Tang Mo was quite fond of Ershan. He liked the boy’s spirit so much that he had arranged for Ershan to train in martial arts with the household guards. Ershan practiced diligently, though it remained to be seen whether he would live up to Tang Mo’s expectations in the end.
“Young Madam, the Madam has returned. She asks that you come see her.”
A maid came to deliver the message. Xin An rose to her feet and, with her attendants in tow, had only just stepped outside when she ran into Tang Rong. Before she could even greet him, Tang Rong spoke first. “Sister-in-law, are you going to see Mother?”
“Elder Brother as well?”
Tang Rong nodded. “I heard she returned and wanted to speak a few words with her.”
“Why not go with Sister-in-law? Is her health improving?”
“She’s much better. She’ll be able to pay her respects tomorrow.”
Xin An smiled. Since entering the residence, Tao Yiran had claimed illness and never once gone to pay respects—a matter that would draw criticism in any household. Tang Rong was on the rise and highly concerned with his public image. There was no way he’d allow Tao Yiran to remain cloistered in Spring Blossom Courtyard indefinitely.
So today’s argument must’ve been about this very issue.
“Sister-in-law brought lunch to Second Brother today, didn’t she?”
Tang Rong was trying to find an excuse to talk to Xin An for longer. In his eyes, she had originally been meant to marry him. From what he’d heard, Xin An had once admired him deeply before the wedding. A strange thought had taken root in his mind: no one’s affections could vanish so completely. Perhaps Xin An still had feelings for him and had only married Tang Mo out of helpless resignation.
Especially now that she and Tang Mo still slept in separate quarters—it only added fuel to his assumption that Xin An’s heart had not fully shifted.
A dark, smug satisfaction crept in. He wanted to stir Xin An’s heart—not only to spite Tang Mo, but perhaps to pull Xin An toward him once more.
The Tao family’s influence in court, and the Xin family’s silver—he wanted both.
“It’s only natural for Second Brother to feel a little out of place on his first day with the Northern Garrison. He’s used to a carefree life in the residence. Being suddenly confined somewhere takes time to adjust.”
Xin An sighed. “I should have done my homework. I didn’t realize the garrison provided meals and nearly made a fool of myself.”
Tang Rong stopped walking and looked at her with concern. “Did Second Brother scold you for it?”
Goosebumps instantly rose on her arms. Xin An clenched her fists tightly, thinking Tang Rong’s face at that moment was truly begging for a beating. She swallowed her frustration, forcing a smile.
“He didn’t get the chance. The moment I sensed the mood was off, I left right away.”
Tang Rong’s expression relaxed, though he still wore a trace of worry. “About the wedding day… in the end, I failed you. I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you. If you ever find yourself in difficulty, come to me. If it’s within my power, I’ll never refuse.”
Xin An thought Tang Rong was sick—with a very specific disease: the kind that made one covet his sister-in-law. First it was Tao Yiran, and now it was her?
Did he think himself so irresistible?
She didn’t reply, fearing anything she said might tarnish her image. Instead, she gave a faint smile. Tang Rong took that as agreement and was immediately in excellent spirits.
When Wang Shi saw the two of them appear together, she was visibly surprised. Xin An spoke up first to explain, “I ran into Elder Brother this morning. He mentioned wanting to speak with Mother. Then I saw him again just now—seems he truly had something important to say. Should I excuse myself?”
Wang Shi understood at once—this was a calculated act to smooth things over, staged after days of deliberation.
“We’re all family. No need to act like outsiders. You may stay.”
Xin An sat to one side. Tang Rong stepped forward, lifted his robe, and knelt before Wang Shi.
“Father’s actions in protecting me have wounded Second Brother’s heart. I feel deeply troubled by it. In a moment of desperation, I acted recklessly. I’ve regretted it bitterly ever since I returned—so I’ve come to apologize to Mother.”
“Mother,” Tang Rong continued, “Second Brother is my own flesh and blood. I only ever hope he lives a smooth and prosperous life. I’ve never had any intention of competing with him. There are only the two of us brothers in this household—we should support one another, advance and retreat together. Once I gain a solid footing in the Ministry of Rites, I will certainly do all I can to pave the way for him and ensure he has a bright future.”
Wang Shi gestured for him to rise. “I know you’re a filial child. I was only speaking out of anger at the time. What happened with your father has nothing to do with you. I’ve watched you grow up—though we are not bound by blood, we are closer than any true mother and son. How could I ever truly be angry with you?”
Tang Rong stood and bowed slightly. “Mother’s kindness and understanding are my greatest blessings.”
“Yi’ran is doing much better,” he added. “She’s been saying these past few days that she feels guilty for not coming to greet you and wishes to apologize in person tomorrow.”
Wang Shi replied gently, “I know her health has always been delicate. I heard she was the same back in her family home. How could I blame her? Tell her not to rush about greeting me. What matters most is that she nourishes her health and bears you a son or daughter as soon as possible. That would be the greatest act of filial piety she could offer.”
In truth, Wang Shi didn’t want Tao Yiran to come at all—she preferred not to see her and would rather she stayed hidden indefinitely.
“She’s being cared for by Xueyu,” she added. “A physician will come every fortnight to take her pulse. After all, the child she carries is of your blood. You should at least send something to her from time to time. It would give her something to hold onto.”
If Wang Shi hadn’t brought it up, Tang Rong would’ve forgotten entirely. He quickly bowed. “Thank you for the reminder, Mother. I will see to it.”
“Mhm.” Wang Shi nodded.
Then she added a warning: “Don’t let your wife know about this. With her weak constitution, she mustn’t be burdened with worry.”
Tang Rong thought Wang Shi was being overly cautious. He’d never sensed that Tao Yiran was the jealous type. Aside from that one moment of discomfort, she had acted as though nothing had happened. He had once considered comforting her, but seeing her so indifferent, he had given up the thought.
With everything that needed to be said now said, Tang Rong took his leave. Before departing, he nodded toward Xin An, his figure retreating with practiced elegance.
Xin An felt utterly repulsed—the tea in her cup had lost all flavor. She turned slightly. “Mother, was there something you wished to discuss when you had me summoned?”
Wang Shi wanted to tell her about Liao Zhi, the Commandant of the Northern Garrison. “He’s not someone easy to befriend. The Liao family also hails from a military lineage, but for two generations, they failed to produce any outstanding generals—until Liao Zhi’s generation.”
“Old Master Liao died suddenly two years ago, and Liao Zhi’s father followed just a month later. From then on, the entire Liao household fell under Liao Zhi’s command. His second and third uncles both submit to him. The Liao family has many sons, and in recent years they’ve risen quickly in rank. It’s said that Liao Zhi enjoys the Emperor’s deep trust and favor.”
Xin An frowned. “If that’s the case, how could Father not have known? Why would he choose to offend someone like that?”
A favored subject of the Emperor was not someone like Tang Gang—who relied on the merit of his ancestors—could afford to provoke.
Wang Shi ordinarily didn’t have access to court affairs. And though Xin An had lived an entire life more than most, her previous life had always orbited around Tang Rong. She only bothered to inquire into matters when they concerned him. Most of the time, she hadn’t even stepped beyond the gates of the marquis residence. And given how long ago that was, she couldn’t recall anything particularly useful about the Liao family.
So, the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law—both relatively ignorant of court affairs—simply looked at each other in silence.
At last, Wang Shi concluded, “The most likely reason is that your father wanted to protect his beloved son’s reputation. People outside had already started murmuring, saying that Tang Rong was all show and no skill. How could your father—who dotes on his son like his life—allow his precious boy’s name to be sullied?”
The way she kept calling him “beloved son” reeked of irony.