Note: Pingqi — co-wife or equal wife. Unlike a concubine, a pingqi has a status nearly equal to the principal wife. This arrangement was uncommon but did exist in certain historical periods and fiction.
“Xiyin’s parents died saving my father. She is a lone girl with no one to rely on. I intend to marry her as a Pingqi and hold her Guomenli on the same day you marry into my house.”
In the main hall of the Mu estate.
Mu Yao gazed at that familiar face for a long time, suddenly finding it somewhat strange.
She and Lu Zhi were betrothed by imperial decree and had been childhood sweethearts. The entire capital knew that their grand wedding was to be held in seven days.
Yet, Lu Zhi chose this exact moment to demand that he marry the daughter of a servant as a Pingqi.
Was this not a direct slap to Mu Yao’s face?
“And if I refuse?” Mu Yao asked coldly, her beautiful and elegant features now covered in a layer of frost.
Lu Zhi’s brow furrowed. This handsome gentleman of refined grace instantly showed a flash of displeasure in his eyes.
“Our marriage was bestowed by the Emperor. Even if you refuse, could you possibly defy an imperial decree and not marry?”
“Allowing Xiyin to hold her Guomenli alongside you is merely to give her some face, so that she won’t be bullied in the household in the future.”
“You have been well-versed in the Nüjie and Nüxun since childhood. Do you really intend to defy your husband’s wishes?”
The coldness in Lu Zhi’s eyes lasted only a moment before he moved to patiently soothe her.
“I originally intended to hold the ceremony for Xiyin as soon as possible, but that would mean delaying our wedding. You are growing older; if you don’t marry soon, I fear you will become the subject of public gossip.”
“This arrangement is good for you as well.”
Mu Yao lowered her eyes, a bitter smile curling on her vermilion lips.
She had observed three years of mourning for her parents and would be seventeen after the New Year. In other families, a seventeen-year-old woman would already have children gathered at her knees.
When it came to marriage, she was naturally anxious.
“I know you were entrusted with her by Liu Xiyin’s parents on their deathbeds. But could you not have found a good marriage for her and given her a generous dowry to support her? Must you marry her yourself?”
Out of respect for their years of affection, Mu Yao intended to give Lu Zhi one last chance.
It was common for men to have three wives and four concubines. If Lu Zhi wanted to take a concubine after she had married in, she would not have said a word.
But he insisted on her entering the house on the same day.
To elevate Liu Xiyin’s status was to degrade Mu Yao’s.
The Emperor himself had praised the Mu family for their generation-spanning loyalty and literary merit—a reputation her parents had earned with their lives.
Even for Lu Zhi, she would not allow the Mu family to be belittled!
Lu Zhi’s throat bobbed, his guilt now plain to see.
“That was my original plan, but Xiyin threatened to take her own life rather than marry another.”
Before Mu Yao could wonder why she was so stubborn, Lu Zhi followed up quickly.
“She is already a Tongfang in my chambers. She has given her body to me; how could she possibly marry another?”
Heh…
Mu Yao’s eyes turned cold, the light in her gaze completely dying out.
A Tongfang?
Originally, Lu Zhi had told her he was a man of integrity and would never allow a single concubine in his rooms before she married in.
No concubines, but he had a Tongfang he grew up with?
A Tongfang maid-servant, entering the house on the same day as the primary wife to be titled a Pingqi.
If word got out, what would become of the Mu family’s dignity?
Seeing that Mu Yao had not responded for a long time, Lu Zhi took it as silent consent.
“Xiyin will merely hold the title of Pingqi. Her talents and ability to manage a household are not equal to yours. In the future, you alone will be the Mistress of the Marquis’s estate.”
“You have nothing to worry about.”
Mu Yao gave a low “Mhm” in response, her mind already made up.
After Lu Zhi left, Mu Yao’s head maid, Ningzhu, spoke up in a fit of anger.
“Miss, the Lu family is clearly bullying the Mu family for having no one left! They are going out of their way to humiliate us!”
Mu Yao’s lips curled into a cold sneer, her heart turning even colder.
Even Ningzhu, a maid who had barely had any schooling, knew that Lu Zhi was a bully.
When he came to her door today, did he not consider that he was preying on the Mu family’s decline?
“Let’s go back to the room.”
Mu Yao didn’t say much. She took Ningzhu back to her room and resumed embroidering her wedding dress with gold and silver threads.
Ningzhu was startled and confused. “The Lu family is treating you so poorly, why are you still embroidering a wedding dress? Are you really going to marry into that house and let them mistreat you?”
Mu Yao’s hands did not stop, her nimble fingers bringing the phoenix on the dress to life.
“This is an imperial marriage. Even if we are unwilling, can we really defy the decree?”
Mu Yao’s voice was calm, as if Lu Zhi’s words earlier had not affected her in the slightest.
Ningzhu’s chest tightened, but she couldn’t find a single word to say.
Indeed, it was an imperial decree. Who could defy it?
Back then, the Chudi region was plagued by floods, with heavy casualties every year. Mu Yao’s father and mother had been ordered to Chudi to manage the waters. They succeeded after six years of hard work.
But because of that, they fell ill from exhaustion and died on the way back to the capital.
Only then did the Emperor bestow the title of “Zhongsu Gong” upon her father and name Mu Yao the Chudi Xianzhu to showcase his imperial grace.
From that point on, Mu Yao was the only one left in the Mu family.
The Mu family had been the leaders of the civil officials. At that time, in order to gain the recognition of the civil officials, the Lu family had proactively requested the decree to marry Mu Yao, swearing to treat the orphan of a loyal minister well.
“When the tea grows cold, the people leave.”
Mu Yao sighed softly, her voice filled with loneliness.
Now, the Lu family was flourishing among the civil officials. With no one from the Mu family left in court, the tea had naturally grown cold.
Whether she, the sole survivor, lived or died, or was stepped on and humiliated, no one likely cared.
But if Lu Zhi thought he could use a Jiashengzi to humiliate her, she would rather not marry at all!
Only four days remained until the wedding.
The Mu estate had few servants, so Mu Yao had to personally oversee the wedding preparations. While Mu Yao and Ningzhu were out shopping on the street, Ningzhu suddenly tugged at Mu Yao’s sleeve, her almond eyes wide and angry as she pointed at a woman in a rouge shop.
“Miss, isn’t that Liu Xiyin!”
Mu Yao looked in the direction she was pointing and saw Liu Xiyin, adorned in gold hairpins and jade rings, inside the shop.
Liu Xiyin was a Jiashengzi of the Lu estate. Her father was the Lu estate’s steward; no matter how much power he held, he was still of slave status.
But looking at Liu Xiyin’s attire now, she looked more like the legitimate daughter of a noble house.
Even before she had entered the house, Lu Zhi was doting on her like this. If she did enter, what primary wife could ever live in peace?
“Let’s go.”
Mu Yao had already made her decision and didn’t want to get involved with Liu Xiyin at this time.
But just as she and Ningzhu turned around, she heard a delicate, weak call from behind.
“Sister Yao!”
After just a few steps, Liu Xiyin was panting for breath, looking quite pitiable.
Seeing her weak and innocent act, Mu Yao understood why Lu Zhi was so steadfast in his desire to marry her.
“Is something the matter?” Mu Yao turned back, her tone devoid of even basic politeness.
In the past, when Liu Xiyin saw her, she would respectfully call her “Miss Mu.” Now, before she had even entered the house, she had changed her address to “Sister.”
Liu Xiyin really couldn’t even be bothered to pretend anymore.
Liu Xiyin curtsied, then asked tentatively, “Xiyin has no other intentions. I only wanted to ask Sister—how many carriages does A-Zhi intend to use to welcome you?”
Mu Yao’s brow furrowed slightly, a hint of confusion in her eyes.
This was something for Lu Zhi to decide; how would she know?
Before Mu Yao could speak, Liu Xiyin spoke with a smile, lowering her head bashfully.
“A-Zhi said he wants to marry me with a procession of eight. But Sister Yao comes from a prestigious family after all, so I thought I would come and ask.”
“If Sister Yao also has eight, or perhaps even fewer than eight, then Xiyin wouldn’t dare to overstep her bounds.”
Mu Yao felt a hitch in her throat, and even Ningzhu beside her instantly clenched her fists.
For princes and nobles, a procession of six was already enough to gain great face. One must know that only the Empress had a regulation of ten.
Could the Mu family possibly surpass the Empress’s regulations?
Liu Xiyin’s eight carriages were already the maximum allowed.
Even if Lu Zhi gave her eight as well, to have the same regulations as a Jiashengzi—how could that possibly reflect well on the Mu family?