9. Taking a Concubine

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Back then, when Meng Yunshu was originally betrothed to He Zhiyu, she was already seventeen. By ordinary standards, that was not particularly early; it was her mother, Madam Chang, who had been waiting for the opportunity to align closely with the He family, causing a delay of a year or two for her daughter.

Now, three years have passed. Meng Yunshu is over twenty, well beyond the usual age for a young woman to marry, yet she remains unwed. The reason for this hesitation is her lingering affection for He Zhiyu.

No one had imagined that she harbored such deep feelings for him.

Madam Chang merely thought her daughter was a compliant and obedient lady, patiently waiting for her mother’s arrangement. Even on the day of the wedding, when she saw Meng Yunshu fiercely resist ascending the bridal sedan chair, she believed it was only a matter of a young woman mindful of her reputation, unwilling to betray her husband.

Meng Yunshao, too, had assumed that she and He Zhiyu, though acquainted, were nothing more than casual acquaintances who merely knew each other’s names. Later interactions with He Zhiyu confirmed this assumption; to the heir apparent, their connection was indeed that superficial. He did not even recall when they had been classmates, only that he recognized her.

Therefore, when Madam Chang urged her to marry on Meng Yunshu’s behalf, Meng Yunshao thought it was a mutual understanding between the two.

Had she known of Meng Yunshu’s long-standing, deeply cherished secret love, Meng Yunshao would have helped her find a solution; under no circumstances would she have agreed to Madam Chang’s request.

But now, the bow has been strung; the arrow cannot be recalled. Everything is too late.

Not only Meng Yunshao but even Madam Chang herself regrets it.

He Zhiyu’s steady rise in favor despite no misfortune is one matter; Meng Yunshu’s descent into madness is quite another.

In fact, it is the latter that leaves Madam Chang most helpless.

The day after the wedding, Meng Yunshu awoke.

By then, the ceremony had concluded, and news of He Zhiyu’s capture of the rebel had spread throughout the city.

Meng Yunshu sat dazed in her chamber, clutching a small booklet, neglecting her appearance entirely. She seemed as if her soul had departed—silent, tearless.

Previously, Madam Chang often saw Meng Yunshu flipping through that booklet, her face glowing with shy, sweet smiles.

She had thought it was merely a diary of youthful musings, fleeting emotions harmless in nature. She never wished to pry, fearing to embarrass her daughter, and had never actually looked inside.

Only now did Madam Chang learn that the booklet was a collection of He Zhiyu’s calligraphy, gathered during the brief three months they were classmates at the government school for noble children run by the Yan family.

They were nothing more than ordinary essays assigned by their tutor, some mere annotations in books, or simply He Zhiyu’s signature on scraps of paper. She had no idea how much effort her daughter had expended to obtain them.

At that moment, Madam Chang vaguely sensed she had made a grave mistake.

Meng Yunshu’s face was ashen; she neither ate nor slept. Madam Chang and several maids watched over her day and night, fearing that if she lost her mind completely, she might harm herself.

When Meng Yunshao returned to her maternal home, Meng Yunshu suddenly showed signs of life. Though she had not eaten or drunk for two days, she burst to the door like a flash of light, suddenly crying, her tears flowing as she grabbed Meng Yunshao by the hair and slapped her fiercely several times.

Then, looking around wildly, seeing He Zhiyu had not come with her, she laughed madly, insulting Meng Yunshao as a wretched woman who stole others’ fates and deserved never to be loved by her husband.

Meng Yunshao, seeing her disheveled and deranged behavior, was more shocked than angered.

Her previous impression of Meng Yunshu was that of a delicate and refined young lady—somewhat pretentious and aloof, but quiet and obedient. She never expected such behavior.

She felt as if a perfectly sane person had suddenly gone mad.

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Over the years, Meng Yunshu found every opportunity to harass Meng Yunshao, sometimes hurling insults, other times pleading to be taken as a concubine.

Meng Yunshao grew weary and subtly hinted that neither her mother-in-law nor He Zhiyu wished to marry another daughter from the Meng family, but Meng Yunshu was relentless, as if she would not relent until her desire was fulfilled.

Meng Yunshao wondered why Meng Yunshu fixated on her, even waiting at the He family’s public gate to deliver clothes and food, insisting upon forcing herself into their lives.

After all, if He Zhiyu agreed, she would have no reason to refuse.

And the recent affair involving Qing Ruo always seemed somehow connected to Meng Yunshu.

If it had been the Meng Yunshu before her engagement to He Zhiyu, Meng Yunshao believed she would never have committed such cruel acts. But now, she was uncertain.

Madam Chang, too, was annoyed with Meng Yunshao, blaming her for not resolutely refusing the substitution marriage she had arranged, and often treating her with disdain.

If only people in this world could be reasonable, how much better it would be.

Compared to the bruising, grievous treatment Meng Yunshao endured at the He family—like being cut with knives and cleaved with axes—the Meng household’s cruelty was more blunt and straightforward, something a genteel person like Meng Yunshao found unbearable.

She truly did not wish to return to such torment.

Yet, curiously, her mother-in-law persistently urged her to go back. Logically, the He family detested the Meng family; such encouragement was unexpected.

But her mother-in-law always spoke sentiments like, “Children should stay close to their parents,” “Even if parents err, children should not bear too much resentment,” and “Having a mother as a pillar is necessary; the relationship must not be too strained,” all expressed with a tinge of sadness that left Meng Yunshao puzzled.

Moreover, she forcefully prepared the carriage and gifts for her return, leaving Meng Yunshao no room to refuse.

Just like this time, before Meng Yunshao could say a word, her mother-in-law ordered some items from the recent imperial rewards and supplemented them from the storehouse, instructing her to leave today.

Knowing she could not refuse, Meng Yunshao simply smiled gently and agreed.

At He Zhiyu’s residence, a few maids carrying the gifts appeared, led by Lu He, a first-rank female servant from the lady of the household’s quarters. Curious, Zhu An inquired and learned it was Madam Hou’s order for Meng Yunshao to visit her maternal home.

Lu He was thorough and asked, “Will the heir apparent return with the young madam? I shall inform her if so; please wait a moment.”

Zhu An reminded, “Young master, General Lei said he would come today to discuss the year-end promotion of the city defense troops, likely in the afternoon.”

He Zhiyu hesitated, then said, “Then I will not go.”

Meanwhile, Meng Yunshao sent a messenger at a gallop to inform the Meng family, quickly tidied herself, instructed Su Yue to arrange the carriage, and with several servants set off.

Her heart was uneasy all the way, silently wishing that this road might stretch on forever without ever reaching its end.

In truth, the distance between the He and Meng households was not far; it took only two quarters of an hour to arrive.

As they neared the Meng residence, Su Yue lifted the carriage curtain to look out and said, “How unusual—both master and young master are waiting at the gate.”

Meng Yunshao furrowed her brows and asked, “Is elder sister here?”

Su Yue looked carefully and replied, “No, and madam is not here either.”

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Meng Yunshao relaxed slightly, thinking perhaps the two had gone out on errands and were not at home.

Upon arriving at the gate, her brother Meng Qiyan hurried forward to greet her, smiling, “Yunshao, I just heard you were coming back. Father and I rushed out to welcome you. Such treatment is rare!”

Meng Yunshao smiled gently, bowed, and said, “Brother.” Then she turned to Meng Dongqi, who was also at the gate, and bowed as well. “Father, why have you waited here in the cold wind? It truly exhausts me.”

Meng Dongqi, bearing an air of scholarly refinement, returned a sincere and kind smile. “It is good to have you back.”

Before her marriage, Meng Yunshao’s relationship with these two men was hardly warm or cold. Meng Qiyan was already of age and often away pursuing his career, with whom she rarely exchanged words. Meng Dongqi treated her almost as if she were a mere tenant in the same courtyard—emotionally distant.

After her marriage, however, both men changed, treating her like kin.

Meng Yunshao took it in stride, doing what she could to assist them. For instance, when her brother struggled to find success in the imperial examinations and his career stalled, she mentioned him to He Zhiyu, who, seeing his potential, arranged a military post for him.

They exchanged polite greetings and entered the hall, which was unusually quiet. Meng Yunshao was relieved to see neither Madam Chang nor Meng Yunshu were present.

But just as she settled, Meng Qiyan asked a young female servant, “Where is mother? Wasn’t she here just now? And Yunshu—she hasn’t been seen all morning.”

The young servant seemed frightened and stammered, “I…I do not know,” then suddenly knelt down.

A sense of foreboding rose in Meng Yunshao’s heart.

At that moment, a figure dressed in bright pink burst out from the back hall and knelt before Meng Yunshao with a thud. Su Yue reacted swiftly, stepping forward to block, fearing the woman might harm Meng Yunshao.

The woman raised her head. Though not strikingly beautiful, her features were finely made up: a pale white foundation, long eyebrows extending to the temples, lips and cheeks brushed with delicate rouge. She wore a vivid pink blouse and gauzy skirt—a style fitting a concubine of a noble household.

It was Meng Yunshu.

She said nothing, her face expressionless yet bearing a faint madness. Suddenly, she bowed deeply three times, her forehead striking the floor with loud thuds, the skin bruising.

Everyone was stunned into silence.

Just then, Madam Chang rushed out from the back hall, followed by several flustered maids who had apparently failed to watch Meng Yunshu.

Crying, Madam Chang grasped her daughter and pleaded, “Child, you will make your mother suffer for a lifetime! Please get up quickly. Don’t do this anymore!”

In the struggle, a small doll dressed in white fell from Meng Yunshu’s person, with a birth date written on it. Meng Yunshao glanced at it—it was her own birth information.

Meng Yunshu calmly said, “I have practiced with this doll several times, but she does not respond. Today, I must speak to my sister.”

Then, suddenly standing, she swiftly took a cup of hot tea freshly brewed by a female servant from the table.

The tea was scalding, freshly poured from the boiling kettle. Meng Yunshu seemed about to throw it, so Meng Yunshao quickly pushed Su Yue aside and leaned away.

Unexpectedly, Meng Yunshu knelt again with a sobbing, pitiful tone, addressing Meng Yunshao, “Concubine, please drink this cup of tea.”