Early morning at Anle Residence.
The morning light filtered through the window lattice, casting mottled shadows on the floor.
Those shadows shifted slowly, silently, carrying the unique gentleness and laziness of spring, filling the room with a bright, warm glow.
Pei Cijing stood in the center of the bedroom.
Eyes closed.
Arms outstretched.
Allowing Shen Ninghuan to fuss over him.
Today was the Qionglin Banquet, a grand feast held by the Ministry of Rites to honor the newly minted imperial scholars. The occasion was of the highest importance—there was no room for carelessness. Shen Ninghuan had risen before dawn, meticulously ironing the clothes he would wear today, not letting a single crease on the waistband go unnoticed.
At this moment, she was bent over, tightening the pale blue sash around his waist. Her slender fingers moved deftly and gracefully. Once finished, she stepped back to inspect her work, then stepped forward again to straighten his collar, tug at the hem of his robe, and adjust the brand-new scholar’s cap until it sat just right.
“My wife,” Pei Cijing opened one eye, a faint smile tugging at the corner of his lips, “you’ve already fixed me three times.”
Shen Ninghuan’s hands never paused, but she lifted her eyes and gave him a cool glance.
That look clearly said — What do you know?
Sensing her meaning, Pei Cijing wisely closed his eyes again, obediently spreading his arms once more to let her continue.
“The Qionglin Banquet isn’t an ordinary gathering,” Shen Ninghuan said softly as she adjusted the sash at his waist. “Though the emperor himself may not attend, the presiding ministers and fellow scholars will all be watching. You’re the newly crowned Tanhua—many eyes will be on you. If your clothes aren’t perfect, no one will say it’s your attire that’s at fault; they’ll say the Hou Mansion lacks discipline.”
She paused, her tone growing more earnest. “We can’t let anyone look down on us.”
Listening to her gentle admonition, Pei Cijing felt a warm glow in his heart. His wife always thought of everything so thoroughly, even worrying about whether a wrinkle in his clothes might invite ridicule.
“Don’t worry, wife.” He opened his eyes, gazing at her clear, lovely face with a smile. “I’ll be on my best behavior today. I’ll never embarrass you.”
Shen Ninghuan curved her lips into a small smile, then straightened his hat one last time before nodding in satisfaction.
“All set.”
Pei Cijing looked down at his attire.
He truly was the most handsome man alive!
With that, he spread his arms wide and spun around in front of his wife, pride coloring his voice, “How do I look? Is the Tanhua not the most dashing gentleman?”
Shen Ninghuan watched his boastful display.
She couldn’t help but cover her mouth and laugh softly.
“Mm!” she nodded, her tone indulgent, “My husband is the most handsome.”
Pei Cijing chuckled twice.
Together, they stepped out of the bedroom, passing through the corridor on their way to the main gate of the Hou Mansion.
The morning light was just right. In the courtyard, the wisteria vine had sprouted tender green buds, clusters of flower buds plump and ready, waiting for a spring breeze to burst into a flood of blossoms. A few sparrows chirped merrily in the branches, adding a lively soundtrack to the spring day.
At the gate of the Hou Mansion.
The carriage was already prepared.
Before parting, Pei Cijing turned to Shen Ninghuan and gently pecked her forehead. “Wife, I’m off now.”
Shen Ninghuan gently brushed the nonexistent dust off his shoulder and softly said, "Go ahead, be careful on the road."
Pei Cijing jumped onto the carriage.
He lifted the carriage curtain.
Waved at Shen Ninghuan.
Shen Ninghuan stood inside the threshold, the morning light falling on her, dyeing her in a warm shade of orange.
She gave him a slight smile, a smile so light, yet like the warmest breeze of spring, softening the heart.
"Go early and come back early," she whispered.
Pei Cijing nodded firmly.
He lowered the carriage curtain.
The carriage wheels clattered as it rolled out of the alley, turned the long street, and gradually disappeared into the morning light.
Shen Ninghuan stood at the doorway, watching the carriage fade away until it was out of sight. Only then did she withdraw her gaze and looked at the empty alley. Suddenly, a thought surfaced in her heart—
The Qionglin Banquet.
The imperial examinations had four banquets: Luming, Qionglin, Yingyang, and Huiwu.
The Luming Banquet was for the new scholars of the civil examination, Yingyang for the new martial exam candidates, Huiwu for the new martial degree holders, and the Qionglin Banquet, also called the Xiweng Banquet or the Enrong Banquet, was a special feast granted to the new civil degree holders.
Though the banquet was an imperial bestowment, by tradition, the emperor himself did not attend but usually sent a high-ranking official to preside over it. However, this was not the important part.
What mattered was—
The Qionglin Banquet was of the highest prestige.
To demonstrate the court’s respect for scholars, every dish was personally prepared by the palace chefs. The palace orchestra played lively music, with strings and woodwinds, creating an atmosphere of utmost honor and splendor.
Shen Ninghuan remembered this clearly.
At the last palace banquet, although her husband did not say it aloud, she knew he was deeply disappointed. After all, he had fasted the entire day, preparing to feast at the banquet.
To taste, even once, the legendary skills of the imperial chefs.
But alas—
The Crown Prince’s coup plunged the palace into chaos, swords flashing and blood flowing like rivers.
What should have been a grand feast turned into a scene of carnage.
Her gluttonous husband hadn’t tasted a single bite.
Afterward, she could see clearly how gloomy and downcast he was, and she often found herself muttering repeatedly—“That roast suckling pig, its skin golden brown and crispy, the aroma wafting from afar… such a pity, such a pity.”
Thinking of this, Shen Ninghuan couldn’t help but curve her lips slightly.
She hoped that at today’s Qionglin Banquet—
There would be roast suckling pig again!
At the very least, she wanted her husband to enjoy a proper meal this time, to make up for the regret of last time. She withdrew her gaze and turned to walk back into the mansion.
...
At Anle Residence, in the study.
When Shen Ninghuan pushed open the door, the morning light already filled the room with brightness.
The narcissus on the windowsill had long since withered and been replaced by a newly bloomed orchid. Its slender leaves stretched out, glossy and smooth, glowing softly in the sunlight. The faint fragrance of orchids mingled with the scent of ink, spreading throughout the room with an elegant and refined air.
She sat down behind the writing desk and took out a thick ledger from the drawer.
This was the account book for the second branch of the family.
Since her marriage, Madam Zhou had entrusted Shen Ninghuan with managing the second branch’s finances.
It wasn’t that Madam Zhou was lazy; rather, this daughter-in-law was simply too capable—keeping the accounts neat and clear, tallying income and expenses meticulously, even more organized than when Madam Zhou managed them herself.
Madam Zhou was delighted to have a carefree life and had completely let go of the responsibility.
Shen Ninghuan flipped open the ledger and carefully reviewed it page by page. Every income, expense, and balance for the month was recorded clearly and meticulously.
The biggest source of income remained the dividends from the Zhou family’s maritime trade. This time, her third uncle, Zhou Dahe, brought in a bonus that was twenty percent higher than last year.
The harvest from the fields and the rent from the shops had also been collected on time.
On the expense side, daily costs, the monthly wages for maids and servants, and social obligations—all were accounted for with fixed amounts.
She studied the accounts attentively, occasionally making neat annotations in the ledger with her delicate, elegant handwriting. After finishing, she closed the book and leaned back in her chair, her gaze drifting to the wisteria vine outside the window.
New shoots had already sprouted.
Tender and green.
Swaying gently in the morning light, her thoughts began to wander…
Ever since marrying into the Marquis’s household, her days had been quiet and secluded.
First, her husband was preparing for the imperial examinations.
She knew his nature well—he was undeniably intelligent, but his laziness outweighed anyone else’s. Without someone to keep him on track, he could easily spend an entire day lying on the couch reading leisure books, even finding it troublesome to get up for meals.
To keep such a man steadily studying over the long haul,
her companionship was indispensable.
So whenever Pei Cijing was immersed in his studies, she was usually by his side.
When he wrote essays, she would read nearby or do needlework.
When he grew tired and wanted to slack off, she would bring him a cup of warm tea and softly say, “Husband, just write a little longer—finish this section, then you can rest.”
When he became restless while writing, she would gently massage his temples and whisper, “No rush, take your time.”
During those days, she was like an anchor, calming his restless heart and guiding it back to the desk, step by step.
Second, after Cheng Lu arrived at the mansion, settling her in required considerable care.
From arranging the furnishings in Jing’an Courtyard, to selecting maids and housekeepers, to overseeing daily routines—every detail needed her personal attention.
Cheng Lu was new and her status delicate; she tread carefully, afraid of causing trouble for the Marquis’s household. Shen Ninghuan noticed this and often visited Jing’an Courtyard to keep her company, chat with her, teach her sewing skills, and help her gradually adjust to life in the mansion.
Fortunately, Cheng Lu was gentle and simple-minded, and the two got along very well. After a few months, Cheng Lu already regarded her as a dear sister, willing to share any worries or secrets.
These two matters
had taken up nearly all her time.
Thinking back, ever since marrying, she had hardly left the house. Those past friendships and social connections had grown distant.
But now,
she could start planning again.
Her husband had passed the imperial examination as the third-ranked candidate, the "tanhua." According to the customs of the Great Qian dynasty, the top three candidates in the first class were exempt from the court examination and would be directly appointed to official posts. The champion would be granted the rank of junior sixth-grade compiler at the Hanlin Academy, while the second and third place—like her husband—would become seventh-grade editors at the same academy.
Once he entered the Hanlin Academy,
he would begin his official duties,
heading out early and returning late every day.
Her days would then have much more free time, and perhaps she could reunite with the young ladies she had been close to before.
Like Jiang Tian.
That girl was innocent and carefree, with a simple heart. The last time they met at the flower viewing gathering, she was sent by her mother to inquire about her brother’s marriage. The way she looked, both shy and embarrassed, still makes Shen Ninghuan smile whenever she thinks back.
And then there’s Gu Ruoli.
This soon-to-be sister-in-law—Shen Ninghuan had only met her once, but the impression was unforgettable.
Under the Fate Tree at Qingyun Temple, Gu Ruoli pressed a short knife to her brother’s throat and said, “In Shuzhou, if you stand a lady up, you get the knife.”
That aura, that sharp decisiveness, made Shen Ninghuan silently admire her at the moment.
Later, when her brother was dragged by the collar by Gu Ruoli to have his fortune told, his helpless expression made her laugh for quite a while.
A woman like this, paired with her serious and earnest brother, was quite an interesting match.
Speaking of which, her brother and Gu Ruoli’s wedding was set for August, only a few months away. As his sister, both out of duty and affection, she should make an effort to spend more time with this soon-to-be sister-in-law and build their relationship.
She knew her brother’s temperament better than anyone—methodical in everything he did, straightforward and blunt in speech, and once he made up his mind, nothing could change it.
Such a personality might not be bad, but as a husband, it left something to be desired.
She had to lend him a hand.
With a slight smile playing on her lips, Shen Ninghuan was just thinking about which day to pick to send a formal invitation to Gu Ruoli for a visit—
A soft knock came from outside the door.
“Second Young Madam,” came the voice of the maid Qiuyue, “Concubine Shen requests to see you. She says it’s important.”
Shen Ninghuan paused slightly.
Concubine Shen.
Shen Ningyue.
Her younger sister. Ever since marrying into the Marquis’s household as a concubine, the two had barely interacted.
It wasn’t that Shen Ninghuan deliberately kept her distance; rather, Shen Ningyue herself avoided her. On the rare occasions they crossed paths in the mansion, Shen Ningyue would lower her head, offer a hurried greeting, and quickly walk away, as if afraid to linger even a moment longer.
Naturally, Shen Ninghuan never made an effort to approach her.
Though sisters by blood, they had long since become strangers.
Last night, when Shen Ningyue was found to be pregnant at the mansion’s gate, Shen Ninghuan didn’t go over to congratulate her—not out of petty jealousy, but mainly because Pei Ciling had yet to formally take a wife. A concubine getting pregnant first—whether it was good or bad—was hard to say.
But today—
Shen Ningyue actually took the initiative to ask for a meeting?
Shen Ninghuan frowned slightly, pondering for a moment.
If Shen Ningyue intended to cause trouble by relying on the child in her womb, that would be foolish.
Not to mention she was just a concubine with no money and no status—she couldn’t stir up any real trouble. Even if she tried, who in the entire Marquis’s household would side with her?
Last night, when Shen Ningyue heard the news of her pregnancy at the mansion gate, the look on her face wasn’t joy, but fear.
She was scared!
Her heart was filled with worry over whether the child would survive.
Having spent so long in the Marquis’s household, she should have already realized her situation clearly. So if she came today, it probably wasn’t to make a scene.
After a moment’s thought, Shen Ninghuan nodded: “Let her in.”
Qiuyue responded softly, and the footsteps gradually faded away.
Before long, footsteps sounded again outside the door. They were light, hesitant, and cautious, pausing briefly at the threshold before stepping inside.
When Shen Ningyue stepped into the study, Shen Ninghuan was seated behind the writing desk, holding a cup of tea. She gently stirred the foam on the surface with the lid, her expression calm and composed.
Today, she wore a slightly worn robe—its fabric still decent, but the style was last year’s. Her hair was pinned up with only two plain silver hairpins, devoid of any extra adornments. This was a far cry from the Shen Ninghuan who once loved dressing up and being the center of attention.
Shen Ningyue stood by the door, her gaze fixed on Shen Ninghuan.
Morning light streamed through the window lattice, bathing Shen Ninghuan in a soft glow that made her look radiant and almost translucent. Her hair was loosely tied up, adorned with a single white jade hairpin.
Her attire was no more splendid than hers, yet there was an effortless elegance about her—a refined aura that seemed to emanate from her very bones, impossible to conceal.
She still shone brightly.
No.
She was even more dazzling than before.
A wave of bitterness rose in Shen Ningyue’s heart. She had once believed that Shen Ninghuan’s good fortune was because she married into the main branch of the Hou family, because she became the Heir’s wife.
But now?
Shen Ninghuan had married into the second branch—Pei Cijing, who everyone considered a good-for-nothing.
In terms of family status, the second branch was inferior to the main; in prospects, Pei Cijing had no official rank at the time of their marriage and was miles behind the Heir, Pei Ciling.
Yet Shen Ninghuan’s life was still enviable.
Pei Cijing studied hard for the imperial exams for her sake and eventually earned the rank of third place scholar; her mother-in-law, Madam Zhou, treated her like her own daughter and even entrusted her with managing the household accounts; the matriarch respected her, and no one in the Hou family dared to look down on her.
She still lived a life of unbounded glory.
All of this was not because she married well, but because she had the ability to make her life flourish.
The facts were right before her eyes.
How could she still fail to see it?
Perhaps she should have realized this long ago. Had she understood sooner, would she have made those foolish choices? Would she have tried to snatch that seemingly golden marriage that she thought would turn her life around?
Alas.
There are no “ifs.”
Shen Ningyue lowered her eyes, suppressing the tumultuous thoughts within her. She had not come today to complain, nor to cause trouble, and certainly not to act arrogantly because of the child in her womb.
She had a request.
Taking a deep breath, she did not perform the usual formal kowtow. Instead, she bent her knees and knelt straight down, her knees pressing against the cold floor with a dull thud.
She bowed her head until her forehead touched the icy bricks, her voice trembling with barely contained emotion—
“Please, sister, guide me through this maze!”
The study fell into silence.
So quiet that one could hear the wisteria outside gently swaying in the breeze, the soft whispers of maids down the corridor, and the faint sound of tea swirling in the cup…
