Leaning into his embrace, she sighed, a profound weariness in her voice. “Erlang, you know the plight of our third branch. What might be unthinkable for my uncle’s family in the Duke’s Mansion is, sadly, quite plausible for us. For us daughters, marriage isn’t about finding happiness; it’s about what our family can gain from the alliance.” Her tone was a bitter blend of self-deprecation and resignation, yet undeniably truthful.
Jia Weiyou, his heart aching for his wife, tightened his arms around her, as if to shield her from the harsh realities she spoke of. Shang Liu Niang’s eyes welled with tears as she continued. “Fourth sister was not so fortunate. She married a cruel man and endured endless suffering. I, however, am far luckier. I found you, husband, and my kind father-in-law and mother-in-law. You have all treated me with such warmth; I cannot possibly let you down.”
“What is happening today sounds incredibly unjust to Fourth Sister,” she confessed, wiping away her tears with a handkerchief, “but truly, this is the best path I could devise for her. If she enters the prince’s palace, at the very least, she will never again worry about food, clothing, or shelter. If the family were to arrange another marriage for her, she might well face a life of hardship once more.”
“So, I will speak with Fourth Sister myself, no matter how difficult it proves to be. I will do this for her, for my sister, and for the sake of our enduring life together, husband.” Shang Liu Niang’s words completely dissolved Jia Weiyou’s anxieties. He cherished his wife, and her earnest confession only deepened his affection. Without hesitation, he pledged, “Do not worry, Liu Niang. I will never fail you in this life. You have my sincere devotion.”
“Erlang…” Their exchange was a tender symphony of affection and vows, a testament to their profound bond.
Alas, poor Shang Siniang, residing in the Duke’s Mansion, remained utterly oblivious to the treacherous plot her own family was weaving against her—a truly sorrowful irony.
After a brief, intimate conversation with his wife, Jia Weiyou, having other matters to attend to, could not linger. With a farewell, he departed. Shang Liu Niang then instructed Ruyan, her personal maid, to bring water for her eyes. Such heartfelt tears, after all, always left their mark, as evidenced by her slightly red and swollen eyes. As the cool compress touched her skin, a faint sting prickled.
Ruyan, in a hushed voice, inquired, “Madam, do you truly intend to speak with Fourth Miss? Will it not cause trouble?”
A sneer twisted Shang Liu Niang’s lips. “Trouble? What trouble is there to fear? Since childhood, she has been utterly incapable of fighting for anything. She has always subsisted on my scraps, used my hand-me-downs. Now, I have even arranged this magnificent marriage for her. How could she not be grateful? Or does she, perhaps, intend to fight me?” Her tone dripped with disdain for Shang Siniang, exposing the utter farce of her earlier performance for Jia Weiyou.
Ruyan, at a loss for a reply, silently changed the compress. Shang Liu Niang, however, paid her little mind, her thoughts already consumed by how best to orchestrate her grand scheme. She envisioned a future where both the Jia family and her own maternal kin would gaze upon her with admiration and profound respect.
As the moon hung high, casting its ethereal glow upon a world hushed in slumber. The General’s carriage, bearing Shang Ji and Du Jingyi, clattered along the bluestone road, its rhythmic cadence a comforting sound as they returned to the Duke’s Mansion from the Du family home.
Du Jingyi, nestled within, felt a deep contentment. Dinner had been a joyous affair, and she had eaten heartily. Though tempted to linger longer, she knew it was not feasible. Yet, her mother’s words about the Temple visit remained firmly etched in her mind, and she pondered how best to broach the subject.
Then, Shang Ji’s deep voice cut through the quiet. “What’s wrong?”
Seizing the opportunity, Du Jingyi readily confessed her desire to visit Pingliang Temple with her parents and sister in the coming days. Shang Ji listened without objection, his response direct. “We’ll see when the time comes. If my duties permit, I will accompany you. Otherwise, a team of personal guards will escort you. Just be cautious when you are out.”
“The General… doesn’t object?” Du Jingyi asked, surprised.
“Why should I object?” Shang Ji’s brow furrowed slightly at her unexpected question. He clarified, “The Gu family maintains strict rules, but they never harshly criticize their own. I grew up within the Gu family, and I have no intention of adopting those superficial rules to deliberately constrain you. Currently, You are currently occupied with the move, but once we are settled in the General’s Mansion, you may go wherever and whenever you please, provided you prioritize your safety.”
His words genuinely altered Du Jingyi’s perception of him, this disciple of the formidable Gu family. She had always imagined that such a renowned lineage would be bound by rigid traditions, and that the women of the inner quarters would face severe restrictions. But this revelation tonight was truly unexpected. Shang Ji had previously mentioned sending a Nanny Qin to guide her behavior, which she had assumed would be a form of restraint. Now, it seemed, she could relax a little earlier than anticipated.
A smile blossomed on Du Jingyi’s face, her brows relaxing considerably. “In that case, I understand. Thank you for your trust, General. I will certainly be mindful.”
“Mm.”
Perhaps it was the warmth of the night, or perhaps Du Jingyi felt a natural inclination to foster conversation between them, but she then turned the topic to the Jia family and king Min’s Palace. As she spoke of King Min’s Mansion, a flicker of disdain crossed Shang Ji’s eyes. Bound by decorum, he could not speak ill directly, but he offered Du Jingyi a stern warning.
“The waters in King Min’s Palace run deep. If you cannot navigate them, it is best not to get involved. The Jia family believes that aligning with them will be a shortcut to power. Be careful that not even their bones are left once King Min’s Palace has used them!”
Shang Ji understood the ruthless nature of power better than anyone. His words prompted Du Jingyi to pay even closer attention. Yet, after careful consideration, she felt it best to voice her true thoughts, believing that open communication would prevent suspicion and estrangement between husband and wife. This transparency, she reasoned, would simplify their interactions.
“General,” she began candidly, “I have a strong feeling that this matter, involving Jia family , will eventually tie back to the third branch, irrevocably linking them. If this is not handled carefully, I fear the palace will perceive it as an affront from the Duke’s Mansion itself, not merely the Jia family.”
“Hmph,” Shang Ji scoffed, entirely devoid of any defensive tone. “That’s hardly a novel idea. They, too, must endure the bloody storm brewing outside, so they hide within their walls, content to feast on others’ blood.”