At the Pingxi household, the wedding hall was decorated in festive splendor; guests filled the room—but the atmosphere was stiff and strained.
The Marquis’s heir stood between two women, each in a scarlet bridal gown, their expressions starkly different.
Ye Yizhen gazed weakly at Jiang Wenzhou, pitiful and fragile, while he kept sending her reassuring looks.
Yun Zheng, on the other hand, stood expressionless, devoid of any joy.
The officiating master of ceremonies glanced nervously, then raised his voice: “The auspicious hour has arrived. Begin the wedding rites…”
Before he could finish, Jiang Wenzhou suddenly interrupted: “Wait. Order must be observed. I will first marry Yizhen on behalf of my elder brother.”
He only wished to wed the woman he loved and stand before the guests to receive their blessings. As for Yun Zheng—she was nothing but a burden forced upon him. If not for her wealth, how could she ever stand before him?
Ye Yizhen’s eyes lit up, joy spilling forth. She said sweetly: “Then it will be a grievance for Sister Yun Zheng.”
Jiang Wenzhou looked at Yun Zheng with malice. “Of course. As a younger sister-in-law, she should yield in all things, always putting her elder sister-in-law first. That is proper etiquette.”
The pair sought every chance to press Yun Zheng down, eager to trample her beneath their feet. He deliberately forced her: “Yun Zheng, what do you say?”
The hall fell silent. All eyes turned to the beautiful young woman—pitiful indeed.
If Yun Zheng yielded now, she would never raise her head again. She would become society’s laughingstock, forever manipulated by the Marquis household. One step back would mean endless retreat. But retreat meant only death.
Yun Zheng’s expression remained calm, yet her words were shocking, defiant: “I only want to know—if you marry on behalf of your elder brother, then… do you sleep with your sister-in-law?”
Her words tore apart the Marquis household’s facade, dragging the pair into a whirlpool of moral scandal. The hall erupted in uproar, buzzing with shock.
There are two ways to carry out *jiāntiāo* (marrying on behalf of a deceased elder brother). The first: marry the bride in as a ceremonial figure, then later adopt a child into the elder brother’s line. The second: marry the bride under the elder brother’s name, but live as husband and wife in truth, with any children recorded under the elder brother’s lineage.
The first way is more respectable. The second touches upon moral propriety—it can be done, but never spoken of openly. After all, sleeping with one’s nominal elder sister-in-law is hardly honorable. Yet Yun Zheng declared it outright, brazen and unrestrained. They wanted to trample her into the mud? Then she would make them lose face.
Ye Yizhen’s cheeks flushed crimson, furious and ashamed. This wretched woman was trying to cut off her future—intolerable!
Jiang Wenzhou exploded in rage: “You are vulgar, uncultured, shameless!”
But Yun Zheng looked innocent as she pressed further: “Do you sleep with her, or not?”
The dignified Marchioness could endure no more. She stepped forward, scolding: “Silence, Yun girl! Once you enter the Marquis household, you must obey its rules. A daughter-in-law must follow the Three Obediences and Four Virtues, heed her husband in all things, treat him as Heaven itself, and uphold the family’s honor. Do you understand?”
Yun Zheng’s expression was calm as she countered: “And who are you?”
The Marchioness stiffened. “I am your mother-in-law, the mistress of the Pingxi household.”
Her reputation among noblewomen was excellent—noble, kind, generous, dignified. But Yun Zheng alone knew that beneath her gentle smile lay a venomous heart.
“Oh, a stepmother. The deceased eldest son was your stepson, and Miss Ye is his bride. Would you let your own son sleep with his sister-in-law? Would you?”
Stepmother? The guests exchanged strange looks. Ah, they had nearly forgotten—she was not the original wife, but a second wife. Her entry into the household had not been honorable.
The Marchioness’s face turned green. Years of effort to blur her status as a stepwife were undone in a single sentence from Yun Zheng. At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to kill Yun Zheng.
Seeing his wife and son unable to suppress Yun Zheng, the Marquis’s face darkened. “Do not delay the auspicious hour. Wenzhou, first marry Miss Ye.”
He was the master of the household—his word was law.
The pair’s faces lit with joy, hearts brimming with delight.
“One bow to Heaven and Earth, second bow to the parents, third bow between husband and wife.”
The officiant’s voice rang through the hall as the first couple, full of tender affection, completed the wedding rites. After bowing as husband and wife, they exchanged smiles, their eyes brimming with love.
Marquis Pingxi and his wife sat in the place of honor, smiling as they accepted the young couple’s bows. Guests offered their blessings one after another, the atmosphere festive and harmonious. The only discordant note was Yun Zheng, utterly out of place in this joy. It was a deliberate humiliation, a slap in her face, a show of dominance by the Marquis. Yet faced with such embarrassment, Yun Zheng did not grow angry. She looked on calmly, as though she were an outsider.
Ye Yizhen’s eyes gleamed with provocation. “Sister-in-law, will you not congratulate me?” She longed to see Yun Zheng heartbroken, devastated.
“Congratulations,” Yun Zheng replied coolly, her expression unreadable.
Ye Yizhen felt as though she had punched cotton—frustrated. Keep pretending. Let’s see how long you can keep it up.
Marquis Pingxi signaled the officiant, who loudly declared: “Next is the wedding of the second household. Heir, Miss Yun, please step forward to the hall and perform the rites.”
But Jiang Wenzhou did not move. He signaled a servant instead. “Father, I am unwell. Let a servant carry in a rooster to marry in my stead.”
The hall fell silent. He was perfectly fine, yet he would have his new bride bow to a rooster. The heir of the Marquis household was too cruel, denying her even the barest dignity.
Ye Yizhen’s heart leaped with delight, her lips curling upward in triumph.
Marquis Pingxi snapped in irritation: “Nonsense!”
“Here comes the rooster,” a sly-looking servant rushed in, clutching the bird.
Moments ago, Jiang Wenzhou had been vigorous. Now he swayed as though fainting. “Father, I cannot stand. I truly cannot perform the rites.”
The act was laughably false, lazily played.
Ye Yizhen, feigning concern, supported him. Hidden beneath his sleeve, his hand gently squeezed hers. They exchanged a sweet, conspiratorial glance.
The Marchioness spoke softly, coaxing: “Husband, Wenzhou has been busy preparing the wedding and attending to his duties. It is no wonder his health is unsteady.”
Closing their eyes and spouting lies—this was nothing but a deliberate humiliation of Yun Zheng.
Marquis Pingxi remained silent. That too was a statement of his stance.
Seeing his tacit approval, the Marchioness felt secure and emboldened. She smiled sweetly as she approached Yun Zheng. “Miss Yun, you are educated and reasonable. Surely you can understand, can’t you?”
The humiliation they had suffered earlier was now being repaid double.
Yun Zheng smiled shyly, looking every bit the bashful new bride. “Yes, of course I can.”
The Marquis household was surprised. She was so agreeable? Had she finally recognized her position? Too late.
A cold gleam flickered in the Marchioness’s eyes, though her words were honeyed. “Good. I did not choose wrongly. You truly are a sensible, obedient daughter-in-law.”
She pointed to the servant. “Tietou, bring the rooster forward to bow with Miss Yun.”
The guests felt sympathy for the Yun girl. Such a mismatched scene—bowing alongside a servant with a rooster. Her status was impossible to define, and her future was bleak. Ah, but Yun Zheng had been too forceful. Before even entering the household, she had shamed them.
Ye Yizhen’s lips curled upward, eyes brimming with triumph. Compete with her? Was Yun Zheng even worthy? She didn’t need to lift a finger—others fought her battles for her.
Yun Zheng’s gaze turned cold as she looked at them all. In her past life, they had joined hands to destroy her. In this life, they wanted to repeat the same tricks? Dream on. She swore: this time she would live freely, repay enmity with vengeance, never again swallow humiliation. Come then—let’s destroy each other together! Let the storm rage even fiercer!