The Situ family had served in the military for generations—leading troops in battle and defending the borders, every member known for their bravery and fierce temperament. Situ Yang’s father, Situ Wuyi, had been the commander of the Northwestern Army, deeply trusted by the emperor and highly favored.
Now, with the realm at peace, the borders secure, and the threats in the northwest long eliminated, the emperor recalled Situ Wuyi to the capital, granting him the title of Left Commander, to assist the imperial guards directly under the emperor’s command.
In the capital, there were twenty-six garrisons, and Situ Wuyi oversaw nine of them.
Though his career was smooth, his household was full of trouble. His legitimate wife, Lady Chen, eldest daughter of the Duke of Yong, was also from a military family, strong-willed and sharp-tempered, and firmly controlled the general’s household. All of the concubines and courtesans that Situ Wuyi had kept before his marriage were sent away by her.
Thus, the relationship between husband and wife was far from harmonious.
Situ Yang was the second son of Situ Wuyi, born to a concubine during one of Wuyi’s rotations with the army at a garrison. When he returned to the capital, Situ Wuyi intended to bring mother and son to live in the general’s mansion, but Lady Chen, enraged, refused and, leveraging her connections to the Duke of Yong, forced Situ Wuyi to give up the idea, leaving mother and son to live in the countryside.
Growing up in the countryside, Situ Yang developed rough and uncouth habits. The elder family members, having benefited from Lady Chen’s influence, indulged him and offered no guidance—no lessons in etiquette, rules, or learning.
Situ Wuyi, busy with military affairs, rarely thought of him and seldom remembered he even had this son.
His mother, a modestly attractive woman of limited means, had little foresight and only relied on the fact that she had borne the general a son to claim benefits. Living in the countryside, she saw the general only once every few years, grew resentful, and vented her frustration on Situ Yang.
With a father who did not care, a mother who did not love, and no one to discipline him, Situ Yang’s childhood was miserable.
Years later, Lady Chen’s eldest son, Situ Ji, was meant to inherit his father’s position, but he died tragically in a horse-riding accident, leaving only a young daughter. Grief-stricken and without alternatives, Lady Chen reluctantly agreed to bring the countryside-raised Situ Yang back to the general’s mansion.
By the time Situ Yang returned, he was already fourteen. His character was largely set and difficult to reform. At the most rebellious age, alternating between wealth and poverty, with the stepmother occasionally obstructing him, Situ Yang found life in the capital’s general household frustrating. He indulged himself in food, drink, and pleasure, neglecting responsibilities.
He gained the reputation of a hopeless “playboy.”
By the time he reached the age to be married, no respectable family in the capital would consider giving their daughter to him. A husband of no achievement, a domineering and violent stepmother—what noble daughter would want to marry into such a mess?
Some sycophants, hoping to curry favor with the general’s household, still offered their daughters. But Situ Yang refused: “They’re all housebound girls, playing with needles and threads. So boring—I won’t marry them.”
Word spread, and no one came after that.
Because of Situ Yang’s indolence, Situ Wuyi and Lady Chen, ironically, grew more aligned. Lady Chen, no longer able to have children due to age, stopped being obstinate and arranged for a distant cousin from the Duke of Yong household to be taken as Situ Yang’s concubine.
Now, the young concubine was heavily pregnant. Once she gave birth to a son, Situ Yang would be even more disrespected in the household.
…
Situ Yang’s family background was something Pei Shaohuai had heard about in bits and pieces. He agreed with his mother that, given the complex family situation, Situ Yang was not a suitable match.
“He might just be interested for a moment. Once he faces a setback with our second sister, he won’t come back,” Pei Shaohuai reassured Lady Lin. “Mother needn’t worry. Knowing our second sister, she would never take a liking to Situ Yang.”
“Look at me—always worrying about this and that,” Lady Lin said awkwardly, changing the subject. “It’s Cold Dew today, so I had Madam Shen make a nourishing mutton stew. Eat more of it—it’s warming and restorative.”
In the afternoon, Miss Ying came to Pei Shaohuai’s courtyard and asked, “Brother, have you picked up the newly printed Compendium of Materia Medica from the South City Bookstore for me?” Pei Shaohuai had promised her earlier.
“Changzhou just left. He should be back in about half an hour,” Pei Shaohuai replied. “Sister, you might as well play a game of chess with me while you wait.”
“All right.”
They played a game, alternating moves, and Pei Shaohuai, as expected, won.
“Next time I’ll bring Sister Zhu to challenge you,” Miss Ying muttered.
By the time the game ended, Changzhou returned, carrying a pile of books. Pei Shaohuai picked out his own, and Miss Ying received the Compendium of Materia Medica. There was also an extra set—The Book of Songs—beautifully boxed, with exquisite paper and illustrations.
Pei Shaohuai asked Changzhou about it. Changzhou explained that it was custom-ordered by Miss Lan from the South City Bookstore, and he had brought it back to save her an extra trip.
Pei Shaohuai knew Lan was fond of ornate and elegant things, so it made sense. He intended to have it delivered quickly. At that moment, Lan’s maid Biyu arrived.
The maid explained that Miss Lan had ordered a set of books and sent someone to collect them, but the shopkeeper had Changzhou bring them first.
Pei Shaohuai noticed Lan’s unusual attachment to this set and realized it likely contained something she valued greatly. Thinking of her previous experiences with that scoundrel scholar, he shivered—he feared the books were related to him.
He decided to investigate quietly that night at the theater.
After dinner, Miss Lan went to the theater first. Pei Shaohuai told Lady Lin he wanted to see the new play.
“You never enjoy the theater,” Lady Lin remarked.
“I’m tired of reading. I need a distraction,” he replied.
She arranged for attendants to follow him discreetly.
At the theater, it wasn’t crowded. Pei Shaohuai watched Lan from a private box. The play proceeded normally, and Lan listened quietly with her two maids. Pei Shaohuai wondered if he had been overthinking.
Later, during the climax, Lan suddenly left her box through the back door. Pei Shaohuai followed.
The back garden was dim, with lanterns barely lighting the path. Lan waited by the railing, looking expectantly toward the garden’s back gate.
A young scholar in white appeared, carrying something. They spoke quietly, exchanging words of affection, but nothing more. Lan eventually received a letter from him, blushing and shy, then hurried back inside.
Pei Shaohuai realized this had escalated. He worried about retrieving the handkerchief she had given him, fearing the scholar might leverage it against Lan’s family.
As the scholar prepared to leave, a black figure leapt from the shadows, grabbing him and beating him until his face was bruised and swollen, recovering Lan’s handkerchief and several others he had taken from different households. Pei Shaohuai recognized the rough voice—he had witnessed it all from the shadows.
Back inside the theater, Changzhou was worried but relieved to see Pei Shaohuai safe.
At home, Pei Shaohuai approached his mother, Lady Lin, and urged her to seal the Earl’s estate. He explained that his second sister, on returning from the theater, had been attacked in a secluded area. Lady Lin, seeing the urgency, immediately acted—sealing the estate, isolating Lan and her attendants, and closely monitoring her.
They found letters and a book hidden in The Book of Songs: Spring Garden by Wu Langzi, containing flowery expressions of love and marriage proposals. Lady Lin realized Lan had been easily swayed by the scholar’s words.
She contacted the family elders and had Pei Bingyuan return from the National Academy. The family was furious, but Lady Lin calmed them, promising to investigate the scholar before confronting Lan.
Two days later, a peasant woman sent to gather information returned. Blindfolded, she admitted to having a secret relationship with Wu Langzi and being deceived about his intentions. Lady Lin compensated her and dismissed her.
Meanwhile, Lan sat tied in a chair, pale and hollow-eyed. Lady Lin confronted her, scolding her for being reckless and ungrateful, contrasting her behavior with that of her elder sister, who had recently given birth safely.
Lan’s eyes welled with the realization of her selfishness, though she had only wanted a devoted husband.
Two days later, Lady Lin’s investigators returned. She brought a blindfolded village woman before Lan, confirming the woman’s account and ensuring compensation. Lan remained tied, silent, and shocked.
Lady Lin said calmly, “If you think I intentionally brought someone to deceive you, then that is your choice. I am your stepmother, and I have already done enough for you.”
Lan could only mutter: “Liu Jiao Jiao… Liu Jiao Jiao…”
Lady Lin’s face turned pale.
“…This matter… Liu Jiao Jiao knows about it too…”