Jiang Chengzong was furious, ready to curse, but hesitated. He shot his wife a glare, signaling her to speak.
Madam Pan, never one for ideas, stammered: “Fangting, we women should take our husbands as heaven. Whatever the husband says, that is what it must be. Zhixiu loves Miss Xie—why not let him marry her? What harm can it do?”
He Fangting already knew her mother‑in‑law was muddle‑headed. She remained calm, smiling: “Father also likes her. Why not let Father marry her instead?”
Madam Pan’s face froze in shock. “…Ah?”
Jiang Chengzong blew out his beard and glared: “Do not speak such nonsense!”
To marry the woman his son desired—what absurdity!
Seeing his parents falter, Jiang Linxiu stepped forward to persuade: “Elder Sister‑in‑law, Miss Xie is alone and kind‑hearted. If she joins our family, she will not interfere with your authority as mistress of the household.”
Xie Meiying had saved countless disaster victims and was praised in poems by scholars. Such a virtuous woman—why could his sister‑in‑law not tolerate her?
Li Xixiang also smiled: “Sister‑in‑law, if Miss Xie enters, she will simply be another sister‑in‑law. Your status will not change, and the authority of household management will remain yours. Why fuss? Be generous.”
She had no quarrel with He Fangting, and they had lived together peacefully for years. Yet He Fangting’s innate nobility always made her seem like a lofty phoenix. Even dressed in gold and silver, Li Xixiang felt like a barnyard hen beside her. Today, at last, she could watch He Fangting stumble. The delight was intoxicating.
Jiang Chengzong and Madam Pan, encouraged, repeated that He Fangting’s authority would remain intact.
He Fangting spoke slowly: “You all keep talking about household authority. Do you think I treasure it so dearly? Very well—take it.”
They saw only the power, not the burden. She had labored for years; it was time to rest.
Turning to Bai Wei, she ordered: “Go find Accountant Chen and Accountant Wang. Tell them to bring the ledgers here to Songrong Hall and hand them over to Second Madam.”
Bai Wei obeyed and hurried off.
The Jiang family was stunned. It took them a moment to react, faces shifting with surprise.
Li Xixiang’s eyes gleamed. If He Fangting dared to give, she dared to take. Everyone knew household management carried profit. The second branch was weaker than the main; to gain such authority was a boon.
Jiang Linxiu was delighted: “Elder Sister‑in‑law, what are you doing?”
He Fangting smiled: “I refuse my husband’s marriage to Miss Xie not because of household authority. Since you don’t believe me, I’ll prove it.”
In her mind, their schemes were laughable. Not only did they use Xie Meiying to humiliate her, but they also expected her to keep slaving away, managing the family’s expenses. What a dream.
She turned to Li Xixiang with another smile: “Sister‑in‑law, Second Brother is also a son of the Jiang family. He can also continue the lineage. His age is close to Miss Xie’s. He should marry her—that would be most fitting.”
Jiang Zhixiu was thirty‑seven; Jiang Linxiu twenty‑nine; Xie Meiying twenty. They were indeed a better match.
Li Xixiang’s face changed. “How could that be!”
He Fangting smiled sweetly: “Why not? Miss Xie is alone and kind‑hearted. If she enters, she will be another sister‑in‑law. Your status will not change, and household authority will remain yours. Why fuss? Be generous.”
All the words Jiang Linxiu and Li Xixiang had just spoken were now turned back against them.
Jiang Linxiu frowned: “Elder Sister‑in‑law, you’re speaking nonsense again. Miss Xie’s affections are for Eldest Brother!”
He Fangting replied calmly: “So you mean, if her affections were for you, you would be willing to marry her?”
Before Jiang Linxiu could answer, Li Xixiang snapped: “Ah, so you’ve grown a thief’s heart, eyeing that seductress! I wondered why you kept praising her day after day. Do you have no shame?”
Jiang Linxiu retorted angrily: “Miss Xie is no seductress, and I have no designs on her!” He was exasperated—this wife of his only knew how to quarrel.
Li Xixiang shouted back: “Yet you still defend her!” She lunged at him, clawing and striking.
Madam Pan and Jiang Furong tried to intervene, Jiang Chengzong cursed, and the hall erupted into chaos.
He Fangting, unwilling to watch their squabble, flicked her sleeve and walked out of Songrong Hall with composure. She thought to herself: That second couple—both far too hot‑tempered. The evening glow is so beautiful; why not quietly enjoy it, instead of fighting like barnyard cocks?
On the way, she met Bai Wei and the two accountants, Chen and Wang. She instructed them to complete the handover that very night, not to wait until morning.
Li Xixiang thought household authority was a prized treasure, but in truth, it was a bottomless pit.
The Jiang family’s ancestors had once served as county magistrates, but by Jiang Chengzong’s generation, they were destitute, forced to sell off all property and return to their native village of Sanya, tilling a few meager acres.
Jiang Chengzong still put on the airs of a scholar, refusing to work the fields, leaving the labor to Madam Pan.
Jiang Zhixiu, however, was ambitious. At nineteen, he sat for the autumn examinations, ranked among the top, and in the palace exam was chosen to announce the results—the youngest in the hall, dazzling all. He was upright, never accepting bribes or gifts, and was known as a clean official. He Fangting admired this, but it also meant the Jiang family remained poor. She, though fallen from favor, was wealthy. Her grandparents had cherished her and given her a lavish dowry. Her mother, Princess Fuzhuang, left her an inheritance that could sustain extravagance for generations. With capable stewards and managers, her revenues over the years surpassed even those of princesses and princes. To her, money held little value.
Thus, she had never begrudged the Jiang family. As long as they let her live in peace, she was willing to spend—ginseng, antler, bird’s nest, lingzhi, whatever was needed. Perhaps this gave Li Xixiang the illusion that the Jiang family was rich. Let her enjoy that illusion.
Fortunately, from the start, He Fangting had kept her accounts separate from the Jiang family’s, never mixing them. The handover would be simple.
This too was her grandmother’s teaching: one may subsidize the husband’s family, but the accounts must be kept clear—lest in the end one labor in vain, unthanked and unrewarded.