The day of returning to her family was an important occasion. Jiang Yunniang deliberately dressed in a long gown of misty blue, wrapped in a snow‑white fox‑fur cloak. Her features were striking—she carried the boldness of the Lu clan and the refined delicacy of Jiang Tingzhou. After a year back in the Jiang household, her complexion had grown fairer.
With such careful adornment, even Song Wenling glanced at her several times.
“Let’s go.” Song Wenling withdrew his gaze and walked ahead.
The two first went to pay respects to Madam Zhang and Song Qingbai.
Song Qingbai looked at Madam Zhang, who then spoke: “Today is the return visit. Bairou’s matter concerns the honor of both our families. Do not speak of it before others. I will have Nanny Wang accompany you—remember, do not let this become a scandal.”
Just yesterday, Song Qingbai had repeatedly warned Song Wenling never to let anyone know that Jiang Bairou was pregnant. If Lu and Jiang Yunniang learned of it, they would gain even more leverage over them. Yet the Song family could not allow their descendants to be left outside. If all else failed, Bairou would have to enter the household under the status of a concubine of low birth. This, of course, Song Wenling refused to accept.
With different thoughts in mind, the couple left the Song residence. They did not even need a carriage—just a few steps forward brought them to the Jiang household.
The two families were separated only by a wall. On ordinary days, any quarrel in one house could be heard in the other.
As soon as Jiang Yunniang saw the Jiang family plaque, she spotted Nanny Lin, her mother’s trusted servant, smiling as she descended the steps to greet them.
“Eldest Miss, Eldest Son‑in‑Law, you’ve finally arrived. Madam had me wait at the gate since early morning, afraid to miss your arrival.” Nanny Lin, an old servant of Madam Lu, discreetly studied the pair. Seeing no joy on the son‑in‑law’s face, and noticing Nanny Wang had come along, she grew uneasy.
“How is Mother’s health?” Jiang Yunniang asked.
“The same as always. Only if you persuade her will Madam eat a little more.” Speaking of her mistress’s condition, Nanny Lin sighed. “But let’s not dwell on that—come inside quickly. The Old Madam is waiting.”
Compared to the bustling Song family, the Jiang household was far simpler.
Jiang Tingzhou was the only son of the family. His only sister had married far away to Yangzhou. The patriarch had passed more than ten years ago, leaving only the elderly matriarch.
In Jiang Yunniang’s generation, she had one elder brother, who had married two years earlier. Below her, apart from Jiang Bairou, there was only one younger half‑brother born of a concubine.
They went directly to the Old Madam’s courtyard. Just as they reached the doorway, they heard the Old Madam’s low voice: “Why must you speak so harshly? Bairou kindly poured tea for you. Even if you didn’t wish to drink it, you could have left it untouched. Why smash the cup?”
“Mother, I… cough, cough…”
Hearing her mother’s weak cough, Jiang Yunniang lifted the curtain and entered. She saw the maids sweeping up shards of porcelain and quietly moved to her mother’s side.
“Just now, Nanny Lin said Mother could not swallow her medicine. Looking at her now, she is indeed pale and frail.” She turned toward her grandmother. “Grandmother, my mother’s hands are weak. It is entirely possible she accidentally dropped the cup. If you believe she did it deliberately, then I, as her daughter, apologize on her behalf.”
“Yunniang.” Madam Lu tugged at her daughter’s sleeve, signaling she did not need to go so far. She truly had not meant it—her fingertip had barely brushed the cup when it slipped and shattered. Suspecting Jiang Bairou had done it intentionally, she had scolded her a few words.
“Mother, don’t worry. Grandmother is the most reasonable person. She would never scold us without cause.” Jiang Yunniang flattered the Old Madam with a smile, leaving her at a loss for words.
From the moment Jiang Yunniang entered, the Old Madam hadn’t yet spoken. Now, looking at her, she wondered if it was her imagination—Jiang Yunniang’s bearing seemed somehow different.
“Enough, it’s nothing serious,” the Old Madam waved her hand. “Sit down, all of you.”
Jiang Yunniang sat beside her mother, while Song Wenling gazed tenderly at Jiang Bairou, lost in thought until Jiang Tingzhou spoke to him. Only then did he snap back to himself and sit down next to Jiang Yunniang.
Jiang Bairou stood behind the Old Madam, her eyes red. When she met Song Wenling’s gaze, she lowered her head, looking like a timid little white rabbit.
Madam Lu, most concerned for her daughter, was the first to speak, “Yunniang, are you well in the Song household?”
“All is well. My mother‑in‑law cares deeply for me. She even returned the storeroom keys, saying I should keep them myself. She worries I’ll tire, so she doesn’t insist I follow strict rules.” Jiang Yunniang smiled. “To have such a mother‑in‑law is truly my good fortune.”
Madam Lu had known Madam Zhang for most of her life. She knew Madam Zhang was upright but strict, not the type to be so indulgent. Hearing her daughter’s words, she felt even less at ease.
Jiang Tingzhou, however, noticed nothing amiss. “Since your in‑laws are lenient, you must be filial to them. The Song household is not like the Jiang family—don’t let people say you lack proper manners.”
“Of course.” Jiang Yunniang looked at her father across the room, but she could not bring herself to like him.
In her past life, when she was framed, her father never came to see her, never replied to her letters. Later, Bairou visited her and she learned her father had already abandoned her.
Even now, Jiang Tingzhou was dissatisfied with this daughter. Raised in the countryside, exposed in public since childhood, she was inferior to Jiang Bairou in etiquette, accomplishments, and refinement. If people knew she had once traveled with armed escorts, the Jiang family would be laughed at.
If not for Madam Lu’s insistence on finding her true daughter, Jiang Tingzhou would never have sought her out. After all, Jiang Bairou was also his daughter.
As they spoke, the two Lu brothers arrived, accompanied by Lu Jianye’s wife, Madam Zhao.
Madam Zhao, also from a military family, was forthright in manner. Seeing Jiang Yunniang, she teased, “Marriage truly changes a woman. Today, cousin, you look even more beautiful.”
“You are the beautiful one, cousin‑in‑law.” Jiang Yunniang had a good impression of Madam Zhao. In her past life, Madam Zhao, like her, disliked Jiang Bairou, finding her pretentious and affected.
With more people present, the room grew crowded. The Old Madam, harboring thoughts of marrying Jiang Bairou into the Lu family, suggested everyone move to the garden.
The day was clear and bright. Jiang Yunniang supported her mother, while Jiang Wang and the others pulled Song Wenling ahead. Jiang Bairou lagged behind, accompanied by Lu Jianfeng.
Lu Jianfeng was eighteen, a year older than Jiang Bairou. He had liked her since childhood, but knowing she was to marry Song Wenling, he never dared reveal his feelings. Now, things were different.
“Cous… Cousin, were you crying just now?” Lu Jianfeng asked softly.
“No.” Jiang Bairou shook her head.
“I saw your eyes were red.” Lu Jianfeng pressed anxiously. “I know—it must be Yunniang who wronged you. Aunt only cares for Yunniang, so life here must be hard for you.”
Jiang Bairou said nothing, but in Lu Jianfeng’s eyes, her silence confirmed she was bullied. He fumed, “Don’t worry. Yunniang is married into the Song family now—she won’t be able to bully you anymore. You’re kind and pure, you deserve… deserve a better man.”
As he spoke, Lu Jianfeng’s dark, honest face flushed red.
Jiang Bairou understood his feelings, but she had no desire to marry him. He was not the eldest son, so he could not inherit the Lu title. He was slow‑witted, unable to speak until age five, and stammered when nervous. He had no future. To marry him would mean a lifetime stuck in the harsh northern frontier. She disliked the bitter cold of the north and disliked Lu Jianfeng’s ignorance even more. Her bond with Song Wenling was one of childhood affection. He was the youngest scholar to achieve the “triple crown” in examinations, certain to place in the top ranks at the palace exam. In Shengjing, people said the Song brothers would both one day reach the highest offices.
Still, being admired by men felt good. Even if she didn’t like Lu Jianfeng, she could use him. She lowered her voice timidly: “Brother Jianfeng, did I do something wrong? Is that why things are like this?”
“Oh, don’t… don’t cry. You’ve done nothing wrong. If anyone is to blame, it’s that wicked wet nurse. Don’t worry, I’ll see you get justice.” Lu Jianfeng looked at his aunt and Jiang Yunniang ahead, feeling they were too cruel. Jiang Bairou had done nothing wrong, yet Aunt ignored her, and Jiang Yunniang, even if she felt wronged, should not have pressed Jiang Bairou down.
Turning these thoughts over, Lu Jianfeng resolved to speak to Jiang Yunniang later.
Walking ahead, Jiang Yunniang seemed to sense something. She glanced back, then lowered her voice to her mother: “Mother, do you agree to Cousin Jianfeng and Bairou’s match?”
Madam Lu sighed. “What choice do I have? My mother‑in‑law insists on arranging it. I objected, but she pressed me with filial duty. And that foolish boy Jianfeng has truly set his heart on Jiang Bairou.”
Whenever she thought of her daughter suffering outside for more than ten years, Madam Lu felt resentment toward Jiang Bairou. Not hatred—after all, she had raised Jiang Bairou herself, and there was some affection. But her emotions were complicated, and she simply did not wish to see Jiang Bairou anymore.
Jiang Yunniang understood the reason for her mother’s sigh. Looking around, she said softly, “Mother, I have something to tell you.”