“Careful? Why don’t you just say outright that you want to arrange another marriage for her?”
“You see right through us, sister-in-law. That is precisely what we mean.”
No sooner had the words been spoken than the crisp sound of a teacup shattering on the ground rang out.
The maids from First Madam Cheng’s courtyard hurried out in a flurry, and soon the yard was left with only each party’s personal attendants, who stood by the door with bowed heads, holding their breath in silence.
A heavy silence fell over the room as they stared at the shattered teacup on the floor.
“The marriage has already been settled—how can we go back on our word?” First Master Cheng said sternly.
“In truth, as long as the bridal sedan hasn’t entered the groom’s house, the engagement isn’t truly final.” Second Madam Cheng replied, smiling at First Master Cheng. “Brother, surely you also want our Jiao-niang to marry into a good family, don’t you?”
“A promise is worth a thousand pieces of gold—how can it not be settled? Should we break our word just because a better match comes along? What kind of behavior is that?” First Master Cheng retorted, turning to Second Master Cheng with displeasure. “Is this your idea?”
Second Master Cheng lowered his gaze.
“Matters of marriage should be handled with caution…” he began.
Before he could finish, First Master Cheng slammed his hand on the armrest beside him in fury. The black-lacquered sandalwood armrest toppled to the ground with a dull thud.
Everyone in the room flinched in fright.
“To be obstinately rigid in keeping one’s word and seeing actions through—such is the way of petty men!” First Master Cheng thundered, his brows drawn sharp in fury. “Cheng Dong, do you realize what you are doing?”
This was likely the first time in his life that Second Master Cheng had seen his elder brother so enraged. Alarm flashed across his face, and his first instinct was to straighten his posture and bow in apology—but Second Madam Cheng reached out to stop him.
“Brother, Er-lang knows full well what he is doing,” she said, her expression trembling on the verge of tears. “This is no public affair—it is a family matter. He acts for the sake of his daughter. Is that not the most natural sentiment of parenthood?”
Thus steadied, Second Master Cheng straightened, then bowed deeply.
“Indeed,” he said. “It is only for Jiao-niang’s sake that I am compelled to this.”
First Madam Cheng gave a cold laugh upon hearing this.
“For his daughter?” she said, her tone laced with bitter amusement, as if she’d heard a ridiculous joke—yet beneath it simmered fury she could no longer suppress. “If he truly cared for his daughter, why wait until now? What this is really about—you know it well, and so does everyone else.”
“What exactly do you mean by that?” Second Madam Cheng burst into delicate sobs, dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “As her stepmother, I hardly dare bear such accusations!”
She clutched at Second Master Cheng’s sleeve.
“Er-lang, I can no longer involve myself in Jiao-niang’s marriage affairs. After all, I’m just an outsider—what right do I have to speak?”
“Nonsense! You are her stepmother—that makes you her mother,” Second Master Cheng said stiffly, squaring his shoulders. “Brother, is it so wrong for me to want my Jiao-niang to marry into a good family?”
“Er-lang!” First Madam Cheng’s face turned ashen with rage. “Are you implying the Wang family is not a good match?”
“Compared to the Qin family? Naturally, it pales,” Second Madam Cheng sniffed, leisurely drying her tears with her handkerchief.
So that’s it! Yesterday’s outing wasn’t for buying fabric—it was to sell off your daughter!
First Madam Cheng’s lips curled into a frosty smile as she fixed her gaze on Second Madam Cheng.
“Though our Wang family may not compare to the Qins, we are not to be trifled with,” she said icily. “The betrothal is settled. Let’s see if the Qin family dares bear the infamy of breaking a pledged marriage!”
First Master Cheng’s face darkened. After a sharp glance at Second Madam Cheng, he turned to Second Master Cheng.
“Has the mere mention of the Qin name robbed you of all reason? You call them a ‘good family’—but have you asked yourself why such a family would ever ally with ours?” he thundered. “Have you let a woman’s whispers cloud your judgment so thoroughly that you’d act with such recklessness?”
Second Master Cheng’s expression flickered with doubt.
Yes—now that he thought of it, something didn’t add up.
“Brother, you also feel—” he began eagerly, but before he could finish, Second Madam Cheng suddenly let out a wail, covered her face, and collapsed to the floor in a dramatic heap.
“I can’t go on living like this! If I’m nothing but a scheming shrew, Er-lang, just divorce me! Cast me out!” she sobbed, pounding her chest.
The three members of the Cheng family—having never in their lives witnessed such a theatrical display of hysterics—stood frozen in shock, utterly at a loss.
“You—what on earth are you doing?” First Madam Cheng cried out.
“Disgraceful! Absolutely disgraceful!” Elder Master Cheng’s face turned livid as he flung his sleeve in disgust. “And you claim to come from a scholarly family—look at yourself!”
But Second Madam Cheng only rolled on the floor, wailing louder.
“Since I’m already being called a Daji or Baosi—a venomous temptress poisoning your ears—what use is there pretending to be cultured? Er-lang, divorce me! I’ve no face left to stay here! I—I can’t even return home in shame, I—”
Sobbing, she pushed herself up and glanced wildly around.
“I might as well die! Better that than tarnish the Cheng family’s honor!”
With that, she scrambled to her feet and lunged headfirst toward the nearest pillar.
First Madam Cheng reacted with swift reflexes, catching her just in time—her heart a turmoil of panic, fury, and mortification.
“Have you lost your mind?!” she snapped, raising her hand and delivering a sharp slap across Second Madam Cheng’s face.
The crisp sound of the slap silenced the room.
Second Madam Cheng, her hair disheveled and robes in disarray, clutched her cheek in stunned disbelief. Even First Madam Cheng herself seemed dazed, staring at her own hand as if in a trance.
She had imagined this moment countless times—in her heart, in her dreams—striking that face with righteous fury. And now, it had actually happened…
“Y-you—what kind of spectacle is this?!” she forced out, struggling to regain composure.
If she ruins the fool’s marriage alliance, she ruins our future—she ruins Qi–niang’s prospects! If anyone dared sabotage Qi–niang’s betrothal, I’d fight them to the death!
This woman—always playing the gentle, virtuous elder sister, basking in privileges that rightfully belonged to the Second Branch, accepting their deference as her due. And what did she ever receive in return? Scraps of kindness, tossed her way only when the elder was in good humor—and even then, she was expected to grovel with gratitude, lest she be branded ungrateful or ill-mannered!
Was this to be her life forever? Forever subordinate, forever shackled?
Why?! Why must it be this way?!
“Wang Shi-niang, how dare you strike me!”
Second Madam Cheng raised her hand and retaliated with a vicious slap. First Madam Cheng barely managed to dodge, but the blow still grazed her temple, sending hairpins clattering to the floor.
A scream tore through the room. The maids outside could no longer pretend not to notice—they rushed in, shouting and pleading in panic as they tried to separate the two women now locked in a furious struggle.
The two Cheng men stood dumbfounded, jostled helplessly in the chaos. An armrest was kicked over; teacups shattered underfoot. The room filled with wails, shouts, and shrieks.
How had things escalated so suddenly? What in the world was happening?
In the courtyard of Old Madam Cheng’s residence, Lady Fu stepped out of the house and immediately noticed several maidservants whispering furtively by the gate. She cleared her throat loudly, watching as the startled women quickly scattered apart.
“What are you sneaking around for?” Lady Fu demanded in a low voice, her face stern.
The maids exchanged uneasy glances.
“Lady Fu,” one finally spoke up hesitantly, clearly torn about whether to continue.
“Out with it,” Lady Fu frowned.
“The First Madam and Second Madam… they seem to be fighting…” the woman whispered.
Fighting?
Lady Fu’s eyes widened in shock.
This must be some kind of joke?
“It’s true—the commotion over there is terrible… Should we inform the Old Madam?” the maid ventured.
Before Lady Fu could respond, a voice spoke from behind them.
“Inform me of what?”
The women startled and whirled around to see an elderly woman standing beneath the corridor, a bowl in her hands.
She was in her sixties, her hair entirely white, dressed in dark blue robes. Her face was gaunt, her expression grave. As she surveyed the courtyard, she raised the bowl and took a sip of broth.
Lady Fu and the others hurried forward a few steps.
“Noth—” Lady Fu began, but Old Madam Cheng cut her off with a single barked command.
“Speak!”
“The First Madam and the Second Madam are fighting,” Lady Fu said without hesitation.
Old Madam Cheng’s eyes bulged.
“Wha—” she choked out—then stopped abruptly.
The bowl slipped from her fingers and shattered on the ground. Her hands flew to her throat, her eyes widening impossibly further as she let out strangled, wordless gasps—before her body stiffened and she toppled backward.
“Old Madam!”
“Someone—quick, fetch the doctor!”
“Old Madam! Old Madam!”
The courtyard erupted into chaos.
While the usually dignified and quiet Cheng family descended into chaos, the normally noisy and disorderly Southern Cheng branch was unusually calm.
An elderly man approached respectfully as the young lady seated herself before a simple thatched hut.
“My lady, we truly apologize—we still haven’t found him,” he said with evident unease.
“He hasn’t returned?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
The old man nodded.
“We’ve searched the entire street,” he replied. “No one knows where he’s hiding—it’s as if he’s vanished completely.”
“This has happened before,” someone nearby chimed in. “He disappears for days at a time, then suddenly reappears.”
Cheng Jiao-niang turned her gaze toward them.
“Yes, yes, that little swindler… Cheng Ping has done this before,” another person chimed in, nodding. “Whenever he stirs up trouble, he disappears for a while, only to come back later like nothing happened.”
“Could it be that he won’t return this time?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked. “Wasn’t it said that he wasn’t originally from the Cheng family?”
“Whether he’s truly a Cheng or not—that’s hard to say,” the old man explained. “The boy showed up a year ago, claiming his father or grandfather was from our family. He said they’d left to make a living elsewhere but always longed for their ancestral home, so Cheng Ping came back to seek his roots. That’s the story he gave First Master Cheng, at least. Who knows what proof he had—but the master believed him and let him stay.”
“Where did he come from?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
The Southern Cheng branch had clearly paid little attention to this outsider who had adopted their surname—no one had ever cared much about Cheng Ping’s origins. But after yesterday’s shocking display of generosity, the old man had evidently taken the trouble to investigate thoroughly.
“Shu-zhou,” he answered without hesitation.
Cheng Jiao-niang remained perfectly still and said nothing more.
Her silence left the others too uneasy to speak, and the surroundings grew utterly quiet.
“I see.”
It might have been a long pause, or perhaps just a breath—but finally, she spoke.
Everyone present exhaled in relief, the tension dissolving at once.
“Then…?” the old man ventured cautiously.
“Keep searching, and wait patiently,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, finishing his thought.
Steward Cao immediately stepped forward, offering another pouch of coins.
“For your trouble,” he said.
More money? The old man’s hands trembled, but he didn’t dare accept it.
“We couldn’t possibly—” he stammered. “Please, let us find him first, then reward us.”
Steward Cao glanced at Cheng Jiao-niang. Seeing no further instruction, he didn’t insist and quietly put the pouch away.
“Very well. You’ll be duly compensated when there’s news,” he said.
The old man bowed repeatedly in thanks, but the figure before him showed no sign of leaving. Cheng Jiao-niang remained seated, motionless as ever.
“My lady, you see…” the old man began hesitantly.
“I’d like to sit here for a while,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, raising her head to look at him. “I won’t be disturbing you, will I?”
The old man hastily waved his hands – as if to say not only was sitting no trouble, she could stay as long as she wished without being any disturbance at all.
The surrounding crowd gradually dispersed. After a moment’s hesitation, Steward Cao also gestured for his attendants to step back, creating a small clearing in this cramped, cluttered space for Cheng Jiao-niang, who remained seated perfectly composed on the wooden stump.
“Is she alright?” someone finally couldn’t help but ask in a hushed voice.
Steward Cao gazed at the motionless young lady who sat like a stone statue. Her hood had been pulled up by Ban Qin, the dark, oversized cloak pooling heavily on the ground around her. The sunlight shone brightly, yet upon her figure, it seemed to carry no warmth whatsoever.
She sat like this, as if prepared to sit until the seas ran dry and the rocks crumbled to dust, until heaven and earth grew old.
Alright? How could she possibly be alright!
Steward Cao shook his head. But who could fathom the unfathomable depths of this peculiar young lady’s mind?
Whatever she wished to do, he would let her do. Steward Cao straightened his posture, his expression composed and steady.
