Sheng Xiangqiao remembered Shen Fangxie boasting that the Tian family had hired a master perfumer to create that fragrance. What she did not know was whether the girl who admired her cousin was Miss Shen or one of the Tian daughters.
But Cheng Tianfu would likely never marry any girl connected to the Tian family. So another broken heart would be added to the world.
In any case, it would not benefit Madam Bai and her daughter. And if one thought further—if her cousin were to end up with two wives of equal rank, the admiration of the capital’s noble girls for him would surely diminish.
Sheng Xiangqiao sighed softly, thinking that his future marriage prospects might not be smooth.
In the following days, the Cheng household sent messengers several times, but were told Sheng Xuanhe had gone to repair the ancestral tombs.
Unable to find Sheng Xuanhe, the Chengs dared not trouble Madam Qin. They knew her temper well—unlike Sheng Xuanhe, she would not hesitate. If they rashly revealed Cheng Peinian’s misdeeds, she might, in her indignation, expose everything, disgracing both the Chengs and the Tians.
But pregnancy, like youth, waits for no one.
Sheng Xuanhe had taken leave from court for several days. Cheng Peinian grew restless and personally asked when he would return, but the servants did not know.
Back at the Cheng residence, Cheng Peinian stamped his foot in the hall, complaining to his elder brother: “The Shengs are truly inconsiderate! They know my sister is ill, yet instead of visiting her, they go off to repair tombs. Caring for the dead, ignoring the living!”
The elder brother, after puffing on his water pipe, advised: “Since he went to Yecheng, isn’t he alone? Go find him and bring him back.”
Thus, two days later, the Chengs stopped sending messengers. It was said Cheng Peinian himself had gone to Yecheng to seek him.
That day, Sheng Xiangqiao asked Ning Yan to prepare fruit and pastries, arranging them neatly on a tray to bring to Madam Qin. As a false young lady, she needed the shelter of a strong tree to stand firm in the Sheng household.
Her father, Sheng Xuanhe, knew she was an impostor and looked at her with disgust—no support there. Her cousin, though young and quiet, was too deep and calculating to rely upon. Only Madam Qin, though strict, was soft‑hearted beneath her sternness.
Lately, Sheng Xiangqiao loved spending time in Madam Qin’s courtyard, often chatting with her to pass the hours.
The newly arrived Madam Dan was pleased, privately telling Madam Qin’s attendants that she had expected the eldest young lady to be terribly unruly, but found instead that aside from being playful, she was filial and kind.
But today was clearly not the right time—her cousin was already speaking with Madam Qin inside.
Sheng Xiangqiao wisely did not enter. After a while, she heard Madam Qin call for her. Carrying the tray of cakes, she entered and saw her cousin seated on a chair, long lashes lowered, lost in thought.
In recent days, Madam Qin had sent word several times to the Cheng household, saying that if Sheng Guiniang’s health had improved, she should return to the Sheng family for a visit—she missed her daughter.
But the Chengs always found excuses to keep her, clearly afraid that if Sheng Guiniang came home, she might let something slip, or that someone respectable might advise her, ruining the plans Cheng Peinian and Tian Peirong had arranged.
Even when Madam Qin claimed she herself was unwell and wished to see her daughter, the Chengs refused, sending back only the message that Madam Sheng should rest longer before visiting.
The two Cheng brothers knew that Master Sheng was the easiest to persuade. Cheng Peinian and Sheng Xuanhe both served at court, and they knew their brother‑in‑law was adept at weighing advantage and avoiding harm. If they could convince him not to offend the Tian family and not to embarrass the Empress, he would eventually agree to let Tian Peirong enter as a wife of equal rank.
The Tian family was currently powerful, while the Shengs had a firm marriage alliance with the heir’s household. The Chengs wanted to please both sides, unwilling to divorce the Sheng daughter and make enemies at court. But Tian Peirong, using her unborn child as leverage, insisted she must enter the household quickly.
Thus, if they divorced, the Shengs would surely make a scandal, leaving Cheng Peinian branded as immoral—abandoning his wife and consorting with a widow.
Only if all three families remained harmonious would everyone save face.
Of course, this was only the Chengs’ calculation. Madam Qin, who had lived all her life decisively, could not tolerate her daughter being manipulated by her husband and a scheming widow.
Though Sheng Xiangqiao did not know the outcome of her cousin’s discussion with Madam Qin, it was clear that the old lady was eager to bring her daughter home.
Unfortunately, Sheng Guiniang was indecisive and had been thoroughly controlled by the Chengs. Even when Cheng Tianfu tried to return home to see his mother, Cheng Peinian ordered the gates shut, saying he was defying his father and should go back to the Shengs to reflect on his faults.
That day, Madam Qin spoke with Sheng Xiangqiao: “I am too old to visit the Chengs myself. You go in my place to see your aunt.”
Sheng Xiangqiao understood—her grandmother was worried, and wanted her to observe the situation. As a young girl, the Chengs would not guard against her too closely. So she agreed. Leaving her grandmother’s courtyard, she found her cousin walking out with her. But instead of heading to the study, he accompanied her along the path.
Sheng Xiangqiao looked up at him repeatedly, finally asking: “Cousin… is there something you wish to tell me?”
Cheng Tianfu stopped, gazing at her round eyes: “I heard Nanny Zhao was dismissed after you fell from the tree?”
Sheng Xiangqiao smiled cautiously: “Grandmother pitied her for being old and ill, and sent her home to rest. Who knew the prince’s household was so strict, and treated her…”
But Cheng Tianfu was not seeking to defend Nanny Zhao. He shifted the topic: “You are clever. When you go to the Chengs, can you find a way to persuade my mother to return?”
Sheng Xiangqiao, mindful of her own safety, had no wish to take on such delicate work. She smiled and said, “Aunt is ill and unwilling to move. Even Grandmother cannot bring her back—how could I succeed?”
Cheng Tianfu glanced at her and held up five fingers.
Sheng Xiangqiao drew in a breath: “As long as I can persuade Aunt to return, any method will do?”
Seeing her cousin nod, she stretched out both hands, turning them back and forth to show the number doubled, her gaze firm: This amount! Pay me once it’s done.”
The young man half‑closed his eyes, looked at the greedy little girl before him, and laughed: “No need. I’ll have Qing Yan give you a silver note shortly.” With that, he strode ahead.
Sheng Xiangqiao watched his generous back, her eyes soft with gratitude. She bowed sweetly: “Thank you, Cousin!”
That day, Sheng Xiangqiao prepared gifts for her aunt and set out by carriage.
The newly transferred Madam Dan accompanied her.
Madam Dan was short and slender, with a kindly face. Madam Qin, knowing her granddaughter’s temper, had deliberately chosen a gentle yet capable matron—someone who could guide the girl’s nature without indulging her faults.
Unaware of Sheng Xiangqiao’s true identity, Madam Dan served her as if she were the real young lady. Even Ning Yan, who knew the truth, dared not slacken.
Thus, Sheng Xiangqiao finally lived like a proper young lady: the carriage cushions soft, a hand warmer in her lap, carrying the medicines and boxes of pastries her grandmother had entrusted her to deliver—comfortably making her way to the Cheng household.
The Chengs had sent for the Shengs several times, but in the end, only a half‑grown girl came to visit her aunt.
Cheng Peifeng cursed the Shengs inwardly for being cold and discourteous. Still, since Cheng Peinian had gone to Yecheng to find Sheng Xuanhe, and Madam Qian had already spent days persuading Sheng Guiniang, now accompanying her to receive guests, it was no harm to meet the Sheng girl.
Cheng Peinian had already explained the gravity of matters to Sheng Guiniang. Though she had wept for days, she had not sent maids to the Shengs to seek counsel. So when she met her niece, she would surely not expose the family scandal.
At this critical time for Cheng Tianfu’s studies, Sheng Guiniang feared her brother‑in‑law might tell her son. She repeatedly warned that only the elder brother should be summoned to discuss Tian Peirong’s matter—under no circumstances should Cheng Tianfu know, lest it affect his examinations. If that happened, she would fight Cheng Peinian to the death.
Cheng Peinian naturally would never tell his son. Cheng Tianfu’s gentle demeanor was only for show; when enraged, even his own father could not withstand him. If he learned the truth, wouldn’t he tear the household apart?
So when the fourth son returned wanting to see his mother, the gates of the Cheng residence remained firmly shut.
They thought to wait a few more days—once Cheng Peinian found Sheng Xuanhe, then the three families could sit together and discuss matters properly.
As Tian Peirong had said privately, if the Tian family were disgraced, it would be a blot on the Empress’s face. Even a woman of the inner chambers like Sheng Guiniang understood the need to preserve the Tian family’s honor. Sheng Xuanhe, cautious as an official, would surely grasp this reasoning. There were many ways to persuade him to agree to the Chengs taking Tian Peirong as a wife of equal rank.
Thinking this, Cheng Peifeng felt reassured. Since the Sheng matriarch (Madam Qin) was uneasy, having Sheng Xiangqiao visit her aunt was acceptable. The Chengs needed favors from the Shengs, so proper courtesy had to be shown.
The Chengs were newly risen, wealthy merchants by origin. Their household lacked the grandeur of the Shengs, but upon entering the courtyard, one could see their lavishness—carved beams, painted rafters, gilded tiles —making it a place steeped in opulence.
Sheng Xiangqiao, stepping down from her carriage, saw all this and felt a pang of realization. No wonder her fourth cousin’s monthly allowance was so generous—this was truly a rich family.
By that measure, Madam Bai and her daughter had sharp eyes indeed, choosing their prospective son‑in‑law wisely.
Passing through the courtyards, Sheng Xiangqiao went directly to the second branch. But upon arrival, she learned that her aunt had visitors: Eldest Madam Shen, the wife of the eldest son of the Shen family, had come to call, accompanied by Madam Qian of the first branch.
Ning Yan, seizing a moment when Madam Dan was distracted, whispered to Sheng Xiangqiao: “This Madam Shen is Shen Fangxie’s mother. Her husband shares the same surname. She is Tian Peirong’s cousin, and often close with your aunt.”
Sheng Xiangqiao had heard of Eldest Madam Shen’s friendship with her aunt, though it had only grown warm in the past half year.
Tian Peirong was truly calculating—laying nets early to force her aunt’s compliance, all for the sake of marrying her lover.
Walking along the vine‑covered corridor toward her aunt’s quarters, Sheng Xiangqiao heard voices from the half‑open window of the tea pavilion: “Sister, though I am related to the Tian family, my heart is with you. You must understand—husband and wife are one body. If your husband’s reputation is damaged, not only will your children’s future marriages suffer, but even your brother’s remarriage to the Shang family’s daughter could be jeopardized. Better to grant him his wish and let the tale of Emperor Shun’s two wives be fulfilled.”
When the maid announced that Sheng Xiangqiao had come to visit her aunt, Eldest Madam Shen broke off, watching as Sheng Xiangqiao lifted the curtain and entered.
That day, Sheng Xiangqiao wore a lotus‑colored silk dress made from fabric her grandmother had given her. The gradient hues shone smooth and pure, like summer lotus blossoms, setting off her fair skin and slender waist. Her hair was neatly coiled, making her appear a refined young lady.
Recently, she had eaten well; her cheeks were fuller, her height had shot up, and she no longer needed thick shoe pads. She walked with light grace.
By the prince’s household’s design, she was to appear often, breaking old rumors and making people accustomed to her presence—until the false was taken for true. To outsiders, the Sheng girl seemed prettier than before, but it was only the natural bloom of growing up.
Eldest Madam Shen knew this little girl had slapped her daughter some days ago. She had never paid much attention to the Sheng family’s young lady before, but now realized she was such an unruly child.
That day, when her daughter Shen Fangxie returned home crying, Eldest Madam Shen was so furious she smashed two teacups, cursing that the Shengs, a family of scholars, had raised a shrew.
Today, she had come to persuade Sheng Guiniang to be sensible, to convince the Shengs to agree so that Lady Huishu could enter the household sooner. She had not expected that the arrogant, ill‑mannered girl herself would come. So when she heard at the front gate that the Sheng eldest daughter had arrived, Eldest Madam Shen deliberately stayed, determined to meet her and vent her anger for her daughter.
When Sheng Xiangqiao entered and greeted her aunt, Eldest Madam Shen looked her up and down, then warmly said to Sheng Guiniang: “This must be your elder brother’s daughter? She is pretty, though a bit hot‑tempered. Just recently, she quarreled with my girl. Children’s squabbles are normal, but Miss Sheng’s hand was heavy—my daughter’s face has yet to heal. Her father is strict, and because of the incident at Qianlong Temple, she is still punished at home, copying texts to calm her temper. Unlike Miss Sheng, who is already free to go out again…”
Though spoken politely, it was a veiled criticism of the Shengs’ lax discipline, failing to punish a girl who struck another. Madam Qian, sitting nearby, smiled awkwardly.
Sheng Guiniang also knew her niece had slapped Miss Shen at Qianlong Temple. Hearing Eldest Madam Shen’s words, she felt embarrassed. Looking at Sheng Xiangqiao, she said sharply, “Why don’t you apologize to Eldest Madam Shen? And my brother too—how could he let you out so soon?”
Sheng Xiangqiao saw clearly that her aunt was soft‑eared and easily swayed. Now she had been thoroughly intimidated by the Chengs’ arguments, losing all judgment, even treating Tian Peirong’s kin as confidantes. She thought of Madam Qin’s uncompromising strength, and could not understand how such a resolute woman had raised such a weak and muddled daughter.
But Sheng Xiangqiao was not ungrateful. Remembering her cousin’s monthly allowance, his occasional treats, and most importantly, the twenty taels of silver she had already received, she resolved to help his mother.
Thinking of this, she smiled and said to her aunt: “Why do you say that, Aunt? Eldest Madam Shen is hardly an outsider—she’s closer to you than kin. As an elder, how could she stoop to quarrel with me? My father never minded Miss Shen’s loose tongue when she tarnished the heir’s reputation, so surely Madam Shen won’t take my momentary anger to heart.”
That lofty compliment landed with a thud while slyly calling Shen Fangxie a tattler. Madam Shen’s brows shot up in fury. “You—”
Sheng Guiniang knew her niece’s temper well. For her to spar with a smile today was already remarkable restraint. Before things escalated into slaps and shouting, she quickly interjected: “Next time you see Miss Shen, you mustn’t lose your temper. You’re to be married soon—such domineering behavior won’t do in a prince’s household.”
Eldest Madam Shen sneered inwardly. Prince Cining was ruthless, and his consort was sharp-tongued and harsh with her servants—hardly a merciful mother-in-law. Once Sheng Xiangqiao entered that household, her future mother-in-law alone would be enough to make her suffer. And the heir’s notorious reputation? This little girl was in for bitter lessons.
With that thought, Eldest Madam Shen no longer wished to bicker with a mere slip of a girl. She had already persuaded Sheng Guiniang to speak with her brother; now was not the time to offend her. Once Lady Huishu married into the Cheng family, these declining Shengs would have no one to cry to. As for this little niece from the Chengs, she was only fulfilling her duty as a junior—bringing some fruit and pastries, sitting for a while, then leaving.
So Eldest Madam Shen forced a smile, told Sheng Guiniang to take care of her health, and rose to leave with Madam Qian.
Afterward, Sheng Guiniang had the maid bring sweet tea and confections to Sheng Xiangqiao, then said: “Was that proper, what you just did? Eldest Madam Shen only spoke a little, yet you answered with barbs. Fortunately, she’s close to me and magnanimous enough not to take offense. Child, when will you learn to be sensible?”
Shen Xiangqiao blinked in puzzlement. “Eldest Madam Shen’s husband serves in the Ministry of Personnel, under Lady Huishu’s elder brother, if I’m not mistaken. Eldest Madam Shen is known as one of the best at social maneuvering in the capital. Why then did she say she treats you better than the Tian family? Could it be that Uncle has been promoted and become Lord Shen’s new superior? So she’s shifting with the wind, deliberately currying favor with you?”
Sheng Guiniang faltered. How could Cheng Peinian be Lord Shen’s superior? Though talented, his rank was slightly lower. Still, the girl’s reasoning was sharp, and Shen Guiniang, unable to answer, grew annoyed. “You child, what nonsense! Eldest Madam Shen didn’t even scold you—why do you still bear a grudge?”
Sheng Xiangqiao laughed. “I was only fooling around with Miss Shen; there’s no real grudge. It’s just that when I came in, I heard her mention Ehuang and Nüying, and thought her version of history was pure nonsense. I wanted to argue with her, but she left in such a hurry.”
Hearing this, Sheng Guiniang lifted her head to glance at her niece. But she thought to herself—surely the girl had only overheard fragments, how could she know the inner workings of the Cheng family? With a sigh, she said: “Ehuang and Nüying are a tale praised through the ages. What is there to argue about?”
Sheng Xiangqiao bit into a pastry and mumbled: “Yao ceded the throne to Shun, and even married off two daughters to him. Aside from Shun’s virtue, wasn’t it also to plant trusted eyes at his side, lest he act out of line? Or perhaps Yao feared he might grow fickle, so the sisters together could fend off any seductive rivals and protect the Shun household’s power. This shows that though Yao was a wise emperor, he was not a good father. Did he never consider that two sisters sharing one husband might harbor resentment? It sounds beautiful sung through the centuries, but surely there were knots in their hearts. Luckily, the sages practiced abdication—Shun later passed the throne to Yu, who had merit in controlling the floods. Otherwise, the struggle for the heir’s seat alone would have been enough to set the sisters against each other.”
Sheng Guiniang listened with a stiff face, unable to hold back a bitter smile. “What nonsense you speak…” But halfway through, she faltered.
These past days, her husband had knelt to admit fault, promising again and again that when Tian Peirong entered the household, he would still honor her as elder sister, never disturbing her rightful place as principal wife. The senior couple, and even close friends, had all urged her that the only proper course now was to imitate Ehuang and Nüying. After all, there was precedent in this dynasty—founding ministers had sometimes taken co-wives from old noble families to strengthen alliances.
She thought that if she refused, her husband’s reputation would suffer, and her children would be dragged down. So she had half a mind to yield. Yet hearing her niece’s innocent words today, she realized there was truth in them.
Tian Peirong had entered with a child. If she bore a daughter, it would be manageable. But if it were a son, would he not one day contend with her own son for the heir’s position? Cheng Tianfu was wild and rebellious, never favored by his father. If another son were born of a co-wife and won affection, then the family estate itself might be divided.
Thinking this, Sheng Guiniang’s heart soured. She forced a bitter smile. “You are still young, you don’t understand…”
Sheng Xiangqiao protested: “What does age have to do with it? Even a three-year-old, when his toy is snatched, knows to scratch back! Ehuang and Nüying were simply soft persimmons, easy to squeeze. Or else they had someone like Eldest Madam Shen, blind to right and wrong, urging them on—so they were muddled into one bridal sedan, and it became a so-called ‘beautiful tale.’ Any sensible person would have nipped such a scheme in the bud!”
Strangely, the child’s words left Sheng Guiniang uneasy, stirring her worries for her children’s future. With a long sigh, she even followed up:
“Then tell me—how should one nip it in the bud?”
Sheng Xiangqiao chewed her pastry. “Of course by consulting those dearest and most trusted. One mustn’t listen to the babble of people waiting to profit, and muddle oneself into becoming another Ehuang or Nüying.”
Guiniang nodded, but felt the little girl’s words carried hidden meaning. She asked warily: “You… why are you telling me all this?”
Sheng Xiangqiao laughed. “Isn’t it just idle chatter that led us here? Oh, by the way, Aunt, you don’t seem too ill to rise from bed. Why then has Grandmother sent for you several times, and you’ve refused to go?”
Of course, Sheng Guiniang was not bedridden.
But the last quarrel with Cheng Peinian had dragged their son into the middle. Now that Cheng Peinian had gotten that Tian widow pregnant, if Tianfu were to find out, he would surely clash with his father again—disrupting his studies. And if her elderly mother were troubled with such sordid matters, it would be her daughter’s unfilial failing.
Middle age brings too many worries. After all, she had lived half a lifetime with Cheng Peinian. Their youthful passion had long cooled; if he wanted to take a new wife, let him.
These days, she had heard only words of comfort, like Eldest Madam Shen’s. Yet now, a mere girl had pierced straight to the heart of the matter, leaving Sheng Guiniang unsettled.
Still, when Sheng Xiangqiao urged her to return to the Sheng household to see her mother, Sheng Guiniang shook her head. She feared that upon seeing her mother, she would break down in tears and expose her husband’s disgrace. If her mother knew, she would be furious, and then there would be no room left for negotiation. She must avoid her mother and seek counsel from her brother instead. For the sake of her son’s future, she had to swallow this filth in silence. She could not let her son become the laughingstock of others. So she made an excuse: her headache was severe, she mustn’t catch a cold, and for now she could not go out. “Take word back to Mother that I am well. If your father returns, tell him to come see me quickly.”
Sheng Xiangqiao said nothing, only sipping her fragrant tea. Sheng Guiniang, unwilling to fuss over a little girl, added: “There’s nothing entertaining here. If you’re bored, go play with your cousin Deqing.”
Sheng Xiangqiao smiled. “No need. Since Aunt is well, I’ll be off. Ah, I nearly forgot—Grandmother asked me to bring you a letter, but I left it in the carriage. Why don’t you walk me to the gate? It isn’t good to stay shut indoors all the time. Today there’s no wind—perfect for a breath of fresh air!”
For a junior to shamelessly ask an elder to escort her was against all propriety. But Sheng Xiangqiao was spoiled and willful; if denied, she would surely throw a tantrum, rolling on the ground or threatening to jump into a well.
So Sheng Guiniang treated her like a plague god, forced herself up, donned a cloak, and accompanied her niece to the gate.
When they reached the carriage, Sheng Xiangqiao said: “The letter is in the small chest inside. I don’t like servants rummaging through my things—Aunt, could you fetch it for me?”
Sheng Guiniang thought her niece was being difficult, but helplessly leaned in to take the chest. Suddenly, someone shoved her hard from behind. Caught off guard, she cried out, “Ah!”—and tumbled headlong into the carriage.
The Cheng household’s gatekeepers stared in shock as the young lady of the Sheng family shoved their Second Madam, then leapt into the carriage and shouted to the driver with full vigor: “It’s done! Hurry, drive back to the Sheng estate!”
The driver, as if already instructed, cracked his whip, and the carriage sped down the stone-paved street.
The gatekeepers and Sheng Guiniang’s personal maids and attendants were dumbfounded, suspecting their mistress had been abducted by street kidnappers.
At last, the newly assigned matron from Madam Qian regained her senses and cried out urgently: “Quick, report to Master—the Second Madam has been… has been carried off by the Sheng family’s eldest young lady!”
Meanwhile, inside the carriage, Sheng Guiniang was utterly bewildered. Hadn’t Sheng Xiangqiao only asked her to walk her out? Why had she suddenly shoved her into the carriage? She was wearing soft rabbit-fur slippers without heels, and in the scuffle, one had even fallen off—what a disgrace!
Fuming, she demanded an explanation, but Sheng Xiangqiao only smiled sweetly and said Grandmother wished to see her, refusing to answer further.
Sheng Guiniang ordered the driver to stop, but he acted as though he hadn’t heard, lashing the horses into a whirlwind pace.
When they reached the Sheng estate, Sheng Guiniang had no choice but to alight. Her son, Cheng Tianfu, was already waiting at the gate, looking very much in league with the “kidnappers.”
Before she could speak, Cheng Tianfu helped her change shoes and led her in to see her grandmother.
Madam Qin had not expected her granddaughter to be so capable—so easily persuading that stubborn-headed aunt to return.
But when Sheng Guiniang, flushed with anger, complained that Sheng Xiangqiao had been rude and forced her into the carriage, the old lady impatiently waved her hand: “Enough of that. Tell me plainly—what trouble has befallen your Cheng household?”
Sheng Guiniang stammered, insisting there was nothing wrong.
The old lady, furious, flung the scripture she held against her daughter’s face: “Still hiding it from me, even now? Do you mean to wait until your Second Son holds a full-month banquet, and then have our Sheng family go deliver red eggs and gift packets?”
Sheng Guiniang never expected her mother already know. She was thrown into confusion. “Mother… how did you find out?”
Madam Qin, enraged, said: “Do you think the Cheng family’s walls are an iron fortress? What exactly is going on between the Chengs and that Tian woman? Speak!”
Seeing her mother so well-informed, Sheng Guiniang realized she must know the truth. Sourness welled up, and she wiped her tears as she poured out her grievances.
“The last time Cheng Peinian brought me home, only a few days later, he knelt before me. He admitted he had been careless—drinking heavily with that wretched Tian Peirong until he was insensibly drunk, and in that stupor committed a night’s mistake. Who would have thought Tian Peirong would secretly conceive and now use it to threaten him? If he does not raise her into the household with full honors, she will go cry before the Empress, claiming Cheng Peinian ruined her virtue and destroyed her chastity!”
At this point, Sheng Guiniang’s tears overflowed, and she sobbed aloud.
But her son, sitting nearby, seemed unconcerned with his father’s reputation. He added coolly: “Father must have told you that in his heart he only cherishes you. Even if Tian Peirong enters as a co-wife, in his eyes, the true wife will always be you.”
Sheng Guiniang stared at her son, speechless—for Cheng Peinian had indeed said exactly that. Words that once brought her to tears, when repeated in her son’s detached tone, suddenly sounded like hollow flattery meant to fool a simpleton. Yet being mocked by her own son left her unwilling to yield. After all, her endurance these days had been for Cheng Tianfu’s future!
Seeing her son about to flare up again, Sheng Guiniang checked her tears and said: “What do you understand! The Ministry of Personnel is under the Tian family’s sway. If we offend them, even if you place first in the exams, you’ll be left waiting on the cold bench as a mere alternate. For your sake, your mother will endure any hardship!” Her tears threatened to fall once more.
Through her painful sobs, she seemed to hear her son’s calm voice: “I’ve already submitted a memorial to the Supervisory Office, requesting to postpone my participation. I won’t sit for this year’s imperial examination.”
At that, both Sheng Guiniang and Madam Qin exclaimed together: “What!”
That night, His Majesty, who valued talent and showed compassion for poor scholars, reflected on the hardships they endured. Many who passed the county examinations had to travel long distances for the provincial exam, and finally the palace exam. Countless young men, after eating and sleeping rough along the way, fell ill upon reaching the capital.
Missing the imperial examination was a tragic waste of talent. Thus, out of imperial grace, since His Majesty’s accession there had been the institution of the *shun exam*. If a candidate could not sit for the regular examination, he could submit a petition for a deferred exam. Instead of waiting four years for the next imperial exam, he would be granted a supplementary exam the following year.
Yet this *shun exam* was more a gesture of benevolence than a true opportunity. The supplementary exam was far more difficult, and most failed. Even those who passed found few suitable posts awaiting them.
So many scholars preferred to wait four years rather than attempt the *shun exam*.
Cheng Tianfu, though he began his studies late, was gifted. His teachers all said that with diligence and composure, he had the makings of a *zhuangyuan*—first place in the palace exam.
The Cheng family placed boundless hopes on him. Yet now, without even informing his elders, he had submitted a petition to defer his exam! Was this not self-destruction?
Even Madam Qin had been kept in the dark. She slammed the table in fury, thinking the boy far too reckless.
But Cheng Tianfu remained calm, without a trace of regret, and said evenly: “Mother, you yourself said this year’s imperial exam is dominated by Tian family protégés. With Father’s scandal, whether Tian Peirong enters as wife or concubine, it will cause entanglements. The Tian family is arrogant—if we defy them, they may obstruct me in the exam. If we yield, and I succeed, outsiders will say it was only because you sacrificed yourself, that my success was bought with your suffering, not true talent. To bear the reputation of selling my mother for rank, of trading her for office, would make my career bitter, forever indebted to the Tian family. Better that I wait until our family affairs are settled, and then take the supplementary exam—it will not be too late.”
Sheng Guiniang had endured her husband’s disgrace mostly for her son’s future. Cheng Tianfu had been unruly as a child, only later settling down to study, and she had watched him toil late into the night with aching heart. At last, she had seen him rise with promise, only to have his future ruined by that Tian woman, submitting a petition for deferment.
Thinking of her son’s prospects blocked, Sheng Guiniang choked with anger, stamping her foot: “All because of that pair of shameless wretches! And now my poor son’s future is delayed!”