“Finished speaking?” Jiang Yuan forced a smile, struggling to suppress the seething hatred rising in her chest.
To her disbelief, Lu Ze actually gave it serious thought. “For now… that’s all I’ve got. I’ll tell you the rest when I remember more.”
“Your plans are wonderful,” Jiang Yuan said, her tone biting. “But do me a favour — don’t make any more. Your father outranks you, he’s richer, and he’s far better-looking. Divorce him and marry you? You’ve been daydreaming too much and it’s rotted your brain. Instead of standing here spouting nonsense, go see the army doctor and get your head examined.”
Lu Ze had never known the gentle Jiang Yuan to speak so sharply. He froze in shock for several seconds, and by the time he recovered, she was already storming away. He hurried after her.
Revolted by his very presence, Jiang Yuan spun around and slapped him hard across the face. “Legally speaking, I am your mother now. I suggest you keep your distance. One more step and I’ll scream ‘assault’ and let your father deal with you.”
Before he could stammer a reply, she cut in sharply: “Which room does your mother stay in?”
Lu Ze touched his stinging left cheek, his heart a chaotic swirl of emotions. He knew Jiang Yuan — she was afraid of the dark, afraid of ghosts, easily exhausted, and spoiled by nature. He had never imagined she would travel all the way to the capital just to find him. That she would boldly confront Lu Qinian — the man even he feared — and strike such a bargain… it spoke of a love deeper than he had ever realised.
She must truly love him, he thought, to go to such lengths. And yet now, seeing her anger, he felt he had failed her deeply. Fortunately his father had stepped in to help. Her harsh words, even the slap she had given him — all were understandable. Strike means affection, scolding means love, as the saying went. He would endure it all gladly.
Lu Ze pointed toward a door on the lower floor, smiling foolishly. “My mother stays there. The room next to hers is empty — perfect for you. You’ll be close by and can look after her easily.”
Jiang Yuan decided he was utterly hopeless. She brushed past him without a word and went downstairs to choose a room for herself. She had asked which room Song Yuhua occupied for one reason only — to pick the farthest one away. She wanted nothing to do with that woman.
Lu Ze hurried back to the base. He needed to speak to Xu Qianjin and make sure the marriage application remained a secret. He left Jiang Yuan to settle in — she was here now, after all. Everything else could be dealt with in time.
Jiang Yuan chose the room at the very end of the corridor. It was small but spotless and bright — clearly prepared for guests, with crisp, clean sheets and pillows. She had spent two days and a night on a crowded, stuffy train with no proper rest. Now, in a quiet room with a soft warm bed, she intended to sleep properly.
She had no idea how long she slept. She was deep in a pleasant dream when loud, insistent knocking jolted her awake.
“Comrade Jiang! It is time to rise and prepare breakfast!”
Annoyed by the noise, Jiang Yuan pulled the covers over her head and tried to sleep on. She had barely drifted off when she dreamt she had fallen into icy water. The shock of freezing water made her sit bolt upright — and realised it was no dream. An entire basin of water had been emptied over her bed and her face.
She brushed soaking hair from her eyes and looked toward the foot of the bed. Standing there was a woman in her forties, round-eyed, with a broad face and thin brows. She wore simple clothes and an apron, hands planted firmly on her hips, staring back with open appraisal and disdain.
“Comrade Jiang — this is not the countryside. Now that you have come to the city, now that you have entered the Lu family, you will abide by its rules. Division Commander Lu and Comrade Lu Ze begin their drills at six. By that hour, you should be up and preparing their meals. Comrade Song spared you on account of this being your first day — yet you lie abed at this hour! A rude, unmannered country girl like you, thinking to come and live in comfort in the city? The very idea makes me laugh!”
Jiang Yuan had seen Song Yuhua in her past life. This woman was not her — though the same sharp, mean edge was unmistakable. This must be the housekeeper, Aunt Liu. And so soon… Song Yuhua could not even wait a single day before making her move. How revealing.
A faint, cold smile touched Jiang Yuan’s lips. “Did that wicked old woman Song Yuhua send you to do this?”
Lu Ze had spoken of Song Yuhua as gentle and virtuous. And Aunt Liu, for all her narrow views, had expected a timid country girl who would be cowed by a few sharp words. She had not expected this — and nearly nodded the truth before she caught herself. She seized upon the words instead:
“How dare you speak an elder’s name so disrespectfully! And to call her… that!”
“And to call her what?” Jiang Yuan cut her off rudely. “I called her an old woman — not you. Are you jealous? Very well — I shall do you one better. She is a wicked old woman.”
She spoke each word slowly, biting them out one by one. Wicked old woman — each syllable struck like a firecracker, sending Aunt Liu’s temper flaring.
“You —!”
Years ago, Lu Qinian had laid down one strict rule for this household and all within the compound: speech must be civil. Insulting language and foul words were forbidden. Over the years, Aunt Liu had lost the habit of trading insults. She stood spluttering, unable to think of a single retort beyond that one word.
Wasting no further breath on her, Jiang Yuan threw off the soaked quilt, snatched the basin from Aunt Liu’s hands, and hurried downstairs. She had taken note of the layout the night before — she knew exactly where to find the tap. She turned it on full and soon the basin was brimming.
Out in the veranda, Song Yuhua sat sipping coffee and admiring the flowers. She wore a smoky blue dress, her curled hair loosely tied back with a handkerchief. Elegant, poised, and radiating charm — a woman in her late thirties, at the height of her allure.
Song Yuhua lifted her coffee cup to her lips, closed her eyes, and breathed in the fragrance. Just as she leaned forward to take a sip — a basinful of cold water crashed down upon her from above. Coffee and water streamed down her face, soaking her hair and dress. She looked utterly ridiculous.
Song Yuhua tore clumps of hair from her face, trembling with rage. “Jiang Yuan! What is the meaning of this?!”
Jiang Yuan tossed the basin aside carelessly, her smile bright and perfectly innocent. “Returning the favour. Isn’t it obvious?”
That cheerful, unrepentant smile only made Song Yuhua burn hotter. “Why?! Why pour water on me?!”
“Courtesy calls for reciprocity,” Jiang Yuan replied, sounding as harmless as could be. “You sent Aunt Liu to pour water over me. If I did not return the gesture, people would say I have no manners — coming from the countryside and all.”
“It was Aunt Liu who poured it! Not I!” Song Yuhua stamped her foot, teeth gritted in fury.
“As I said — courtesy calls for reciprocity,” Jiang Yuan replied calmly. “The gift came from you. Aunt Liu was merely the messenger. If I had returned it to her and she chose not to pass it along… then my gesture would have been wasted, would it not?”
Song Yuhua held no official standing in the Lu family, yet she was Lu Ze’s mother — mother to Lu Qinian’s sole heir. Everyone in the compound treated her with deference. Never had she imagined being humiliated so thoroughly by a girl from the countryside.
She should never have given in to Lu Ze’s soft-hearted proposal — “Think of it as hiring a maid for nothing, Mother. Test her out. If she suits, she stays. If not, she may still leave.” And she should never have held back out of caution, knowing Lu Qinian himself had allowed the girl to remain.
This was no obedient maid she had taken in — this was a shameless, wild hooligan!
“Aunt Liu!” Song Yuhua shrieked. “Telephone Lu Ze at once! Tell him to come home — immediately!”