Chapter 93: The Vicious Sister-in-Law Returns

That New Year in Ming Qi's sixty-ninth year, snow fell all night—auspicious omen, harvest to come. Common folk rejoiced and prayed.
For the general's mansion in Dingjing, it would be a year unlike any other.
Second branch had lost a legitimate daughter; the mistress of the house had gone mad. First branch—most powerful—and the other two branches had grown distant, friction plain where warmth once was.
The Huang family, once betrothed to Shen Qing, now hated the Shen house outright—but Shen Xin and Luo Xueyan spent little time in the capital, so wrath did not fall on them. As for the Wei family once linked to Shen Miao, Luo Xueyan had explained in person: misunderstanding only. The Weis were honest, made no trouble; Shen Xin promised future favor in court—the Weis gladly accepted.
For Shen Miao, then, the New Year was rather good. No Fu Xiuyi, no Prince Yu, no Ren Wanyun or Shen Qing—some things were changing step by step.
She was pleased. Others were not.
In Rongjing Hall Old Madam Shen sat while Shen Yuanbai crawled beside her—yet she looked impatient, resentment on her withered face.
"First branch treats me with less respect every day. Not a copper extra from the public purse this year! Palace gifts—all locked in their own courtyard! What do they mean? Do I still count?"
She fumed whenever she thought of it. Shen Xin used to send court rewards to the household account—he and Luo Xueyan were rarely in the capital; aside from trinkets for Shen Miao, surplus meant little to them. Old Madam had tasted the benefit for years. Now, with friction in the family, Shen Xin withheld silver—in her eyes, filial rebellion.
"Don't anger yourself, Old Madam," Nurse Zhang soothed. "Perhaps when tempers cool, Master will send again. Likely he's displeased over how Fifth Miss was treated."
"How was Fifth Girl treated?" Old Madam raged. "All these years I fed and clothed her—first branch still not satisfied? He doesn't want me as mother! Ungrateful wolf! And Luo Xueyan—Fifth Girl's turned stiff as a board—who's coaching her behind my back?"
Nurse Zhang, seeing her wrath, paused. "Fifth Miss has grown—heavier thoughts. Still she was raised at your knee; once she obeyed your every word—respect in her heart. Summon her, speak kindly—girls are easy to coax. She's first branch's treasure—hold her and you hold them all."
Zhang was shrewd. Old Madam had been a courtesan—petty tricks aplenty—but running a great house exceeded her. Without Zhang's counsel, scandal would have multiplied.
Old Madam sneered. "Me—flatter her? One look and I see that dead woman's shadow—years in the grave and she still holds the General's heart. Always favoring first branch—and I must please her? She turns my stomach!"
Zhang wanted to argue—but a maid at the door: "Second Young Master—you've come."
Yuan strode in.
"Yuan'er." Old Madam's tone softened. Yuanbai on the couch grinned at Second Brother.
Yuan did not pick up the child—only smiled. "Came to see Grandmother."
"What is there to see." Old Madam scolded—yet she looked pleased. Among grandsons she loved Yuan best—young talent, already in office, praised everywhere—face for the family, weight in her heart.
"By luck I got a jar of Jade Snow Cream—brought it for Grandmother. Don't waste your grandson's care."
He handed her the bottle, smiling.
Surprise—then mock anger. "At my age—are you mocking me?" Yet she could not hide delight.
A singer's daughter never quit rouge and powder; Yuan knew her taste—the cloud over her heart lifted.
"Grandmother's still young—such things belong on you." Yuan flattered without blinking. They chatted; Yuan was clever, Old Madam already fond—he chose words that pleased her. Rongjing Hall turned harmonious; even Yuanbai was ignored.
After a while Yuan seemed to remember something, casual: "Grandmother—cousins arrive in a few days, don't they?"
Old Madam paused, cold. "What cousins—stay a few days and go." Before her singing days she had kin—perhaps they sold her to the brothel. Ancestry in Suzhou; when the General brought her to Dingjing as his wife, ties were cut. This year they found her again and sent two grandchildren "to visit"—everyone knew it was a handout.
A woman who forgot profit for kin after years apart felt no warmth. She did not wish to discuss it.
Yuan smiled. "I've never met these cousins—about Fifth Sister's age, I'd guess." He sighed. "Elder Brother's back in the capital—I hear Uncle and Aunt are choosing a bride for him—big matter on their minds."
"Shen Qiu—choosing a wife?" Old Madam sat straight. "Why wasn't I told? Yuan'er—do you know which family?"
"I don't—but with Uncle and Aunt's standing, surely a powerful house would be best. Elder Brother's prospects already bright—with a wife's family behind him, wings only grow."
The more Yuan spoke, the worse Old Madam looked. After a long pause, sour: "Still has to suit the girl!"
Yuan played ignorant. "Most important—Elder Brother must like her. If he likes her, modest birth might suffice. Who knows—our little cousin catches his eye—kin upon kin."
"Nonsense!" Old Madam frowned, reflex denial. "What status is she—first branch would never look at them!"
"Idle talk—Grandmother needn't mind." Yuan laughed the topic away, spoke a little more, took leave—and on his way out glanced at Nurse Zhang without a word.
After he left Old Madam brooded. She knew Yuan's words were absurd—Shen Xin and Luo Xueyan would never accept such low birth; Qiu was no lecher—the match was near impossible. Yet she was tempted: if Qiu married high, power would rise again. She could not bear Qiu thriving—if he took her own grand-niece, no gain for first branch, only drag on his wings—a fine word.
Zhang massaged her shoulder. "Old Madam—I think Second Young Master had a point." Pause. "If Young Master and the cousin girl matched—kin upon kin—she's your side of the family. Easier to manage." Lower: "Match made—silver follows easy. Her silver is your silver."
Old Madam's eyes lit. Yes—marry Qiu to her grand-niece, control the niece, control first branch.
Zhang continued: "Better still if cousin boy and Fifth Miss—then first branch's silver and property—all yours."
Each word hit Old Madam's desires—delight at seizing first branch wealth, stirring chaos within. Then worry: "Easy to say—but my grand-niece and nephew—from humble doors. First branch has seen the world—why would they look?"
"My Old Madam—" Zhang smiled—"you forget the old tricks. Men and women—how complicated? A little wit—nothing impossible."
Old Madam's imagination stirred. She laughed too—trying for coquetry in old age, grotesque instead—that aged spring made her ugly. "True—love is just that little thing." She met Zhang's eyes—understanding passed between them. "Someone—fetch the chest from my room. My grand-niece and nephew—long apart—deserve greeting gifts."
Outside, Yuan heard low laughter from Rongjing Hall, cold flash in his eyes, and walked away slowly.
……
West courtyard—Shen Miao handed Mo Qing ten silver notes.
"Go to Baoxiang Tower. Find a girl called Liuying. I've checked—a hundred taels buys one night. Take the silver, sit with her all night, do nothing. Return every three days."
At "Baoxiang Tower" Mo Qing's face went green; at "Liuying" green turned red. He would not take the notes. "M-Miss—you're joking."
"When have you seen me joke." Her face stern. Mo Qing thought—since knowing her, she had never played tricks.
Yet—a brothel—too absurd. He shook his head, flushed, stammered: "Miss—why must I—go to Baoxiang Tower."
She looked at him. Last life he had served her long—no woman tied to him. Years a celibate guard—she had thought palace rules; now this stammering—what kind of guard captain?
"Go because I say go. If Liuying asks why—say nothing. Hear me—a mute."
Mo Qing: "……"
Still unwilling—Shen Miao sharp: "You won't obey?"
"I wouldn't dare!" Immediate regret—eight-foot man, few rivals under Qiu—yet one shout from her and panic. He served Qiu, not her—why this carefulness?
Before he solved it she continued: "Liuying's born seductress—countless men at her feet. Not the house's top girl but popular. I chose you because you're upright, will strong—sit all night means sit all night. Don't take advantage. Fail—and leave the Shen army."
Mo Qing flushed green and red—never so mortified. She spoke bluntly and scanned him head to toe—pause at his waist—if she weren't his mistress he'd have stormed off. He felt like meat on a block.
When his face turned purple she released him. "Go. Remember."
He fled. Jingzhe returned just then. "What's wrong with Guard Mo—looks in pain—trouble?"
Mo Qing was always steady—first time so wretched.
"Nothing—shy." Shen Miao said. "News?"
Jingzhe wondered at "shy"—then: "Clear. Old Madam's kin—cousin girl and boy—in two days."
"Is that so?" Shen Miao smiled faintly. "The cousin girl—given name Jing Chuchu?"
"How does Miss know?" Jingzhe stared.
Shen Miao did not answer—hid killing intent in lowered eyes. Of course she knew.
Last life's sister-in-law.
……
Two days later—clear sky. Shen Miao rose early, watched Qiu and Shen Xin spar in the cold yard, sweat flying, guards cheering—when Old Madam's maid Xier ran over: everyone to Rongjing Hall—cousins from Old Madam's family had arrived.
Qiu scratched his head. "Which cousins? Never heard of them."
Luo Xueyan understood quickly. "Madam's mother's kin—never mentioned before—sudden visit."
Shen Xin had little reaction. Old Madam was his stepmother—her origin never fit great-house decorum. Suzhou folk, no word for years. Yet they came from afar, young—Old Madam valued them—they must show courtesy.
Qiu set down his sword, changed clothes with Shen Xin—turned to find Shen Miao at the door, expression hard.
He came over. "Little sister—why the long face? You were fine a moment ago."
She looked at him, smiled. "Nothing."
In Rongjing Hall laughter reached them before they entered. Since Shen Qing's affair Old Madam had been grim—never this merry. Surprise on Shen Xin's and Luo Xueyan's faces. Inside—Chen Ruoqiu's branch and Shen Gui's branch already present. Before Old Madam stood a young man and woman.
Old Madam, seeing Shen Xin: "This is your uncle's family." To Shen Xin: "My brother's grandson and granddaughter—Guansheng and Chuchu."
Jing Guansheng. Jing Chuchu.
They turned and bowed to the Shen party.
Shen Miao did not move—calm eyes on both.
Guansheng eighteen, Chuchu sixteen—prime years. Guansheng plain, slightly plump, fair-skinned, faint scholarly air—brown robe, decent cloth, neat cut—yet shrewd light in his eyes spoiled the gentleness.
Chuchu was quite pretty—perhaps Old Madam's kin shared her bone structure—petite beauty, softer than Old Madam's youth. Cherry silk pomegranate skirt, autumn-lotus jacket—refined. Flower face, moon grace—yet shy, timid, eyes on the ground, afraid to look up.
When greeting Shen Miao she smiled: "Cousin—why only look at the floor? My shadow isn't down there."
Chuchu startled, looked up helpless, glanced at Old Madam. Old Madam frowned. "Chuchu is new and timid—Fifth Girl, mind your manners."
Bare favoritism—Shen Xin and the others darkened. They would not let Shen Miao yield to some unrelated kin; their warmth toward Chuchu cooled at once.
Old Madam noticed nothing. Yuan frowned, glanced at Shen Miao.
Shen Miao smiled. "Timid? Stay a few days—you'll settle in. One gets familiar here." Kind words, even warmth—but listeners with ears heard something else. Chuchu smiled shyly, looked down, twisted her handkerchief—as if one glance would blush her. Guansheng smiled at Shen Miao with cultured grace.
Shen Miao's eyes never touched Guansheng—fixed on Chuchu—and she heard her own teeth grind.
Chuchu was always like this—shy, timid, harmless, head down as if anyone could bully her. So when she was found drunk in bed with Qiu, everyone cursed Qiu as beast. Who guessed that pure white paper would cuckold Qiu, kill her lover by mistake, put Qiu in prison? Military errors after marriage, the fall that broke Qiu's leg—likely all Chuchu's work. In the end Qiu's body in a pond; Chuchu fled with first branch silver.
Most poisonous hearts—but this rabbit-gentle face was serpent-cold. Qiu, though he did not love her, had been honest after marriage—his open nature would not let her suffer.
Chuchu was an ingrate through and through.
Shen Miao stared. Even careless Qiu felt wrong. "Little sister?"
Guansheng: "Fifth Sister—why stare at Chuchu?"
Chuchu stepped back, hid behind Guansheng—frightened. Shen Miao smiled. "Cousin is too beautiful—I looked too long."
Yue bit her lip—Shen Miao already stole her light; now Chuchu—misery in her chest.
Chuchu blushed. "Sister is the beautiful one."
Shen Miao smiled, neither yes nor no.
Old Madam cleared her throat. "Chuchu and Guansheng are guests—family. Fifth Girl, Elder Boy—show them around."
Not Yuan, not Yue, not even Dongling—only Shen Miao and Qiu. Shen Miao's lip curved; glance at bowed Chuchu; smile warm as honey: "I'll take good care of Sister."
Usually clear-faced—among the women she alone looked unhurried. That slow smile held unnameable charm. Chuchu held; Guansheng stared spellbound.
Old Madam pleased. "Good—go then. I have words for Chuchu alone—years apart—how is home?" Loving mask—Chen Ruoqiu stirred with thought. She bowed and left with the rest.
Outside Rongjing Hall Guansheng asked Shen Miao: "Fifth Sister—what do you like at home?"
Shen Xin and Luo Xueyan ahead had not heard. Qiu, alert, came to Shen Miao's side, eyed Guansheng silently.
Shen Miao smiled. "Little—mostly reading."
"Good—I like books too." Guansheng said. "Perhaps Cousin could teach me."
She glanced at him—contempt Qiu caught—surprised at hostility to a stranger on first meeting. Shen Miao: "Never mind. Cousin's family library is thin—teach you?" She sighed. "I'll send books—rare editions."
Open disdain for humble birth—Guansheng's face stiffened.
Inside Rongjing Hall Old Madam held Chuchu's hand. "So fresh at your age—betrothed yet?"
Chuchu softly: "Not yet, Old Madam."
"Not yet—" Old Madam smiled deeper. "Looks and heart like yours—if you could be a Shen daughter-in-law."
Chuchu bowed her head, cheeks red, fingers tightening. The Jing family were common merchants—heard Grandfather's sister prospered in Dingjing, sent grandchildren hoping favor. At first sight of Shen wealth Chuchu's eyes dazzled—marry into the general's house, eat and dress forever, great lady's title—excitement she must hide.
Old Madam patted her hand. "Your age suits first branch's Qiu well. Deputy general now—and still unmarried."