Sang Zhi stared at the silver note before her, initially puzzled until she heard Pei He’an’s words, her face instantly flushing crimson.
Jia Zhu had mistaken her for Sanlang’s paramour, the Flower Queen of Liujing River.
“A Xiong, she’s not.”
Upon hearing this, Pei Xiyue realized his elder brother had misunderstood and hurried forward to explain.
“A Xiong, she is the bride I married three months ago, not some Flower Queen.”
Pei He’an’s cold, thin eyes fell once more upon the woman kneeling on the ground.
His thin lips parted as he said, “My apologies, I misunderstood you, sister-in-law.”
Sang Zhi hadn’t expected him to apologize and was momentarily overwhelmed by the unexpected courtesy.
She waved her hands repeatedly, saying, “No, it’s fine.”
Pei Xiyue, seeing his elder brother’s demeanor, felt a mix of resentment and unease.
He stepped forward and said, “A Xiong, why didn’t you inform A Mu of your return today? I could have prepared a celebration for you at home.”
Pei He’an glanced at him coldly and replied, “To celebrate your city-wide scandals?”
Hearing his elder brother’s words, Pei Xiyue knew there was no escaping today’s reckoning, but he was unwilling to lose face in front of Sang Zhi.
He whispered, “A Xiong, there’s an outsider present.”
Sang Zhi promptly rose upon hearing this and said, “I’ll wait for you outside.”
She had been foolish, not realizing it sooner.
How could she remain in such a situation?
“No need, stay.”
Sang Zhi halted her steps toward the door but hesitated, glancing uncertainly at Pei Xiyue.
She dared not make the decision herself.
Pei Xiyue shot her a look. “If A Xiong wants you to stay, then stay.”
“Sanlang, do you still remember the family precepts?”
Pei Xiyue’s face contorted, but he answered truthfully, “Of course I remember.”
“Since you remember, how dare you consort with courtesans and even bring your own wife to such a filthy place? According to family law, ten lashes!”
…
This was the first time Sang Zhi had witnessed the enforcement of family law.
Since entering the household, she had only heard that Jia Zhu was a gentleman of jade-like virtue, yet aloof and indifferent by nature.
At a young age, he had already risen to the third rank, becoming a close confidant of the emperor.
In all of Jiankang, there was no other Lang Jun who could compare to Jia Zhu.
But she hadn’t expected him to handle matters so… impartially.
Sang Zhi looked at the crisscrossing whip marks on Pei Xiyue’s back.
Clearly, no mercy had been shown. Some of the overlapping wounds had even split open, revealing raw, crimson flesh.
Not only had Pei Xiyue suffered the family punishment, but even the servant boys and attendants beside him had received beatings.
Thus, the task of applying medicine fell to Sang Zhi.
Holding the medicinal ointment in one hand, Sang Zhi used the other to part the tattered clothing.
After one glance at the wounds, she couldn’t bear to look again.
Her delicate fingertips trembled as she sprinkled the medicinal powder from the bottle, evenly dispersing it over the open wounds.
But no matter how gently she applied the medicine, it still stung when it touched the raw flesh.
Pei Xiyue hissed in pain. “Could you aim properly before applying the medicine? It’s not you who got whipped.”
Sang Zhi pursed her lips and replied softly, “Understood.”
Pei Xiyue rolled his eyes at her, feeling as though the person before him was as dull as a block of wood, moving only when instructed.
Any ordinary wife, seeing her husband injured like this, would at least offer some tender care.
But she simply stood by the bed, wooden and unresponsive.
Just as Sang Zhi finished applying the medicine, a voice filled with heartache sounded from behind.
“My Sanlang! How could your A Xiong strike so harshly? He truly shows no brotherly affection at all.”
When Sang Zhi saw Mother Pei approaching, she quickly stepped aside, doing her utmost to make herself inconspicuous.
As soon as Mother Pei entered the room, she saw her son lying on the bed, crisscrossed whip marks covering his back.
The once snow-white robe was now stained with blood, making her heart ache even more.
"What exactly happened that A Xiong would resort to such measures?"
Pei Xiyue was too ashamed to explain and only evaded the question.
But Mother Pei was unwilling to be brushed off so easily. Seeing that Sanlang was reluctant to speak, her beautiful eyes shifted to Sang Zhi, who was standing nearby. Her tone lost all traces of the earlier sympathy, instead carrying a hint of accusation as she asked, "You tell me, what exactly happened? Did you cause trouble?"
Sang Zhi glanced at Lang Jun's expression, then at her mother-in-law.
In the end, she chose to follow Lang Jun's wishes, shaking her head and pretending not to know.
"Your daughter-in-law does not know."
Mother Pei shot her a sharp glare, abruptly standing up and moving closer to Sang Zhi. "I heard you were right beside Sanlang when Jing Zhi was reprimanding him. How could you just stand there and watch?"
"Didn't you even try to intervene? When Jing Zhi was about to strike, couldn't you have thrown yourself in front of him to stop the whip from landing on Sanlang? What kind of wife are you? How could there be such a heartless woman in this world!"
Sang Zhi was harshly scolded by her mother-in-law, berated so severely that she didn't dare lift her head.
Only when Mother Pei finally stopped did she dare speak up to admit her mistake, promising it wouldn't happen again.
Mother Pei had always looked down on this timid daughter-in-law—how could someone like her ever be a match for her Sanlang?
Seeing her submissive demeanor only fueled Mother Pei's anger further.
Waving her hand dismissively, she sent Sang Zhi away, saying, "Sanlang has been punished and hasn't eaten outside. Hurry to the kitchen and bring some food."
Sang Zhi nodded, bowed, and retreated.
Only after she had gone far did Pei Xiyue, still lying on the bed, leisurely speak up. "A Mu, you didn't even tell me A Xiong was back, and now I've been caught red-handed by him."
Mother Pei poked Sanlang's forehead, her tone tinged with disappointment. "You, you… When has A Xiong ever given advance notice of his return? Of all times, you had to run into him. Now, how are you going to go out and enjoy yourself for a while? Stay home, recover from your injuries, and settle down. You should also cut off those improper relationships, or else you'll face more of A Xiong's whip."
Pei Xiyue lay face down on the bed, feeling as though his future had grown dim.
Not wanting to listen to A Mu's nagging, he feigned tiredness and asked her to leave.
Kitchen.
Night had already fallen, and it was long past dinnertime.
When Sang Zhi arrived, only two old women were left guarding the kitchen.
Upon seeing her, they gave a perfunctory bow before sitting back down.
They showed no intention of offering any help.
Sang Zhi was already accustomed to this. Silently, she examined the ingredients on the table.
With deft hands, she began washing and slicing.
Time was short, so Sang Zhi didn't have the luxury of preparing anything elaborate.
She simply made a few stir-fried dishes and a bowl of steamed egg with minced meat.
A few drops of sesame oil glistened on the golden-yellow surface of the egg, nestled in a white porcelain bowl, making it look even more tender and fresh.
Once everything was ready, Sang Zhi prepared to pack the meal into a food container to take back.
Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice sounded from the doorway.
"What are you making?"
Startled by the sudden voice, Sang Zhi instinctively looked up at the person standing at the entrance.
Before she could even recognize who it was, the two women sitting by the stove jumped to their feet and exclaimed, "Why has Lord Mu come in person? If the Jia Zhu needs anything, he need only send a servant boy to inform us. There was no need for Lord Mu to make the trip himself."
Lord Mu? The Jia Zhu?
This must be someone from the Jia Zhu's side.
Sang Zhi silently observed the person at the door—his expression icy, indeed fitting for someone close to the Jia Zhu.
They were all so cold.
Mu Shan paid no heed to the women's words, his gaze instead falling on the food Sang Zhi had yet to pack into the meal box.
The two women immediately understood and hurried over to Sang Zhi, saying, "Third Miss, this is someone from the Jia Zhu's side. You must not offend him."
Sang Zhi grasped the implication. Fortunately, she had prepared a generous portion, and splitting it in two wouldn't be noticeable.
However… she had only made one serving of steamed eggs. Dividing it clearly wouldn't work.
So, should it go to the Jia Zhu or to Pei Xiyue?
Sang Zhi stole a glance at Mu Shan standing by the door and noticed he was also eyeing the porcelain bowl in her hands.
Forget it, better give it to the Jia Zhu.
Only after seeing the man walk a good distance away did Sang Zhi pick up the meal box and return to the Lang Jun's courtyard.
Night had long since fallen, and the meticulously tended scenery of the day took on an eerie, ghostly quality in the darkness.
A gust of wind blew through, rustling the leaves with a soft, unsettling sound.
Hearing this, Sang Zhi was suddenly reminded of the ghost stories she had heard some time ago.
A chill ran down her spine, and her footsteps unconsciously quickened.
Suddenly, at a corner, she caught sight of a dark figure and nearly screamed in fright.
Only when she realized it was Lord Mu from the Jia Zhu's side did she let out a sigh of relief, breathing rapidly in short, quiet gasps.
But why was Lord Mu standing here instead of delivering the meal box to the Jia Zhu?
It was Mu Shan who spoke first. "May I trouble the young lady to deliver this meal box to Qingfeng Courtyard?"
A flicker of hesitation crossed Sang Zhi's eyes as she clutched her own meal box and whispered, "But… I already have…"
She wanted to decline, but her voice grew even softer.
The Jia Zhu's courtyard was separated from Pei Xiyue's by only a single wall, so it was essentially on the way. It shouldn't cause any delay.
Besides, the Jia Zhu had spoken up for her earlier and reprimanded Pei Xiyue. She ought to return the favor.
It was just delivering a meal box—a few extra steps wouldn't hurt. She should do it.
"Is the young lady otherwise occupied?"
Sang Zhi was never good at refusing others, and having already reasoned with herself, she shook her head. "No, it's nothing."
"Then I'll trouble you."
Sang Zhi shook her head again, picked up both meal boxes, and headed toward Qingfeng Courtyard.
Though she had agreed readily, now that she was actually about to hand the meal box to the Jia Zhu, Sang Zhi hesitated outside the door.
The first thing that came to mind was the Jia Zhu's pale, slender fingers, his knuckles distinct as they held the corner of a banknote, his gaze cold and disdainful as he looked at her.
No one knew the shame she had felt in that moment—as if she truly were a dancer accepting money.
Especially the Jia Zhu's indifferent, aloof phoenix eyes. Though they were looking at her, it felt as though they had stripped her bare, exposing her most humiliating side.
Sang Zhi stood outside the room, hesitant and uncertain, completely unaware that her silhouette was clearly outlined by the candlelight against the doorframe.
Pei He'an glanced up at the shifting shadow outside the door, a slight frown creasing his brow.
After a long while, a knock finally sounded at the door.
"Jia Zhu, I've brought your meal."
"Enter."
Sang Zhi lowered her gaze, looking at the carpet spread across the floor. The pristine white cashmere had been dyed into an elegant shade of indigo blue.
Stepping on it, there was not a sound to be heard.
Sang Zhi neatly placed the food box to the side and was just about to withdraw when the person seated at the table suddenly spoke, "Wait."
Hearing Pei He'an's command, for some reason, an inexplicable tension arose in Sang Zhi's heart.
She had no choice but to turn and face the Jia Zhu, though her head remained bowed, and she whispered softly, "Jia Zhu, is there something else?"
Pei He'an stood up, his cool voice resonating in the room. "You are Sanlang's wife. There's no need to call me Jia Zhu. You may address me the same way Sanlang does."
Sang Zhi intertwined her fingers. The term "A Xiong" felt somewhat intimate. She knew her place—it was fine for Sanlang to use it, but she was not worthy.
Yet, outwardly, she still complied.
Bright candlelight flickered in the room when suddenly, the candle closest to Sang Zhi popped with a sharp crack.
The sound was not loud, but to Sang Zhi, who was already on edge, it struck like thunder.
She couldn't help but tremble for a moment.
Afterward, she felt it was inappropriate and quickly straightened her posture, pretending as if nothing had happened.
Meanwhile, Pei He'an remained seated at the table, his dark eyes fixed on the person before him. He found it difficult to reconcile the information he had gathered with the person standing before him.
Timid by nature, poor with words, and so easily frightened.
Could such a person really have drugged Sanlang?
Pei He'an's gaze fell upon the face illuminated by the candlelight.
Dark hair, snow-white skin, watery almond-shaped eyes timidly fixed on the tips of her feet, and plump, moist red lips tightly bitten.
A slender, pale neck was exposed.
She looked like a trembling apricot on a branch, drenched by rain and dew.
Swaying unsteadily, as if afraid of being plucked away.
It seemed as though she didn't possess even a shred of courage.
"Does Sanlang treat you well?"
Sang Zhi hadn't expected the Jia Zhu to ask this. She stammered, "Sanlang treats me… very well."
Sang Zhi was not good at lying. After saying this, she felt her face flush red.
Even her long, curled eyelashes trembled incessantly beneath her eyes.
Pei He'an took it all in, lightly rotating the Bodhi wristlet around his wrist.
Such a person could be seen through with a single glance when lying.
If she were clever, after seeing Lang Jun being punished today, she would know to seek a new patron to secure a foothold in the household.
At this moment, she should be sowing discord, asking him to stand up for her.
But instead, the person before him was doing everything to conceal the truth, trying to paint a picture of mutual affection between husband and wife.
Author's Note:
Dà Péi: Stop pretending. I already know that lp and Sanlang have no mutual affection at all.