part 10
Yet a month later, their gazes toward me shifted completely.
Gu Lin enjoyed immense imperial favor. The emperor showered him with gifts constantly. All court officials vied to curry favor with the newly ennobled Marquis of Zhenbei. Cold and reserved by nature, Gu Lin was hard to approach, so they turned their attentions to me instead.
I never put on airs nor fawned excessively, maintaining a poised and dignified manner toward everyone. Before long, whispers spread among noble ladies in the capital: "Though the second young lady of the Shen family was born to a concubine, she carries herself more gracefully than the eldest legitimate daughter."
Word reached the Shen Manor. Madam Wang flew into a rage and smashed a tea set, while Shen Mudan was filled with burning resentment. It was said that while doing needlework in her embroidery chamber, upon hearing those words, she pricked her finger with the needle. Staring at the drop of fresh blood, she suddenly burst into tears.
I merely smiled and paid it no mind.
After all, one lives for oneself. Gossip from others can never be silenced, nor is there any need to try.
During this period, Grandfather sent people to summon me several times, hoping I would return home. I knew he wanted me to plead with Zhao Ming on Shen Mudan’s behalf to revoke the divorce papers. I always declined, citing endless household affairs at the marquis mansion.
It was not that I harbored no old sentiments, but some people simply did not deserve my kindness.
For years, Grandfather had favored Shen Mudan blindly, never once considering my feelings. When my mother lay gravely ill, the Shen family refused even to send for a physician, forcing her to endure all suffering alone. In my childhood, Madam Wang withheld my monthly allowance, and Grandfather knew full well yet dismissed it, claiming daughters born to concubines needed no special treatment.
I keep all these grievances firmly in my heart.
Not out of vengefulness, but remembrance.
Only by remembering past hardships can I stay grounded amid present happiness.
In the end, Shen Mudan failed to win back Zhao Ming. Though mild-mannered on the surface, Zhao Ming was stubborn as a mule, and once he made up his mind, nothing could change it.
News of her divorce spread throughout the capital, turning her marriage prospects into a laughingstock. No respectable family would take in a divorced woman, especially one tainted with rumors of improper conduct. Moreover, most of her dowry had long been squandered by Madam Wang, who had seized much of it to secure matches for her own sons, leaving no means to make amends.
Eventually, Madam Wang found her another suitor—a wealthy silk merchant surnamed Zhou from the south of the Yangtze River. Though well-off financially, he came from humble origins with no influence in the capital. He agreed to marry Shen Mudan solely to climb the social ladder through the Shen family’s prestige.
Shen Mudan wept bitterly and refused the match, refusing to believe a legitimate daughter of the Shen clan could marry a mere merchant. Yet with her ruined reputation, no decent noble household would accept her.
This time, Grandfather refused to indulge her. Advanced in years and worn out by troubles, he could not afford further disgrace to the family name.
Shen Mudan had no choice but to consent. Her dowry was halved, and her bridal sedan far less grand than before. She cried all the way to her new home. Beside the sedan, Merchant Zhou wore an unreadable expression. To him, marrying a noble-born lady was still a favorable bargain.
I heard the news while simmering soup for Gu Lin in the manor kitchen.
"She has married at last?" I stirred the broth and said to Qinghe, "It is for the best, better than lingering in disgrace at her natal home."
"You are far too kind, Madam," Qinghe pouted. "She treated you so cruelly in the past, yet you still speak leniently of her."
"I speak not out of kindness," I turned off the stove and ladled the soup, "I simply believe everyone must pay for their mistakes. It has nothing to do with mercy."
Qinghe nodded vaguely and carried the soup away.
Leaning against the kitchen doorframe, I gazed at the newly planted wintersweet blossoms and thought of my mother.
She always used to say, "Leave some leeway in all things, for paths may cross again someday."
She spent her entire life treating others with kindness and never fought for her own rights, silently swallowing all mistreatment even at Madam Wang’s hands. Yet such gentleness never brought her a peaceful end.
I often wondered what she would say if she could see me now.
She would surely smile and praise me for making something of myself, then sigh softly and pity Shen Mudan’s fate.
That was my mother—forever soft-hearted and compassionate.
But I am not her.
I would never harm others intentionally, yet neither would I smile and forgive those who have wronged me.
Holding the soup bowl, I walked past the corridors into the study.
Gu Lin was rarely free at home, currently bent over military reports, utterly absorbed in his work. His brows were slightly furrowed, his jawline taut. Candlelight fell upon his face, revealing the old scar stretching from his temple to his jawline. Far from looking fierce, it added a solemn heroic aura to his features.
I stood beside him quietly for a while before he noticed my presence.
"General," I set down the bowl beside him, "rest for a moment."
He lifted his eyes, shifting his gaze from official documents to the soup, then to my face. After staring at me for a few seconds, he laid down his brush and picked up the bowl.
The soup was still hot. He blew gently and took a sip.
"Delicious," he said simply.
I smiled and sat opposite him, watching him eat.
He looked nothing like a formidable army general at this moment, sipping carefully as if afraid of burning his tongue. From time to time, he glanced at me awkwardly, evidently unused to being watched while eating.
"People all over the capital say you have broken my ill fate of bringing misfortune to wives," he suddenly spoke.
"Oh?" I raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do they say?"
"They claim your powerful noble destiny can suppress my ominous solitary aura." He paused, a faint hint of amusement flickering across his lips. "Some have even written folk tales, portraying you as a lucky star sent to subdue my inauspicious fate."
I could not help laughing. "Do you believe such superstitions?"
"I do not," he set down the bowl and looked deep into my eyes. "I only believe what you once told me."
"What words?"
"That those three young ladies did not die because of me, but were killed by others." His voice sank, cold anger flashing in his eyes. "You were right. I have spent three years investigating, and I finally uncovered the truth."
My heart tightened instantly. "Who was behind it all?"
"Wen Ruhai, Vice Minister of War." Gu Lin spoke with chilling calmness. "He masterminded all three betrothal tragedies. Fearful that powerful in-laws would strengthen my influence, he sabotaged every possible marriage match for me. For the first engagement, he bribed servants to tamper with the garden pond. For the second, he secretly slipped slow-acting poison to Marquis Anyuan’s sister. As for the third..."
He paused, his Adam’s apple rolling heavily.
"He hired bandits to ambush the young lady’s carriage on her journey to the capital."
I clenched my fingers tightly until my nails dug painfully into my palms.
Three innocent lives had become mere casualties of political power struggles.
Meanwhile, the true culprit still held his official position safely, bowing respectfully before the emperor every court day.
"I have gathered solid evidence," Gu Lin stated firmly. "I shall present it to His Majesty during tomorrow’s early court assembly."
He looked toward me, his stern eyes filled with tangled emotions—rage, sorrow, and deep unspoken affection.
"There are higher powers backing Wen Ruhai," he continued. "I cannot touch them yet, but I shall make Wen Ruhai pay for his crimes first."
I finally understood his three years of silent patience and careful planning.
He had been waiting for the perfect moment to strike decisively.
Now that he had been ennobled and gained sufficient authority, the time had come.
"General," I placed my hand gently over his, "I shall stand firmly by your side no matter what you choose to do."
Gu Lin looked down at our intertwined hands—his rough, battle-worn skin contrasting softly with my delicate palms, like petals resting upon solid rock.
He turned his palm over and held mine tightly within his grasp.
The next day in court, Gu Lin openly impeached Wen Ruhai.
He presented irrefutable proof: confidential letters of bribery, poison prescriptions, and financial records of bandit payments. Every piece of evidence clearly exposed Wen Ruhai’s cold-blooded crimes committed out of selfish political schemes.
The entire court fell into an uproar.
Enraged, the emperor immediately ordered Wen Ruhai dismissed from office and imprisoned for thorough investigation.
News spread rapidly across the capital. The public finally learned the rumors about Gu Lin’s ill fortune were nothing but deliberate slander by corrupt officials. Those who had once mocked him fell silent instantly, while families who had previously kept their distance now eagerly sought connections with the marquis mansion.
I glanced at piles of visiting cards with quiet amusement.
Such is human nature indeed—quick to kick others when they fall, yet eager to seek benefits once they rise to power.
Having defeated Wen Ruhai in court, Gu Lin chose not to hastily pursue his hidden backers, knowing the political undercurrents ran far too deep for reckless action. His top priority remained securing northern border defenses, as Tartar forces grew increasingly restless and threatened invasion.
He spent three months training troops and preparing for war before leading his army into battle.
On the eve of his departure, he sat in the study and wrote me a personal letter.
"If you encounter any difficulties while I am away, present this letter to Marchioness Yongning," he handed it to me gently. "She is an old acquaintance of mine and will surely look after you."
I accepted the letter and looked up at him. "Do you not worry about me?"
"I have no need to worry," he replied softly. "You are Shen Tanxiang, and you will never allow yourself to be wronged."
I smiled, standing on tiptoe to straighten his collar gently.
It was my first voluntary intimate gesture since our marriage. Gu Lin froze completely, his broad shoulders tensing tautly, his ears flushing bright red instantly.
My fingers lingered lightly against his collar, reluctant to pull away.
"General," I whispered softly, "please return safely soon."
Without answering, he suddenly pulled me firmly into his arms in a swift embrace. His sturdy armor pressed gently against my cheek, yet his arms held me with astonishing tenderness, as if holding priceless fragile porcelain.
"Wait for me," his muffled voice came from above my head. "When I return, no one shall ever dare to mistreat you again."
He released me and strode resolutely out of the study, his dark military cloak billowing fiercely in the night wind like a proud battle standard.
I stood silently at the study doorway for a long while.
Qinghe approached quietly. "Madam, the general has gone far away."
"I know," I replied quietly and returned to my chambers.
That night, sleep eluded me completely. I rose quietly and sat by the window gazing at the bright full moon hanging gracefully above the mansion’s upturned eaves.
I recalled Gu Lin’s promise once more.
Little did he know, ever since marrying him, I had never suffered any mistreatment again.
He had long become my strongest support, my most reliable shelter, and the most unbreakable armor protecting my entire world.
I curved my lips into a gentle smile and whispered softly toward the moonlight, "Come back soon, my general."
Time flowed slowly in his absence.
Each morning I diligently managed household affairs, and each afternoon I visited veteran soldiers stationed at the military camp, mending their clothes and airing their bedding, keeping myself constantly busy. Occasional letters arrived from the frontier, written in his sharp, forceful handwriting yet filled with only the briefest words: Safe and sound, Do not worry, Have you eaten well.
Qinghe often teased about his overly concise letters lacking romantic sentiment.
I smiled tenderly and carefully stored each letter inside my bedside wooden chest. Though plain and simple, those few plain words held the most sincere and clumsy affection from a man unused to expressing emotions freely.
Autumn arrived quietly four months after Gu Lin’s departure.
Joyous battle triumph news swept through the capital: Marquis Gu Lin had led thirty thousand frontier troops to utterly crush one hundred thousand Tartar cavalry, slaying three enemy generals and seizing vast numbers of livestock and military supplies.
The imperial court rejoiced greatly. The emperor generously rewarded all soldiers and further promoted Gu Lin to Grand General Pacifying the North, bestowing countless treasures and silks upon him.
I was gathering osmanthus blossoms in the courtyard when the joyful news arrived.
Flowers slipped from my hands scattered across the ground. I stood stunned momentarily before bending down gently to gather them up.
"Madam!" Qinghe rushed breathlessly into the courtyard with tearful eyes. "Great victory! The general has been promoted to Grand General!"
Standing slowly with arms full of fragrant osmanthus blossoms, I breathed deeply in quiet joy.
The sweet scent filled my senses.
My general was finally coming home.
One month later, Gu Lin returned triumphantly leading his victorious army.
The entire capital poured onto streets to welcome the heroic young general. Dressed in gleaming silver armor and mounted upon a magnificent steed, he led endless lines of returning soldiers with fluttering banners and resounding war drums.
He appeared slightly thinner and tanner from prolonged frontier warfare, yet his eyes remained bright and resolute. A fresh battle scar now stretched across his cheek to the corner of his mouth, striking yet heroic.
Yet the moment his gaze fell upon me waiting before the marquis mansion gates, he instantly dismounted and hurried toward me, carefully studying my appearance from head to toe.
"You have grown thinner," he murmured softly.
Tears instantly blurred my vision.
He hesitantly raised his hand toward my face, then drew it back shyly, seemingly afraid his rough calloused hands might hurt me.
I firmly grasped his hand and pressed it gently against my cheek, tears streaming freely down my face.
"General," I spoke amidst soft sobs, "you have finally returned."
"I am home at last," he replied gently, awkwardly wiping away my tears with his other hand. His coarse fingertips reddened my cheeks slightly. "Do not cry now—too many people are watching us."
I laughed through my tears, noticing crowds of townsfolk watching us affectionately, many elderly ladies quietly wiping away sentimental tears.
"The marchioness has waited half a year for her general," whispered onlookers softly.
Gu Lin’s ears flushed deeply red. He quickly took my hand and hurried back into the mansion as if fleeing countless gazes.
Once safely inside the gates, he stopped walking and looked at me earnestly.
"Shen Tanxiang," he spoke solemnly as if issuing military orders, "I have something important to tell you now that I am back."
"What is it?"
Drawing a bright yellow imperial scroll from his bosom, he unfurled it before me—it was an imperial posthumous honor decree.
The document officially conferred the prestigious title of First-Class Noble Lady upon his late mother, Madam Zhang.
I stared in utter surprise.
Gu Lin had never spoken of his mother before. I only knew his father, the former frontier general, had died honorably in battle, leaving fourteen-year-old Gu Lin to inherit military command and defend northern borders alone. Nothing was ever mentioned about his mother within the mansion.
"My mother was once a simple laundress," Gu Lin spoke quietly with immense tenderness. "When my father committed mistakes and was exiled south of the Yangtze River in his youth, he married my mother there. After his official reinstatement returning to the capital, she chose to remain behind, earning meager wages washing clothes solely to fund my studies."
Tears welled up uncontrollably in my eyes.
"I was not beside her during her final moments," his voice lowered sorrowfully, the fresh scar on his face appearing even more distinct in soft light. "In her last letter, she urged me to focus wholeheartedly on military duties without worrying about her. She said her proudest lifelong achievement was giving birth to me."
"Gu Lin..." I choked softly calling his name.
"This imperial honor bestowed upon my mother comes entirely from His Majesty’s kindness," he continued gently. "Yet I know all these blessings have come because of you. These past years married to you have been the happiest days of my entire life. I have no precious gifts worthy of you, only this..."
He then took out a small white jade seal carved clearly with four characters: Marquis Mansion of Zhenbei.
"From today onward, all mansion affairs shall be placed entirely in your hands," he said sincerely. "Every person and every possession within these walls shall follow your wishes."
Holding the warm jade seal tightly in my hands, I could no longer speak through tears.
Qinghe stamped her feet anxiously nearby. "General, Madam, please do not linger at the doorway! The autumn wind is chilly!"
Gu Lin immediately lifted me gently into his arms without hesitation, striding steadily toward the inner courtyard.
"I shall stay by your side from now on," he promised firmly. "I will never leave you again."
Resting comfortably against his chest listening to his steady heartbeat, I smiled happily.
"You once promised no one would dare mistreat me after your return," I whispered softly. "Now that you are home, what if someone bullies me?"
His footsteps paused abruptly, gazing down at me with intense focus.
"I shall make them pay double," he replied seriously without hesitation.
I burst into joyful laughter instantly.
My cheerful laughter echoed warmly throughout the entire mansion, sweeping away half a year’s loneliness and longing completely.
Perfect love and happy days had finally settled peacefully within our home.
Two more peaceful years passed swiftly.
During these years, Gu Lin continued gaining increasing imperial favor. Although the emperor repeatedly wished to transfer him to central court positions in the capital, Gu Lin always politely declined, preferring familiar frontier life over complicated official politics. Understanding his wishes, the emperor ceased pressing him yet showered him with even more lavish rewards.
Life within our marquis mansion remained smooth and joyful. I happily gave birth to healthy twin children—a boy and a girl. The formidable general appeared utterly clumsy and nervous holding infants for the very first time, far more flustered than facing enemy troops on the battlefield.
Qinghe laughed endlessly watching his awkward attempts, and I gently taught him proper ways to cradle and soothe our children patiently.
One peaceful evening, he paced slowly around the main hall gently rocking our infant son while humming simple frontier folk tunes off-key. Strangely enough, our baby slept soundly and peacefully nestled securely in his arms regardless.
Leaning quietly against the doorframe watching this heartwarming scene, I fell into gentle reflection.
What would my life have become if I had never willingly yielded that original marriage engagement?
I would have undoubtedly married into the prince’s mansion enduring Zhao Ming’s perpetual cold indifference, spending my entire life trapped within poverty and endless suffering. Meanwhile, Shen Mudan would have entered the general’s mansion in my place—whether fate treated her kindly or cruelly, she could never have received such sincere tender devotion.
Destiny truly works in mysterious ways.
What once seemed dreadful misfortune eventually turned out to be boundless blessings.
What was once fiercely coveted perfect marriage turned out to be nothing but troublesome burdens.
One quiet afternoon, unexpected visitors arrived from the Shen family.
They were personal servants sent by Grandfather himself, informing me of his severe illness and earnestly requesting my presence.
After brief hesitation, I finally decided to visit my old natal home once more.
The Shen Mansion remained unchanged with its classic red walls and deep serene courtyards. Yet walking along familiar winding corridors, everything suddenly felt strangely distant and unfamiliar.
I still clearly remembered cold stone floors I once knelt scrubbing laboriously, high windows I once struggled hopelessly to reach, and lonely corners where I was forced to stand punished all day long. All these memories remained vivid, yet I no longer needed to endure such hardships ever again.
Grandfather lay weakly upon his sickbed, his hair completely snow-white, his face deeply lined with age, appearing far older than merely two years prior.
Upon seeing me enter his room, tears suddenly welled up within his dim aged eyes.
"Tanxiang..." his trembling bony hand reached weakly toward me. "Grandfather has wronged you deeply..."
I stood calmly beside his bedside without reaching out to grasp his hand.
"You sent for me—what matters require my presence?"
Too emotional to speak clearly himself, Madam Wang spoke hurriedly on his behalf instead. "Tanxiang, your grandfather sincerely hopes you might help your elder sister. Her husband Merchant Zhou has suffered severe business losses and fallen heavily into debt. Her daily life has become extremely difficult. Could you perhaps..."
"Aunt," I interrupted her calmly, "do you still remember words you once spoke when my sister returned home divorced?"
Madam Wang’s smile froze instantly.
"You once said openly: ‘That concubine-born girl married an ill-fated general; let her perish quietly—she deserves no assistance whatsoever.’"
Her face flushed bright red with embarrassment instantly.
"I have never forgotten a single word you uttered back then," I looked steadily at her without malice. "Rest assured, I harbor no lingering grudges. I merely state plain facts honestly."
Grandfather wept bitterly clutching his bedcovers remorsefully. "I deeply regret favoring Mudan unjustly and unjustly taking your rightful marriage away from you... I was terribly wrong indeed."
Observing his genuine old-age regret, complex emotions stirred gently within my heart.
He had truly grown old and frail.
Once the undisputed authoritative master of the entire Shen household, he now lay weak and filled with belated remorse.
Yet regrets could never alter past realities.
All past sufferings had already been endured irreversibly. My beloved mother had long departed forever beyond recall. Shen Mudan’s miserable married life had already become permanent reality.
No amount of remorse could rewrite history.
"Grandfather," I finally reached out gently adjusting his quilt properly, "please focus fully on recovering your health and cease troubling yourself with worldly affairs. Everyone must walk their own destined paths independently. You cannot manage everyone’s lives forever."
With those final words, I quietly turned and left the Shen Mansion forever.
Stepping out through the grand vermilion gates, refreshing autumn wind carrying sweet osmanthus fragrance gently embraced me. Breathing deeply, I felt warm sunshine bathing my entire heart.
As for Shen Mudan’s later fate...
Merchant Zhou’s business never recovered, drowning deeper into debt until they were eventually forced to leave the capital entirely, settling in a remote small town south of the Yangtze River.
Once proud legitimate eldest daughter of the prestigious Shen clan, she eventually became an ordinary merchant’s humble wife burdened with endless household chores—personally cooking meals, washing clothes, losing all former elegance and delicate appearance completely.
Locals often saw her standing silently along street lanes staring wistfully at passing noble ladies dressed in splendid finery. No one truly knew whether she regretted losing her chance at becoming a young lord’s wife or bitterly lamenting foolishly rejecting her original marriage to the powerful general.
Meanwhile, I became universally respected and admired Marchioness of Zhenbei within the capital.
The emperor bestowed upon us a magnificent spacious official mansion located within the capital’s most prosperous district, elegantly constructed with exquisite carved beams and painted rafters. Though Gu Lin continued mostly stationed defending northern borders, he always returned home immediately whenever granted leave.
He joyfully played with our children within peaceful courtyards, patiently taught our young son reading and writing inside quiet studies, quietly watched me preparing nourishing soups in the kitchen, and secretly stole gentle kisses whenever nobody noticed nearby.
Qinghe always shyly covered her eyes pretending not to witness such sweet intimate moments while smiling joyfully all the same.
Shen Mudan would never witness such warm family happiness now.
Nor did she ever need to.
Wrong paths once chosen can never be retraced; no one else deserves blame for one’s own foolish decisions.
One peaceful evening when Gu Lin stayed home leisurely, I sat comfortably upon stone garden benches gently holding our baby daughter watching him carefully teaching our young son basic swordsmanship within the courtyard.
He demonstrated every movement patiently and repeatedly with utmost seriousness. Our three-year-old son could barely understand proper stances yet waved his wooden sword joyfully regardless, amusing his father endlessly.
Golden sunset glow gently bathed the entire courtyard warmly. Holding our daughter peacefully watching my beloved husband and playful child together, I sincerely believed such simple tranquil happiness represented life’s most perfect blessings.
Sensing my affectionate gaze, Gu Lin turned toward me instantly, his eyes filled with unprecedented gentle warmth under golden twilight rays. Even his striking battle scar appeared less fierce now, merely honorable medals silently recording all his past struggles and glorious achievements.
He walked steadily toward me, gently taking our daughter from my arms while naturally holding my hand firmly in his own.
"What thoughts occupy your mind?" he asked softly.
"I recall a certain general’s sincere promise spoken long ago," I smiled gazing softly at his profile.
"What promise?"
"He once vowed that after returning safely, no one would ever dare mistreat me again."
Gu Lin paused walking momentarily gazing deeply into my eyes with warm sparkling emotions shining brightly within them.
"Has anyone dared bully you since then?"
"Yes," I replied playfully.
His brows instantly tightened faintly, faint military aura faintly stirring around him. "Who dares?"
I stood lightly on tiptoe whispering two soft playful words quietly beside his ear.
Gu Lin froze completely instantly, his ears flushing bright red shyly once more.
Our baby daughter giggled happily in his arms reaching chubby little hands playfully grasping her father’s official headgear.
Sunset glowed perfectly gently, cool autumn winds blowing softly peacefully. All past worldly grievances and conflicts faded completely insignificant within such warm blissful moments.