Zhou Sui’an finally spoke up, following Chu Linlang’s lead: “If there truly were idle posts, they wouldn’t remain vacant! Father-in-law, best to wait a while longer. At such a critical time, placing him there would harm the whole family.”
Chu Huaisheng was somewhat startled. Seeing his son-in-law give him a way out, he stopped pressing the matter. But then he turned to Madam Zhao with another scheme—he wanted to send his legitimate wife’s niece to Zhou Sui’an as a concubine.
This time Chu Linlang didn’t even need to intervene. Madam Zhao quickly cut in, her tone stiff, “What a coincidence—I’ve already spoken with a matchmaker. A good concubine has been chosen, the betrothal gifts exchanged, and she will enter the household in two days. Though Linlang is still young, I intended to allow her a few more years. But my health grows worse. Should I pass away suddenly, how could I face the ancestors of the Zhou family without leaving arrangements?”
Then she deliberately asked: “Linlang, you won’t resent me for deciding this on my own, will you?”
Chu Linlang looked up at her mother-in-law, saw the sharp gleam in her eyes, and realized Madam Zhao was not lying.
In recent days, Madam Zhao has been out often, returning late, and even moving some household silver. By raising the matter in front of Chu Huaisheng, she ensured Chu Linlang could not openly oppose her without seeming to invite the niece in.
Chu Linlang silently admired her mother-in-law. After years of sparring, Madam Zhao’s mind had grown sharper—finally showing some progress.
So, before her father, Chu Linlang said nothing. She only picked at dishes and drank her wine quietly.
Madam Zhao secretly breathed easier, feeling a touch of triumph.
But Zhou Sui’an thought his mother was only making excuses to appease his father-in-law. He hurriedly said: “Father-in-law’s kindness, I accept. But since Mother has already arranged matters, I cannot take concubines one after another. Affairs in Lianzhou are busy, and the household’s reputation must also be considered…”
Chu Huaisheng himself didn’t expect much from his wife’s scheme. He knew his third daughter’s temper—if truly forced to accept a niece, she would surely turn against him. He still relied on his son-in-law to support the family, so he dared not offend Chu Linlang too soon.
Women, he thought, were always petty—once they held a man, they believed he was entirely theirs. Only when age stole beauty and affection would they realize their mother’s wisdom: Zhou Sui’an, handsome and rising, would never keep a household quiet. Better to plant family allies early, to manage things smoothly.
But people only learn through suffering. He would wait until his daughter had eaten enough bitterness, then come begging her natal family for support.
After the feast, Chu Huaisheng left with the gifts and medicines his daughter and son-in-law had prepared, staggering to his carriage. He was here for business and could not linger long in Lianzhou. Since they had given him face, he would take his time exploiting them later.
Madam Sun, however, held her daughter’s hand anxiously, whispering:
“No matter the grievance, don’t quarrel with your mother-in-law…”
A barren daughter had no standing to fight her husband’s family. Even if she divorced over it, people would mock her as jealous and shrewish. And with her father a man who sold his daughters for profit, if Chu Linlang left the Zhou household, how could Chu Huaisheng treat her kindly?
Chu Linlang understood her mother’s fears. She patted her hand gently:
“Have you ever seen a wife die of grief just because her husband took a concubine? Don’t worry, Mother. I will manage my life well.”
Madam Sun was somewhat reassured.
As Chu Linlang expected, once the salt-merchant in-laws were gone, Madam Zhao confronted her and Zhou Sui’an: “My words were true. Matchmaker Li has already chosen a girl—the second daughter of Teacher Hu from the village school. Seventeen years old, literate, quiet, gentle, and fertile. I liked her very much, so I left betrothal gifts and silver, had the village head witness, and signed the papers. In two days, the Hu family will send her here.”
Only then did Zhou Sui’an realize his mother had acted entirely on her own. Shocked, he turned to Chu Linlang.
Such concubine dramas had happened before—Chu Linlang always ruined them, and his mother would cry, scream, and threaten suicide.
So whenever concubines were mentioned, Zhou Sui’an’s head throbbed, as if he were being roasted alive. He thought this time would be no different—Chu Linlang would quietly dismantle his mother’s plans.
But when the Hu girl’s sedan chair truly entered the gates, Zhou Sui’an was more astonished than Chu Linlang. He even asked her what he should do.
Chu Linlang, sitting cross-legged on the bed, threading a needle, didn’t even look up: “Your mother gave you a concubine, and now you ask me what to do? Should I go into the bridal chamber in your place?”
Zhou Sui’an thought she was sulking and sat helplessly nearby: “This wasn’t my doing. If you don’t want it, scatter it as before. Why force me to suffer in the middle?”
Chu Linlang lowered her eyes: “Last time with Miss Yin, the scandal spread far. Your colleagues joke that Lord Zhou’s ears are as soft as rotten mud. I don’t mind being called a jealous wife—but you, a prefectural magistrate, becoming a laughingstock? Where is your dignity as a man?”
Zhou Sui’an had never heard Chu Linlang speak so reasonably. He was stunned, but before he could ask further, Madam Zhao’s maid arrived, urging him to drink with the new bride.
Without Chu Linlang’s shield, Zhou Sui’an could not openly defy his mother. That night, he did not return. Madam Zhao even stationed servants at the door, fearing Linlang might storm in.
Chu Linlang went to bed early. Her maid Xia He watched her carefully, but seeing her calm and untroubled, finally felt reassured.
In the middle of the night, Chu Linlang—who had lain still without turning—suddenly sat up, slipped on her shoes, opened the window, and scooped two handfuls of snow into her mouth.
This time, without Xia He to stop her, she ate to her heart’s content. But the night wind was bitterly cold, and after a while she shivered uncontrollably. When she closed the window and returned to bed, the warmth of the quilt had already faded. Covered in frost, she lay alone on the wide bed and gave a self-mocking smile.
She truly had no grounds to oppose, but Zhou Sui’an could have stood against his mother, shielding her!
What was she still hoping for? That Zhou Sui’an would defy his mother and send the concubine away? Or that he would neglect the new concubine and return to her room at midnight?
In the past, Chu Linlang had always imagined her husband too well. Now she had to admit the truth: Zhou Sui’an was no paragon of virtue.
If he could resist women, why had Yuan’er been born? How could a salt-merchant’s daughter like her have eloped with him back then, pledging lifelong love? And why would Zhou Sui’an so openly compose poems by the lake with the newly widowed Miss Yin?
Chu Linlang sneezed twice, finally understanding.
As her mother had said, an obsession too deep leads to madness. She could not become like that madwoman from her hometown, cursing a faithless man in the streets all day. Her thoughts drifted, recalling that madwoman, stirring what little memory remained.
The woman’s fate was bitter, but she had a devoted son. Though harsh in temper, he cared for his mother meticulously, ensuring she always had clean clothes. Yet the boy disliked Chu Linlang, had insulted her, and once dirtied her new dress.
Chu Linlang was not one to be bullied. Catching him at the river washing clothes, she kicked him in. Only afterward did she realize he could not swim, and she had to drag him out.
The brat was vicious—he bit her arm and tried to push her head underwater, desperate for mutual destruction. Had nearby washerwomen not pulled them out, they might have drowned together.
Chu Linlang remembered it only because it nearly cost lives, and her father beat her severely afterward. From then on, whenever she saw the boy, her hands itched to throw him into a cesspit.
Unwilling to dwell on bitter memories, Chu Linlang turned over again. She never liked brooding—better to think of ways to improve her life.
Madam He, the Prefect’s wife, had once said: being an official’s wife was like being the manager of a prosperous shop. Since the master trusted her to oversee household wealth, she should focus on profit, not on fanciful dreams of sharing equal wings with her husband.
A concubine in the household was like hiring another clerk. No shopkeeper ever wasted away simply because a new clerk arrived.
So Chu Linlang’s mind filled with daily matters—she must rise early tomorrow for Madam He’s birthday banquet.
All the notable ladies of the prefecture would be there. She planned to bring extra food boxes to add to the festivity and promote her soon-to-open tavern.
Meanwhile, the official salt license she had secretly obtained years ago was nearing expiration. Back then, helping her father’s business, she had quietly secured it. With the license, she could hire ships to transport salt north—a tidy profit.
When Zhou Sui’an entered officialdom, she had reluctantly handed the license to Xia He’s brother to manage, offsetting expenses. Now, with the license expiring this year, she had intended not to renew. But suddenly she wished to continue.
Even Zhou Sui’an knew nothing of this business. She thought: one must always keep a retreat. At last her body warmed, and sleep overcame her. Though she had expected a sleepless night, she fell into deep slumber.
By morning, she could not rise early. Perhaps from indulging in the cold, she woke with a pounding headache. Even when the new concubine came to serve her tea, she could not lift her hand to take it.
Madam Zhao looked more haggard than Chu Linlang, with dark circles under her eyes. She had battled her daughter-in-law too fiercely, always fearing Chu Linlang’s hidden tricks.
Thus, when the Hu girl entered the household, Madam Zhao treated it like a war, waiting for Chu Linlang’s counterattack. But the blow never fell, and the suspense tormented her.
The previous night, Madam Zhao had ordered servants to guard her son at the concubine’s chamber, while she herself lay dressed, ready to rush out if Chu Linlang caused a scene. She spent the night sleepless, rising at every sound in the courtyard. Age was catching up—she could hardly endure.
Now, at last, she felt relief, and sneered: “Guiniang offers you tea—why don’t you accept?”
Chu Linlang raised her eyes to see the timid girl kneeling below.
No wonder Hu Guiniang had won Madam Zhao’s favor—her delicate, pitiful look resembled Miss Yin, soft as a willow by the lake. Clearly, her mother-in-law believed her son liked scholarly, gentle girls, and sought more of the same.
Chu Linlang glanced at the new concubine, then took the tea. Her throat was sore and dry, so she drank it all down in gulps.
Guiniang was stunned—wasn’t this ceremonial tea meant to be sipped? How could the mistress drink it like water?
Madam Zhao watched, thinking her daughter-in-law was swallowing vinegar, not tea. Having finally succeeded in installing a concubine, she felt triumphant and said with rare ease: “Enough. I know you feel wronged, but Suian has indulged you for years. As the principal wife, you must show tolerance. Our household is small—we cannot allow jealous wives to persecute good concubines.”
Hearing this, the concubine shrank back timidly. She had heard rumors that the Zhou mistress was jealous, driving away girls her mother-in-law favored.
But seeing Chu Linlang now, she felt ashamed. How could such a beautiful woman exist? Black hair, snow-white skin, slender brows, and eyes alive with spirit. If not for her infertility, she would never have been chosen over such a lady.
Chu Linlang glanced at the sun outside. She could not delay further. Casually responding to her mother-in-law, she ordered Xia He to give Guiniang a pair of silver bracelets, then excused herself and left.
At the Prefect’s residence, she arrived late. Madam Lin led the teasing, demanding she drink as punishment.
It was the first time since Zhou Sui’an and Zhang Xian’s brawl that all the officials’ wives had gathered. Yet, surprisingly, the two households’ ladies—who should have been enemies—now appeared like old friends, leaving many onlookers bewildered.