Chapter 6: Remarriage

Days passed, neither hurried nor slow.

Since that day, Meng Yunshao had taken great care with the soups she prepared for He Zhiyu, constantly changing the recipes to keep him pleased, and He Zhiyu accepted them all without protest.

She had found a vase and, amidst the profusion of the fading spring, would often pluck various flower sprigs from the garden, arranging them with an elegant and delicate touch to display on He Zhiyu’s desk. He Zhiyu sometimes found the fragrance a bit overwhelming, yet he had to admit they were exquisitely and brilliantly bloomed.

He liked them.

He felt that the two of them were moving along the path of "gradual progression" he had envisioned. Since he had made a promise to her that day—and a gentleman’s word is worth its weight in gold—he would not waver.

He ought to find a suitable excuse to have his mother teach her how to manage the household so she would no longer be unable to command the servants as she had before; he would take her to ancestral rites to meet the clan elders; he would also ask his eldest sister to take her to a few gatherings of the noble ladies of Bianjing. He found such things tedious, but they were likely necessary for her.

He would also establish clear rules for her, letting her know what could and could not be done within the Marquis’s estate. Simply placing flowers on his desk was a bit beyond her station; she should have sought his permission first. In truth, he did not wish to dwell on such trifles, but his mother was not as lenient as he, so it would be better to be cautious.

Once everything was taught and all was in order, and after a period of cultivating their affection, they could consummate the marriage and bring children into the world. He would petition for a title of nobility for her, ensuring she would live a life of splendor and high status, with no one ever again daring to belittle her for her status as an adopted daughter.

As for the consummation, having missed the ideal timing of their wedding night, he would wait and look for a suitable opportunity. Although she seemed somewhat eager to truly become his, he felt it shouldn't be rushed, lest it seem unseemly.

He had even considered the matter of taking concubines. He would not. For over a year, many relatives had been busy trying to arrange concubines for him. He disliked such things; he preferred the quiet of solitude. He had even once suspected that he was born without the capacity for romantic attachment. He had always believed that whether he was a soldier on the battlefield or an official serving in the capital, he had no need for such things. Thus, even though he had been dissatisfied with the marriage alliance with the Meng family, he had felt indifferent either way.

Now, he was even more certain. It was not that he loved the Meng girl so deeply that he wished to remain chaste for her, but rather, seeing how she treated him with such sincerity, he simply lacked the heart to do otherwise. He told himself it was merely his own inherent kindness.

He Zhiyu believed he had everything meticulously planned, but one event shattered his careful calculations.

It was a late spring day. He was off duty, and after practicing in the martial arts arena without finding any motivation, he returned to his study. Although he held a copy of *Military Strategy*, his mind was wandering, and he had not read a single page. He felt an underlying sense of restless anxiety, for Meng Yunshao had not come to bring him soup for several days. He told himself these were trivial matters—inconsequential trifles—and he should not care. Yet, he could not help but wonder why. Being busy in previous days had kept his mind off it, but today, with time on his hands, he found it truly unsettling.

It was then that the Marchioness sent for him. Upon arrival, he discovered his eldest sister, He Qingwan, was also there. He Qingwan was a stickler for propriety, and since her marriage months ago, she had not returned save for the customary post-wedding visit. Her expression was grave, as if something significant had occurred.

She furrowed her brows and spoke first: "Zhiyu, I have something to tell you. I believe you are not a cruel man and will surely be willing to help others achieve their happiness."

He Zhiyu had a strange, ominous premonition. He could not help but knit his brows and ask, "What is it?"

He Qingwan replied, "We have a distant relative, a physician in Xinzhou, who also bears the surname He. You remember him, right?"

Unsure of what his sister was driving at, He Zhiyu nodded skeptically.

The Marchioness sighed and said, "Let me explain. I have known of this for some days. It goes against the rules of our estate, and I have opposed it, but your sister made a special trip back to persuade me. I thought, one should not be too heartless."

"Mother knows you have high aspirations and have long wished to separate, unwilling to be entangled with a family like the Mengs. But as for the Meng girl, in the end, she has done nothing wrong; her only fault is being a Meng. Yet, as an orphaned girl, she has no control over her own fate."

"You have been married for over a year. Even if you have not consummated the marriage, if word got out, no one would believe she is still a maiden; they would only mock her for being pretentious. Once she leaves this estate, it will be difficult for her to marry a promising young man of a first marriage. While it was not our intention, we have indeed delayed her."

He Zhiyu was shocked, not knowing why his mother would bring this up. A sense of foreboding grew.

The Marchioness, oblivious, continued: "When your sister was married, that distant relative attended the banquet. There is a young man named He Si'an who accompanied your father to the inner courtyard to retrieve items and happened to encounter the Meng girl."

"It must have been fate. She had not fully recovered then and did not attend the feast; she had only come out to receive the snacks Qingxian sent to the front hall, so she was not wearing her hair in the style of a married woman."

"The young man passed by, saw her, and mistook her for an unmarried daughter of the household. Since returning, he has been unable to stop thinking of her and actually wishes to propose marriage."

A storm surged in He Zhiyu’s heart—a mix of astonishment and fury. He recalled that he hadn't seen Meng Yunshao for days, and his heart sank.

He Qingwan continued, "The grandmother of the He family once treated my heart condition; they have always been close to us. I explained the situation to them."

"That He Si'an said he does not mind at all and is still willing to marry her. He believes my guarantee that there is nothing between you two. You and I have both seen him; he is a talented youth of their generation, handsome, well-versed in medicine, and it would be his first marriage."

"It would be better for us to facilitate this union and resolve your predicament. As for the Meng girl, I will speak to her gently. As an orphan, treated so poorly by her own family, she has nowhere better to go, so she will likely agree. We would not be wasting her life for nothing."

Hearing this, blood rushed to He Zhiyu’s head. Casting aside all propriety, he barked, "By doing this, sister, where do you intend to place me?!"

He Zhiyu had never lost his temper with his eldest sister. He valued ethics and tradition, and having relied on each other since childhood, their bond was deep, however understated.

The Marchioness, not expecting her son—whom she had raised to be learned and courteous—to throw a tantrum, shouted, "Hold your tongue! How can you speak to your sister like that!"

He Qingwan did not anticipate such fierce opposition, assuming he was merely concerned about his reputation—that it would look bad for his wife to find a suitor before he had even finalized their separation. Their mother thought the same, and having hesitated for days, she had finally been persuaded today. She could not allow her brother to block it now.

She stood her ground and said sternly, "Although our He family is a house of high standing, we are not the type to ruin another's prospects. Since things have reached this point, there must be a conclusion. Even if you are unwilling for the sake of appearances, I will ask for the Meng girl’s opinion myself. If she agrees, then it is a mutual choice, and it will not be up to you! At worst, we shall keep it low-profile and discreet!"

He Zhiyu roared, "What is there to ask?!"

*She is my wife; you intend to ask her if she wishes to marry another? Furthermore, the one she admires in her heart should be me!*

He Qingwan scoffed, "A woman's reputation is of the utmost importance. To have such an opportunity again is not easy for her. I understand you wish to separate and marry a lady of higher standing, and that you do not want to be associated with the Meng family anymore. But one should leave others a way to survive! Fortunately, you have not consummated the marriage, and his family trusts us, which is—"

Before she could finish, He Zhiyu snapped, "Consummation, you say? I shall consummate it with her today!"

With that, he rose and stormed out, slamming the door behind him. The servants waiting outside, who had never seen the young master lose his temper so violently, knelt in terror. None knew what had happened, only having heard his final words.

He Qingwan and the Marchioness were stunned. They exchanged bewildered glances, both grasping the implications of the young master’s words. After a long silence, He Qingwan spoke: "I didn't misunderstand, did I? He... he has no intention of separating anymore? He wants to continue his life with the Meng girl?"

The Marchioness, equally baffled, sighed, "Don't ask me. I see him every day, and I never noticed when his heart turned."

He Zhiyu, having left the Qingli Courtyard, headed straight for the Fuyao Pavilion.

He was still seething with rage, his face dark as a thundercloud. But upon entering the room and seeing Meng Yunshao carefully tending to the newly bloomed peonies in the garden, and seeing her look up at him with such innocent, bewildered eyes, the fire within him was instantly extinguished, as if a thick, damp cloth had been thrown over a blazing inferno.

Seeing He Zhiyu’s terrible expression, Meng Yunshao asked, "Young Master... what is the matter?"

He Zhiyu thought with indignation: *It is her fault.*

It was her fault for going out of the courtyard improperly dressed, inviting the attention of butterflies and bees, and causing him worry. It was her fault for possessing such beauty and not knowing how to hide it, inciting the greed of others. Even if he punished her, she deserved it. He was being magnanimous by not reprimanding her.

But if his eldest sister truly asked her, would she really agree?

Xinzhou was far from the capital—a place of mountains and water, free and happy. That man who had the audacity to pursue another man’s wife must have a silver tongue, one smoother and more charming than his own. He felt a sense of panic, which was why he had shouted so loudly earlier.

He Zhiyu walked into the inner room and sat down without a word. Meng Yunshao hurriedly followed, whispering cautiously, "Young Master... would you like some tea?"

He Zhiyu looked at her, his bright eyes burning with a heat that seemed to pierce right through her. But he only asked bitterly, "These past few days, why haven't you come to bring me soup?"

Meng Yunshao had no particular reason; she had genuinely forgotten, and she felt a twinge of guilt. However, her own days had not been easy.

A few days ago, she had heard on the street that a woman’s corpse had been pulled from the river. She had not wanted to look, but her maid, Suyue, had been overcome by curiosity and, hand in hand, they had gone to see. To her shock, it was the maid, Qingruo!

Meng Yunshao hated her for her betrayal, but she had never wished for her to die so young, without even anyone to collect her body. The authorities had been notified, and after an investigation, it was concluded that she had been selling grain with her husband, had drunk too much the night before, and had accidentally fallen into the river. The husband, unable to save her, had simply abandoned her and returned to his hometown.

When the Marchioness had sent the monthly allowance a few days prior, Yunshao had commissioned a coffin to bury Qingruo and burned paper money for her. At first, she thought nothing of it, but upon returning to the estate, the more she thought about it, the more suspicious it felt. She wondered how it could be such a coincidence that Qingruo died only days after her failed plot.

Although Suyue had suspected Qingruo was in league with Meng Yunshu, she hadn't spread the word, and her report to the authorities had yielded nothing. She did not believe it was merely divine retribution. Whether Meng Yunshu had truly become so calculating and ruthless, or if there was someone else pulling the strings behind the scenes, she felt a chill of terror.

Meng Yunshao was afraid. She worried that leaving the Marquis’s estate now would be dangerous. Moreover, she was still short of the money she needed.

For now, the best strategy was to find a way to stay in the estate for a long time. Once she had grown her own wings, then she would fly out of this cage.