Chapter Six: Brutality

Behind the county office, the rear courtyard was decorated with lanterns and streamers.

In the main courtyard along the central axis, at the southwestern corner, a green tent had been erected according to the customs of the northern lands. After the bride entered the household, she would step onto a felt carpet laid along her path and enter the green tent, where the wedding rites such as bowing to Heaven and Earth would take place.

This was the so-called “Green Tent Ceremony.”

The Wang family’s servant women, dressed in brand-new clothes, bustled about attending to guests. Though their faces did not exactly beam with joy, their spirits were lively—for their master had married a daughter from the Cui family, thus forming familial ties with the Yangs, the Lous, and other military families of repute.

With this connection, in troubled times, the Wang family’s fortunes could only rise. And when the master’s house flourished, so too would the lives of those who served within it.

Unlike a few months prior, when the Wangs had been forced to return to their old home, besieged by rebels in their fortified manor. To escape that peril, Lord Wang Lin had given away wealth, sent beautiful maids as gifts, and in the end... even his own wife—ah, better left unsaid!

This matter was a closely guarded secret in the Wang household. Not only the servants, but even the masters themselves dared not speak of it. There were whispers among the lesser sons while at the manor, but those who gossiped were soon separated from the family.

When the gentleman came to take office in Hedong County, he did not bring any of those illegitimate sons with him. From then on, those branches would fade into mere distant kin, destined for decline.

Such decisiveness toward his own half-brothers showed just how much of a taboo “that matter” was for Lord Wang.

But enough idle talk. On this joyous day, the wedding deserved more attention.

Before dusk, Wang Lin welcomed his new bride into his home.

She entered the green tent, and the wedding rites commenced.

Wang Lin was a striking figure; with his handsome visage and refined demeanor, none could have guessed he was a man entering a second marriage.

The new bride, Lady Cui, held a round fan, hiding her features completely. Though her face was concealed, her elegant coiffure and slender form suggested that, even if she was not a peerless beauty, she was by no means plain.

But to Wang Lin, these things were unimportant. He had already had the most beautiful of wives and was past the age of being captivated by mere beauty.

Now, as he took a new wife, so long as she was not hideous, he could tolerate it. What he sought was never simply a woman, but the family and influence behind her, and the benefits they could bring.

First bow to Heaven and Earth!

Second bow to the parents!

Husband and wife, bow to each other!

The ceremony thus concluded.

With the solemn part at an end, friends and family began to tease and jest, adding to the festive air of the wedding.

Amidst the revelry, Wang Lin recited a poem to the fan.

“Is the new bride satisfied?”

Someone led the crowd in playful encouragement.

Others laughed and chimed in.

If the groom’s poem to the fan pleased the bride, she would remove her fan and reveal her face. If not, the groom would have to try again.

Of course, this was all in good fun. Unless the bride was unhappy with the marriage itself, even if she disliked the poem, she would still remove the fan as custom dictated.

As expected, while guests and relatives in the green tent were still making merry, Lady Cui had already lowered her fan.

She lifted her head, a radiant floral crown upon her brow, golden hairpins and dangling ornaments glimmering at her temples—her head was adorned with jewels, dazzling and magnificent.

Wang Lin’s gaze fell upon Lady Cui’s face, and he was momentarily stunned.

Her looks were not merely passable—they were lovely.

Yet her beauty differed from that of his first wife, Lady Jiang.

Lady Jiang had been ethereal and noble, as if Chang’e herself had descended from the moon.

Lady Cui, on the other hand, had high, slender brows and phoenix eyes, a straight nose, and a hint of prominent cheekbones, giving her an air of sharpness.

Her mouth, not the cherry lips so adored by poets, was fuller and painted a vivid red.

Bright and bold, she was like the most vibrant peony in bloom.

Her features bore traces of foreign blood—her face was striking and forceful, lacking the gentle elegance of Han women.

Wang Lin could not tell if he felt pleased or disappointed. He lowered his eyes for a moment... but he had prepared himself for this. He had not married Lady Cui for her beauty, but for her family’s support.

A wise man seeks a worthy wife.

If he truly desired a beauty to his liking, he could always take a concubine!

With these thoughts, Wang Lin raised his head again, his gentle eyes now tinged with joy and tenderness.

Seeing the affectionate, handsome groom before her—though older by several years, though this was his second marriage—Lady Cui’s cheeks flushed with shyness.

This gentleman of the Wang family was indeed as handsome and distinguished as she had imagined her ideal husband to be.

With love on one side and affection on the other, those still present in the green tent became superfluous.

Yet none were lacking in tact; seeing the bride and groom in such harmony, they all exchanged knowing smiles and quietly withdrew, leaving the couple to continue the rites in private.

Among the crowd, an eight- or nine-year-old girl squeezed her way out and hurried to the eastern courtyard.

“Ninth Miss! Ninth Miss!”

As soon as she entered the west wing, Bai Zhi called out repeatedly.

“Bai Zhi, what’s the matter? Weren’t you helping in the main courtyard?”

Wang Heng, cheeks puffed as she chewed on a cherry pastry, swallowed before asking curiously.

Madam Fu, who attended Wang Heng, frowned slightly. “Bai Zhi, you mustn’t shout so.”

“Oh, Madam Fu, is this really the time to worry about manners?” This was urgent!

“...Is there some issue with the new bride or the lady of the house?”

Madam Fu, being older, could tell from Bai Zhi’s tone that she must have seen something in the green tent.

“The new lady is incredibly beautiful! Even the master was stunned!”

Bai Zhi’s words were tinged with clear anxiety.

With the previous mistress gone and the master remarried, and with the new lady so lovely, it was obvious the master was very pleased.

Then... what would become of their Ninth Miss?

There was a world of difference between a favored and an unfavored stepmother.

Bai Zhi was young, but after two or three years in the inner quarters, she had seen plenty of wives and concubines vying for favor, and the battles between legitimate and illegitimate offspring.

She knew all too well the intrigue and filth that lurked behind these deep mansion walls.

“Oh!”

But Wang Heng seemed unconcerned.

A newly arrived stepmother was far less important than the food in her hand.

Cherries picked in May, simmered into jam, used as filling for cherry pastries.

A thin skin, rich filling, the fragrance of wheat in the pastry, the sweet and tart taste of cherries.

A bite burst with flavor, and Wang Heng was thoroughly satisfied.

Bai Zhi stared, her own heart racing, as her mistress leisurely ate and ate.

Was this cherry pastry really that delicious?

Wait, no, that wasn’t the point.

The point was, Ninth Miss seemed to have developed quite the appetite recently.

Her chubby, round little face seemed to have grown even plumper after days of eating.

Though still exquisitely cute, like a golden child in a festive tableau, in the Zhou Dynasty’s aesthetic, thinness was prized—even for children, being too fat was a source of ridicule.

“Ninth Miss! Did you not hear what I just said?”

Collecting her thoughts, Bai Zhi turned back to the subject of the new stepmother, Lady Cui.

She was now Ninth Miss’s stepmother, and in all history, how many stepmothers were truly kind to the children of the first wife?

Why was Ninth Miss not worried at all?

“I heard you!”

Having finished the last cherry pastry, Wang Heng still seemed unsatisfied.

She licked her fingers—some of the filling had dripped out, staining her plump little fingertips red, and she quickly cleaned them off.

Madam Fu’s brow twitched; this Ninth Miss was truly lacking in decorum.

“So, you’re not worried at all?”

“Not at all. There’s still the Grand Madam!”

Wang Heng always said she was not clever, but she had the keen instincts of a small animal.

The Grand Madam might not like her, but she would not necessarily like a daughter-in-law who pleased her son either.

Lady Jiang had not pleased Mistress Xie; Lady Cui might not, either.

“Besides, when Father brought me here a few days ago, he told the Grand Madam that she would look after me from now on.”

Wang Heng would not go to Lady Cui’s quarters or draw her attention.

If she stayed out of Lady Cui’s way, Lady Cui should have no cause to trouble her.

Wang Heng, however, underestimated the complexity and malice of human nature. She hid in Mistress Xie’s courtyard, not seeking out Lady Cui.

But Lady Cui still found her presence superfluous.

Moreover, Lady Cui’s methods were neither subtle nor roundabout, but direct and harsh, unlike the usual intrigue of inner chambers...

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