Chapter 166: Duke Chen Guo Eats Vinegar
Huan Qingtang arrived at Nonghua Courtyard.
It came as a surprise.
Cheng Zhao had changed into a homespun linen blouse and was seated in the eastern side room, eating chilled milk curds. When her maid announced the visitor, she almost thought she had misheard.
“Invite the elder sister-in-law in,” Cheng Zhao said, setting down her bowl.
Suyue brought water for her to rinse her mouth, asking softly, “What’s she doing here?”
“We’ll find out soon enough,” Cheng Zhao replied.
After rinsing, she straightened her collar and went to the main hall to see Huan Qingtang.
Huan Qingtang wore a light purple linen short jacket embroidered with sprigs of crabapple blossoms, paired with a plain white silk long skirt. The outfit surprisingly highlighted her refined yet subtly alluring grace.
She was evidently a beauty, carrying herself with composure since becoming a widow.
Cheng Zhao generally admired such beauties, but Huan Qingtang’s bearing too closely resembled that of her own third sister. With her sister’s precedent setting the standard, Cheng Zhao’s gaze toward Huan Qingtang cooled considerably.
“Why has the elder sister-in-law come?” she asked with a smile, then ordered the servants to serve the finest tea.
Huan Qingtang handed a small bundle to Cheng Zhao. “These are insect repellents and heat-relief remedies. I thought they might come in handy when accompanying the imperial entourage to the hunting grounds.”
“I’ve already prepared some. Still, many thanks to the elder sister-in-law,” Cheng Zhao said.
“Sister-in-law, these are for the Lord Duke. He is the head of the household, and our very lives depend on him,” Huan Qingtang replied.
Cheng Zhao was startled.
Having been through many things recently, she was no longer easily surprised, yet this caught her off guard.
She looked at Huan Qingtang.
Huan Qingtang, perhaps thinking she had successfully provoked her, fixed her gaze on Cheng Zhao. “If you don’t wish to pass them along, just throw them away.”
Cheng Zhao was taken aback.
After a moment’s pause, she laughed.
It was faintly amusing, so her smile carried no deeper meaning—just simple mirth. “Elder sister-in-law, why would I discard your kind gesture? It must have been difficult for you to bring them over. Cuiyun Courtyard is close to the inner study; you could have delivered them there directly.”
She added, “Couldn’t get in? I’ll speak to the Lord Duke and ask him to tell Nanfeng to let you in next time.”
Huan Qingtang’s expression tightened. “Sister-in-law, your words are unkind. There’s no need for us to be like this. Harmony is what matters.”
Cheng Zhao replied, “First you accuse me of being unkind, then you blame me for not being harmonious. Weren’t you the one who broke the peace?”
Huan Qingtang’s face changed color dramatically.
She still carried her proud demeanor, but after enduring several exchanges, she realized Cheng Zhao wasn’t taking the bait at all—she was utterly outmatched.
She stood up. “It’s getting late. I’ll take my leave now.”
She turned to leave.
From behind, Cheng Zhao raised her voice slightly. “Elder sister-in-law, go slowly.”
After she left, Suyue and Qiubai were both irritated.
“She’s declaring war on you, young mistress,” Suyue said, quick-tempered as ever. “And you’re letting her off?”
Cheng Zhao wasn’t angry.
She found the whole thing absurd from start to finish.
Everyone understood that there was no room for two legitimate wives beside the Lord Duke. Cheng Zhao knew it, and Huan Qingtang knew it too. What amused Cheng Zhao was that Huan Qingtang had gone out of her way to come and try to anger her.
She wasn’t about to get mad.
Even if the joint heirship arrangement went through—the worst-case scenario—Cheng Zhao wouldn’t give an inch.
“...Should we throw the bundle away?” Qiubai asked.
Suyue said, “Throw it! It’s disgusting to look at!”
Cheng Zhao replied, “Why throw it? Give it to the Lord Duke.”
Qiubai looked at her with concern.
Suyue blurted out, “Have you gone mad with fury?”
“If I don’t pass it on, it looks like I lack magnanimity as the legitimate wife. If I do give it to him, it proves she had a private exchange before having a proper title among us—she’ll owe me a debt for the rest of her life,” Cheng Zhao explained.
Even if the worst happened and the joint heirship succeeded, Cheng Zhao would still have the upper hand over her.
Huan Qingtang had handed her a weapon; throwing it away in a fit of pique would have been a wasted opportunity.
The next day they were set to depart.
That evening, Zhou Yuanshen came to Nonghua Courtyard.
As in the early days of their marriage, his visit meant they would share the same bed.
Cheng Zhao had already bathed.
After letting her hair dry, she applied osmanthus hair oil, filling the room with a rich, fragrant scent.
She loved the smell; it put her in a good mood.
However, Zhou Yuanshen seemed to dislike strong odors intensely. After their wedding, she only used this oil when he wasn’t around.
Since she wouldn’t be able to wash her hair for several days during the trip, Cheng Zhao indulged herself with it tonight.
When Zhou Yuanshen entered, she was sitting on the couch by the window, reading.
She was flipping through a historical text she had read countless times before.
“...That’s osmanthus,” he remarked.
“Yes, hair oil,” she confirmed.
“Very fragrant,” he said, his tone unreadable—whether displeasure or praise was unclear.
His dark eyes were serene.
Cheng Zhao put down her book.
“Should we turn in early?” she asked. “We have to rise early tomorrow.”
Zhou Yuanshen gave a low grunt of assent.
As he stood up, his gaze fell on the small bundle lying beside the couch.
He frowned slightly. “What’s this?”
Cheng Zhao studied his expression. “Have you seen a bundle like this before, Lord Duke?”
“It has a tassel on it. I’ve seen this kind of tassel a few times.” His frown deepened. “How did it end up here?”
Cheng Zhao noticed the light pink tassel tied at the bundle’s knot.
“The elder sister-in-law brought it over,” she said.
Zhou Yuanshen’s face darkened.
“She said they were insect repellents and heat-relief remedies, specially for you, Lord Duke, fearing you might suffer while away,” Cheng Zhao explained, picking up the bundle and handing it to him.
Zhou Yuanshen swept his hand across, sending the bundle rolling to the floor.
Some medicine bottles inside clinked crisply.
The servants waiting outside held their breath, their footsteps freezing. For a moment, Nonghua Courtyard fell into absolute silence.
Zhou Yuanshen’s chest rose and fell subtly.
He kept telling himself to stay calm.
Cheng Zhao had no feelings for him—he could accept that. She had never promised anything.
He had held back.
An ordinary marriage would suffice; many couples were no better than they were. Cheng Zhao knew how to enjoy life, and their nights together were pleasurable.
He had many great matters to attend to; he couldn’t afford to be distracted.
He thought he had managed well.
But now, Cheng Zhao had handed him this bundle, making it painfully clear that she held no place for him in her heart.
He was an outsider to her.
Given the chance, she would push him away.
Just like the Dowager Madame had—treating him like a stud.
Zhou Yuanshen’s resentment surged like a towering wave.
He stepped forward and fiercely pulled Cheng Zhao into his arms.
He held her tight.
She was in his embrace, her jade-like skin delicate. He refused to believe he couldn’t leave a mark on her.
He refused to believe he was so ineffective as to leave no trace in her heart.
He leaned down and kissed her.
Her lips were so soft they seemed to melt at his touch. Zhou Yuanshen had wanted to bite down hard, to make her feel pain—to make her feel him.
But his teeth clenched, and he couldn’t bear to hurt her.
How could he ever bear to harm her?
He squeezed his arms tighter, longing to press her into his very being.
“Cheng Zhao!” All his burning rage and frustration dissolved into that single cry, as if trying to prying open a crack in the door to her heart.
“Cheng Zhao, look at me,” he demanded, gripping her chin.
Her gaze was dazed upon him.
“Look at me.” His eyes seemed to glisten with moisture.
Cheng Zhao looked bewildered, then rose slightly to wrap her arms around him, kissing him.
Her face obscured his line of sight.
She was in his arms—but she was not truly in his eyes.