Chapter Forty-Two: Lady of the Waters

Liu Wenxiang stood outside Wang Chunxiao’s room, anxiously listening to the sounds within. As someone with experience, she knew nothing had happened inside. Chunxiao was simply too indulged. Such a good opportunity had gone to waste. Next time they wanted to let Su Yang and Chunxiao live together, it would be ten days later. Things couldn’t go on like this; it was bound to be the same as today. She needed to come up with a plan.

Early the next morning, as soon as dawn broke, Su Yang rolled up his bedding and slipped back into the courtyard, diving beneath the warm covers beside Xichun.

"Ah... Husband, didn’t you spend the night with the eldest young lady?" she murmured, her soft body pressing into his embrace, the faint scent of her drawing him in.

"It’s almost morning..."

"Husband..."

Because Su Yang had suggested that all the women live in just two courtyards, there was no longer any need to walk so far for meals. One simply crossed the newly opened doorway and arrived at the mother-in-law’s quarters.

"A few days ago, Madam Song sent a letter inviting us to her home today. If you’re free, son-in-law, you may join us," Liu Wenxiang said, no longer imposing her will on Su Yang as before, but leaving the decision to him.

"Alright," Su Yang nodded. After breakfast, he went back to change, while Liu Wenxiang fetched some books from her room and handed them to Wang Xiahe, saying, "Take these to your room and study them carefully. I’ll be checking you on them—don’t try to muddle through."

Blushing with embarrassment at the stack of boudoir secrets in her hands, Wang Chunxiao’s face turned crimson.

In the neighboring courtyard, Su Yang pondered where to find a literate woman. The recently purchased maidservants still needed an education. Just as in the pleasure quarters, the best girls were all skilled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting. In at most three months, these young maids would become as refined as jade, but true learning required time and immersion. Ideally, he needed a resident female instructor for the Su family.

Apart from reading, they should also learn to play the pipa and guzheng, appreciate tea, and practice painting and calligraphy. All needed to be taught by someone—only then would the household feel truly cultured. Though Liu Wenxiang and Wang Chunxiao were literate, they could hardly be expected to teach the maids themselves. Su Yang mused as he strolled through the courtyard.

Just then, Shuiniang entered, head bowed, one hand clutching her arm. There were traces of redness and swelling on her face, and her clothes were dusted in inconspicuous places, leaving her looking quite disheveled.

"What happened?" Su Yang called her over, frowning.

"It’s... nothing..." Shuiniang kept her gaze lowered, not daring to meet his eyes.

"Raise your head."

She remained motionless, head still lowered. Her once frail body had grown much healthier since arriving at the courtyard, her complexion visibly improved, and after proper nourishment, her figure had swiftly filled out.

Su Yang reached out, gently grasping her chin and lifting her face. Her loose hair half-veiled her cheeks, and her mature, alluring eyes brimmed with grievance as she gazed up at him, pitiful and tearful. Her eyes were red, a few sparkling tears falling onto his hand. On her delicate face, the faint imprint of five fingers could be seen, and her body showed signs of being beaten and kicked. Su Yang took her wrist, recalling the gynecological treatise he’d studied for diagnosing pulses and basic ailments.

With his "Qi Viewing Technique," he saw a thin thread of ill fortune above her head. Her vitality was gradually recovering, likely due to the nourishment she’d received in the compound. The injuries were superficial, posing no real threat to her health or fertility. Shuiniang’s natural endowment was of the third grade—a respectable constitution. Having recently given birth, her energy was depleted. Had she been brutally beaten and developed internal stagnation or been struck in a vital spot, she might have been left infertile. Fortunately, there was no lasting harm.

"Your husband came looking for you?" Su Yang asked. Wet nurses, unlike maidservants, did not sign lifelong contracts but rather functioned as long- or short-term workers who could leave at any time.

"Yes," Shuiniang replied, a hint of fear in her eyes.

"Do you still wish to go on living with your husband?" Su Yang asked. Shuiniang fell silent, unsure how to answer. Her heart had long since grown cold toward that home, but the old beliefs that shackled her made it impossible to simply say she wished to leave.

Separation was never so simple. Although in theory both parties had equal rights, in reality, the man was always in control. The husband had to first issue a letter of release, which the wife would take to the authorities for registration; only with mutual consent would the documents be granted, allowing her to remarry. If the woman was blameless, separation made it easier to find another match; if the husband had been absent for three years, she could remarry. Otherwise, if she was found at fault—one of the "seven grounds for divorce"—she’d be cast out, and her prospects for remarriage would be bleak.

Though mild and pliant by nature, Shuiniang was no fool. In her husband’s family, she was little more than livestock, valued chiefly for bearing children. When her newborn had died days earlier, how could she be blamed? It had clearly starved to death. With the grain stores empty and herself malnourished, how could she have produced milk? After the baby’s death, she’d been sent off at once to serve as a wet nurse in a wealthy household, her last value squeezed out. If the master hadn’t taken her in, she’d have faced only further beatings and abuse, unlikely to survive.

Before marriage, she’d had two elder brothers, and her parents loved her dearly. Now, it was as if she’d fallen into hell, and Shuiniang wanted nothing more to do with it.

"If you wish, nod your head. If not, shake it. I can help you, and you’ll never suffer abuse from your husband’s family again," Su Yang said, his voice steady and reassuring.

Her small hands clenched tightly together as she bit her lip, finally steeling herself. She shook her head and whispered, "Master, please help me. If you can free me from my husband’s family, I’m willing to serve you in any way you wish."

"If I rescue you from your misery, do you truly mean to serve me so loyally?"

"I do," she replied solemnly, kneeling before him.

At least here, she was not beaten or cursed. She could eat her fill, stay warm, and was often given nourishing treats like eggs. The master treated her kindly. Why return to a home of bare walls, a violent husband, and a spiteful mother-in-law?

"Rest assured, if you truly wish to serve me, I have grass enough to feed you—there’ll always be plenty to eat and wear," Su Yang said, helping her to her feet. "Dongsi, fetch Ma Han for me."

"Yes, master," the maid Dongsi replied, hurrying out.

The names Dongyi, Dong’er, and the like weren’t pleasant, but what need had maidservants for elegant names? Once promoted to personal maids, they’d be given new ones.

Since he was managing two households, Taohua and Meihua had been elevated to concubines, both already pregnant. In the future, any maid who became pregnant would be raised to concubine status and cared for by personal maids; otherwise, they remained mere handmaids.

"Master, might you change your clothes first?" Taohua, dainty and petite, appeared with a new outfit in hand, followed by a maid.

Barely a month pregnant, her belly had yet to show. Her youthful face, slender waist, and delicate limbs always tempted Su Yang to indulge, but he knew to restrain himself. Once this tender blossom bore him a child, she would develop a mature allure, like a peach ripening on the branch.

"Very well," Su Yang agreed, following her into the room to change. The personal maid Dongyi kept her head low, her thin face flushed red. Now that she was well-fed, her eyes sparkled with vitality, and with time, she’d surely become a beauty.

Not long after Su Yang had changed, Dongsi returned with Ma Han, whose face looked more spirited than before—advancing in rank had clearly brought some transformation.

"Master," Ma Han greeted respectfully, awaiting instructions.

"Shuiniang broke one of my jade pendants, worth a hundred taels of silver, and cannot pay. Bring her husband here and keep him locked in a side room until I return. Shuiniang need not go," Su Yang ordered.

"Understood, master," Ma Han replied, confirming the address and leaving at once.

After a short while, Liu Wenxiang called everyone to depart. Su Yang took no maids with him, following Liu Wenxiang to the Song house. The group included Liu Wenxiang, Wang Chunxiao, Wang Xiahe, and Su Yang, accompanied by three maids: Xiliu, Qingzhu, and Xixia.

With Su Yang’s eighth-rank strength, there was less fear than before when leaving the house, though caution remained prudent.

"Well, if it isn’t Scholar Su? Where are you hurrying off to?" A stranger approached—an officer, with several constables at his back, all of ninth-rank martial prowess. The man’s greedy gaze swept over Liu Wenxiang and her companions.

"Is there something you need?" Su Yang asked, his tone displeased.

"Hey, I never knew the Wang family had so many beauties. Are these all your women?" the rat-faced officer leered, his hand resting on his sword.

"Nonsense," Liu Wenxiang retorted angrily, her full figure radiating restrained wrath.

"Oho, feisty, are you? I must say, though she’s older, this lady certainly has her charms. Is she your mother-in-law, Scholar Su? Be honest, have you ever sneaked a taste?"

At his words, the constables burst out laughing, spouting filth, while Wang Xiahe and the maids clenched their teeth in fury.

"Boss, this young one’s not bad either—must be Scholar Su’s sister-in-law. Look at that figure, not yet fully grown but already tempting. Imagine when she’s ripened..."

"And that maid’s not bad—so cold on the surface, but you just know she’d be wild behind closed doors... Haha!"

"Boss, ask Scholar Su if you can borrow his mother-in-law for a night—her husband’s barely in the ground; she must be lonely..."

"What’s your name?" Su Yang asked, smiling amiably.

"I’m Officer Sun!"

Sun’s face was lecherous. "Scholar Su, I really do fancy your mother-in-law. A refined man like you must have tried her already. Why not let me enjoy her too? Good things are meant to be shared, after all."

Seeing Su Yang’s calm demeanor, Sun grew impatient. He’d come prepared today; besides himself, another ninth-rank officer lay in ambush nearby. If Su Yang lost his temper, it would be a capital offense—assaulting an officer was tantamount to rebellion. He could then lawfully kill Su Yang, and with the Song family’s help, take a generous share of the spoils.

He’d heard that just yesterday, the Wang family had spent a fortune buying four hundred dan of grain. Still, this scholar had remarkable patience.

"Don’t talk nonsense," Wang Xiahe blurted out. "My brother-in-law and mother are innocent. Don’t slander him!"

"Little sister, your brother-in-law is so handsome. Don’t you ever pine for him at night?" Sun stroked his chin, running his eyes over Wang Xiahe.

Everyone present—Liu Wenxiang, Wang Xiahe, the maids—looked furious, hoping Su Yang would quickly rid them of these pests. In the past, such men wouldn’t have dared be so brazen.

"Officer Sun, come with me a moment. I have something to tell you," Su Yang said, heading toward a nearby alley.

"Whatever it is, just say it here," Sun replied, wary.

"If you don’t come, don’t blame me if Chief Wu Song holds you responsible in a few days," Su Yang said mysteriously.

Curiosity piqued, Sun followed. The new constable chief of Yanggu County was notoriously violent, infamous for maiming his own men and torturing confessions from prisoners. The mere mention of him sent chills down the spines of the officers. Even so, with Su Yang only being ninth rank and another ninth-rank ally waiting nearby, what risk was there?

"Well, what is it?" Sun demanded impatiently.

As soon as Sun entered the alley, Su Yang struck with a lightning-fast punch, revealing his eighth-rank strength. Sun tried to fight back but Su Yang caught him by the throat. "Who’s behind you?" he demanded.

Su Yang knew an ordinary officer wouldn’t dare harass him and his family so openly; clearly, this was a provocation intended to force his hand—there must be more to it.

If he were in Sun’s place and truly lusted after someone’s mother-in-law, he’d simply sneak in at night, not brag about it in public. This was plainly a trap.

"Eighth rank?" Sun was appalled, his face draining of color, cold sweat trickling down his spine. Su Yang’s iron grip could snap his neck at any moment. Terrified, Sun spilled everything—who had sent him, who his accomplices were, how they planned to divide the spoils, how they’d provoke Su Yang...

Confessing might spare his life; silence would surely mean death. Sun was gambling on Su Yang’s mercy. He also hoped his status as an officer might be of some use. But against an eighth rank, a ninth-rank officer was as helpless as a dog.

"So, it was the Song family?" Su Yang was taken aback, a wry smile on his lips. He’d set out that day to visit the Songs, never dreaming it was all a trap laid by the Song family with two ninth-rank officers.

The Song family—what cunning!

But they could never have guessed he was no longer just ninth rank.

"No more to say—I’m off to see your partner." With that, Su Yang snapped Sun’s neck.

...

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