Wen Ning was reborn. In her previous life, her family arranged for her to marry Song Yan.
She was the eldest illegitimate daughter of a fifth-rank official’s household. Her father, Wen Zheng, was a cautious man, meticulous in court, fearful of making the slightest mistake. Her stepmother, Madam Xu, managed the household with strict discipline. Wen Ning was the only illegitimate daughter, raised by her concubine mother.
All affairs of the Wen family, great or small, were controlled by Madam Xu—including Wen Ning’s marriage.
Song Yan was a distant relative of the Wens, hardly connected at all. Yet he possessed some learning and a talent for winning people’s favor. After arriving in the capital, he brought his mother to pay respects to Wen Zheng.
Though Wen Zheng held the rank of fifth-rank official, he was not a native of the capital. For Wen Ning, as a concubine-born daughter, marriage prospects were difficult. Families like theirs often sent daughters of her status to become concubines in noble households.
Fortunately, Wen Zheng still carried the pride of a scholar. He refused to be accused of selling his daughter for advancement. And just then, Song Yan appeared.
At a young age, Song Yan had already passed the provincial exam. Though poor, talent was valued regardless of birth. If his family had been wealthier, he would never have considered Wen Ning, a concubine-born girl.
Wen Zheng shared his thoughts with Madam Xu. At first, she disagreed. Wen Ning, like her mother, had a foxlike beauty—wouldn’t it be better to send her to a powerful prince in the capital? But Wen Zheng refused, and Madam Xu, unwilling to quarrel with her husband, reluctantly agreed.
After marriage, Wen Ning was dutiful and gentle. She honored her in-laws and used her dowry to support her husband’s career.
At last, Song Yan achieved the highest honor, becoming the top scholar in the imperial exams. Everyone said Wen Ning was blessed. But she never imagined that Song Yan would bring another woman into their home.
While Wen Ning lay ill, the two carried on in secret. Song Yan, now past thirty, still appeared elegant and refined, while Wen Ning, worn down by years of toil, looked haggard. The woman was of similar age, yet pampered and radiant like a young maiden, clinging to Song Yan’s arm with coquettish affection—a perfect match of talent and beauty.
Wen Ning did not resent him for taking a concubine. But Song Yan wanted more than that—he wanted to marry the woman, and he wanted Wen Ning dead.
“Rong’er and I were childhood sweethearts. If not for the power of your family, I would have married her long ago.”
Wen Ning coughed up blood. Ever since her miscarriage, her health had declined day by day.
What broke her further were Su Rong’s words: “You were never worthy of bearing Yan Lang’s child. He put safflower in your food—you killed your own baby with your own hands.”
Her body was already frail. Hearing this, she could not catch her breath. Rage consumed her, and she died.
When Wen Ning awoke again, she spent days in sorrow. But she was not the only one troubled. Madam Xu was also distressed. She never imagined that not only had Wen Zheng lost control lately, but her beloved youngest daughter, Wen Qing, as well.
Wen Qing woke one morning in hysterics, crying that she refused to marry the Shen family’s young heir. Even today, she had thrown several tantrums already.
Madam Xu felt a headache coming on—she had only just coaxed Wen Zheng away when another servant reported that Wen Qing was once again refusing food and smashing things.
Helpless, Madam Xu worried that if Wen Qing’s tantrums reached Wen Zheng’s ears, the consequences would be dire. She hurried to Wen Qing’s courtyard without even stopping for dinner.
Like Wen Ning, Wen Qing had also been reborn. In her previous life, Wen Qing married Shen Zhou, heir to the Duke’s household—a match considered far above her station. Before the wedding, Wen Qing basked in pride, but she never imagined Shen Zhou would turn out to be a libertine.
On their wedding night, he told her he had urgent business at the brothel. Wen Qing was outraged, quarreled with him, but Shen Zhou left anyway and did not return until morning, making her the laughingstock of the Duke’s household.
The next day, her in-laws comforted her, showered her with jewelry shops, and even dragged Shen Zhou back to beat him. Yet none of this curbed his behavior. He continued to haunt the brothels, devoted only to his mistress. He would rather spend his allowance on courtesans than touch his wife.
At last, her mother-in-law advised her to accept the mistress into the household. Wen Qing nearly fainted with rage—sharing her husband with a courtesan? How could she hold her head high? But since Shen Zhou refused to consummate their marriage, she had no choice but to agree, for the sake of heirs.
Resentful, Wen Qing tormented the woman, but the mistress was cunning and Wen Qing gained no advantage. Their quarrels over her never ceased.
Eventually, Shen Zhou lost patience and eloped with the mistress, leaving the entire Duke’s household to Wen Qing. Furious, she thought: if he could keep a mistress, why should she remain faithful? She took a lover of her own, but was discovered and drowned in a pond. When she opened her eyes again, she was back before her marriage.
This time, Wen Qing wanted nothing more than to escape Shen Zhou.
Madam Xu entered the room, saw the chaos, and pressed her temples.
“Qing’er, what is all this?”
Memories of her past life surged up. Wen Qing, trembling with anger and fear, clung to her mother and sobbed: “Mother, I don’t want to marry Shen Zhou.”
Madam Xu froze, then scolded her in exasperation: “Foolish girl! If you won’t marry the Duke’s heir, do you expect to wed the Son of Heaven himself?”
Wen Qing shook her head through tears. “No, Mother. Shen Zhou is reckless—he spends his days drinking and at brothels. For me to marry him would be like stepping into a pit of fire.”
Madam Xu faltered. “That… can’t be true, can it?”
Wen Qing cried: “Send someone to inquire, and you’ll see.”
Madam Xu dispatched her trusted servant, and the reports confirmed Wen Qing’s words. Shen Zhou spent every night at the brothels. The Duke himself had lost his temper over it, but the heir remained defiant. The Duchess had only thought to marry him to a virtuous wife in hopes of restraining him.
Madam Xu hesitated. The Duke’s household promised immense wealth, but she knew her daughter—spoiled since childhood, she would only suffer there. She shared her doubts with Wen Zheng. He had heard rumors and was uneasy about marrying Wen Qing to Shen Zhou. Yet since the Duke himself had proposed, it would be difficult to refuse. Besides, Shen Zhou was a libertine, but youthful indulgence was hardly unheard of.
Madam Xu then asked about Song Yan. Wen Zheng’s spirits lifted, and he praised the young man endlessly—how he was destined for great success, certain to place among the top three in the exams, steady and composed in all his dealings. Wen Ning’s marriage to him was a blessing earned from a past life.
Hearing this, Madam Xu’s heart wavered. She asked Wen Zheng: “Could we swap the two girls’ marriages?”