Tang Mo felt a creeping sense of dread in his chest. One wife from his past life had spent her days pining for his elder brother, always scheming to plant a green hat on his head. The wife in this life had him wrapped so tightly around her finger that she could strike an alliance with that bastard Tang Rong just to enjoy a joke at his expense.
Had he, in some past life, ground Tang Rong’s bones to dust? Was that why karma now made him suffer like this?
“Where are the pastries?” he asked, deadpan.
“I gave them to Xia’er,” Xin An replied. “The man may be disgusting, but the pastries didn’t do anything wrong.”
Tang Mo gave a low snort. “From now on, you’re not to engage with Tang Rong. No matter the reason. This is called losing eight hundred to hurt a thousand—feeding someone a pile of shit by tasting it yourself first.”
“Ugh!” Xin An shuddered. “Can you not say things that gross?”
“Where’s my property deed?”
“You think I can conjure it from thin air? I’ll sort it out tomorrow.”
Tang Mo got up to wash, then came back and climbed straight into her bed with an air of entitlement. Xin An sat cross-legged, eyeing him. He gave her a side glance.
“I’ve been running around all day. I’m sleeping here.”
She didn’t argue. After a while, she rolled over to face him.
“I still want to repay her in kind. I want Tao Yiran to suffer. So don’t you go defending her.”
Tang Mo opened his eyes. “Which of your eyes saw me defending her?”
“Both.”
“Then why won’t you let me do as I please?”
Xin An grew angrier the more she thought about it. After all the humiliation of her past life, she wasn’t about to bottle up her rage in this one. “You must be feeling sorry for her. What, do you have a thing for your sister-in-law?”
Tang Mo felt like even ten mouths wouldn’t clear his name. Seeing her glare sharpen, he could only groan.
“I was worried you’d be blind and softhearted again. What if she lured you back like before?”
“In any case, there’s no need for you to do it yourself. If you want a show, I can help. I’ve got ways.”
“What—so you’re going to eat the shit yourself?” she fired back.
He rolled his eyes. “Can’t you speak without making it disgusting?”
“Relax,” Xin An said. “I know what I’m doing. I’ll only talk to Tang Rong when absolutely necessary.”
Only then did Tang Mo grudgingly relent. He scooted closer. “I’ve told them to process the deed tomorrow. Wang You’s very grateful to you.”
“Mm.”
“He said, when his son gets married, he’d like you to attend the wedding banquet.”
“Alright.”
Tang Mo eyed her cautiously. “You’re mad, aren’t you?”
“No,” Xin An said, opening her eyes. “I was just thinking about how to help Wang You a little more. If there were a place to house the injured veterans… even a workshop that doesn’t turn a profit, just so they could support themselves, it’d ease the burden.”
Tang Mo admitted, “Most of them just make stools and benches to sell—barely enough to survive. If they have sons, at least they can go find work. But daughters… that’s harder.”
“He’s been thinking about setting up an embroidery workshop for the women and girls, but embroidery isn’t something just anyone can do. Most don’t have the skill.”
Tang Mo turned over. “No rush. We’ll figure it out as we go.”
“Sleep.”
“Mm.” Xin An closed her eyes.
Tang Mo, having already napped earlier, lay awake much longer. He turned quietly and stared at her faint silhouette in the soft light, watching her until well past midnight.
—
In the days that followed, Xin An only left the estate once—to visit the Tang Yong residence and chat with Madame Gu for half a day. She returned with a basket of grapes. Otherwise, she strolled the gardens, admired the flowers, and enjoyed a rather leisurely life.
Tang Mo even brought home a little dog for her to play with.
The only drawback? Tang Rong had started his new post at the Ministry of Rites, and it was a busy season. He returned home late each night. Tao Yiran remained behind closed doors, “nurturing her health,” which meant there wasn’t much drama to enjoy—and Xin An found herself vaguely bored.
Then—
“Second Young Madam, the Old Madam has returned. She asks that you come to Spring Glory Hall right away.”
The banquet at the Duke of En’s residence was fast approaching. The Old Madam had timed her return precisely for the occasion.
“Grandmother?”
When Xin An arrived, she was taken aback—Old Madam had gotten incredibly tanned.
“My sweet, obedient granddaughter-in-law,” the old woman groaned, “just look at your grandmother—what am I going to do like this?”
Charcoal-dark and full of sighs, the Old Madam sat while Ganlu held out a new set of clothes made from fabric Xin An had gifted her. The deep violet color, which normally evoked nobility and richness, now only made her look even darker by contrast.
“I was hoping to dazzle all those old ladies at the banquet, but now… I’ll be lucky if I’m not laughed out of the room. Maybe I should just feign illness and stay home.”
A love of beauty is universal, and the desire to outshine others doesn’t fade even at seventy or eighty. The Old Madam deeply regretted her passion for fishing—she’d practically turned herself into a lump of coal in the process.
It had been such fun at the time… and now the regret was useless.
Xin An counted the days and smiled. “There are still five days left—plenty of time.”
“For the next five days, don’t step outside your room. Stay out of the sun. Use the nourishing skin cream consistently. You can also mix pearl powder with honey—it helps brighten the complexion. Didn’t the Imperial Medical Bureau have whitening recipes? I’ll go there right now. We’ll treat your skin for five full days. On the morning of the banquet, we’ll apply a light layer of powder. It should do the trick.”
With that, the Old Madam pinned her hopes entirely on Xin An. “Go quickly, then. Grandmother is counting on you.”
Xin An went out at once. She returned not only with fragrant skin-revitalizing creams but also with a female imperial physician in tow. After examining her, the medical officer concluded that the Old Madam’s skin was not only tanned—it was sun-damaged. Both internal and external treatments were needed.
“Physician Zhao, I leave my grandmother’s face entirely in your hands,” Xin An said solemnly. “By the fifth day, she must be radiant.”
It wouldn’t be easy, the physician admitted—but with the generous reward Xin An offered, and the fact that the marquisate lacked no rare medicinal ingredients, she accepted the task at once.
With a professional tending to her skin, the Old Madam finally relaxed. Then she remembered the promise she had made back at the estate. She instructed Ganlu to select two treasures for Xin An to take back—items meant to help pave the way for Tang Mo’s official career.
Xin An grinned. “Grandmother, your grandson says he wants to rise on his own merit. He told us not to seek connections or pull strings, so we haven’t prepared any gifts for anyone.”
“A fine, upstanding young man.”
The Old Madam was delighted. Back in the day, when the old Marquis was alive, he never gave gifts to curry favor. It was always others who came bearing gifts, hoping to win his approval. But now that the marquisate was in Tang Gang’s hands, things had strayed off the proper path. His first thought whenever something needed doing was to find someone to grease—sending gifts, pulling strings.
Even when his son was appointed to the Ministry of Rites, he started scheming before the boy even set foot in the office—dreaming of getting money from her to “prepare” gifts. Ridiculous.
“Tell that Second Boy,” she said firmly, “that Grandmother believes in him. Let him stretch his arms and take a proper leap. What obstacle can’t be overcome?”
“Back in your grandfather’s time, he could barely read. All he had was bravery. Even after winning battles, he didn’t rush to drink or feast—he raided the enemy’s command tent and stole their strategy books. He learned as he fought. That’s how he made his name. And life now is far better than back then, isn’t it?”