Guan Qi listened to his master’s words and found them reasonable.
After all, the salt‑seller’s daughter had risen high, now a proper official’s wife. If she did not recognize him, then there was no need to stir up trouble—better that the river and well remain apart, each at peace.
Yet when Guan Qi recalled how brazenly she had bullied his master in youth, he still felt indignant. Knowing his master’s nature, he would not forget. The question was whether that insolent girl might one day fall into his hands again.
Meanwhile, Situ Sheng did not hurry to leave. He was waiting for a carriage to take him to the neighboring county and stood at the street corner.
After a while, Chu Linlang came down from the tavern, leading a little girl with twin braids. Watching Chu Linlang tenderly wipe the child’s mouth, one could hardly imagine her former roughness. Truly, motherhood transforms a woman.
Guan Qi muttered to himself: “Is that her daughter? She looks much like her… But can she raise her well? Lord Zhou did not choose carefully. Aren’t scholars supposed to prize a woman’s virtue? Well, her beauty is enough to dazzle the eyes.”
Situ Sheng, annoyed by his chatter, cast him a cold glance, then strode off toward the carriage. Guan Qi, realizing too late, hurried after him.
As for Chu Linlang, she returned to the tavern, wiping her cold sweat. Upstairs, she found only her maid, Dongxue, with Yuan’er eating. Miss Yin, who had been weeping bitterly, had already paid and left.
It turned out that while Yin Xuefang was crying, Chu Linlang had excused herself and slipped away. Yin Xuefang waited, then sent her maid to look, only to find the latrine empty. She guessed she had offended Chu Linlang, who deliberately abandoned her, even leaving her daughter behind. Ashamed, she left in haste.
So when Yuan’er finished eating, Chu Linlang took her home.
But upon returning, her mother‑in‑law, Madam Zhao, slammed the table in anger: “Seven years you’ve been in our Zhou family, yet you’ve learned no refinement. Fang’er is such a gentle child, yet you took her out, and she returned with swollen eyes, alone. Is this how you treat people?”
Chu Linlang knew that explaining would only invite more trouble. Since she was already judged incapable of tolerance, she bowed her head and listened silently.
Her stubborn silence only made Madam Zhao more frustrated. Finally, she declared: “I have already agreed with Madam Liu. In a few days, Fang’er will enter our household. Since she joins the Zhou family, I must protect her. You must change your jealous nature. She is younger, you are older—why be so petty?”
Chu Linlang replied softly: “When I married into the Zhou family, Mother entrusted me with the household. At that time, we had nothing but two quilts. I used my private savings to buy chickens and ducks, then a few acres of land, and kept the household afloat. Later, when the land was taken, I exchanged it for a shop. Step by step, we built what we have today. Mother has always trusted me with household affairs. Why now, without a word, do you bypass me to bring in a concubine for Sui’an?”
She spoke truthfully. The Zhou family had indeed been that destitute.
Fortunately, she had saved a small banknote while helping her father’s business. She had sewn it into her clothes when she fled her natal home. With it, she bought servants and property, enabling Zhou Sui’an to study and win office.
Madam Zhao, though fierce in scolding, could not match the shrewdness of a merchant’s daughter in managing the household. Seeing the table now laden with more than coarse fare, she had let Chu Linlang have her way.
Now, asked why she had not consulted her daughter‑in‑law, Madam Zhao had no answer. But anger rose, suspecting Chu Linlang of flaunting her wealth and implying that the Zhou family depended on her. Her face darkened:
“What? Am I not mistress of this house until I’m in my coffin? You cannot bear children—what use is your silver? Shall I watch the Zhou line die out?”
Chu Linlang lowered her gaze: “Indeed, the matter of heirs troubles you. But as for Miss Yin… better not.”
Madam Zhao slammed the table: “How dare you! For jealousy alone, I could have Sui’an divorce you!”
Chu Linlang stepped forward, gently patting her mother‑in‑law’s back, speaking softly: “Mother, hear me out. I trust your judgment. Miss Yin is fine. But the problem is—she has an uncle in the capital.”
Madam Zhao’s eyes widened: “Is that not a blessing? Such ties would aid Sui’an greatly!”
Chu Linlang smiled faintly, though her tone remained respectful: “Mother, you are not in the capital, so you do not know the ways of the ministries. Yin’s uncle serves under Prince Kang in the military bureau. He is powerful. But now His Majesty has ordered the Sixth Prince to inspect the frontier, to root out corruption in military supplies—clearly aimed at Prince Kang’s bureau. You have heard how heads have rolled in neighboring counties, like autumn persimmons shaken from the tree. Who knows what storms may come in the capital? At such a time, how can you push Sui’an into such perilous ties?”
She spoke the truth. These were the very words the prefect’s wife had hinted to her earlier.
Yesterday, in her anger, she had quarreled bitterly with Zhou Sui’an. But once calm, she probed Miss Yin and learned of her uncle’s position. From the prefect’s wife’s subtle warning, she understood the danger. Thus, her words now were grounded and reasoned, not empty jealousy.
Madam Zhao, though she did not value her daughter‑in‑law, cared most about her son’s future. No matter how fine Yin Xuefang might be, she was not as important as Zhou Sui’an’s promising career.
Had not her late husband been ruined by entanglement with a close friend? Though Lord Zhou was not convicted, he lost his post, forfeited his fortune, and died in grief. Madam Zhao often woke in the night from dreams of those bitter days. Hearing Chu Linlang’s warning now, she broke into a cold sweat, leaning forward anxiously: “What you say… is it true?”
Chu Linlang lowered her voice: “Tomorrow the prefect’s wife is hosting a tea gathering. Mother may casually ask, and you will know…”
Madam Zhao’s face clouded, but no storm broke. She dismissed Chu Linlang, her heart heavy.
The next day, returning from the prefect’s residence, Madam Zhao’s attitude toward the Yin mother and daughter had changed. She sighed, saying her family was unfortunate, burdened with a jealous daughter‑in‑law who refused to accept Miss Yin. To force Yin Xuefang into the household would bring unease. Better that the two families remain friends, visiting often, even if they could not become kin.
Dongxue overheard this in the hall and hurried to tell Chu Linlang.
Chu Linlang, braiding Yuan’er’s hair, was unsurprised that her mother‑in‑law had shifted all blame onto her. She only said to Dongxue:
“Go tell the master that our honored guests may soon depart. Ask if he wishes to return to bid them farewell.”
Dongxue stared wide‑eyed. Her mistress was too generous—letting Zhou Sui’an personally escort his childhood companion!
But Chu Linlang did not explain, only urged: “Quickly, lest he linger at the yamen and miss the chance.”
Zhou Sui’an never expected his mother, after sparring with Chu Linlang, to change so swiftly. Since an old acquaintance was leaving, he, as host, ought to see her off.
Later, Chu Linlang heard that Miss Yin had wept bitterly at the farewell pavilion. Moved, Zhou Sui’an composed a long elegy of parting. But Madam Liu, displeased, scolded her daughter for disgrace and hurried her back to the carriage.
Zhou Sui’an, embarrassed by her rebuke, returned home in low spirits. Entering, he saw Chu Linlang at her needlework. Irritated, he sat silently, drinking tea. After a cup, he set it down, only to notice his wife had stopped sewing, gazing at him with narrowed eyes—sharp as knives, cutting into his hidden thoughts.
Uneasy, he asked: “What are you looking at?”
Chu Linlang turned her gaze, winding thread around her finger, unwilling to expose his gloom. She simply ordered Xia He to bring a cool fruit soup to ease his temper.
He drank, but his frustration remained. Raising his brows, he said: “From Mother, I hear you are close with the prefect’s wife. Ordinary courtesy is fine, but do not learn her crooked schemes!”
The prefect was notorious for keeping youthful concubines, and his wife was notorious for her ruthless methods. It was said that the clerk’s wife, who fed her husband lard, had learned it from her. Chu Linlang had once told Zhou Sui’an such tales in jest.
She believed in the wisdom of “a muddled couple is a happy couple.” Since Miss Yin had departed, she saw no need to quarrel further. She changed the subject: “If you want me to be like the prefect’s wife, then you must first sit in the prefect’s seat. Now the Sixth Prince is reforming the army. You, as magistrate, are at the critical gate. I advise you to focus on duty. If you remain ignorant, your career may end.”
Zhou Sui’an was startled that she knew of his interrogation by the prince. He frowned: “These are official matters. Do not pry. A woman meddling in politics—if you were a man, you would be more scheming than Zhang Xian!”
Chu Linlang laughed softly: “If I were a man, I would not be suited to study. I might never enter officialdom.”
She envied him—free to read and rise, while she was confined to the household, managing every detail to support him. If she were a man, she could do so much more.
Her words pleased Zhou Sui’an, for in scholarship she always admired him.
Then Chu Linlang remembered something. She opened a hidden compartment by the bed and drew out several papers—not forged accounts, but genuine records.
Her oil and grain shop served many household stewards, offering fair prices and building relationships. Over months, she had befriended an old clerk of the magistrate, paying dearly for lists of personnel and details of past handovers.
With these, Zhou Sui’an would not stumble blindly before the Sixth Prince. If he visited old contacts, learned of problems in military supply transfers, and wrote a proper memorial, Zhang Xian could present it in the capital as his performance record.
Chu Linlang had withheld them, unsure how to give them without offending his pride. If she handed them directly, he might feel insulted and retreat to his study.