“From now on… I shall entrust myself to Fourth Cousin.”
After a graceful bow, Sang Wu turned and disappeared into the wisteria draping the hanging-flower corridor.
The wisteria cascaded like a waterfall. Pei Xu’s gaze drifted slightly toward her retreating figure.
The long shawl draped over her arm was lighter than the blue smoke rising from the incense burner.
As she brushed past him, it seemed to unintentionally sweep across the back of his hand.
Warm fragrance and soft jade.
Pei Xu’s expression remained indifferent.
Her figure was already out of sight, so why was the Young Master still looking? He had clearly said he needed to report to the Old Madam.
Li Yan’s eyes held confusion.
He dared not speak, dared not ask. This corner fell into silent stillness.
.
Whenever a private agreement is brought into the open to become a public precedent, it is necessary to establish rigorous documents and ceremonies to balance interests and reduce disputes.
Under the witness of the clan head and a gathering of elders, Third Master transferred the inheritance rights of his assets into the hands of Pei Silang.
He was a man extremely skilled in managing lands and estates. The clearly itemized, lengthy list was also a demonstration of the third branch’s sincerity.
However, for Pei Xu, the assets of the third branch were merely something he would manage temporarily on their behalf.
Perhaps some adopted sons, after succeeding to both parental lines in a Jian-si (Succession Marriage), might gradually transfer valuable properties to their original biological parents’ branch. But Pei Xu not only possessed private property acquired since he began his official career, but also the wealth accumulated by Second Minister during his lifetime. The fortune under his name had already reached a considerable and impressive sum.
Even without these, he disdained employing such methods.
Only the descendants born to him as the adopted son would become the true heirs of the third branch.
After reporting to the ancestors, the clan head made a notation beside Pei Xu’s name.
In truth, this kind of arrangement has a more straightforward name among the common people—levirate marriage.
It touches upon the most delicate corner of the patriarchal clan system. Although there are precedents among high-ranking Scholar-Gentry families, it is ultimately not recognized by mainstream rites and laws.
This was also the reason Pei Silang found it difficult to accept.
The clan head, however, was a flexible man. He meticulously avoided any mention of “marriage,” defining the matter solely as “establishing an heir.”
Sang Wu stood quietly in the corner, watching as the clan head wrote that small vermilion notation.
The eldest son of Yungong, Xin (Sixth Brother), died young without issue.
His betrothed, Lady Sang, preserved her chastity, served her parents-in-law, and was commended for her virtuous fidelity.
Moved by concern for the ancestral sacrifices, his cousin Xu (Fourth Brother) shall undertake the Jian-si (Succession Marriage).
He shall take his brother’s widow as his wife, regarding her as the adoptive mother.
He shall establish her son as the heir to continue the sacrifices.
What could have been viewed as an incestuous act was completely reframed into a noble deed: Pei Silang considering the greater good, sacrificing himself, and continuing the ancestral line—thus cleverly preserving the family’s dignity.
As for the Old Madam, aside from being angry, she could do nothing.
In matters of marriage, the parents’ command holds supreme authority. Pei Xu’s father, Second Minister, had already passed away. Since the remaining Second Madam raised no objection to this matter, even if it was not entirely in accordance with proper rites, it was not something others could criticize.
Afterward, the adoption document was signed and sealed by the elders present, made in duplicate, and solemnly handed over to Third Master and Pei Xu.
At this moment, it seemed the ceremony was complete.
Sang Wu felt dazed.
Was it… really this simple?
Although the clan elders had done their utmost to embellish and beautify the essence of this matter with euphemisms, the fact remained that she had ultimately become Pei Silang’s wife.
She looked toward the young man not far ahead. As he conversed with the clan head, he was unhurried and composed, his demeanor steady.
He had changed into another round-collared robe of kylin-brown silk gauze, with wide, draping sleeves, making him appear even more dignified and noble. The sunlight outside the eaves was brilliant, causing the gold ornaments on his didai belt to shine dazzlingly.
Sang Wu's gaze swept over his profile, tall and straight against the sunlight, the movement of his Adam's apple as he spoke, his taut waist, and the back of his hand…
It all felt somewhat unreal.
The clan head and Third Master were conversing as they walked out. Pei Xu followed half a step behind Third Master, offering a slight support when the other descended the stone steps.
Standing in the central courtyard, Third Master gave his arm a firm squeeze: "He Lang."
Pei Xu replied, "I'll see you back."
As the adopted son of the third branch, this was the basic filial duty expected of him.
Third Master waved his hand dismissively: "No need."
He smiled ambiguously: "When you have time, you should still get familiar with things."
Pei Xu paused for a moment.
Looking up, he saw Sang Wu emerging from the ancestral hall.
The sunlight was dazzling, the spring scenery enchanting.
Pei Xu lowered his gaze, about to decline, when Third Master spoke first: "Alright, I'll walk by myself. You young people don't need to follow."
Pei Xu could only bow slightly to see him off.
Sang Wu saw Pei Xu turn his head and instinctively began, "Fourth…"
But when she suddenly realized that their relationship had just been definitively settled, her voice cut off abruptly.
The atmosphere grew unavoidably awkward.
After a moment, Sang Wu took a deep breath, suppressing the awkwardness within, and looked up at Pei Xu again.
A slightly shy "Lang Jun" drifted to his ears.
It was still that soft voice, yet it somehow felt different from before.
Pei Xu glanced at her, his expression calm on the surface.
Only the knuckles hidden beneath his sleeves involuntarily curled slightly.
His ears itched.
It felt extremely unfamiliar.
Sang Wu cleared her throat as well.
But there was an important matter she still needed to clarify.
She said bashfully, "So, I… where should I go back to?"
Should she continue living in her original small courtyard, or move to Pei Xu's quarters?
This needed to be made clear.
Pei Xu's expression shifted slightly.
The adoption document recorded the transfer of assets and inheritance of children, but not this.
His first thought was that if Sang Wu lived under the same roof as Third Madam, he would feel as if he were being watched whenever he entered the inner quarters.
This was because, subconsciously, he hadn't fully adjusted to the change, which made the situation feel delicate and uncomfortable.
It was also because he had never taken a wife or concubine, nor even had a chambermaid—his experience in matters of romance was entirely blank. In the past, when busy, he could even stay at the official residence for several days in a row, and usually spent most of his time in the study when at home.
Naturally, it was difficult for him to realize that husband and wife could, in fact, live together.
Now, he asked, "Are you currently living in the side courtyard of the third branch?"
Sang Wu shook her head.
She explained, "Father-in-law needs quiet to recuperate. Before the New Year, Mother-in-law dismissed half of the servants, and I moved out as well."
Pei Xu raised an eyebrow: "Alone?"
"Yes," Sang Wu said. "Jibai Hall, just west of the third branch."
Then, fearing he might not know the location since he had just returned, she pointed in its direction.
That finger was slender.
Under the sun, it gleamed dazzlingly white.
After a moment of silence, Pei Xu quickly made a decision: "No need for you to move."
He thought to himself that he wouldn't be staying in Yuhang for long—that was a fact.
Perhaps two months, or by the time summer arrived, he would return to Chang'an. And then… he certainly wouldn't take her with him.
Since that was the case, why make her adjust to a temporary new environment?
Sang Wu was happy to take it easy: "Alright."
"Lang Jun…"
She called him that again.
Pei Xu's long fingers pressed against his sleeve.
It truly felt different.
Though she still wore the same plain dress from the morning, the impression she gave was different now.
A subtle change had occurred in her gaze.
Where it had once been perpetually misty, it was now clear and bright.
Pei Xu couldn’t tell whether this was because his own perspective toward her had shifted or because she herself had begun to bloom with vitality.
"Is there something else?" he asked in the calmest tone.
"No…"
Sang Wu looked at him and said, "I’m going back."
Pei Xu nodded. "Alright."
Sang Wu also said, "Alright." But her feet didn’t move, and she continued to look at him just like that.
Pei Xu was puzzled.
Sang Wu pursed her lips.
If it were Pei Liulang or any of the young gentlemen she had befriended in her maiden days, when she said, "I’m going back," they would eagerly offer to escort her.
But this one before her…
She tried again. "It’s almost time for lunch."
Pei Xu finally understood.
"I still have matters to attend to," he said.
Sang Wu looked at him and, seeing he had nothing more to add or explain, lowered her eyes and nodded. "Alright then."
In her heart, she understood that everyone’s personality was different—some were sincere and straightforward, while others were reserved and steady. Moreover… he himself wasn’t exactly willing in the first place.
Thinking this way, her earlier expectations seemed rather laughable.
Still, she couldn’t help but sigh softly.
"I’m leaving," she said.
That faintly disappointed look didn’t escape Pei Xu’s notice. Watching her light, graceful figure recede, he suddenly recalled the information he had inadvertently glimpsed earlier when the clan head was revising the family register.
—Though she had already come of age and observed a year of widowhood, she was still only seventeen years old.
To Pei Xu, who was mature, steady, and older, she truly was very young.
Pei Xu couldn’t help but smile faintly.
But how could he be like that restless young man, Sixth Brother?
.
After lunch, Sang Wu rested alone in her room for a short while.
When she woke from this nap, the light inside the bed curtains was dim. She lay with her eyes open, staring at the canopy for a moment, until she heard the sound of banana leaves pattering against the window lattice and realized it was raining again.
Ever since March arrived, the weather had been more rainy than sunny. Sang Wu reached out and pushed open a sliver of the window, letting the gentle sound of rain trickle in.
Tao Zhier was probably slacking off somewhere, or perhaps gossiping with other young maids. When she learned of the matter today, she had nearly been frightened to death. Now that she had recovered, she was sure to chatter nonstop.
It was good for a young maid to be lively. Sang Wu paid her no mind and picked up the half-finished painting from yesterday.
On the silk canvas, a pair of wild geese had already taken rough shape.
In the hall, the bamboo curtain was half-rolled up, allowing sparse daylight to filter through. After adding the final few strokes, she stood up and stretched her arms.
Outside, the rain still fell urgently. It was still early before nightfall.
After pacing around the room a couple of times, she stepped outside and walked under the eaves.
Just as she was watching the rain curtain, someone gradually approached from beyond the moon gate, holding an umbrella.
Sang Wu paused and looked at the unfamiliar maid.
"My name is Yingtao. I’m a maid from the second household," the other girl curtsied and said in a clear, crisp voice, "Young Madam!"
Sang Wu couldn’t help but smile. "Did your Young Master send you?"
Yingtao’s eyes also held a smile. "Yes, indeed!"
"…Our Young Master went out at noon," Yingtao, having been pulled to sit on the couch and given a few pieces of pastry, opened up like a chatterbox. "It seems the Prefect hosted a banquet. I’m not too sure myself; the sisters in the study would know more… He drank some wine, came back, took a nap, and then went to Huaiyun Study again."
"Young Master isn’t often in the residential quarters," she giggled. "I have it quite easy."
Sang Wu sized up Yingtao, who was younger than Linqin. She looked to be only fourteen or fifteen, and was clearly more lively.
Indeed, she lived up to her name—round-faced with rosy cheeks.
So there really was something going on, not just an excuse.
Sang Wu’s mood lifted a little. “Then why did he send you?”
Yingtao put on a mysterious expression.
Sang Wu, ever perceptive, asked, “Is he… is he coming over tonight?”
Yingtao giggled. “Mm!”
Earlier, before Yingtao arrived, Sang Wu had been contemplating this very question while admiring the rain. She had hesitated for only a moment, ultimately deciding not to send anyone to ask.
When it came to men, she wasn’t in the habit of always taking the initiative.
Even with Pei Liulang, who was also from a prominent family, she had merely helped him restore an old painting that even a seasoned painter couldn’t repair.
When she personally returned the painting and saw Pei Liulang again, the young man’s eyes were brimming with joy. “Lady Sang, it’s you again!”
Then there was the Ninth Brother of the Cao family, whom Pei Ba Niang had mentioned—another young master from an official family. Even though Sang Wu remained aloof, he was still attentive to her.
Sang Wu knew it was all because of her good looks.
Unexpectedly, she had hit a wall with Pei Silang.
But despite this setback, his act of sending Yingtao to keep her company and deliver a message was, in her eyes, a gesture of goodwill.
Sang Wu felt relieved and smiled gently.
Along with that relief came nervousness.
She… after all, had never truly become husband and wife with Pei Liulang.
The wedding… with mourning rites preceding it, she had only sought the protection of the third branch. Naturally, the household wouldn’t hold a grand ceremony for her.
From a young age, Sang Wu had learned to read people’s expressions. In such circumstances, even if she had thoughts of her own, she wouldn’t show them.
But now was different from back then.
Pei Silang was proud and somewhat aloof, but he wasn’t a gossip or overly talkative. Perhaps she could afford to be a little more delicate.
Sang Wu quickly adjusted her mindset, ready to embrace a new life.
Indeed, it was often said among the common folk that a woman’s marriage was like a rebirth. If she married into a good family, she could blossom into a delicate and radiant peony; if not, she would be like the morning glory—blooming at dawn and withering by noon.
Sang Wu wasn’t familiar with Pei Xu, but thinking of the sincere and simple Pei Liulang and the calculating Third Master for Third Madam, she held a bit more expectation for the young masters of the Pei Family.
She took out the most beautiful dress from her wardrobe.
It was a high-waisted ruqun, with a pomegranate-red skirt. The waistband was tied with a daylily-colored silk shawl, the other end softly draped over her arm. The vibrant colors made her neck appear even fairer, as if surpassing frost and snow.
In the bronze mirror, her face was as delicate and radiant as the bright moon.
“How is it?” she asked, turning her head.
The two young maids were stunned.
Yingtao stammered, “So… so beautiful!”
Taozhi was slightly better off, though she wasn’t used to it yet—her face flushed red.
Sang Wu pursed her lips in amusement and beckoned to her. “Yingtao.”
Yingtao hurried over to support her.
Sang Wu had started dressing up only after finishing her evening meal. Since Yingtao’s news wasn’t firsthand, they could only speculate about Pei Xu’s approximate whereabouts based on his usual daily routine.
“The Young Master rises before mao hour. He practices swordplay.”
“He usually returns from the study around xu hour, at most half an hour later. Sometimes he rests directly in the front quarters.”
From Yingtao’s description, Sang Wu gradually sketched out an image of a disciplined, strict Zhuangyuan.
A noble gentleman, refined and polished, like jade carved and smoothed.
In this world, which woman does not wish for her husband to be outstanding?
Sang Wu couldn't help but curl the corners of her lips: "What time is it now?"
Tao Zhier: "Half past the Hour of the Rooster!"
Yingtao giggled: "He must be coming soon."
The Hour of the Rooster passed.
The Hour of the Dog, the Hour of the Pig…
Sang Wu, dressed in a pomegranate-red skirt, her eyes filled with anticipation.
Author's Note:
Standing Wu up today, Wu will stew the pigeon tomorrow (noted in the book
Morning glory①