Chapter 145: Forced Marriage

The Ming'an princess scandal had roiled Dingjing, yet as days passed and the Dali Temple found nothing, Emperor Wenhui's temper flared again and again—officials fell in its wake—until the affair seemed fated to remain unsolved. Crown Prince Huangfu Hao of Qin was displeased too, but his own men also came up empty. In time the city's passion cooled. People still had to eat and live; no gossip could ward off winter cold.
In that bitter season the Shen house had its own upheaval.
Shen Yue was betrothed—and would marry soon.
The match was the Wang family of the yuanwailang rank, long favored by Shen Wan and Chen Ruoqiu. The Wangs had two sons; the younger was not yet ten. The elder, Wang Bi, twenty-four, already held office in the Hanlin Academy—learned, with a bright path ahead. A yuanwailang was no top minister, yet colleagues dealt with such men daily; ties to the Wangs could smooth one's career.
Shen Wan saw career. Chen Ruoqiu saw a household: Wang Bi was eldest, with no concubines yet; Shen Yue was bookish—if she won his heart, stood firm in the Wang manor, bore a son, she might live at ease.
Chen Ruoqiu had settled it with the Wangs herself; betrothal cards were exchanged. Shen Yue raged when she heard. The gentle Chen Ruoqiu this time was iron; Shen Wan would not hear pleas. Old Madame Shen was pleased—an unmarried Shen Yue was another mouth in hard times.
Shen Yue made such a scene that even indulgent Shen Wan, for once, locked her in the ancestral hall to reflect.
That night Shen Yue sat alone in the hall, weeping.
Scorch marks still marked the walls—ironic. Once Shen Miao had been imprisoned here while Ren Wanyun plotted a bride-swap with Shen Qing. Fire had broken out mid-scheme; Shen Xin was away; Shen Miao escaped. Shen Yue stared at the closed door. Since then Shen Miao had seemed blessed—Shen Xin, Luo Xueyan, Shen Qiu behind her—free to act. Shen Yue believed that if Shen Miao wanted Fu Xiuyi, her uncle and aunt would never block as Chen and Shen Wan had.
Shen Miao had loved Fu Xiuyi once. If old feeling returned, with Shen Xin powerful again—would Fu Xiuyi refuse? She was no longer the laughingstock of two years past.
The thought of Shen Miao with Fu Xiuyi twisted Shen Yue's gut. Why hadn't that fire killed her?
Footsteps at the door. Shen Yue thought Chen had sent food and snapped, "I want nothing. Go."
The sound continued. "I said leave!"
The door creaked open. Shen Dongling's head appeared.
Dongling peeked outside, shut the door, sat beside her, and offered a basket. "The guard is drunk. I slipped in. You haven't eaten all day, Second Sister—eat softly."
Shen Yue was touched despite herself—Chen and Shen Wan indifferent, yet this distant half-sister cared. Still she could not swallow.
"Don't trouble yourself. I can't eat."
"Why won't you marry Master Wang?" Dongling asked. "They say he's good, the house prosperous—you'd be mistress. Is it because you can't leave the Shen family?"
Shen Yue looked at her—innocent as a child though near the same age—pitied and envied her. She laughed bitterly. "Good or not—he isn't the one in my heart."
Dongling thought, then said, "Then you already love someone?"
"So what if I do? What if I don't?" Shen Yue's smile was bleak. "I was born Shen—no right to choose. Parents think only of office—never my heart. Sometimes I think death is kinder."
Dongling panicked. "Don't say that! Death is cheap—and final. Wang is a fine match; Third Uncle and Aunt wouldn't harm you. Many girls would envy you. If I could marry Wang, my mother would thank the gods daily."
Shen Yue shook her head—Dongling was foolish; they would never understand. The girl's envy only made Shen Yue feel her own cheapness.
Dongling shifted. "There's always a way. Remember Fifth Sister? Her marriage nearly happened—then Uncle and Aunt returned—and all was undone."
Shen Yue's heart jumped.
Shen Miao had been on the brink—saved by Shen Xin's return. Shen Yue had eavesdropped: Ren Wanyun meant Shen Qing and Shen Miao to swap brides.
If they could swap—why not she?
Her eyes slid to Dongling.
A ready choice—right here.
Dongling was a concubine's daughter, thought Wang Bi splendid, timid and easy to sway. No one better.
Shen Yue seized her hand. "Third Sister—how do you think I treat you?"
Dongling blushed. "You don't despise my birth. Among the sisters only you speak to me kindly."
Shen Yue had always played gracious on the surface; lately she sought Dongling often—outsiders thought them close.
Shen Yue smiled. "Then will you help me in trouble?"
Dongling smiled without guard. "Anything I can do—for you."
"Good." Shen Yue gripped tighter. "Will you marry Wang Bi for me?"
Dongling froze, tried to pull free. "No—other things, yes—not this—"
"You can!" Shen Yue wouldn't let go. "You said Wang is fine—your mother would rejoice. Third Sister—please!"
"It's too dangerous—if we're caught—"
Tears streamed down Shen Yue's delicate face. "Honey to you, poison to me. I love another—swore to marry only him. Any other match is death. I'll kill myself on the wedding day." She dropped to her knees. "Refuse me and you kill me. For sisterhood—for saying only I was kind—save my life!"
Dongling pulled her up, terrified. "Get up—don't frighten me!"
"One favor—will you watch me die?"
Dongling bit her lip at the wild, tear-streaked sister—and nodded. "I promise. Rise."
Shen Yue hugged her, thanking again and again—while her hidden face showed triumph.
"Still—we must plan carefully," Dongling said. "Bride-swap is grave. If exposed, neither of us wins. Third Uncle and Aunt will watch."
"Of course." Shen Yue released her, gripping her hands. "I'll tell them you acted only because I forced you. No blame on you."
Dongling smiled. "I trust you, Second Sister."
When Dongling returned to Caiyun Court, Aunt Wan was asleep—she had slipped out unseen.
Her maid Xinghua asked, "You truly mean to substitute?"
"Why not?" Dongling shut the door, sat, sipped tea, and smiled—a different woman. "Wang is official stock; Wang Bi's future is bright; the rear court is quiet. With my birth I'd never marry such a house. Miss this chance and I'm a fool."
"So Second Sister did you a kindness?"
Dongling laughed coldly. "Kindness? You think anyone in this house is an angel?"
"I help her fully—yet once we're exposed, Shen Yue's first move is to blame me—say I stole her match. Second branch knows the truth but won't anger Wang; they'll sacrifice me. Old Madame—a concubine's girl weighs less than a legitimate daughter. I'm always the one thrown away."
Xinghua stared. "But she promised to clear your name—"
"Is Shen Yue selfless? Why ask me to marry for her if she were?" Dongling shook her head. "Everyone here is wolf and tiger. Do as Fifth Sister does—help yourself. If I can leave this house, I won't look back."
"Tell your mother?"
"No. She's timid—would forbid it. After success I'll explain."
In Qiushui Court, Shen Wan sighed. "Yue'er hasn't eaten all day."
"She won't take what I send," Chen said. "I had Third Sister bring food—perhaps she ate."
"Third Sister?" Shen Wan frowned. A legitimate girl close to a concubine's daughter sat ill with him.
Chen smiled. "Since Elder Sister died, Yue'er was lonely. Third Sister is honest—let them play. No harm."
He said no more. Chen worried. "If she still rebels on the wedding day—"
"A few days locked up. You're her mother—soft words then. If she still makes scenes—find a way."
Chen's heart jumped—Shen Wan was rarely so hard. With Old Madame pressing concubines for him, unease grew. She embraced him from behind. "When Yue'er is gone, rest with me. You've been distant—office troubles?"
Usually his temper melted for her coquetry. Tonight he only patted her hand. "After the wedding."
Dismissal, plain in his voice.
Chen's heart sank; her arms tightened.
Shen Miao read Pei Lang's letter by the lamp.
Fu Xiuyi seemed to scent something between her and Prince Rui. To test, he had steered Huangfu Hao toward her over Ming'an—watch Rui's reaction if Qin moved against her. She was not surprised; years as his wife had taught her how Fu Xiuyi read traces. A fool would not have won the succession.
Huangfu Hao was not rash; Shen family was involved—he would probe first.
The letter's end puzzled her: if she truly had ties to Prince Rui of Great Liang, in trouble she might ask him—his men were many. Pei Lang and Xie Jingxing had no link; cautious Pei Lang would not urge her to seek help. Yet the hand was his. She burned the page.
On the table lay a red wedding invitation—Shen Yue to Wang Bi. Someone in the Shen house had sent it to Shen Manor; Shen Xin and Luo Xueyan ignored it; Shen Miao would not go. She did not believe Shen Yue would end with Wang Bi.
In life Shen Yue had clung to Fu Xiuyi for years—how accept another man now?
As she thought, the window tapped. Xie Jingxing was already there.
He eyed the red card. "Going?"
He knew of the match—Chen and Shen Wan would feast the city to show their daughter's worth; Wang knew many officials—invitations everywhere. All Dingjing likely knew.
"Not going." She tossed the card down.
He had expected it, slipped inside. She sat; he stood arms folded. "Shen Yue is in the hall. Dongling just visited."
She looked up. "You went to the Shen house?"
"A Great Liang prince—thief work?" She often teased him for wandering Shen gardens; now spying the whole clan?
He was speechless a beat. "Not me—my men."
She understood—yet wondered why he watched the Shen house. For her?
"Her wedding doesn't please you?" he asked.
"Shen house affairs aren't mine. Why rejoice? Besides—the marriage may not happen."
He smiled, sat opposite. "You seem sure."
"You came to tell me Dongling met her—so you mean bride-swap. Lucky she picked Dongling; with that girl, the swap may actually work."
In life Shen Miao had barely noted this sister. Reborn, she saw clearer: Dongling resembled Fu Xiuyi—patient, enduring years as a harmless concubine's girl—yet survived Ren Wanyun's grip. In second branch only Dongling and Aunt Wan seemed winners.
She would not underestimate her.
"How know swap?" he asked.
"Shen Yue won't marry Wang. Betrothal cards are exchanged—no retreat for her pride. Dongling appearing isn't chance—one wants out, one wants in. A fine trade."
He listened lazily—he liked watching her dissect enemies.
"Forced marriage?" he said. "Wang Bi suits Shen Yue."
"Not her heart's man." Shen Miao's smile was cold. "Such a stubborn soul will find a way."
"And you?" he asked suddenly.
She frowned.
"If one day you were forced to marry—what then?"