not give a concubine any extra care.
As Tian Qin’s head maid, Zhao Lu was frantic. She managed to sell her family’s small plot of land, and Tian Qin pawned all the jewelry and clothes she could. Mistress and servant scraped together everything they had and finally saved up enough money to buy the Zishenzhi.
As a rare imperial herb, there was no way to purchase Zishenzhi through normal channels. Zhao Lu and Tian Qin entrusted the matter to the Xie Residence’s steward, Li Fu.
Li Fu readily agreed at first, but unexpectedly, after taking their hard-earned money, he turned his back on them, deceiving them with some common, inferior herbs, which caused Tian Qin’s condition to worsen significantly.
Only then did they realize that Li Fu was one of the First Wife’s Older Sister’s people. Her sister had been deliberately making things difficult for them all along.
Zhao Lu, unable to bear it, went straight to the Zhujun to report the matter. The First Wife’s Older Sister was originally in the wrong.
Although the Zhujun sided with Tian Qin, he ignored her for the next six months, blaming her for not managing her servant properly, for overstepping her authority, and for engaging in private dealings.
The Xie clan placed great importance on rules, human relations, and Confucian rites. There was once a head maid of several decades who attempted to steal and was mercilessly sent to the authorities to have her hands chopped off.
Moreover, the Zhujun adored his First Wife’s Older Sister, treating her with the utmost respect and love. What was Tian Qin, a mere concubine? How could she possibly drive a wedge between the husband and wife?
In the end, Li Fu reluctantly handed over the Zishenzhi, but the amount was pitifully small and the effect was minimal. It was clearly a fake.
The hard-earned money Tian Qin and Zhao Lu had gotten from selling jewelry and land was wasted. Even more troublesome, the head steward Li Fu now held a grudge against them.
In the years that followed, the Zhujun became more and more like a silent sage, treating Tian Qin even more coldly in bed.
After giving birth to one child, the Zhujun continued his routine visits. Tian Qin, not yet recovered from the illness of her first pregnancy, was forced to conceive a second time.
A storm was brewing in the lifeless mansion. Two months before Tian Qin was due to give birth to her second child, another accident occurred.
Zhao Lu was caught for theft, red-handed with the stolen goods.
In the Zhumu’s courtyard, Zhao Lu was beaten with a plank until she was on the verge of death. Afterward, she was to be sent to the authorities to have her hands and feet chopped off or be executed by strangulation.
Any discerning person could see that Steward Li Fu, holding a grudge, had deliberately retaliated by framing her with this clumsy setup, but the entire Xie Residence was blind.
To save Zhao Lu, Tian Qin, eight months pregnant, knelt on the frosty ground, like a wilting flower branch in the wind, begging bitterly.
Her First Wife’s Older Sister looked at the Zhujun, leaving the decision entirely up to him.
The Xie family’s ethos was to uphold justice even against one’s own kin. The Zhujun, burdened with major affairs of the state, simply and naturally sided with the Zhumu, unmoved by such a trivial matter.
The Zhujun found Tian Qin somewhat annoying. She repeatedly caused trouble, time and again, failing to abide by the rules of a concubine.
His First Wife’s Older Sister already had a son, and she wanted to send both Tian Qin and her servant to the authorities. The Zhujun vetoed it. The new Emperor had ascended the throne and was already targeting the Xie Jia, a family of imperial relatives. He did not want to blow the matter up and give others a handle against them.
Tian Qin was forced to apologize to her First Wife’s Older Sister and voluntarily move to a humble dwelling in the rear of the residence to reflect on her transgressions behind closed doors.
Despite her meek submission, a month later, Zhao Lu was still found by Wan Cui and Chen Momo, drowned in the well.
Because of all this, when Tian Qin gave birth to her second child, she hemorrhaged.
She was left on the verge of death, clinging to life in the cold, shabby room.
Her second child was also taken away at birth, never having met its birth mother.
Chen Momo tried to feed Tian Qin medicine, but her jaw was clenched like iron, and her whole body trembled as if she were about to freeze to death in the cold hut. She could barely swallow the medicine. Wan Cui knelt by the bed; she wasn’t as capable as Sister Zhao Lu and could only cry.
“Yiniang, wake up, you can’t sleep…”
Suddenly, a set of footsteps was heard outside. It was Steward Li Fu, his fleshy, wealthy-looking figure swaggering with arrogance.
Wan Cui immediately tried to drive him away, but unexpectedly, the Zhumu was following behind him. Her First Wife’s Older Sister had heard that Tian Qin was gravely ill and had come especially to visit.
“You didn’t expect this, did you, Tian Yiniang? At your final hour, the one who comes to see you is our kind-hearted Zhumu.”
Li Fu spoke with great relish, bowing and scraping as he ushered the Zhumu in.
When Xianqiu walked into the shabby room, the cold air and musty smell gave her a piercing headache. She knew her younger sister’s conditions were poor, but she hadn’t expected them to be this poor.
“Tian’er, are you feeling any better?”
Xianqiu was holding an infant in her arms. “Sister has been busy lately and hasn’t come to see you, don’t blame me. It’s a girl. The one you risked your life to give birth to. Look at her. With both a son and a daughter, your blessings are complete.”
The tender, pink baby girl was placed in front of Tian Qin. Lying on her sickbed, Tian Qin froze for a moment, then turned her head away, not even sparing the child a single glance.
Xianqiu’s eyes were full of affection. “Look how adorable this child is, much cuter than Hongge’er. Hongge’er is too naughty. Don’t tell your Brother-in-law I secretly let you see the child, he’ll be unhappy.”
This was not a lie. A long, long time ago, on the last occasion, his faint, cold words had rung in her ears, saying that once she gave birth to the child, she had nothing more to do with it, and she shouldn’t always be trying to get close to the child.
Tian Qin remained silent, her vacant gaze fixed on the Xiaxuzhuo. The Xiaxuzhuo on her frail wrist was the only thing she couldn’t bear to pawn, the only gift her Brother-in-law had ever given her.
Her life force was fading fast. Gasping for breath, she said hoarsely, “Second Sister, I want to see Brother-in-law one last time.”
Xianqiu hesitated for a moment. “Your Brother-in-law went to court today.”
A cold sweat beaded on Tian Qin’s brow. Tearfully, she said, “A final time.”
Xianqiu said, “Alright, Sister will pass on the message for you.”
Xianqiu took her slender wrist. The smooth, moist touch of the Xiaxuzhuo also felt sorrowful. “This Xiaxuzhuo, you’ve always worn it. Back then, when Sister was choosing it for you, I put a lot of thought into it.”
These words struck Tian Qin’s ears with deep pain. She almost couldn’t catch her breath. “Wasn’t it… a gift from him?”
Xianqiu brushed the stray hairs from her forehead. “Silly sister, your Brother-in-law is occupied with a thousand things a day. Where would he find the time for this?”
The gift. The head of the Xie Jia had never even touched it. All those nice things were gifts from her sister, sent in her Brother-in-law’s name.
A wife knows her husband best. He was pure and self-possessed; he would never develop feelings for a woman other than his wife.
Tian Qin coughed up a mouthful of blood, unable to tell if she was laughing or crying.
Her sister always deceived her like this. The matter three years ago, about the tutor Xu Junzheng two-timing her and finding a new love, was also something her sister had deliberately said to make her settle into her role as a concubine.
In truth, Xu Junzheng had been waiting bitterly for her. When he learned she had climbed into her Brother-in-law’s bed, he was so devastated that he died from lovesickness, coughing up blood. On his lonely grave were planted her favorite peach blossoms.
Xianqiu picked up the baby girl again and comforted her, “You rest and recover well. With Sister looking after Hongge’er and this child, you can tell me if you need anything. You have done a great service by adding to the Xie family’s numbers. Neither I nor your Brother-in-law will treat you unfairly.”
Only then did Tian Qin see that Hongge’er had also come. He was hovering vaguely outside, unwilling to enter the unlucky concubine’s doorway.
Hongge’er had been raised not to recognize his birth mother. When he cried as a child, he was fed calming medicine and was almost poisoned to death.
It was said that Hongge’er had been indoctrinated with all sorts of Confucian classics from a young age, learning the rules under the scorching sun, gradually becoming a person just like the Zhujun.
Xianqiu left.
Tian Qin stared blankly with her gaunt eyes, her life force rapidly draining away. Blood gushed from the corners of her lips; it was clear she wouldn’t last.
She could not die in peace.
Sweat flowed silently, tracing cold lines down her skin. Her hand trembled under the quilt. Outside the window, snowflakes fell with a soft rustle.
At this time last year, she and her Brother-in-law had been admiring the snow by the window. He had stroked her flat stomach. “Bear me a daughter next.”
Everything was gone, all gone.
Her life had never been worth living in the first place.
The scene rapidly disintegrated. Tian Qin’s vision went black. Suddenly, her body stiffened, she shed one last tear, and breathed her last.
In the final moment before darkness engulfed her consciousness, she heard the rustling sound of snow crushing tree branches, and the overwhelming cries of Wan Cui and Chen Momo, who had thrown themselves weeping by her bedside.