Chapter 152: Selfishness Hard to Conceal
Before they knew it, it was early June, and the heat of summer had truly arrived.
The weather grew even hotter. Occasionally, even after nightfall, there was no cool breeze; it was only past midnight that the temperature finally dropped. Dawn brought a brief spell of coolness, but as soon as the scorching sun rose, the heat returned with a vengeance.
Everything at the Duke of Chen’s estate remained as usual.
Cheng Zhao’s birthday banquet was far less grand in scale than the Dowager Madame’s, and preparations were straightforward—it was just an ordinary feast.
The only difference was the need to prepare more lanterns and candles, along with fire prevention measures.
On the fourth day of June, a heavy rainstorm struck.
The next day, the weather cooled down slightly, with a light breeze stirring.
Cheng Chao paid a visit to the Duke of Chen’s estate.
“...My younger sister’s birthday is approaching, and my grandfather and parents wish to bring her back home for a day,” Cheng Chao said, calling upon the Dowager Madame.
It was a custom in the capital for a wife’s family to celebrate her birthday in advance.
The Dowager Madame naturally agreed with a smile.
Cheng Chao presented the Dowager Madame with generous gifts, including a centuries-old ginseng root; in return, the Dowager Madame offered several gifts of her own.
Cheng Zhao arranged the duties for the gatekeepers and main kitchen, informed her mother-in-law, gathered her maids, and returned with Cheng Chao to the Cheng residence for lunch.
Her eldest sister and third sister were already there.
During the meal, their grandfather and father were present as well, as the government offices were closed for the day.
Cheng Zhao thought of Zhou Yuanshen, who had gone to the capital’s garrison. If he had been home, he could have come along for a free meal.
After lunch, they went to their second sister-in-law’s courtyard, where the siblings gathered behind closed doors to talk.
Cheng Zhao spoke of matters concerning the Zhou family.
Somehow, the conversation turned to Princess Jiahe.
“I remember that the day Princess Jiahe’s son was killed was exactly the day I got married. Because of that incident, no one noticed that the Duke of Chen didn’t accompany me on my return visit,” Cheng Zhao said.
“Our family has no ties with Princess Jiahe’s household,” her second sister-in-law said.
Cheng Zhao replied, “The Zhou family doesn’t have deep ties with her either. I checked the gatekeepers’ records—on my wedding day, Princess Jiahe’s gift was quite modest.”
During the Dowager Madame’s birthday celebration, officials, noble families, and even princes and commandery princes from afar had sent gifts. Even Princess Qing’an, who had some grievances with the Zhou family, had sent one.
But not Princess Jiahe’s household.
Even if the mistress was too distressed to manage affairs, the gatekeeper’s steward should have delivered a gift.
Failing to send a gift on such a significant occasion, without any marital connection, could be considered a social severance of ties.
“...My aunt-in-law deliberately invited her just to spite me,” Cheng Zhao said.
“Her family probably wants to form a marriage alliance with the princess’s household. Princess Jiahe lost her son, but she still has a daughter,” her eldest sister remarked.
She added, “I’ve heard that the heir of the Changling Marquis’s Song family has been extremely picky about marriage matches, and many people are mocking them behind their backs.”
“I’ve heard the same,” said her third sister.
She continued, “The Song family even tried to seek a marriage with my mother-in-law’s family, the Duke of Weiguo’s daughter. The Duke of Weiguo’s estate didn’t even bother to respond.”
Cheng Zhao frowned slightly.
She hadn’t known about this.
“Even if the elder branch’s mother and daughter-in-law weren’t plotting against me, my aunt-in-law still intended to use my birthday banquet to find a high-born wife for her nephew,” Cheng Zhao said.
She added, “The Song family seems to have thin resources, even worse than the Huan family.”
Cheng Zhao felt it was rude to say, but she thought her aunt-in-law lacked foresight. At the New Year’s estate rent issue, her aunt-in-law hadn’t even spotted the problem.
When she said this, her eldest sister glanced at the second sister-in-law.
The second sister-in-law returned the look.
“What is it? Is there some secret I don’t know?” Cheng Zhao asked.
The second sister-in-law replied, “The Changling Marquis household truly has little foundation—they don’t even own a single patch of ancestral land.”
Cheng Zhao was taken aback. “How can that be? They have a noble title!”
A title came with granted lands, at least three thousand mu in one continuous parcel.
Even if they hadn’t originally owned such a plot, they would have worked to consolidate their holdings over generations.
But the Song family’s title had already passed through two generations—how could they have no accumulation at all?
“No one from the Song family has held an official post in court for two generations. They come from a scholarly background and may pride themselves on being above worldly matters, but they’re poor at managing affairs. That’s why high-ranking noble families refuse to marry into the Changling Marquis household,” the second sister-in-law explained.
She added, “Of course, some impoverished officials are still willing, but the Changling Marquis family considers them beneath their station.”
Cheng Zhao was speechless.
Staying overnight at her family home, Cheng Zhao and her siblings talked late into the night.
When she returned the next day, she shared all the secrets she had heard with Nanny Li and the others.
Nanny Li was just as astonished as Cheng Zhao.
“At this banquet, we must keep a close watch on the elder branch of the household. Don’t let them use my name to trick anyone into marrying into the Changling Marquis family,” Cheng Zhao said.
Nanny Li, Suyue, and Qiubai nodded in agreement.
“When an heir inherits a title, it’s downgraded. With no ancestral land, the Changling Marquis family really should marry a wealthy merchant’s daughter now to strengthen their foundation,” Nanny Li said.
A merchant’s family would gain a title, while the Song family would gain wealth—a natural match.
Cheng Zhao replied, “Even wealthy merchant families aren’t that unlucky.”
Nanny Li fell silent.
Soon, Cheng Zhao’s birthday arrived.
The Dowager Madame’s Shou’an Courtyard sent a glass-clad kang table—gorgeous and expensive—yet it shared the same origins as the glass items in Second Madam’s household.
“Grandmother put so much thought into this,” Cheng Zhao said.
The gift was both dignified and thoughtful, which surprised her.
From the elder branch came a yellow boxwood-based screen, also quite valuable. But from the painting on it, it had clearly sat in their storeroom for years.
Cheng Zhao accepted them all and went to thank everyone in person.
On the eighth day of June, Zhou Yuanshen finally returned from the capital’s garrison.
He had entered the city early in the morning again.
“Every time, he waits at the gate past midnight and comes in at dawn when it opens,” Cheng Zhao remarked to Second Madam with a laugh.
Second Madam replied, “Who would have thought he could be so attached to home?”
Cheng Zhao smiled.
By lunchtime, Zhou Yuanshen was already back from his post.
A small screen stood before the bed in the eastern side chamber of Chenhui Courtyard, blocking the view from outside and the light casting through the window lattice.
Cheng Zhao bit her lip as her hands fumbled to grip his shoulders.
Outside, sparrows chirped incessantly, hiding under the eaves to escape the heat, craning their necks curiously at the commotion inside until a sudden noise startled them into flying off into the blazing sun.
After bathing, Cheng Zhao sat by the window on the large kang, fanning herself.
Zhou Yuanshen glanced toward the inner room.
“...The bed’s leg moved out of place; it’s not broken, just bent. I’ll tell Nanfeng to call someone to fix it,” he said.
Cheng Zhao fanned herself vigorously.
She was flushed and sweating from the heat.
Her maidservant Qiubai brought in chilled fruits, frozen custard, and cold tea, setting them down on the small kang table before retreating.
“How have things been at home these days?” Zhou Yuanshen asked, sipping his tea.
Cheng Zhao replied, “Just the usual affairs, no disputes.”
“How many gifts did you receive? Let me see them later,” he said.
She agreed.
After two weeks apart, he seemed almost unfamiliar.
Cheng Zhao took a bite of the frozen custard, and after a long while, the heat within her mostly dissipated, and she finally felt a hint of relief.
“I’ve brought you something fun,” Zhou Yuanshen said, sitting beside her, calling for his page Nanfeng.
Nanfeng carried in a small box.
Cheng Zhao opened it, and upon seeing its contents, she found herself both amused and exasperated.