“You saved County Princess Heyi?” The Marchioness was astonished, setting down her teacup.
Inside the room, the three siblings were gathered.
Shen Chang’an nodded. “I mistook her for someone else.” He never suspected Shen Qingluo; the situation had been chaotic, and mistakes were bound to happen.
Everyone knew Feng Yuan was domineering.
Marchioness didn’t dwell on it. She asked, “Did Zhong Ling see this?”
Shen Chang’an replied, “No.”
“That’s good. Ah Yi already sounded out Zhong Ling—she admires you. Her mother has softened as well. The marriage into the Shen family is almost certain.” Marchioness spoke with satisfaction.
Shen Chang’an’s face lit with pride. With his talent and looks, and a little effort, how could he fail to win over a gentle, pliant girl like Zhong Ling? He strode back to Qingfeng Courtyard with a spring in his step, where a graceful maid with fair features approached.
“Eldest Young Master has returned.” Qiao’er twisted her waist and nestled into his arms.
Shen Chang’an wrapped an arm around her waist, delighted. “Today I’m in high spirits. I’ll spend the evening with you.”
Qingfeng Courtyard was filled not with cool breezes, but with spring’s indulgent warmth.
Shen Qingluo knew well of Shen Chang’an’s debauchery. Qiao’er and Hui’er were his bedchamber maids, spoiled and arrogant. After his marriage, they often showed Zhong Ling little respect.
“This poor Miss Zhong marrying the Eldest Young Master—isn’t that a calamity?” Nanny Bai, who spent her days in the household, had heard plenty of gossip.
Shen Qingluo’s lips curved in a faint smile. “Nothing is settled yet. Who knows when things might change?”
After returning from the lake outing, Shen Qingluo had learned that Shen Chang’an had rescued Feng Yuan before Sun Wenjing had the chance.
Appearance-wise, Shen Chang’an resembled Shen Zheng—tall and handsome—whereas Sun Wenjing was slight of build, a frail scholar.
If Feng Yuan could be taken with Sun Wenjing at first glance, then what if it had been Shen Chang’an instead—would she not have favored him?
The next day, Madam Zhong arrived and formally agreed to the marriage between the Shen and Zhong families. Marchioness was overjoyed.
Three days later, the Madam of Yongning’s household paid a visit. She was the legitimate younger sister of the Feng family head, Feng Yuan’s aunt. Her purpose was self-evident.
After seeing the guest off, Marchioness remained dazed for a long while. She clutched Nanny Qian’s hand and asked, “I didn’t mishear, did I? The County Princess Heyi truly has her eye on Chang’an, wanting to marry into the Shen family?”
Nanny Qian smiled. “You heard right, Madam. Our young master is truly blessed.”
A slow, heady joy surged straight to Marchioness’s temples. She paced the room, weighing her choices.
“The marriage between the Shen and Zhong families has already spread far and wide. Suxin has been my sister for many years. If I turn around now and marry Chang’an to the county princess, will Suxin resent me?”
“Oh, Madam, in noble households marriage is all about family rank and standing. The Zhong family cannot compare to the Fengs. If our young master weds the Feng family’s princess, his future will soar, and the Marquis estate will bask in glory for generations.” Nanny Qian added, “As for Madam Zhong, you can always say the Fengs forced the match. After all, the county princess’s reputation precedes her—she is known to be domineering.”
“You’re right, you’re right.” Marchioness’s wavering heart settled. Her gaze grew firm.
Trading a sisterly bond for a son’s bright future was worth it.
At suppertime, Shen Qingluo went to Mingde Hall, summoned there by Marchioness’s order. Ordinarily, Shen Qingluo would never set foot in this place. Everyone was already present—Shen Chang’an, Shen Changting, and Shen Zheng.
Madam Wei wore a smile, though behind it lurked a trace of envy too subtle to catch. She said, “Chang’an marrying County Princess Feng is a great fortune.”
“The Feng family is powerful, and many in the capital speak ill of them,” Shen Zheng remarked.
“What of it?” Madam Wei dismissed the concern. “The Fengs have Consort Shu in the palace. She is still young—if she bears another child… the Fengs will rise even higher. By then, if we wish to tie ourselves to them, it will be too late.”
Shen Zheng’s lifelong obsession was to make his mark in officialdom. If he could not achieve it himself, then his son might. For his son, marrying Feng Yuan meant climbing a ladder straight into the clouds.
Other sons and nephews’ marriages would rise in stature as well, and the Shen family’s standing would ascend accordingly.
In this capital, where a single blow could crush several marquises, the Shen clan was insignificant. What mattered was aligning with ministers who held real power at court.
Such calculating thoughts Shen Zheng did not voice. Instead, he feigned solemnity and asked Shen Chang’an, “This is your marriage. Are you willing to wed County Princess Feng?”
Father and son looked alike, and their hearts thought alike. Shen Chang’an had long decided. He nodded firmly: “I will marry Feng Yuan.”
Marchioness was the happiest of all, her smile radiant. “Then tomorrow I shall send word to Madam Yongning.”
The matter was settled. The First Branch rejoiced, while the Second and Third Branches simmered with envy.
Shen Qingluo sipped a cup of clear tea, quiet and composed.
When spring passed, news of the Shen–Feng betrothal spread. Upon hearing it, Madam Zhong fell ill with grief.
Madam Zhong wanted to confront them, but Master Zhong stopped her. “The Shen and Zhong families never formally set the betrothal. If you storm over there, others will think our daughter is unwanted, clinging to the Shen family out of desperation.”
Madam Zhong calmed herself and listened to her husband. “I only feel sorrow for Ah Ling. Her heart was set on marrying the Shen family’s eldest son.” She added bitterly, “When the Shens sought to marry Ah Ling, they came eagerly, speaking of sisterly bonds. Now that they’ve found a higher branch to perch upon, they cast us aside—fickle and faithless!”
Master Zhong straightened his back. “Shen Zheng is shortsighted. Just wait—you’ll see him suffer for it in time.”
In her boudoir, Zhong Ling wept bitterly. The invitation she had sent to Shen Qingyi was returned.
Her maid reported, “The gatekeeper at Marquis Zhongyong’s estate said their Second Miss fell into the water, caught a chill, and cannot rise from bed.”
Delivering the message, the maid fumed. “It must be that Second Miss refuses to see you.”
Zhong Ling, heartbroken and disappointed, murmured, “I never thought our closeness was false. I only wished to ask Shen Chang’an’s true feelings. If he is being forced, then at least my years of devotion would not be in vain…”
Shen Qingyi did not come to see Zhong Ling, but Shen Qingluo did. She slipped out through the back gate of the Marquis’s residence, saying only that she was going to stroll the streets. Marchioness was too busy with her eldest son’s marriage to Feng Yuan to pay her any mind.
Madam Zhong received her and led her into Zhong Ling’s courtyard.
“I never thought anyone from the Shen family would dare step into the Zhong household. If not for Ah Ling wanting to see you, I would not have let you in,” Madam Zhong said coldly.
Shen Qingluo bowed in apology. With sincerity, she said, “Matters decided by elders are beyond me. But Sister Zhong and I are kindred spirits. I came not for anything else, only to comfort her.”
Madam Zhong’s expression softened slightly. “You are indeed different from the rest of the Shen family.”
Shen Qingluo had not grown up in the Marquis’s household. She was raised by her grandmother, a merchant’s daughter whom the Shen family disdained. It was clear that Old Madam Shen had been a woman of integrity and principle.
“Your grandmother taught you well,” Madam Zhong said.
These words filled Shen Qingluo with quiet joy.
As soon as they entered the courtyard, Shen Qingluo caught the scent of medicine. She asked, “Is Sister Zhong ill?”
Madam Zhong sighed. “She caught a chill in the rain at Baihe Lake some days ago. She had not yet recovered when this distressing news reached her. The physician says her grief has worsened her condition. She has taken several prescriptions, but none have helped.”
A fit of coughing broke out from within.
Fortunately, Shen Qingluo had brought Xiao Ya along today.
Madam Zhong offered a few words of comfort to her daughter, then left Shen Qingluo alone with her.
“Ah Luo,” Zhong Ling’s tears spilled as soon as she spoke. In barely ten days, she had grown thin, her complexion waxen.
“Lie down quickly,” Shen Qingluo urged, helping her to recline.