APSIL -Chapter 67 The Origin of the Betrothal

Who said respectable households never allowed unrelated men into the women’s quarters?

After finishing dinner with the seemingly gentle Grand Madam in Qing’an Hall, Zhang Shou looked at the east wing, where three adjoining rooms had been opened into one. Maids and servant women bustled about, hanging countless lanterns until the place was brilliantly illuminated.

He could not help wanting to ask that very question.

Of course, judging by Grand Madam’s age, she was old enough to be his great-grandmother. Even if she allowed him to stay in Qing’an Hall, no one in the Zhu family would dare criticize her for disregarding propriety between men and women.

Only after the roomful of women gradually withdrew—though cheerful laughter still floated in from the outer room—did Zhang Shou glance at Qi Liang and Deng Xiaodai, who looked so awkward they hardly knew where to put their hands and feet. He cleared his throat.

“Qi Liang, how much of your examination essays do you still remember? Recite as much as you can.”

Qi Liang froze for a moment, but all the complicated emotions brought on by entering such a grand household vanished instantly. Taking a deep breath, he answered steadily, “The prefectural examination consisted of the classics essay in the first session, then two regulated essays and three policy essays. Oh, and there was also one mathematics problem. This year they just revised the examination format. I heard it was one of Prefect Wang’s new reforms…”

Deng Xiaodai sat quietly beside them, listening as Qi Liang racked his brain to recall the essays he had written several days earlier.

As memories of his own hectic days working in the Accounts Office of the Shuntian Prefecture surfaced, his fingers unconsciously twisted together, and his brows furrowed.

The marriage registrations stored in the Accounts Office were countless. Normally, records belonging to the greatest noble families were far beyond the reach of a low-ranking clerk like him.

Yet persistence had paid off.

He had finally found an opportunity to examine the Zhao State Duke’s household archives.

He had investigated everything—from the ancestry of Duke Zhu Jing’s first wife to that of his second—but when it came to Zhu Ying’s marriage registration…

There wasn’t one.

The Accounts Office of Shuntian Prefecture had no marriage record whatsoever for Zhu Ying.

Yet judging from Grand Madam’s attitude toward Little Master Zhang just now, she clearly treated him like one of her own family—far warmer than an ordinary grandmother would treat her future grandson-in-law.

Could it be that the so-called childhood betrothal had only ever been a verbal agreement, with no formal marriage contract ever drawn up?

Inside the east wing, Qi Liang continued reciting his examination essays.

Outside the room, A-Liu stood silently on guard.

No one had ordered him to do so. In fact, Zhang Shou had invited him inside earlier, but A-Liu had stubbornly remained outside, completely ignoring the curious glances from the maids and servant women in the corridor and courtyard.

Meanwhile, in the main hall, Grand Madam still sat upright in the seat of honor, prayer beads slipping one by one through her fingers, her gaze unfocused.

Only when Nanny Li entered did she emerge from her daze.

“Grand Madam, the young lady has returned to her quarters. Before leaving, she repeatedly reminded us not to neglect Young Master Shou. She also mentioned how he saved her on the night of the fourteenth…”

“Enough.”

Grand Madam interrupted abruptly before letting out a quiet sigh.

“Hua Qi’s message had already told me everything. I could see it myself—that child is broad-minded, courageous, and resourceful. Back then…”

The moment she heard the words back then, Nanny Li hurriedly glanced toward the doorway. Seeing Nanny Jiang standing guard like a guardian deity—just as A-Liu stood outside the east wing—she quickly stepped closer.

“Grand Madam, why bring up those old stories? It’s been so many years.”

“I can’t help it.”

Grand Madam’s eyes became distant as she smiled bitterly.

“Back then, Consort Yu and Ninth Daughter-in-law were close friends. Both were heavily pregnant. Restless from staying indoors, they persuaded His Majesty and Jing’er to accompany them incognito to burn incense and pray for safe deliveries.”

“Who could have expected that the Deposed Prince would learn of it and secretly collude with the Maitreya Sect to incite a rebellion?”

“Consort Yu and Ninth Daughter-in-law both insisted that Jing’er escort His Majesty away first. The two women fled toward the servants’ quarters.”

Nanny Li’s expression grew complicated.

“The master has blamed himself for that ever since. They say His Majesty does as well. Otherwise, Consort Yu wouldn’t have remained the emperor’s favorite despite bearing only Princess Yongping.”

Grand Madam seemed not to hear.

Her fingers gripped the prayer beads so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

“In the servants’ quarters, Consort Yu and Ninth Daughter-in-law encountered Scholar Zhang’s widow, who was also heavily pregnant and had fled there.”

“She carried a bloodstained sickle and said she’d wounded one of the rebels.”

“Ninth Daughter-in-law knew some martial arts, Consort Yu wasn’t some helpless noblewoman, and Widow Zhang was fighting desperately to protect the child in her womb.”

“The three women tricked several rebels into approaching, killed them together, seized their weapons, and escaped through a side gate.”

“They changed out of their bloodstained clothing into monks’ robes they found in the temple and hid in Widow Zhang’s home not far away.”

“But then labor pains struck.”

“It was Widow Zhang who desperately pounded on the neighboring midwife’s door.”

“Unfortunately, the midwife was dead drunk.”

“If not for Widow Zhang’s kitchen maid, Madam Wu, all three of them might not have survived.”

Nanny Li hurriedly tried to interrupt again.

“Isn’t that why the master has always spared no expense celebrating the young lady’s birthday every Mid-Autumn Festival?”

But Grand Madam continued as though she hadn’t heard.

“Ninth Daughter-in-law and Consort Yu both delivered safely. The midwife merely glanced over, announced they were girls, and laid them aside.”

“But Widow Zhang couldn’t deliver.”

“Madam Wu panicked completely.”

“Ninth Daughter-in-law and Consort Yu were far too weak to help.”

“Widow Zhang was truly fierce.”

“She ordered the midwife to stop worrying about her and simply cut the baby out.”

“The moment she heard, ‘It’s a boy,’ she lost consciousness.”

“All three children were premature—tiny little things.”

“If that year’s Mid-Autumn weather hadn’t been unusually warm, they probably wouldn’t have survived.”

“When Hua Qi finally found them, there were three newborns inside the house—one boy and two girls.”

“Consort Yu and Ninth Daughter-in-law survived.”

“Widow Zhang had just died from massive bleeding.”

“Madam Wu was crying uncontrollably.”

“But no one could tell which baby girl belonged to whom.”

“The midwife, sobered by Hua Qi’s interrogation, was terrified and remembered nothing.”

“And Madam Wu was too busy mourning her mistress to notice.”

Thinking back to that chaotic time, Grand Madam felt her temples throbbing, recalling how she had mobilized the household retainers to search frantically for her daughter-in-law and Consort Yu.

What followed afterward made her sigh deeply.

“When the matter reached the Empress Dowager, she found herself at a loss over how to raise the three children.”

“I wanted to bring the boy home as well.”

“But Jing’er told His Majesty that although the boy could be raised by the Zhu family—or even the imperial family—his origins might one day be exploited by schemers, creating endless rumors.”

“So he should instead be raised outside the capital under the guidance of a good teacher.”

“As for the girls…”

“Whether raised as an imperial princess or as a daughter of the Zhu family, either would receive every possible luxury.”

“If, when they came of age, Widow Zhang’s son proved upright and accomplished, then whichever girl we married to him would make an excellent match.”

“It would also repay Widow Zhang’s kindness in sheltering Consort Yu and Ninth Daughter-in-law and summoning the midwife.”

“As for posthumously honoring Widow Zhang, that could wait until the children were grown.”

“Madam Wu insisted on raising the boy herself because Widow Zhang had once shown her great kindness.”

“She said Widow Zhang had already chosen the child’s name—A-Shou.”

“Because the rebellion had only just been suppressed, and officials were already criticizing the Empress Dowager over the incident, Jing’er sought His Majesty’s approval.”

“He secretly dispatched several veteran soldiers to protect them.”

“He also sent the crafty Old Liu and his wife.”

“And Madam Wu conveniently ‘picked up’ an orphan named A-Liu.”

“Fortunately, she never learned Consort Yu’s true identity.”

“She always believed they were simply members of the Zhao State Duke’s household.”

Grand Madam smiled faintly.

“Other than Jing’er and Ninth Daughter-in-law, only you and Jiang know this story within the household.”

“A-Shou was frail from childhood.”

“Madam Wu guarded him like a mother hen.”

“Knowing she herself came from a scholar’s family before misfortune forced her into Widow Zhang’s household, Jing’er secretly had traveling peddlers deliver books to them.”

“We heard the child learned to read astonishingly quickly…”

“But his health was simply too poor.”

“The year Grand Secretary Ge visited, A-Shou never even came out to meet him.”

“From then on, Jing’er never again mentioned the engagement in front of me.”

“If not for my moment of weakness this time, I truly thought I’d carry this secret into my grave.”

“When the time is right, I’ll tell A-Shou everything.”

“As for honoring Widow Zhang…”

“I must first discuss it with Consort Yu before bringing the matter before the Empress Dowager and His Majesty.”