Chapter 60: Bedchamber Gambits

Early in the morning, after paying her respects at Jingrong Courtyard, Feng Luoyi walked back.

Zhaoxiang was all smiles and excitement. “I told you the Hanlin does care for the concubine.”

Though Shen Ti hadn’t come in person yesterday, he had sent a gift—a pure, translucent jade bracelet that was anything but cheap.

In Zhaoxiang’s view, sweet words and vows of eternal love were all illusions. Real affection showed in titles and tangible things like gold, silver, jade, and pearls.

And Hanlin had given both to Feng Luoyi.

Yet, there was no smile on Feng Luoyi’s face. She had smiled earlier in front of Shen Ti, but only because Zhaoxiang had helped her see clearly the night before. No one likes to look at someone constantly wearing a grief-stricken face.

Besides, on the night they consummated the marriage, Shen Ti had said things she could understand clearly. He believed he had done his part—offering her the best he could give.

Even though that “best” was miles away from what she truly wanted, he believed he had given enough, had done enough.

So if she continued to cry and complain, it would only be annoying.

But as soon as she left Yin Zhi’s Jingrong Courtyard, the smile disappeared from her face—because how can a person who isn't happy still smile so easily?

Zhaoxiang stepped closer and lowered her voice. “Miss, did you notice how generous the Young Madam is? It’s true what they say—background really makes a difference...”

...It’s just that spine of hers—she can’t keep it straight.

Feng Luoyi paused for a moment.

Shen Ti had said she no longer needed to perform morning greetings. At that moment, her heart turned cold.

Because Lord Shen had always wanted to send her away. Madam Shen may have pitied her, but ultimately, she would follow her husband's will.

She had lived in fear all this time.

Even Shen Ti, who once defied his parents for her, didn’t dare stir up too much trouble.

Because they all knew—whether it was him or her—if either of them crossed the line, broke the rules, and ruined reputations, he might remain untouched. But she?

She could vanish overnight.

She was a government slave, bought with silver by the Shen family. Whatever happened to her was within their rights.

If she disappeared, would Shen Ti search the ends of the earth for her?

If she died—at least that would be clean.

But what if she fell into someone else’s hands? Became another man’s concubine? Or not even that—just someone’s servant?

Or what if she was sent somewhere vile and dirty?

If that happened, would Shen Ti still take her back without hesitation, as if nothing had changed?

The emperor had been merciful. The women from these disgraced official families were not sent to the government brothels or military camps. Instead, they were classified as official slaves—still a sliver of hope.

And the Shen household was that sliver.

For the past two years, she had huddled in a remote little courtyard, never daring to step beyond its gate—for fear that her last hope would be cut off.

So when Shen Ti suggested she stop paying respects, she immediately grew wary.

He thought that with a concubine title, everything was secure. But how could that be? Becoming a concubine meant she could now eat and live in the Shen house, but also meant there was now one more person who could end her hope—his wife.

He had lowered his standards and married a girl from a small backwater town, for her sake. She was touched, of course. But that didn’t mean she was safe.

Shen Lang couldn’t possibly understand the depth of her fear.

She refused immediately.

Shen Ti paused, then said, “You don’t need to worry. Actually, this was the Young Madam’s idea.”

That moment, a chill ran down her spine.

Her mother had been right: men truly understood nothing.

Men read the classics, studied governance and politics. Women, in their inner quarters, learned a completely different set of rules. Men had no idea what mothers taught their daughters—if they taught them at all. Often, a daughter simply learned by watching her mother every day.

Feng Luoyi glanced at Zhaoxiang.

She hadn’t paid much attention to Zhaoxiang before, when she had better maids. Zhaoxiang’s joy now bordered on smugness.

No wonder she’d remained a third-ranked maid, never promoted—not even to second-rank.

“Mm, the Young Madam is quite good,” Feng Luoyi said. “Don’t speak carelessly. She’s the Madam’s niece.”

Zhaoxiang hurriedly shut her mouth. “Yes, of course.”

Later in the morning, as the sun warmed the ground, maids from Jingrong Courtyard brought over a chest. “The Hanlin said to place this with the concubine.”

Zhaoxiang asked, “What is it?”

“Clothes, shoes, socks, all sorted. We’ll do a check together so you know how to serve the Hanlin properly.”

Zhaoxiang was thrilled, eagerly going over the inventory with them.

The garments covered everything—he could practically live here now.

As the maids left, they added, “Hanlin says he’ll stay here tonight.”

Zhaoxiang was overjoyed. “Didn’t I tell you not to worry yesterday?”

She continued, “We should prepare gifts for the maids here too. Otherwise the Jingrong girls will call us stingy.”

Feng Luoyi responded with a faint “Oh,” and said, “Go ahead and prepare it.”

As a concubine, she now received a monthly allowance of five taels—same as when she was a young lady in her family home.

But back then, she never had to worry about such things. Her mother had trained her maids well; they handled everything thoughtfully.

Now she had to deal with money matters herself.

So mundane. So vulgar.

She sat in thought for a moment, then asked, “I had a zither, didn’t I? Where was it stored? Go find it for me.”

Zhaoxiang clapped her hands. “Right! When Hanlin arrives, you can play for him!”

Thinking Feng Luoyi had finally seen the light, she happily turned to go search.

Feng Luoyi’s lips moved slightly, but she said nothing.

Some of Shen Ti’s garments were left with Feng Luoyi, and Yin Zhi noticed—but she wasn’t concerned.

Shen Ti had already told her not to worry.

Taking advantage of the cool morning, Yin Zhi finally transplanted the twenty-some potted flowers she had painstakingly brought from Huaixi into the garden soil.

She filled the area Madam Shen had reserved especially for her.

Lüyan had returned after seeing off Pingmo beyond the carved gate. Watching Yin Zhi direct Kui'er and Pu'er in loosening soil and planting, she smiled. “People used to ask why Madam never planted anything herself. She always said the Young Madam loves flowers and would enjoy doing it herself when she arrives.”

Yin Zhi laughed. “Auntie really does care for me.”

Lüyan and the others agreed.

They all knew why the Shen family had fetched a bride from Huaixi. Before Yin Zhi arrived, they weren’t sure what kind of person this future young mistress would be.

Was she the type to marry up humbly and endure mistreatment, or one who, emboldened by being the madam’s niece, would act arrogantly?

Nor could they guess the Shen family’s or Shen Ti’s true attitude toward this second-generation Yin woman.

But after a few days with Yin Zhi, their worries disappeared.

Madam Shen, Nanny Qin, and Nanny Wang all clearly treated the Young Madam as one of their own.

More importantly, the Hanlin’s attitude.

The maids were all young. And since the old madam had died early, there had never been much drama between wives and mothers-in-law in the Shen household. To them, the most important person for a young madam was her husband.

Lüyan and Hexin had whispered before—if the lady they served wasn’t treated well, the maids would suffer too. Servants were quick to flatter the powerful and trample the weak.

But to their relief, even though Shen Ti had married down for Feng Luoyi, he showed no distance from his new wife. On the contrary, they were close and at ease with each other—often spending time alone, forming a quiet but unbreakable bond.

In front of Shen Ti, Yin Zhi was completely relaxed, and he seemed to cherish her all the more. Though married, he still called her “Sister.”

Even before she managed the household, Shen Ti had already handed over control of the maids in their courtyard to her—commanding respect.

Following a mistress like that made the maids feel secure. They only needed to do their jobs well.

Even now, when Shen Ti said he’d stay with Feng Luoyi, no one panicked.

She had already been officially taken in—after so much struggle to protect that status. It wouldn’t make sense for him to ignore her completely.

As long as he didn’t visit her too frequently and neglect his wife, he’d still be considered a good man.

Sure enough, that night, Shen Ti didn’t come by. Yin Zhi dined alone.

As the Shen family’s young mistress, her standard of living was several levels above what she’d known as a minor concubine’s daughter.

The ingredients were fresh, dishes abundant, thoughtfully paired.

After two bites of each dish, she was full. The rest was shared with the maids.

No one minded eating food her chopsticks had touched.

If you tried sending the leftovers back to the kitchen, they would protest. “Why let those kitchen rats get the good stuff?”

That’s how things were even in the Yin household. The Shen family was no different.

Yin Zhi followed local customs.

Respect the times—or get crushed by them.

She had the entire bed to herself.

After days of dealing with various adjustments, she hadn’t stretched properly in a while.

With Shen Ti absent, Yin Zhi practiced yoga on the bed.

Ending in a seamless transition from meditation into sleep.

At dusk, Shen Ti returned home, greeted his parents, then went back to his own quarters.

He paused at the fork in the path.

Feng Luoyi lived in a wing courtyard to the east.

He glanced toward Jingrong Courtyard. The sky was dark; he could see nothing.

But he wasn’t worried. Whether he was there or not, he believed his cousin would take good care of herself.

She had a tenacious vitality—completely different from Feng Luoyi.

Women in this world came in many forms, each unique.

He turned left and headed east.

At the wing courtyard, Zhaoxiang welcomed him warmly and led him inside.

As a maid lifted the curtain, Shen Ti stepped into the room—and immediately felt the difference.

At Jingrong Courtyard, he and Yin Zhi shared the main room.

It was just a space.

A space filled with both their presences, interwoven but distinct, each with clear boundaries.

But here, though he had only stayed one night, the room was saturated with his scent—filling every corner.

Feng Luoyi rushed into his arms.

He embraced her—so slender, so delicate. She was completely wrapped in his presence.

Yes, this space belonged entirely to him.

Feng Luoyi belonged to him.

Here, marriage felt real.

They walked hand in hand to the inner room.

“Did I hear music earlier?” Shen Ti asked.

Feng Luoyi blushed. “I haven’t played in a long time—I'm out of practice.”

Shen Ti looked over and saw the zither laid out, with books beside it.

There was finally a sense of a woman’s private space. Compared to her old, remote courtyard, this place had life.

He’d only visited the old place a few times and hardly ever stepped inside—but it always felt like a prison.

Stifling.

“Where did this zither come from?” Shen Ti plucked a few strings and frowned. “It’s no good.”

Feng Luoyi replied, “It’s just for casual playing. Doesn’t matter.”

She agreed—the instrument wasn’t great.

“Where’s it from?” he asked.

She answered, “It was brought in when Madam and Sir first settled me in the household. Part of the basic provisions.”

That explained the quality.

Back then, she’d been in prison awaiting official sale. The Shen family had paid to bring her back.

It was meant as a temporary arrangement. Madam Shen had told the steward to prepare basic necessities—nothing fancy. She wasn’t a guest, just a stranded woman needing shelter.

The little courtyard lacked nothing, even had a zither. But everything was plain and common.

Shortly after, Shen Ti had rushed back from his studies.

He had to face the critical issue of Feng Luoyi’s future. Defying his parents, preparing for the imperial exams—every matter was major.

Her quality of life wasn’t high, but her needs were met.

Back then, he was sixteen. Or nearly sixteen, depending on how one counted.

At that age, he faced challenges far beyond anything he’d ever encountered before. He trusted his mother wouldn’t mistreat Feng Luoyi. And every time he asked if she needed anything, she said she had everything.

So her life was just… that.

To someone who had lost everything, just having shelter and food was already more than enough.

But now, things were different. She had a name, a place, a future.

She was Shen Ti’s concubine.

She’d been moved to a better courtyard—still not as grand as Yin Zhi’s, but far better than the old one.

Her monthly stipend now matched that of a proper concubine.

Basically, she’d regained the standard of living she once had.

Only the old zither, carried here from the past, still bore traces of her former destitution.

After helping Shen Ti wash up, they adjusted the zither together.

Feng Luoyi played for him.

She was rusty—but it didn’t matter. Shen Ti embraced her from behind, gently correcting her hand placement.

Their hands overlapped, touching the strings—until they simply held each other’s fingers.

Unable to resist, Shen Ti kissed her cheek, then her lips.

Feng Luoyi melted into his arms.

They had only shared a night together—but just as Yin Zhi had predicted, now that the barrier had been broken, he craved more.

A young man, full of vigor, finally had an outlet.

Of course his body ached for her.

When the curtains settled and their sweat-soaked bodies lay entwined, Shen Ti gently bit her delicate shoulder.

“I have a fine zither named Spring’s Birth. I’ll give it to you,” he said.

All named instruments had stories and significance. Mention its name, and people would recognize it.

Feng Luoyi had heard of Spring’s Birth.

She murmured back, whispering sweet nothings beneath the covers.