Chapter 67 – Parting, Belonging, and New Beginnings

The uncles from the Yin family, who had come to the capital to attend the wedding, were finally departing for Huaixi on the twentieth day of the fourth month.

That morning, Feng Luoyi came to pay her respects to Yin Zhi as previously arranged with Shen Ti, only to find the room empty. She was then told that Shen Ti and Yin Zhi had gone together to see the Yin family off.

“Oh, so they’ve left already?” Feng Luoyi remarked.

“Yes, they set out today,” replied Hexin.

The maids in Jingrong Courtyard all knew that Shen Ti had married Yin Zhi for Feng Luoyi’s sake. Although Shen Ti and Yin Zhi now appeared to get along well, the servants understood that there was no need to offend Concubine Feng. Courtesy was enough.

Feng Luoyi nodded. “Then let the Hanlin and Elder Sister know that I came by.”

“Of course, Madam.”

Feng Luoyi turned and left.

Though the Yin family of Huaixi was distant and of little prestige, Feng Luoyi still envied Yin Zhi for having a natal family—parents and brothers.

After consummating her marriage, her status was finally solidified—she belonged to Shen Ti, and to the Shen family. Both she and Shen Ti had written letters and entrusted them to messengers bound for the place of exile.

Her father and brothers were still suffering there, and she didn’t even know if they were still alive. The letters would pass through many hands and who knew in which month or year they might finally arrive. Or if a reply would ever come.

Her elder sister had died early last autumn.

Originally, the Shen family had bought her to send to her sister and brother-in-law. But her brother-in-law had turned cold and heartless, leaving her sister "ill" and bedridden. That was how she ended up staying with the Shen family, and everything else followed.

After that, her sister had remained “ill,” with no further word. Until last autumn, when someone—knowing Feng Luoyi was in the Shen household—passed on the message that her sister had died.

Had she really died of illness? Feng Luoyi dared not think further.

But even if she hadn’t… what could she do? All she could offer was a few more tears.

She had endured so much. And she would go on enduring.

The three brothers of the Yin family came to the Shen residence early to bid farewell to their aunt and uncle. Shen Daren even took a half-day leave from work to see them off.

Madam Shen cried a good deal. The nephews comforted her, and only when it seemed they might miss their departure time did she finally wipe her tears.

Yin Zhi and Shen Ti accompanied them all the way to the dock.

The two older cousins exchanged farewells with Shen Ti.

Yin Wangcheng, her own brother, gave Yin Zhi some final words: “Take good care of yourself.”

“I will,” Yin Zhi replied.

This sister of his was honest to the point of naïveté. He couldn’t help but worry. But with her husband present, he could say little. He gave a quiet cough, leaned close, and whispered, “Don’t be too straightforward. Your husband’s family isn’t the same as ours. And don’t be too open with Aunt either—she’s your mother-in-law now.”

At least he was acting like a real older brother.

Because of the separation between men and women, Yin Zhi had never been close with her brothers—closer with her sisters, really. But today, thinking this might be the last time they ever met, she grew unexpectedly sentimental. The young man before her might, in the future, become a pot-bellied elder like Third Uncle.

“Brother,” Yin Zhi said solemnly, “please send my regards to Grandfather, Grandmother, Father, and Mother.”

She added, “The Yin family raised me for many years. I am very grateful.”

Yin Wangcheng replied, “What nonsense. Of course we’d raise you—we’re your family.”

Yin Zhi smiled, touched.

She had long thought about how to free herself from the Yin family’s control over her marriage. Now that she finally had, there was an unexpected pang of loss.

“I hope the elders live long and in health, that my brothers all have bright futures… and that my sisters… find good marriages.”

For girls, there was little else.

The Yin family brothers set sail and disappeared into the distance.

Yin Zhi stood watching for a long time.

Shen Ti said quietly beside her, “Let’s go home.”

Yin Zhi exhaled a long breath and murmured, “Where is home, really?”

Not the big city. Not the countryside. Not the future, not the past.

The more one thought, the more lost one felt—no matter how many lives one lived.

Then, her dangling hand was gently taken.

The hand was large—he was taller now—and warm.

Yin Zhi looked down at their joined hands, then up at the young man who had dared take hers.

Shen Ti wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was fixed on the river, stretching toward the sky.

“I can’t speak for others,” he said. “But yours… is the Shen family.”

“Come, let’s go home.”

He gave her hand a light tug.

She had only let down her guard for a moment, and already he’d taken her hand.

It was the boldest move he had made since they’d known each other.

She tried to pull back, but he gripped tighter instead.

He turned to face her. “The Yin family raised you well. I will too.”

His voice was clear and sincere.

The riverside wind blew gently. Everywhere was filled with parting.

His eyes were still unclouded by the world—so clean. He gave a promise, believing wholeheartedly that he could keep it.

Such was the confidence of youth.

Yin Zhi’s heart softened. She gave a small smile and no longer resisted.

Shen Ti held her hand as they walked back.

At the carriage, he held her arm to help her inside.

Just before stepping in, Yin Zhi turned and looked at him.

Hands clasped behind his back, he said, “Let’s go home.”

Yin Zhi smiled faintly. “Mm.”

Back home, they first went to Madam Shen to report: “They set off smoothly.”

In ancient times, even officials couldn’t act as they pleased. Especially capital officials—they were strictly supervised. Shen Daren had only taken a half-day and had already gone back to the office.

Only Madam Shen remained at home. Upon hearing her nephews had left, she teared up again. “Who knows when we’ll meet again?”

In the past, it would be Shen Ti who offered comfort.

Now Yin Zhi sat by Madam Shen, gently holding her arm and speaking softly in Huaixi dialect.

Shen Ti couldn’t quite make out their words, only saw Madam Shen dab at her eyes, nod, and finally smile through her tears.

He watched Yin Zhi watching Madam Shen, and didn’t go over.

After all, a wife’s three core duties were to honor her mother-in-law, serve her husband, and raise children. Today was the last day of their marriage leave. From tomorrow on, it would be just the two of them at home.

This was a good start.

Indeed, marrying within the extended family had its advantages.

After settling Madam Shen, the couple returned to Jingrong Courtyard.

A maid reported, “Concubine Feng came to pay her respects.”

“I forgot to inform her,” Yin Zhi said.

Following Shen Ti’s instructions, Feng Luoyi only needed to come every five days. If it had been a daily ritual, Yin Zhi wouldn’t have forgotten. But the longer gap made it easy to overlook.

Shen Ti said, “It’s fine.”

Clearly, he was pleased that Feng Luoyi was following the schedule.

He wasn’t one to maintain pretenses in front of Yin Zhi, so she could observe all his small emotional shifts.

He had expectations for everyone around him. Different for wives, concubines—each with their own standards.

That was fine. As long as she understood the expectations, and met them.

Inside, the room felt different.

Entering the inner chamber, Hexin greeted them: “The bed curtains have been changed. Would Young Madam like to see?”

They both looked over. The overly festive wedding canopy had been replaced with a red-orange curtain featuring five bats. No wonder the atmosphere felt different—some of the celebratory decorations had been removed. Jingrong Courtyard had transitioned from “wedding suite” to “everyday home.”

Yin Zhi nodded. “It’s nice.”

Feeling an urgent need, she went to the washroom.

Shen Ti changed into casual robes and wandered around the room with his hands behind his back.

All the ceremonial decorations were gone. Daily life had resumed.

Even the tablecloth on the central round table had been swapped out.

He ran his fingers lightly across the cloth, then sat down on the chaise lounge, looking around.

He suddenly couldn’t remember what the wedding suite had even looked like before. The rituals and formalities were still clear in his mind—but not the atmosphere, the emotions.

It had all felt like a performance.

He only remembered lifting her veil and thinking: she looked better without all that powder.

Suddenly, the light dimmed—Yin Zhi had come out and stood before him.

She asked, “What are you daydreaming about?”

“Nothing,” he replied, rising. “Any plans for the rest of the day?”

“I’ll be meeting with my retainers soon,” Yin Zhi said. “The young one—I’ll have him formally greet you. Then you can rest. You’re back to work tomorrow, right?”

They went to the side room. Yin Zhi stepped out first, Shen Ti lingered for a moment, taking one last look at the inner room.

If only he’d taken the wedding more seriously back then…

He didn’t know why a vague melancholy had crept in.

He pulled himself together and followed her out.

Later, they were having tea and chatting about the time it would take to reach Huaixi when a maid reported, “Zhao Baojin and Wang Baogui have arrived.”

“Let them wait in the side room,” Yin Zhi said, setting down her fruit and rinsing her mouth.

To Shen Ti, she said, “You go ahead and rest.”

Zhao Baojin and Wang Baogui were adult male servants. It was their first time seeing Yin Zhi since arriving in the capital. They bowed and greeted her: “Young Madam.”

Yin Zhi told a maid, “Bring chairs.”

When stools were brought, the men hesitated. “We dare not.”

“Please sit,” she insisted.

Wang Baogui cautiously perched on the edge of a stool. Zhao Baojin remained standing.

Though both were from her dowry staff, Wang Baogui had been assigned to manage her lands and properties—a steward with some status. Zhao Baojin, once a gatekeeper, still had no set duties and behaved appropriately.

Yin Zhi asked Wang Baogui, “Have you settled in?”

“All good,” he replied. “We have a roof and food. Just waiting for you to assign us tasks—we wouldn’t want to idle and eat for nothing.”

She had already discussed this with Shen Ti—Wang Baogui would manage her dowry assets. Shen Ti had arranged for his salary to be paid by the Shen household at the rate for a third-class steward.

Although they came with her, they now served the Shen family—just like her maids.

Only Zhao Baojin remained without an assignment.

“Where’s Yunjun?” Yin Zhi asked.

“At home with the child,” Zhao replied.

“Tell her to focus on the baby. She won’t be assigned anything for now—just raise the child well.”

“Yes, Madam,” Zhao Baojin smiled.

Yin Zhi asked what they’d been doing these days.

“Attended a few meals with the Shen household,” Wang Baogui said. “Had drinks twice.”

“With whom?”

“Some stewards. Baojin with gatekeepers and carriage staff.”

He added, “We also took the children to inspect our fields, houses, and shops.”

“What’s the situation?”

“The fields are good—leased out. After we disembarked, Eldest Master personally took me to settle the paperwork. I took Baojin and the kids to identify the plots too. Wouldn’t want us not to know where our own lands are.”

Yin Zhi’s eyes lit up.

Wang Baogui had truly been handpicked by Grandfather Yin—no trickery there.

Private wealth. Private staff.

Truly, marriage had its advantages. Back at home, she could never have had such capable male servants.

She asked about the shops and properties.

“The house on Huai Tree Street is vacant but well-maintained. The shop on Factory Street still has a tenant. We’ve introduced ourselves. The Chang’an Gate shop is empty—it’s less popular. The Shen steward is still helping us look for tenants. What we need your decision on is the house—keep it or rent it out?”

“How much did it cost to purchase?”

“Thirteen hundred strings of cash.”

That equated to thirteen hundred taels of silver.

Expensive. In Huaixi, a large house cost just two or three hundred taels.

No wonder Grandmother had complained. While her sisters brought similar dowries, Yin Zhi’s were worth several times more.

“Indeed,” Wang Baogui said. “In the capital, land is gold. Many people rent out surplus properties—it’s enough to feed a family. Locals love buying land and building homes.”

“How much rent could we charge?”

“We asked around—twelve taels a month.”

Twelve taels a month in rent. A steady income.

This thrilled Yin Zhi more than a gold bracelet. Gold might be valuable—but it didn’t generate wealth. Real estate did.

She and Wang Baogui calculated: two shops and one house in the capital, totaling 3–4,000 taels in value—not counting farmland.

Huai Tree Street’s house: 12 taels/month.
Factory Street shop: smaller, 17 taels/month (next payment in 1.5 months).
Chang’an Gate shop: larger, 10 taels/month (vacant).

Even without land income, her capital properties alone could bring in—
To be continued...