Chapter 26: A Marriage of Convenience

The time traveler understood the entire development and significance of the imperial examination system, and naturally, she knew the prestige that came with the title of Tanhualang (the third-place winner in the highest imperial exam).

But standing on the shoulders of history, she didn’t have to look up to a Tanhualang with the same awe as the people of this era.

She knew he was knowledgeable and talented—but she saw him without any filter.

In her eyes, he was simply a relative’s child.

Yes—a child.

She was the adult.

An adult could understand and forgive a child for doing foolish or selfish things. Most of the time, an adult could even laugh such things off. That was her attitude toward the younger brothers, sisters, nieces, and nephews of the Yin family.

Children needed to be taught. She would occasionally guide her younger sisters, but never too deeply—because they had their own parents to teach them, and most of the time, their foolishness or selfishness didn't really harm her. So she had always been gentle with them.

But this time was different.

This was a growing adolescent, involved in a serious matter that directly and severely affected Yin Zhi's own vital interests.

So, she didn’t hold back.

Monks in the distance occasionally glanced over, seeing a young man and woman gazing into each other’s eyes in the sunlight. Beautiful and handsome, side by side—it was a pleasing sight. Even the monks couldn’t help but smile.

Shen Ti’s lips moved slightly, but this Tanhualang, who had previously defeated nearly all the renowned local scholars in debate at the Yin family banquet, now had no rebuttal.

Because everything Yin Zhi said was true.

Once the façade of hypocrisy was shattered, he was forced to face his real self.

What haloed Tanhualang? He was just an immature child—one who couldn’t resist his parents’ authority, a child who lacked the courage to take responsibility.

In the process of growing up, realizing that you’re not as kind, not as brave, not as noble as you thought can be painful.

But enduring that pain is how one matures.

Shen Ti had never felt so ashamed in his life. From his neck to his entire body, he burned with embarrassment. It felt like he was standing naked before someone.

The halo that had surrounded him ever since becoming Tanhua—even he had been dazzled by it—completely faded in front of Yin Zhi.

The young man saw himself clearly, endured the pain, and took a deep breath to swallow all the shame and guilt.

Yin Zhi watched him breathe deeply, calm his chest, and lift his gaze again.

He pursed his lips, made a respectful bow, and lowered his body:
“It was shameless of me. You were kind, and I took advantage of that. Please forgive me, elder sister.”

When he stood back up, he was ready to face it all.

“What I said just now—please forget it all. Just act like you never heard it and go on as usual. I will resolve this matter myself. I won’t drag you into it.”

He turned to leave.

But he didn’t get far. Yin Zhi called out, “Cousin—”

Shen Ti stopped and turned back.

Yin Zhi asked, “How do you plan to resolve it?”

Shen Ti fell silent. Because in truth, he still had no solution. If he had one, he wouldn’t have been coerced into coming to Huaixi in the first place—exactly as Yin Zhi had guessed.

Yin Zhi immediately understood.

Though he had achieved top honors, Shen Ti still couldn’t defy his parents.

And that wasn’t entirely his fault. Not at his age. Even in history, many renowned officials had been forced to divorce their wives or marry others—they couldn’t resist their families either.

It was a problem of the times, not the individual.

“You have no way out,” she took a step closer and accurately summarized his situation. “The woman you love is now a servant under official control. If your parents beat her to death—what could you do? Even if they’re kinder and just sell her to become someone else’s concubine, what could you do?”

“You, a dignified Tanhualang, raised on the teachings of the sages, someone who studied self-cultivation and governance—I don’t believe you’d truly disobey your parents.”

Seeing him press his lips together again, Yin Zhi knew she was right.

“So all you can do is protest a little—and only a little. If you cause too much of a stir, your reputation will suffer. The emperor, the prime minister, the top scholars—none of them would look favorably on that. It would ruin your future.”

“A Tanhualang personally appointed by the emperor couldn’t possibly not understand that.”

“So even if your parents force you to marry—drag you to the ceremony, or even have someone else stand in for you and finish the marriage—it could still be considered valid. You’d have a wife.”

“And you—would have no choice but to accept it.”

She was right. Shen Ti was painfully aware of his dilemma.

He looked at Yin Zhi and saw certainty in her expression and a unique light in her eyes.

“Elder sister,” he bowed again, respectful, “please teach me.”

Her gaze alone told him—she had a way.

Yin Zhi’s eyes sparkled.

Actually, ever since Shen Ti told her that Lady Shen wanted to pair the two of them together, she had already thought of something.

This brief conversation gave her a deeper understanding of this cousin she barely knew. She saw what kind of person he was—and her idea solidified.

“I can’t stop you from getting married. Under current laws and customs, it’s simply impossible. Even if you cause a scene or flee to some far-off post, your parents could still arrange a marriage on your behalf. Even if you never consummate it or return home, all you’d be doing is ruining another innocent girl’s life.”

“What did she do to deserve that—being sacrificed for you and your beloved?”

Once again, everything she said was true.

Another reason Shen Ti didn’t want to marry was because he couldn’t bear to ruin an innocent girl’s life. If he did marry, he wouldn’t treat her poorly—meaning he would break his promise to Feng Luoyi.

He would become a man who went back on his word.

But just when Shen Ti felt despair, Yin Zhi offered him a different path.

“But you,” she looked straight at him, “could really consider marrying me.”

Shen Ti was stunned.

“Your goal is to protect her, right?” Yin Zhi said. “Marry me, and I’ll help you protect her.”

Her tone was firm, but her proposal was unbelievable.

He stared into her eyes. She did not flinch.

He asked, “What do you get out of this, elder sister?”

“I get a lot.”

“I’m seventeen. Hard to marry off. My family’s already prepared for me to marry down. But how far down can we go? We’re just rural gentry. Can’t go so far as marrying into a servile household. So it’d be a poor one. And don’t call me shallow—who doesn’t want a good life? If I had no choice, I’d manage with a dowry and try to live frugally. But if the Shen family is put in front of me as a choice… I’m not stupid.”

“I talk freely with you because you’re younger—you’re a brother, and I’m your elder sister. But marriage? Shouldn’t I worry about a cruel mother-in-law? An abusive husband? A greedy family scheming for my dowry? I’m afraid of all that.”

“But if my mother-in-law is Aunt Shen, my husband is you, and the family is the capital’s Shen clan… I’m not afraid at all.”

“Your mother’s character is clear. You’re right in front of me. I’ve never met your father, but he once married below his status to repay a favor—and has treated your mother well all these years. That says enough about his character.”

“If I can marry into such a family, I truly have nothing to fear.”

“That’s what I want.”

Men face their challenges; women have their own dilemmas. Shen Ti understood.

When Yin Zhi laid all this out, he was convinced.

For someone intelligent, lies never work. Logic wins them over.

Everything she said aligned with her own interests. Women couldn’t be officials or merchants or travelers. Their fate lay in marriage. A good marriage meant happiness; a bad one, misery.

Shen Ti thought for a moment, then said, “But cousin, you must understand…”

“I understand,” Yin Zhi said. “Marriage for a woman means serving in-laws, honoring the husband, raising children. I can do all of that. If you have children with someone else and want to register them under my name, that’s fine too.”

“I’m marrying you not to be your wife, but so I can live a good life.”

“If you marry someone else, there’s no way to guarantee your wife won’t harm the woman you love. But if you marry me, we won’t be husband and wife—we’ll be partners, siblings, allies living together. Isn’t that perfect?”

“You give me a good life, I help you protect your beloved.”

“Cousin, what do you think? Is this trade fair enough?”

Shen Ti stared at her. “Can you really do that?”

Not see me as a husband, but as a partner?

Yin Zhi said, “If I break my word, you can divorce me.”

She thought for a moment. In this era, a woman relied on her husband or son. She offered a clever suggestion:
“It’s best if she has your child soon—ideally a son. Then she’ll be secure. Aunt and Uncle, for the sake of a grandchild, won’t treat her too harshly.”

Yin Zhi was already planning for Shen Ti and his beloved to produce a legitimate eldest son before she entered the household.

That way, she could become a mother effortlessly, without the pressure of childbirth. More importantly, if she, as the legal wife, endured such an injustice, the Shen family would owe her. And with that guilt…

Well.

The past nine years had passed peacefully, without need for schemes. But now—even she couldn’t escape the mindset of inner-court strategy (宅斗).

Still, Yin Zhi wasn’t disheartened. She had lived in her own household until now—relationships held together by blood. Naturally, there was no need for plotting. But once she married into someone else’s family, those ties were gone—it was like entering a workplace. Strategy became essential.

Yin Zhi’s mental abacus was clattering away, but Shen Ti didn’t play along.

“How dare you assume—Feng and I are pure! We’ve never overstepped any bounds.” The boy’s face tightened as if hearing something filthy and needing to clear it up.

Yin Zhi: “……”

Ah, the boy before her really was still that same kid who wouldn’t enter a room without announcing himself.

For some reason, Yin Zhi’s scheming faded, replaced by softness.

She said gently, “I don’t doubt your character. I was merely suggesting the most secure path. You’ve always been a good child—I know that.”

The Yin Zhi just now was so different that Shen Ti finally felt he saw the cousin he had always imagined.

Though he had always tried to avoid the Yin girls, he hadn’t been entirely unaware of Yin Zhi.

In fact, when someone is remarkably good-looking—man or woman—it’s hard not to notice them.

His cousin didn’t have Feng Luoyi’s scholarly elegance, but she was strikingly beautiful. She often smiled before speaking, her voice was gentle, and her thoughts were delicate.

He knew she had always been that kind of girl. And now, it seemed she hadn’t changed.

Though she was only a few months older, she always acted like she was talking to a child—which was mildly annoying.

“Cousin,” she said, eyes bright, “we’ll just be husband and wife in name. We help each other, keep out of each other’s business, and cover for one another. How about it?”

Shen Ti thought for a moment, considered all the logic and pros and cons, then looked up and said, “Alright.”

Kui’er, under the porch, was counting the baby swallows in the nests—six nests, thirty-two chicks in total.

Bored, she looked toward the open courtyard at the young lady and the young master.

A passing monk also glanced over—whether deliberately or not.

They all saw—in the brilliant spring sunshine—the handsome young man and beautiful girl suddenly clap their hands together three times.

Huh? What was that? Normally, that meant an oath.

The monk scratched his bald head in confusion. Could they be pledging themselves to each other in broad daylight?

Surely not?

Amitabha.