RMBLCUCS – Chapter 59: A Shameless Pair

Xin An wished to build connections with Yan Wenhui and begin opening doors within the circle of noblewomen in the capital.
Yan Wenhui, on her part, wanted to help Liu Mingyuan maintain a good relationship with Tang Mo. Though Xin An was the daughter of a salt merchant, her beauty and poise made her a worthwhile acquaintance.

And so, the two women quickly hit it off. Not long after, they were shopping the night market together. Xin An, who initially hadn’t planned to buy much, soon had Tang Mo laden with bags. Liu Mingyuan wasn’t spared either. The two men exchanged helpless smiles and followed obediently behind, reaching into their sleeves for silver at every stall.

After Yan Wenhui made another two purchases, she began to wonder—how was Liu Mingyuan’s purse still holding up?

“Look at this, Sister,” Xin An said, showing her a pouch embroidered with green bamboo. “Isn’t the stitching exquisite?”

The comment pulled Yan Wenhui’s thoughts back. She ran her fingers over the delicate embroidery. “It’s lovely. You should get it—perfect for personal use or gifting.”

She had been dying to ask about the marriage switch; after all, everyone loves a little gossip. But the setting wasn’t right.

“Will you be free in a few days?” she asked instead. “I’ve invited some of my closest friends from my maiden days to see an opera in three days’ time. Would you care to join us?”

“If you’re willing to bring me along, I’d love to,” Xin An replied without hesitation. “I’ve never seen a capital opera before. I don’t know many people in the city, and I’d be truly grateful for the chance.”

Yan Wenhui smiled warmly. “It’s settled, then. I’ll have someone deliver an invitation tomorrow so it’s all proper.”

Xin An nodded, and Yan Wenhui leaned closer, dropping her voice. “You should smile more, Sister. Even I—a fellow woman—was dazed for a moment. Doesn’t Second Brother Tang go weak in the knees?”

Xin An blinked, then burst into a brighter smile, her ears turning pink.

When the market began to quiet, Yan Wenhui finally parted reluctantly. Xin An waved goodbye as Tang Mo helped her into the carriage.

Back on their own journey, Yan Wenhui mused, “My brother said Tang Mo cherished this wife he ‘traded’ for. I hadn’t believed it—but now, I see he was telling the truth. Then again, with a face like hers, it’s no wonder.”

Liu Mingyuan commented that Tao Yiran wasn’t bad either—known throughout the capital as a talented beauty, and from a proper official family. That made a difference.

“You men don’t understand a thing.”

Yan Wenhui had never liked Tao Yiran. “She’s always acting so prim and proper. Her clothes are practically colorless—like mourning robes. Is she afraid people might notice her?”

Tao Yiran preferred pale, muted garments. At banquets, surrounded by women in bright reds and greens, she stood out effortlessly—drawing the attention of most young men and stirring the ire of many women.

Liu Mingyuan, unaware of these nuances, naturally admired women of talent and grace. Tao Yiran, being both beautiful and accomplished, fit that mold. But seeing his wife’s mood shift, he quickly added, “Of course, no one compares to you.”

With a huff, Yan Wenhui changed the subject. “What’s with your sudden burst of generosity? You’ve been throwing money around these last few days.”

Liu Mingyuan stiffened but replied casually, “Tang Mo pays for his wife. I couldn’t let you pay for yourself—how embarrassing would that be? I’ve just been gritting my teeth and bearing it. If you keep shopping, I really will run out.”

She didn’t press further, but made a mental note to ask her brother later.

By then, Tang Mo and Xin An had returned to the residence. No sooner had they stepped inside than Steward Zhang, one of Tang Gang’s men, rushed over.

“Second Young Master, the Marquis asks to see you.”

Tang Mo gave a noncommittal grunt and started walking in the opposite direction. When Zhang repeated himself, he replied, “It’s dark out. I need to see my wife home to Qiu’shi Courtyard first.”

Just because he was summoned didn’t mean he had to go right away.

Absolutely not.

He held out his arm to Xin An. “Mind your step. Go slow.”

He looked as if Xin An could barely walk on her own.

Suppressing a laugh, Xin An’s eyes sparkled with mischief. She suddenly cried out, “Ouch!”—and pretended to twist her ankle.

“It hurts—I can’t walk,” she said pitifully.

Had it not been for the smile tugging at her lips, Tang Mo might’ve believed her. He was ready to tease her but remembered Steward Zhang behind them and switched to a tone of concern.

“I told you to watch your step—how’d you manage to twist it?”

“Is it serious?”

Xin An winced. “Can’t walk.”

Tang Mo took a deep breath and rolled his eyes. Resigned, he bent down and scooped her up in his arms. After a few steps, he muttered under his breath, teeth clenched, “You should eat less. You’re heavy as a rock.”

Xin An beamed, delighted. Being carried was wonderful. “Try to sound a little more loving. Who knows how long this ‘injury’ might last?”

Tang Mo sighed. “I must owe you something. You used to act like a nun—now you’re all coy and fragile. Did you go mad from repression?”

She didn’t look fat. Why was she so heavy?

Xin An chuckled. “Well, I never got to enjoy this before. I’m just making up for lost time.”

He grunted. “You’re making up everything on me, aren’t you?”

“Possibly.”

Tang Mo picked up his pace. No helping it—the faster he walked, the less she weighed.

When they finally reached the room, he practically tossed her onto the bed and collapsed beside her, panting. “Seriously, eat less. You’re like a sack of bricks.”

Xin An flipped over and laughed freely, kicking off her shoes and sitting cross-legged. “Aren’t you going to see your father?”

“No.”

Tang Mo had grown bold. “My wife sprained her ankle. She was crying her eyes out—I had to apply medicine, comfort her… It took forever to calm her down. How could I not stay?”

Nothing good ever came from his father calling at this hour.

“It’s probably because Second Uncle visited. He wants to make a fuss now.”

“You’re right,” Xin An said with a smile. “But still…”

“When your father calls, you should go. But when you go—that’s the real question.”

Tang Mo’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Exactly. I’m a good son. How could I ignore Father’s summons?”

“I’m going to wash up and sleep,” Xin An said, slipping off the bed.

Tang Mo watched enviously. She was a new bride, adored by her mother-in-law, and even her father-in-law didn’t dare scold her. She did whatever she pleased.

“Next life, I want to be the woman.”

“Sure,” Xin An said, grinning. “We’ll be sisters.”

The thought of putting flowers in his own hair made Tang Mo shiver. On second thought, maybe being a man wasn’t so bad after all.

Meanwhile, Tang Gang had waited and waited, only to be told Xin An had twisted her ankle and Tang Mo was applying her medicinal wine.

He sighed and decided to just go to bed.

Late into the night, as he slept soundly, an unrepentant Tang Mo arrived—loudly.

“Father! Are you asleep? I’m here!”

“Father! Faaather!”

In the darkness, Tang Gang opened his eyes. Wang Shi lit a candle and sat up. “The second boy must have something urgent.”

Tang Gang rose, threw on a robe, and opened the door—clearly not pleased. “What is it?”

Tang Mo bowed with exaggerated formality. “Didn’t you ask Steward Zhang to call me? My wife twisted her ankle—swollen and aching—and started crying from homesickness. I had to rub in the medicine and coax her to sleep. Once she was settled, I came right away.”