Zhou Shuyu felt that An Ruoyu was too young compared to the Lin Family Young Master, and the two were not well-matched. She immediately frowned and said to An Jieshan, "Don’t let your friendship as fellow scholars dictate our daughter’s future. If you do, not only will Sister Wu object, but I will absolutely refuse as well."
"Ah, what are you thinking?" An Jieshan hurriedly explained. "It’s not Yu’er they’re interested in—it’s Susu."
"Susu?" Zhou Shuyu’s voice rose sharply, and she waved her hands repeatedly. "No, no, Susu is even more unsuitable."
Although the Lin family was as small as the An family—or even smaller, since An Jieshan at least had an elder brother and two cousins from the same grandfather—Lin Ruhai had no relatives within the five degrees of mourning. Precisely because of this, Zhou Shuyu firmly opposed marrying her youngest daughter into the Lin family.
Commoners might not understand, but those from official families knew it was easy to consult doctors. Those serving in the capital could even benefit from the Sage Emperor’s grace, occasionally inviting imperial physicians to their homes. Though they never spoke of it openly, they understood clearly that families like the Lins, who struggled with heirs and had only one male descendant for generations, likely had issues with the men’s health.
When such families chose wives, they prioritized the woman’s health and the number of siblings she had over her family background or dowry. Even if one or two generations made poor choices, could they all be so unlucky? Even if one or two jealous wives prevented concubines from bearing children, could every generation be like that? If so, the Lin family’s poor judgment across generations was their own fault.
Of course, such things could not be said outright. Even behind closed doors between husband and wife, it was enough to understand privately; voicing it would be unkind.
An Jieshan sighed. "How could I not understand? Susu is our youngest child, doted on since childhood, with the whole family indulging her. Though the Lin family is small, they are a family of marquises for generations, with connections built over five generations that are far from ordinary. Maintaining these relationships alone requires immense effort. Susu has been frail since childhood—how could she handle such responsibilities?"
Zhou Shuyu nudged him and chided, "Then why did you… hmph!"
"I didn’t want to either," An Jieshan said with a bitter smile. "But Brother Ruhai’s proposal is more about entrusting his child than arranging a marriage. We were not only fellow Jinshi but also entered the Hanlin Yuan together. We share similar temperaments and a deep bond. How could I refuse when a dear friend entrusts me with his child on his deathbed?"
Zhou Shuyu was startled. "Didn’t he only take on the additional role of Xunyan Yushi in Yangzhou the year before last? Those appointed to such positions are all trusted confidants of the Sage Emperor. Moreover, he served three consecutive terms, clearly favored by His Majesty. How could things have changed so suddenly…"
She trailed off, her expression gradually darkening as understanding dawned.
Last year, the Crown Prince had rebelled at Tiewang Shan while the Sage Emperor was on a hunting expedition. After his defeat, he was escorted back to the capital, where he and his entire family set themselves on fire. The Old Sage Emperor, overwhelmed by successive shocks, suffered a stroke and passed the throne to the Current Sage Emperor.
Though the Current Sage Emperor was the son of a favored consort, he was young and had only recently entered court, with no power base of his own. His ability to secure the throne relied entirely on the Old Sage Emperor’s support. Officials like Lin Ruhai and An Jieshan, who had been loyal to the Old Sage Emperor, naturally shifted their allegiance to assist the new ruler.
If things continued this way, with power transitioning smoothly, it would be a great boon for both the officials and the common people of the realm.
Yet fate had other plans. After the Old Sage Emperor abdicated and rested for half a year, his health gradually improved. The more he reflected on how readily he had relinquished power back then, the deeper his regret grew.
Meanwhile, since ascending the throne, the Sage Emperor had directly grasped real authority. A ruler with actual power commands unimaginable influence. In just half a year, a group of followers swiftly gathered under the Sage Emperor's banner.
On one side was a waning tiger king whose influence remained unshaken; on the other, a new master of the jungle whose fangs were already bared. With two suns in the sky and two masters among men, those most tormented were the ones who had originally been loyal to the Old Sage Emperor and, following his command, had sincerely assisted the new Sage Emperor.
The position of Xunyan Yushi itself was not of high rank, but because it controlled the financial power of a region, it had always been held concurrently by high-ranking officials from the capital.
Take Lin Ruhai, for example. His official duty was Xunyan Yushi, but his rank was that of a second-grade Lantai Si Dafu. Thus, he possessed both prestige and real authority.
Precisely because of this, when conflicts arose among the higher echelons of power, those occupying this position found themselves as if seated on a fiery bench—agonizingly scorched yet unable to shake free, as if their very flesh were stuck to it.
Having followed her husband through his official travels for many years, Zhou Shuyu understood the ways of the court not perfectly, but to a considerable extent. At first, it hadn’t occurred to her, but as soon as her mind made the connection, she immediately realized: Lin Ruhai’s days were numbered, and it was likely the will of those above.
Instantly, her thoughts turned from Lin Ruhai to her husband, An Jieshan. Their career paths were identical. Now that Lin Ruhai had become a casualty of power struggles, how could An Jieshan possibly remain unscathed?
Almost instinctively, she blurted out, “Refuse him, refuse him! Our family must not be implicated!”
With so many mouths to feed in their household, they absolutely could not be sacrificed for the sake of An Jieshan’s personal loyalties!
An Jieshan smiled bitterly. “At this point, if we truly refuse, I fear it will be difficult for me to maintain my standing in the court in the future.”
This matter concerned political credibility, which affected not just him alone but even his sons and grandsons.
After all, in official circles, people formed alliances and supported one another based on their respective stances. No one wished to forge deep ties with someone who sought only to slip away at a critical moment.
If ostracized by the entire officialdom, one’s political career would come to a complete end.
Zhou Shuyu collapsed onto the bed, her hands clutching a handkerchief to cover her eyes, her shoulders trembling violently. Only faint sobs could be heard.
She was an exceptionally strong-willed person, not only managing the household affairs with perfect order but also skillfully engaging with the wives of various officials, gathering and organizing crucial information from the court.
With such a capable partner by his side, An Jieshan felt he had been spared much worry. He had always been accommodating in her presence, indulging her increasingly spirited demeanor, as if even the sky collapsing wouldn’t faze her in her eyes.
Seeing such a person suddenly break down in tears over her helplessness would move anyone who knew her temperament to pity, let alone her husband of many years.
An Jieshan stepped forward and embraced his wife, his own eyes gradually reddening. Whether to comfort her or himself, he murmured, “In the world of officialdom, winds and clouds are ever unpredictable. Who knows which cloud will bring the rain?”
In the past, our two families were close and benefited greatly from each other. Who could have foreseen things turning out like this? We can't just cling to each other when there are advantages and hastily withdraw when trouble arises, can we?"
Leaning against her husband's sturdy frame, Zhou Shuyu suddenly softened and finally burst into tears. An Jieshan initially comforted her repeatedly, wiping away her tears, but gradually, his own sorrow welled up, and the couple wept in each other's arms.
Just then, the sound of a curtain rustling was heard, followed by a teasing voice: "What's going on here? Two people nearly a hundred years old combined, crying like children?"
The couple hurriedly wiped their tears and turned to see Aunt Wu, who had already removed her makeup. Her clothes were not neatly arranged, clearly indicating she had rushed over upon hearing the news.
She stepped forward and sat beside Zhou Shuyu, taking out a handkerchief to carefully dry her tear-stained face. The maid Xiaoyu had already fetched a copper basin of warm water and soaked a towel.
Aunt Wu took it, wiped all traces from Zhou Shuyu's face, then gently waved her hand, signaling the maid to attend to An Jieshan's washing.
"These maids are really something, disturbing you so late at night," Zhou Shuyu said apologetically.
Aunt Wu smiled. "Sister, please don't say that. Though I may not be capable of sharing your worries, I can at least offer some comfort. Heaven knows, sister, you have no idea—Chunliu rushed into my room in a panic, saying the master and mistress were crying in each other's arms. They were afraid you'd harm yourselves but didn't dare come in to console you, leaving them all at a loss."
As she spoke, An Jieshan had already washed his hands and face and said to Aunt Wu, "There's nothing more to be done here. You may go back now."
Though still concerned, Aunt Wu had no choice but to rise and leave.
The maids helped the couple undress and lie side by side in bed, neither in the mood to speak.
After a long while, Zhou Shuyu's voice broke the darkness: "The Lin family is also pitiable. With the head of the household gone, Sister Jia and her children are left as orphans and widows…"
The rest of the words concerned their own daughter's future, and Zhou Shuyu ultimately held them back. But An Jieshan understood that she had silently agreed, and he breathed a great sigh of relief.
He quietly took his wife's hand and said gently, "My lady, this is what I think. Brother Ruhai is only rushing to arrange the marriage because of his own impending fate. Let our two families first exchange Gengtie, but keep the engagement quiet for now.
Once Ruhai passes, Lady Jia will surely take her son to seek refuge with her maternal family, and it so happens our family will also be returning to the capital. When both families are in the capital, I'll take the Lin boy as my disciple and raise him as if he were my own son.
When the two children grow up, having spent years together and knowing each other well, if the Lin boy proves to be of good character and learning, and the Lin family still wishes to proceed with the marriage, we can revisit the matter then."
If the Lin boy turned out to be unworthy, he certainly wouldn't push his daughter into a pit of fire.
Zhou Shuyu couldn't help but mock herself: "Since we're going to maintain close ties with the Lin family anyway, why bother with such self-deception?"
If they were truly implicated, who knew what fate awaited their entire family? In the face of family turmoil, a marriage alliance between children seemed almost insignificant.
She thought of Jia Min again. When both families served as Hanlin scholars in the capital, they had been very close.
To be honest, if Lin Ruhai hadn't met with misfortune, Zhou Shuyu would have been more than willing for her daughter to become Jia Min's daughter-in-law.
She was a woman of poetic and convivial spirit, broad-minded and not as bound by rules as her mother, Grand Dowager Shi. How much less hardship would she endure as Jia Min's daughter-in-law?
Enough, enough!
Zhou Shuyu conceded to herself: for every gain there is a loss—how could one family monopolize all the good fortune?
"Sleep now," Zhou Shuyu said. "According to the yamen's Dibao, the new Buzheng Shi arrives tomorrow. You'll have plenty to keep you busy."
Author's note: