A tall figure approached—it was Marquis Pingxi, Jiang Zhen, the true master of the Marquis Pingxi household.
Jiang Wenzhou hurried forward, bowing, his voice full of grievance: “Father, you don’t know how vile she is; she…”
He was famed in the capital as a refined young gentleman, praised for his elegance. Yet now, agitated and furious, all his composure was gone.
A flicker of disappointment crossed the Marquis’s eyes. His son usually seemed steady, but when faced with trouble, his flaws showed—too impatient, lacking restraint, still in need of tempering.
“Silence. Marriage is no trifling matter. The three letters and six rites are already complete. She is your wife. You must respect her and cherish her.”
(The three letters: the betrothal letter, the gift letter, and the wedding letter. The six rites: proposal, name consultation, divination, betrothal gifts, setting the date, and welcoming the bride.)
Even without the wedding ceremony yet, the union was already sealed—recognized by ritual and by society.
Yun Zheng knew well: the Marquis’s upright façade was nothing but a mask. In truth, he was the schemer behind it all—an old fox, sly and calculating. He would stop at nothing to drag her into the household, using her dowry to patch the family’s debts and secure their wealth and glory. And how could a commoner fight against power, or the poor against the rich? She could not win.
Jiang Wenzhou, the second son of the household, had become heir after his elder brother’s death. Pampered and adored, he was proud and arrogant—how could he stomach such humiliation?
The Marquis saw his son’s defiant expression, frowned, and shot him a cold glare. Then he turned, smiling kindly: “Zheng’er, let me apologize on Wenzhou’s behalf. He is young and hot-blooded, but not malicious. Just last night he was eagerly awaiting the joy of welcoming you into our home.”
As an elder, he was offering her face—anyone else would have been flattered.
But Yun Zheng was unmoved. Ten years of torment had taught her exactly what kind of man he was: greedy, ruthless, unscrupulous. Her mind raced, though her face remained calm. Her bright eyes turned to Jiang Wenzhou, tinged with doubt. “Is that so?”
Jiang Wenzhou bristled, unable to swallow the insult. The Marquis barked softly: “Wenzhou.”
The warning in his father’s tone made Jiang Wenzhou’s heart jolt. He forced down his anger, bowed stiffly, and said: “It was a moment’s impulse. Please forgive me this once. I promise I will treat you well.”
His words seemed polite, but carried arrogance and reluctance.
The Marquis’s smile grew warmer. “Zheng’er, are you appeased now? If not, I’ll have Wenzhou kneel and beg your pardon.”
Jiang Wenzhou made as if to kneel. Father and son, acting in concert, boxed Yun Zheng in. After all, what husband kneels to his wife? That would overturn the natural order.
No matter how many faults the Pingxi Marquis household had, this farce shifted all blame onto Yun Zheng—painting her as unreasonable, unable to see the bigger picture.
Yun Zheng’s eyes narrowed slightly—this was a trap for her. “The Marquis must be joking. A man’s knees are as precious as gold; they kneel only to Heaven, Earth, the sovereign, and the ancestors. How could they kneel to a mere woman?”
Her tact pleased Marquis Pingxi, though inwardly he felt a trace of contempt.
A bride who caused such commotion before even entering the household—was she trying to control her husband’s family? Foolish. A merchant’s daughter was bound to be short-sighted.
Still, his words were honeyed: “Good. I knew you were the most understanding of greater principles. To marry you is truly the fortune of the Pingxi Marquis household.”
“Wenzhou, lead your wife inside. Begin the wedding ceremony.”
Jiang Wenzhou, already seething, saw Yun Zheng yield and assumed she was afraid. He suddenly called out: “Wait.”
He strode to another bridal sedan, lifted the curtain, and under the gaze of all present, drew forth a beautiful young woman. She was delicate and fragile, pitifully charming, with innocent doe-like eyes that stirred protective instincts.
Clad in a scarlet wedding gown, standing beside Jiang Wenzhou, she looked the perfect match.
Jiang Wenzhou declared loudly: “This is my wife, Ye Yizhen.”
Ye Yizhen smiled softly, graceful and gentle. She and Jiang Wenzhou exchanged a look of mutual affection, drawing envy from the crowd.
Rage brewed in Yun Zheng’s eyes—exactly the same as in her past life! The same pair of shameless lovers!
The scene erupted in shock. Someone blurted out: “What do you mean? You want to wed a wife and take a concubine at the same time? A concubine cannot wear a red bridal gown!”
Jiang Wenzhou lifted his chin proudly and gazed at the woman with deep affection. How could he ever wrong the one he loved?
“Everyone, today is not only my wedding—it is also the day I continue the family line for two branches. I marry on behalf of my late elder brother, a joyous occasion indeed.”
“As you all know, when my brother passed, he had not yet wed, nor left heirs. The elders of our family have long been troubled. Thus, I take on the duty of marrying for him, to continue his line.”
The guests exchanged uneasy looks. Such a practice—marrying in place of a deceased brother—was not unheard of, but to spring it suddenly without prior notice was sheer bullying.
And who was this Ye Yizhen? Which family’s daughter? Why had no one heard of her before?
Jiang Wenzhou turned his malice toward Yun Zheng: “Miss Yun, you are known for your sense of duty. Surely you can understand and support this, can’t you?”
Faced with this upheaval, Yun Zheng’s expression did not change. “I can understand…”
Jiang Wenzhou felt triumphant. No matter how defiant she seemed, once Yun Zheng entered the gates of the Pingxi household, she would have to obey. If he told her to face east, she could not face west. If he commanded her to give birth, she must give birth; if he decreed her death, she must die. He was the one who held dominion over her life and death.
“Excellent. From now on, you two are sisters-in-law. The eldest sister-in-law is like a mother—you must take good care of Zhenzhen and never let her suffer the slightest grievance.”
Ye Yizhen smiled gently, bowing to Yun Zheng. “I thank elder sister-in-law in advance.”
With their words, they publicly fixed her status. In their eyes, Yun Zheng was nothing more than a stepping stone—bringing vast wealth for them to squander. Worse, they found her presence bothersome and took pleasure in tormenting her.
Yun Zheng gazed deeply at the pair of shameless lovers. One was ruthless, the other malicious and cold-hearted. Truly, they were a perfect match. In her past life, they had made her life worse than death. In this life, she would make them pay in blood.
Her lips curved into a faint smile. Suddenly, she spoke: “Heir, no matter how much you resent your parents, you cannot publicly curse them to die. Such callousness is truly shocking.”
Her words cracked like thunder across the crowd. Father and son of the Marquis Pingxi household both turned pale. Jiang Wenzhou panicked:
“What nonsense are you spouting?”
Yun Zheng frowned slightly, looking at him as though he were deranged.
“Your parents are still alive—how can you claim ‘the eldest sister-in-law is like a mother’? Only when your mother passes would the eldest sister-in-law have the right to assume that role. Heir, your conduct is disgraceful.”
Jiang Wenzhou’s face darkened, unable to find a retort. “I…”
Ye Yizhen’s eyes flickered. “Sister-in-law, my husband is clumsy with words. I apologize on his behalf. In the future, we as husband and wife will rely on your guidance.”
Though she appeared gentle as water, from the start she was staking her claim—calling Yun Zheng “sister-in-law” in a way that was nauseating. She seized all the advantage, then pretended humility.
Yun Zheng looked her up and down as if appraising merchandise, her gaze full of disdain. “Which family’s daughter are you? Do you have a marriage contract?”
Ye Yizhen seethed inside. How dare this woman look at her that way? Who did she think she was? If not for her money, she would never have set foot in the Marquis household.
“Of course I do.” She extended a delicate hand, and her maid presented a marriage contract.
Yun Zheng opened it, and instead of anger, a smile spread across her face.
Ye Yizhen’s heart tightened—she felt a bad premonition.
Yun Zheng turned her gaze toward the crowd, fixing on one particular guest.
“Lord Qin, you are the Vice Minister of Rites. May I ask, according to the laws of Great Qi, how many wives may a man take?”
The man addressed, Lord Qin, answered without hesitation: “By the laws of this dynasty, only one.”
Yun Zheng drew out a marriage contract from her sleeve and handed it over along with Ye Yizhen’s contract.
“Please look. This one is the marriage contract between myself and the heir, dated one year ago. And this one—between Miss Ye and the same heir—is dated six months ago.”
Her red lips pressed together as she hurled a bombshell: “The Pingxi household has openly defied the laws of Great Qi, treating imperial law as nothing. Is this rebellion, or do they simply hold the Emperor in contempt?”
Like thunder, her words shook the crowd—faces changed everywhere.
Not far away, a plain carriage rolled slowly past, escorted by several riders. A gust of wind stirred the curtain, revealing within a noble, striking man. His hair was bound with a jade hairpin, his black eyes sharp and penetrating. Clad in ink-black robes, he radiated an aura of cold authority. “Stop. Go and investigate.”
The carriage halted at once. His attendant bowed low. “Yes, Your Excellency.”
At that moment, none could have imagined that something even more shocking was about to unfold.