“Your Highness, this… this is against propriety! I’ve never heard of such a thing before. What does this make of our Duke’s household? Are we so poor that we can’t even keep two people?”
“Reason may say one thing,” Lin Zhuo replied with a faint, arrogant smile, “but sentiment says another. Whether the Duke’s household keeps them or not is irrelevant. They are the princess’s stepmother and younger brother. If I take them in, it will let the princess see them often, free of longing and worry. Surely, Madam wouldn’t deny me this small favor?”
“This… But by that logic, every married daughter misses her parents—should they all move into their husbands’ homes? There’s no such precedent.”
Madam Chang absolutely refused to agree. In truth, she had been planning to quietly “deal with” that mother and son within a year or so—perhaps spare Ruan Jian’s life if he stayed docile and simple-minded, but otherwise, she feared he would one day become a problem.
“Other daughters can’t do this because their husbands wouldn’t allow it,” Lin Zhuo continued calmly. “But if the husband agrees, then why not? Isn’t it a fine thing for a family to reunite from time to time and enjoy domestic happiness?”
His tone remained light, but his gaze was sharp as a blade. The quiet authority beneath his smile was overwhelming, leaving Madam Chang speechless.
“Actually… actually, my mother and Jian’er… they’re doing quite well in the manor,” Ruan Mianmian finally spoke up timidly.
Lin Zhuo turned toward her with a gentle smile. “Weren’t you just telling me the other night, tears in your eyes, how you missed your mother and brother, how you regretted that life in the prince’s residence was so deep and lonely you could hardly see them again?”
Ruan Mianmian cast a panicked glance at Madam Chang, then quickly looked down and stammered, “I… I was just talking casually, actually…”
“Enough,” Lin Zhuo said, his tone soft but resolute. “Let me decide. As your husband, I’m often busy with state affairs and may not always attend to you properly. In the future, if you ever feel lonely, you can have your stepmother and younger brother stay for a few days to keep you company.”
His voice was warm, his expression affectionate—the very picture of indulgence. Two young girls seated below, who had been sneaking glances at him all along, now exchanged looks of envy and resentment. One of them, smiling sweetly, said, “Your Highness treats my sister far too well. You mustn’t spoil her so much, or she’ll become too proud.”
“Yue’er,” Madam Chang snapped sharply, glaring at her daughter.
Ruan Xinyue lowered her head and muttered, “I was only joking. His Highness is my brother-in-law, after all. He loves my sister so much—surely he won’t take offense.”
“Indeed, His Highness’s affection for Mianmian is deep,” Old Madam Hu interjected with a laugh. “Very well, though this breaks with convention, we’ll honor His Highness’s kind intention. Let Yunniang and Jian’er pack up—His Highness may send for them in a few days.”
“Yunniang perhaps, but Jian’er is a son of our Duke’s line—he still needs to attend school. How can he live under another household?” Madam Chang protested anxiously.
“What’s so difficult about schooling?” Lin Zhuo said indifferently. “I can hire a tutor for him myself. I wouldn’t make such a request of any other child from the Duke’s family, but this boy is different. He was born into this house yet hardly lived here at all. Clearly, he’s more suited to the countryside life. When he’s grown, I’ll bring him to the prince’s residence and have him accompany me in my duties. Do you think he’ll fail to make something of himself?”
Madam Chang turned helplessly toward the old matriarch. Lin Zhuo’s move had caught her completely off guard, and with the Duke stationed on the frontier for the entire past year, she had no one to turn to for support.
“Jian’er has always lived with his mother,” Old Madam Hu said after a pause. “It wouldn’t be proper to separate them. Very well—let him stay with His Highness for now. When he turns fifteen, he may return.”
Her decision was final. Madam Chang’s shoulders slumped in defeat.
“Many thanks to Old Madam for granting this,” Lin Zhuo said, rising to give a respectful bow. Then he turned to Madam Chang. “I’m used to martial training, not afraid of catching any illness. Since the meal hasn’t started yet, I’ll accompany the princess to visit her stepmother in the rear courtyard.”
“Ah? Well—um—this…”
Madam Chang stood up hurriedly, but Lin Zhuo was already leading Ruan Mianmian out by the hand—an unstoppable force. With no choice left, she signaled one of her attendants.
“Lead His Highness and Her Highness to the sickroom,” she instructed quietly. “Let them take a quick look and return at once. We wouldn’t want them catching anything—and remind them the luncheon will start soon.”
Once the couple had left, Madam Chang dismissed the others and turned to the old matriarch in alarm. “This won’t do, Old Madam! If that mother and son leave, who knows whether Her Highness will still acknowledge the Duke’s house at all?”
“You think she can afford not to?” Old Madam Hu replied coolly. “You think she can stand firm in the palace without her mother’s family behind her? Impossible.”
She leaned back against her pillow and continued, voice low and steady. “Besides, this may not even be Mianmian’s idea. Didn’t you see how flustered she looked? With Prince Xiang’s shrewdness, it’s perfectly natural he’d do such a thing. After all, the Empress may be his aunt, but she isn’t his mother. Depending on her while guarding against her—it’s only human nature.”
Madam Chang still looked dissatisfied, but since even the old matriarch had spoken, she had no choice but to drop the matter.
The luncheon was lively and grand. Though the Duke himself was away at the frontier, the family was large and bustling. Lin Zhuo, satisfied with how things had gone, drank a few more cups than usual.
When Madam Chang heard he was slightly tipsy, she ordered servants to escort him and Ruan Mianmian to a prepared guest courtyard to rest.
Lin Zhuo lay back on the couch while Ruan Mianmian paced the room, peeking out the door one moment and out the window the next—like a sparrow trapped indoors. He couldn’t help but chuckle and said, “Everything’s settled. Can you finally calm down?”
“I’m happy because it’s settled!”
She bounced over cheerfully and began to pound his legs with exaggerated diligence. “Your Highness, when will you send someone to fetch my mother and brother? Time is precious—better do it tomorrow, yes?”
“‘Time is precious,’ is it? Do you even know what that means?” Lin Zhuo gave her a look. “You’re a princess now—try to show some grace and learning.”
“‘A woman without talent is virtuous,’ isn’t that what you men came up with?” Ruan Mianmian teased. “Parents and elders say it all the time. Because of that, so many bright girls end up illiterate.”
“It’s just a saying,” Lin Zhuo countered. “In truth, how many noble families don’t educate their daughters? And even if their parents are foolish, can’t a clever girl secretly study on her own?”
Ruan Mianmian thought of Lin Daiyu and Baochai before Jia Mu and had to admit he had a point.
“Enough with the leg pounding,” he said finally. “You’re pressing so hard, anyone would think you’re trying to break my legs.”
He caught her small hand and looked at her helplessly. She stuck out her tongue. “Sorry, I got distracted and didn’t notice my strength.”
“You’ve got quite the strength,” he said with amusement. Since she was in such good spirits, he didn’t mind chatting idly.
“I was never a delicate young lady,” she said with pride. “Did you forget? I grew up working the fields. I was practically another laborer at home. Come autumn, when we carried the grain down the mountains, I wasn’t any worse than the boys.”
“No wonder you understood me so well when I spoke of Jiangnan switching from grain to mulberry,” Lin Zhuo said, nodding. “You’ve known hardship yourself.”
He shifted his posture and closed his eyes. “But I advise you to rest now—save your energy. The Duchess will surely question you later. After my sudden request today, she won’t stop wondering what you’re plotting.”
(End of Chapter)