She vaguely remembered that the madwoman later died of illness, but as for what became of the boy, Chu Linlang could no longer recall.
When she asked, Madam Sun thought for a moment and said, “After the child lost his mother, I think some relatives came to take him away. At that time, you were always running to that courtyard, and your father scolded you, but you wouldn’t listen!”
Chu Linlang indeed remembered only vaguely. She did recall pitying the boy once, secretly bringing him food a few times.
Unfortunately, he was ungrateful—once he even dumped a bowl of food onto her beautiful new dress. She cried bitterly and, in her anger, pinned him to the ground and gave him a good beating.
Looking back now, it was truly childish!
And now, all that youthful fury had long been ground to dust by time. Mother and daughter chatted endlessly, drifting from one topic to another.
Fearing that Chu Huaisheng might come looking for her again after finishing his pipe, Chu Linlang secretly slipped her mother some silver, then took her leave and returned home.
When she arrived, the old servant sweeping the courtyard told her that her husband had already come back. She hurried to her room to check.
There lay Zhou Sui’an, collapsed on the bed with his official robe still on, collar open.
Before she even reached the bed, the sour stench of stale wine hit her.
She changed into casual clothes, walked over, and touched his forehead: “How much did you drink? And the maids—how could they let you go to bed without changing?”
Zhou Sui’an’s pale cheeks were flushed. He frowned, half-opened his eyes, lifted his youthful chin stubbornly, and muttered: “I have a wife! Why would I need anyone else?”
Chu Linlang was used to his childishness in private, so she soothed him gently: “Yes, yes, you have a wife. Let me help you change.”
As he looked at her lowered brows and soft smile, with a faint blush on her cheeks, his heart stirred.
Though they had been married seven years, Chu Linlang’s beauty had not faded under household burdens. Instead, she bloomed even more radiantly than when they first met.
But the wine weighed heavily on him. Even with his heart aflame, his body was limp. Lazily, he grasped her hand and rested his head on her lap. Suddenly remembering the servant’s words that she had gone out that afternoon, he asked: “Where did you go?”
Chu Linlang knew she could not hide her father’s visit, so she told him.
At once, Zhou Sui’an sobered halfway, sitting up with a start, eyes wide: “He came here?!”
Moments ago, he had been a lazy cat drunk on wine; now he was a mouse caught under a paw, squeaking in fear. The person he most despised and dreaded in life was his vulgar, grasping father-in-law.
Back then, he had met Chu Linlang by chance, stunned by her beauty and moved by her tragic plight. In youthful impulse, he rescued her from a forced marriage. But such rash courage was not enough to withstand Chu Huaisheng’s endless meddling. At the height of the chaos, Zhou Sui’an even regretted his actions.
As his mother had once said: abducting a respectable woman to elope was scandalous! If the Chu family had raised a public uproar, his reputation would have been ruined, and how could he ever hope to pass the provincial exams?
Fortunately, Chu Linlang was resourceful and managed to settle matters so that peace was restored.
Afterward, he studied diligently—not only to bring honor to his family, but also because Chu Linlang had said: if he passed and was appointed to office elsewhere, they could move far away and escape her father’s interference.
That thought gave him even greater determination to endure hardship in his studies. In truth, his current success owed much to his father-in-law’s relentless pressure, which had driven him forward. But now, trouble that should have been far away suddenly appeared before him, and his drunken warmth turned to cold sweat.
Seeing his reaction, Chu Linlang felt a pang of sorrow.
She knew well how much her father had troubled her husband. As she helped him change into sleepwear, she comforted him: “We’ve been married seven years. His antics have lost their meaning. I’ll handle matters on that side. When he returns to Jiangkou, you just need to attend the farewell.”
Zhou Sui’an finally exhaled, muttering gloomily: “I advise you to keep your distance from your family. Your father is greedy and shameless! I’m burdened with official duties—I cannot deal with him!”
Realizing his words had embarrassed her, he quickly patted her back and added: “You’re right. I am no longer the ignorant youth I once was. I have no reason to fear him! If he dares trouble you… I’ll stand against him!”
These words finally brought a smile to Chu Linlang’s face. She coaxed her “ignorant youth” to lie down and sleep off the wine.
Zhou Sui’an, having drunk too much, soon fell asleep.
It was nearly dinnertime, but Chu Linlang could not rest. Feeling stifled, she slipped out to the small garden while his snores grew louder.
The late afternoon sun was sinking, the breeze unusually gentle, and tending the flowers was not chilly.
This residence was purchased after Zhou Sui’an’s appointment, at Chu Linlang’s own choice. Funds were tight, so the house was modest. It was neat, but not spacious. The garden was only palm-sized, with a small greenhouse built to hold flowers she had brought from the south.
Seeing the sun nearly gone, Chu Linlang uncovered the thatch roof of the greenhouse so the plants could bask in the last rays.
Unlike her, the flowers could not adapt easily. Born in the warm, moist south, they were delicate. Only thanks to her careful tending had they survived in this harsh land.
She entered the greenhouse, weeding while listening to Xia He, who had gathered news from Zhou Sui’an’s servant.
“The Sixth Prince was very pleased with our master’s report at the banquet. He praised him as insightful and talented. Master was delighted, so he drank a few extra cups.”
It seemed Chu Linlang’s inquiries had been useful—at least they had helped Zhou Sui’an preserve his reputation before the prince, avoiding charges of negligence.
Hearing Xia He’s words, Chu Linlang recalled her husband’s proud expression earlier. She realized she had spoiled his mood by mentioning her father’s visit. Then she thought of her mother-in-law urging her to arrange a concubine for Zhou Sui’an, and her heart grew heavy again.
But she consoled herself silently. They were no longer newlyweds—there was no need for endless romance. Better to hope for her husband’s steady rise in rank than for perfect harmony at home.
Zhou Sui’an had said he would eventually be promoted and leave this wretched place of Lianzhou. Then her flowers would no longer be confined to a shabby greenhouse, but could bloom freely under the sun. And perhaps, in a gentler climate, her own health might improve—like a divination promising two “goods” joined together.
Just as she was thinking this, someone came to report that His Highness the Sixth Prince’s tutor, Master Situ, had arrived to visit Lord Zhou.
The banquet had only just ended—why had Situ Sheng chased all the way to the residence? It must be that there were matters unfit for the wine table that required private discussion.
Chu Linlang grew uneasy, suspecting he had come to stir up trouble. After some thought, she told the servant: “The master is heavily drunk. Please ask Master Situ if he might come tomorrow instead.”
The servant turned to deliver the message, but before he even left the garden, Situ Sheng was already standing at the gate.
Chu Linlang looked up, and their eyes met.
The man wore the same half-new, half-old white robe and black cloak, yet his bearing was so refined that even such ordinary clothing carried an air of elegant grace.
One might easily mistake him for a frail scholar. The golden rays of the setting sun fell across his brows, making it hard for Chu Linlang to clearly see his expression.
The residence was small, and while waiting, Situ Sheng had wandered casually, turning a corner of the garden wall—just in time to overhear Chu Linlang’s words to the servant. So he simply stepped closer, sparing the servant the awkward task of turning him away.
Seeing him stand there so courteous and composed, Chu Linlang quickly rose from the greenhouse and offered a respectful bow.
Situ Sheng first inquired about Zhou Sui’an’s drunken state, then strolled to the greenhouse to look at the flowers Chu Linlang tended. Though he served the Sixth Prince and should have been busy with affairs, he seemed utterly at leisure, wandering about the tiny greenhouse, admiring the blossoms, lingering without any intention of leaving.
Chu Linlang could not read his intentions, nor could she directly dismiss him, so she asked: “Would Master Situ care to take a cup of tea in the hall?”
She expected him to decline, but to her surprise, he agreed readily, even gesturing for her to lead the way.
Since he was so unreserved, Chu Linlang had no choice but to invite him into the guest hall for a cup of light tea.
The distinguished guest spread his wide sleeves and sat down. As steam from the hot tea rose, the host and guest sat in awkward silence.
Chu Linlang was rarely at a loss in social settings, but facing this handsome man, speaking in the capital’s refined accent, and knowing he had once caught her in a moment of weakness, she truly did not know how to make small talk.
She recalled that he had refused her gift before, and suspected he feared gossip, so perhaps he had come personally to collect silver.
But just as she began to probe with a few words, Situ Sheng interrupted: “Didn’t Madam explain already—that it was merely a woman’s harmless practice writing? If so, why attempt to bribe me? Let us just swallow the matter and leave it at that.”
Swallow it? She had already swallowed it earnestly!
Chu Linlang had not expected him to treat the matter so lightly. Grateful, she wisely dropped the subject.
After weighing the situation, she decided to steer the conversation to trivial topics, letting the guest drink his tea in peace, and see if he would eventually take his leave.
Thinking this, Chu Linlang accepted a plate of chestnut cakes from her maid and asked with a smile: “Master Situ, in the prime of your youth, surely your lady must be of fine beauty—may I ask which family she hails from?”
Situ Sheng extended a long finger, picked out one cake with a slight crack, and said casually: “I have not yet taken a wife.”
This caught Chu Linlang off guard. Situ Sheng was strikingly handsome. Though not a high official, he lived in the wealthy capital, neither too high nor too low—how was it that he remained a bachelor?
Such a topic could have stretched endlessly, from wives to children, to the safe paths of childrearing, filling the time until the guest was satisfied.
But with just one sentence, Situ Sheng closed off the conversation entirely.