Chapter 203: Divine Will
The inner courtyard of the General's residence had been tidied up in advance.
The inner courtyard was not large—one main courtyard with three rooms, two side courtyards, and a small rear garden; behind the garden stood a row of low buildings that blocked out the noise of the back street.
The main courtyard had been scented with incense for several days, and since it was golden autumn, there was no chill dampness or musty smell.
“...You’ll have to make do for now,” Zhou Yuanshen said to Cheng Zhao. “Tomorrow we’ll have your maidservant brought over.”
Cheng Zhao: “Everything is already provided. Where’s the hardship? It’s very nice.”
Only two women were in the courtyard—wives of deputy generals who usually managed the main courtyard’s affairs. They weren’t accustomed to serving others and looked very nervous when they saw Cheng Zhao and Zhou Yuanshen.
Everything had been prepared in full, all conveniences at hand.
The bedchamber was rather small, with no screen before the bed; a layer of bed curtains hung above, and within that another layer of gauze netting, layered thick and heavy, enough to block out the light.
After washing up, Cheng Zhao let her hair down herself and sat before the dressing table to comb it.
Her black tresses were soft and smooth; she swept them to the right and combed slowly.
“This comb is very good for combing—better than the ones we use,” Cheng Zhao said.
Zhou Yuanshen picked it up and glanced at it: “The steward picked it up at the market. It’s not as fine as the ones you use.”
“A comb is for combing hair—what use is fineness? This one works very well,” Cheng Zhao said.
Zhou Yuanshen: “Take it with you. Have the steward buy more.”
“Alright.”
He caught Cheng Zhao’s hand.
Cheng Zhao looked at him in the mirror, catching the emotion in his eyes, and whispered: “I have to get up early tomorrow.”
Zhou Yuanshen bent down and kissed her hair: “Then let’s be quick.”
Cheng Zhao: “...”
He lifted her into his arms.
Cheng Zhao wasn’t prepared; the comb slipped onto the corner of the dressing table, and she was seated upon it in his embrace, her black hair cascading down, cool and silky, brushing across the back of his hand.
Zhou Yuanshen’s breath hitched, his throat bobbing.
He pressed close and kissed her.
One of Cheng Zhao’s hands braced against the tabletop, the other clung to his shoulder, but she still couldn’t steady herself. She was like a small boat in wind and waves.
“Cheng Zhao,” Zhou Yuanshen murmured close to her ear, “Cheng Zhao, are you happy?”
Cheng Zhao had no leisure to answer, because he hadn’t stopped.
She bit her lip.
“Cheng Zhao, am I a husband who pleases you?” he asked again, his lips brushing her cheek.
Cheng Zhao glared at him: “You...”
“Do you need me to try harder?” he asked.
Clearly up to no good.
Cheng Zhao cupped his face in both hands, losing her support—her back pressed against the bronze mirror. She kissed him with force.
Then she bit his lip, neither hard nor soft.
Oil poured onto a raging fire—Zhou Yuanshen could no longer bother teasing her.
The comb on the corner of the table fell with a clatter to the blue brick floor—a clean, crisp sound, like a silver vase shattering.
Zhou Yuanshen wrapped his arms tightly around Cheng Zhao. Cheng Zhao did the same. The couple was rarely so close, their breaths seeming to merge into one.
He buried his face into her hair, breathing in her fragrance, and for a moment Zhou Yuanshen had the illusion of having wandered into a fairy realm.
After a long while, the room grew quiet, and Cheng Zhao and Zhou Yuanshen gradually cooled down.
After washing, the bed curtains were drawn, and within the darkness was complete.
Zhou Yuanshen held Cheng Zhao in his arms.
Cheng Zhao said: “The comb broke.”
“Buy another.”
“Alright.”
The next day, the steward delivered a new comb.
Zhou Yuanshen was to go to court; Cheng Zhao was to return to the Marquis’ residence.
The road to the imperial city and the Marquis’ residence was the same, so the couple shared one carriage.
When they reached the gates of the Chen Marquis residence, a deputy general lowered the mounting stool. Zhou Yuanshen got down first and helped Cheng Zhao by the hand.
The gatekeeper’s page and the steward all saw it.
The steward came forward to greet them.
“The Marquis is almost late, isn’t he? You go on ahead,” Cheng Zhao said.
Zhou Yuanshen: “I may not be back for midday meal. Eat on your own.”
“Yes,” Cheng Zhao said with a smile.
Another deputy general had a horse ready, waiting by the gate.
Zhou Yuanshen did not continue in the carriage—he mounted the horse and rode toward the imperial city.
Cheng Zhao stepped through the gates of the Marquis’ residence.
“Third Young Madam—why are you returning from outside?” When Cheng Zhao arrived at the Chenming Hall to handle affairs, a bold and curious steward asked her with a smile.
Cheng Zhao: “Yesterday His Lordship and I went out to the night market, and it got too late, so we stayed at the General’s residence.”
The stewards were taken aback.
Huan Qingtang heard this and briefly lifted her eyes toward Cheng Zhao.
Everyone in the Marquis’ household knew that the Xiansi courtyard had termites, and the Marchioness had moved her to her own courtyard.
But no one expected the Marquis and his wife to stop staying at the Nonghua courtyard.
It seemed unreasonable—which made it all the more fitting.
At midday, Cheng Zhao went to the Chenhui courtyard for her meal. Suyue and Qiubai had been waiting for a long time; the page Nanfeng was there too.
“How is the situation?” Cheng Zhao asked Suyue.
Suyue: “Second Concubine is very proper—give her anything and she uses it, no complaints. But she rose at dawn to pay respects to you and the Marquis.”
“Doesn’t she know we didn’t stay in the main courtyard last night?” Cheng Zhao asked.
Suyue: “She blew out the lamp and went to bed early.”
“She seems quite well-behaved,” Cheng Zhao said.
Suyue: “We’re all watching her, and it’s the Nonghua courtyard—a clever person should know to keep quiet.”
Cheng Zhao smiled: “Then she counts as a clever one.”
Suyue was a little worried: “Clever people aren’t easy to deal with either, Young Madam.”
“No matter—success or failure is up to heaven,” Cheng Zhao said.
Suyue: “...”
Cheng Zhao asked again: “And the matter I ordered—how has it been handled?”
Suyue: “Nanny Li has already arranged things. The fastest way news travels in this household is through the main kitchen. The kitchen will speak on your behalf.”
Cheng Zhao nodded.
Suyue sighed in admiration again: “Young Madam, you are truly formidable. It was the Grand Matriarch who put the main kitchen in your hands, yet it’s helped you stand firm.”
The main kitchen was a good place.
Not just because of the generous pickings.
The entire household’s gossip and talk revolved around the main kitchen. If a matter didn’t first spread from the kitchen, it often carried little weight.
When Cheng Zhao married into the family, she hadn’t such great ambitions as to take over the kitchen first.
It was Madam Song and the Grand Matriarch’s people battling in the kitchen, and the Grand Matriarch needed a third party to stir the pot.
She sent Cheng Zhao to the main kitchen.
Cheng Zhao not only went—she first pushed out Madam Song’s people; then she drove away Nanny Qin, casting out the Grand Matriarch’s trusted confidante.
That was how she firmly took hold of the main kitchen.
Today, if she wanted to spread a message, without this territory of the kitchen it would take twice the effort.
Suyue couldn’t help but admire her mistress’s cleverness.
“You see—success or failure is up to heaven,” Cheng Zhao said again.
Suyue mulled it over, then smiled and nodded: “This servant worried too much. You’re right—success and failure are not in one’s own hands.”
Cheng Zhao smiled and nodded.
Because victory and defeat never lie in the hands of the schemer—Cheng Zhao did not get proud when she won, nor dejected when she lost.
That attitude, in fact, made everything go smoothly for her.
Within half a day, the entire Marquis’ household knew that the Marquis and his wife had not slept at home the night before.
The Shou’an courtyard heard of it as well.
The Grand Matriarch frowned: “Why did they go stay at the General’s residence?”
Nanny Sun said: “They say they were out too late last night and couldn’t make it back in time.”
“They just moved in a concubine, and now they don’t stay in the Nonghua courtyard. This Marchioness’s behavior is truly hypocritical—not in the style of the Cheng family,” said the Grand Matriarch.
Then she asked, “What do the servants say?”
Nanny Sun: “They all praise the young couple for being so devoted to each other.”
"The servants' words are deliberately spread by someone. It seems Madam Cheng had planned this all along," the Grand Lady said.
Nanny Sun agreed.
Every step Cheng Zhao took was followed by another trap—she calculated every move. She even had the servants spread rumors first, seizing control of public opinion.
"Cheng Zhao is truly troublesome, Grand Lady," Nanny Sun said. "She must be dealt with."
The Grand Lady fell silent for a long time.
Removing Cheng Zhao was easy; defeating Zhou Yuanshen was the hard part.
And standing behind Cheng Zhao was precisely Zhou Yuanshen—he was her greatest shield and support.
This unremarkable grandson had grown far too powerful in too short a time.
The Grand Lady could no longer control him.
She even suspected that, given time, even the Emperor would be unable to restrain him.