“If Husband has no other business, please return.”
He Fangting sat upright, her posture clearly one of dismissal.
Jiang Zhixiu looked at her serene brows and eyes, his anger surging uncontrollably. “He Fangting, what exactly do you mean?”
He Fangting answered calmly, “What I mean—surely Husband understands.”
Jiang Zhixiu sneered, “In the end, you only want to manipulate me. If I refuse to continue the ancestral line, then you’ll take back the household accounts?”
He Fangting admitted openly, “Yes.”
Only this time, she would not be as generous as before. Not a single coin would be spent unnecessarily. Had not the Old Master said that ginseng and bird’s nest were less practical than radishes? Then everything would be replaced with radishes. And radishes were indeed a fine thing.
After a pause, she added, “If you are fond of Miss Xie, you may take her as a favored concubine. I promise never to make things difficult for you. You and she may still live as a devoted pair.”
She had once felt deep affection for Jiang Zhixiu. After all, they were married young, living together day and night, and he was talented and handsome—her rightful husband. It was natural that she had loved him. But that affection had been worn away, little by little.
Her first disappointment came when she was pregnant with Ying’er. Madam Pan, tender-hearted, worried her son had no one to serve him, and bought him a bedchamber maid. Jiang Zhixiu, half-reluctant, accepted her, and only afterward told Fangting, saying it was a gift from his elders he dared not refuse, and that she was merely a servant girl—if Fangting disliked her, she could be dismissed.
He had perhaps forgotten that before their marriage, he had sworn before her grandparents that he would never take another woman.
That day, Fangting thought long and hard. In the end, she realized it was not her fault—Jiang Zhixiu was simply an ordinary man, unworthy of her full devotion.
From then on, they were merely husband and wife, like other noble couples in the capital: the husband fought in court, the wife managed the household, together preserving the family’s wealth and honor.
She believed this was their unspoken agreement. She had fulfilled her duty, but Jiang Zhixiu broke his promise, seeking to elevate another woman.
How could that be tolerated? It was against all reason.
When she suggested Xie Meiying could be taken as a concubine, Jiang Zhixiu reacted as if gravely insulted, refusing outright: “Meiying cannot be a concubine!”
He Fangting’s expression remained cold. “If she cannot be a concubine, then must she steal another woman’s husband?”
From her words, Jiang Zhixiu heard a trace of care for him. His anger eased slightly. He leaned forward, trying to take her arm. But He Fangting quickly drew back, her gaze avoiding his—not out of fear, but out of disdain.
Jiang Zhixiu was not angered. He spoke earnestly: “Fangting, my bond with Meiying is a fate from a past life, a reunion in this one. Our hearts are drawn together—it is not something we can control. Without her, I would have no joy for the rest of my days. Without me, she would drift like duckweed upon the water, rootless and unsettled. But rest assured, if I marry her, I will not neglect you. The three of us will live in harmony. What is yours will never be diminished. Each month, I will spend at least ten days with you.”
He Fangting nearly gagged at his words. “No need. You may spend every day with her—so long as she is a concubine.”
Jiang Zhixiu cried out in anguish, “Why must you torment such a pitiful woman? Fangting, you were never this cruel before!”
Even her refined composure could not withstand this. She flared up: “And who is tormenting whom? It was not I who brought another woman home, wanting to marry her! If refusing to let you wed Xie Meiying makes me cruel, then so be it—I am cruel!”
What she despised most about Jiang Zhixiu was that after wronging her, he twisted words to make it seem she was at fault.
Jiang Zhixiu said irritably, “Why can’t you understand? Meiying is pure of heart, without ambition or rivalry. If she enters the Jiang household, she will pose no threat to you!”
No threat? That was talk fit only for fools.
He Fangting sneered, “Is that so? Then let us imagine—if you were me, would you agree to your husband marrying his brother’s widow?”
Jiang Zhixiu opened his mouth, but she pressed on: “Speak the truth! If you lie even about this, it will only make you contemptible.”
Jiang Zhixiu hesitated.
He Fangting looked at him, her eyes full of weary insight. “So, you would not agree either. Only when the knife cuts into one’s own flesh does one know the pain.”
Jiang Zhixiu’s face burned. Shamed and angry under her gaze, he blurted recklessly: “If I were you, I would gladly welcome Meiying into the household, gaining the reputation of magnanimity. Then His Majesty would know that the daughter of Princess Fuzhuang has not disgraced the royal family, but is a virtuous wife praised by all!”
He Fangting’s eyes hardened. “You would use His Majesty to threaten me?”
His tone, tinged with disrespect toward Princess Fuzhuang, enraged her further.
Many might criticize Princess Fuzhuang—but Jiang Zhixiu was not among them. He had no right.
Realizing his slip, Jiang Zhixiu fell silent for a moment, then lowered his stance and pleaded: “Fangting, we are husband and wife. Husband and wife are one—sharing each other’s joys and sorrows. My heart belongs to Meiying. I beg you to grant me this.”
He Fangting replied coolly, “No. I will not grant it.”
If she were to grant them happiness, who would grant hers?
Jiang Zhixiu looked at her face, unchanged in beauty after more than ten years, yet now cold enough to chill him. Compared to her, Xie Meiying seemed all the more gentle, tender, and considerate. That he had fallen in love with Meiying was no surprise at all.
He asked again, “You will not grant it?”
He Fangting’s expression was indifferent. “No.”