“Wife, shouldn’t you help your husband change first?” The voice behind her was puzzled, yet soft and low, with a husky, seductive edge.
It truly made Wen Qingwan dazed for a moment—when that voice sounded, she nearly nodded in agreement by instinct.
“Hah! You lost—and you still expect me to wait on you? Get out of here. The farther, the better.” Wen Qingwan turned, her voice tinged with fury.
Xiao Jin saw her nostrils flare slightly, revealing the dissatisfaction and irritation in her heart.
Her icy eyes were a sign—her anger was nearing the point of being uncontrollable.
Xiao Jin didn’t know where the little girl’s anger came from.
Back in the barracks, he’d heard generals say their wives always woke before dawn to help them get dressed.
At the time, he’d made up his mind: if he ever married that girl, he wouldn’t let her wake before dawn.
By the time the sky was fully bright, he finally joked with her—who knew she’d suddenly get angry? She must be disgusted by his lame leg.
The thought brought a quiet sorrow to his gaze—so deep it was hard to put into words. The look of loss on his face was nearly suffocating.
Jinlan and Jinque couldn’t help but feel sympathy, yet they naturally sided with their young mistress.
Jinque feigned ignorance and went to bring breakfast. Leng Feng informed her that the young lord had ordered for the Miss to eat before paying her respects.
Jinlan lowered her head and also pretended not to see.
Wen Qingwan turned toward the vanity as soon as she finished shouting, missing the look on Xiao Jin’s face.
In her past life, she was married to the Crown Prince for ten years. Though she was never summoned to his bed, in the first three years, he often called her to serve when he favored other beauties.
He’d summon her to pour tea and fetch water. As a side consort, she was expected to dress the Crown Prince—and the women he took to bed.
So the moment she heard a man call for her to help him dress, she instinctively flared with anger. Wen Qingwan admitted she was taking it out on him.
It was precisely because she refused to live a life of compromise that she agreed—just as Wen Mingzhu had hoped—to her father’s arrangement to marry into the declining marquis’s household.
Given he was an heir of a declining household, she had every reason to hold her head high.
Seeing that her mistress ignored the heir, Jinlan brought in a few maids carrying robes and accessories, and began attending to her—washing her face, rinsing, dressing, and grooming.
There were no maids around Xiao Jin. His own girl looked down on him, so he handled his dressing and washing alone.
After finishing up, he leaned on his cane, intending to leave first. But unable to set his mind at ease, he silently walked toward Wen Qingwan and reached out to take her hand.
Wen Qingwan lifted her gaze and swept her eyes over Xiao Jin’s figure. Her brows furrowed slightly. She shook off his hand and walked away.
Xiao Jin clenched his jaw and trailed after her, step for step, telling himself—his wife deserved indulgence.
The two of them didn’t speak during breakfast. After finishing, they went together to the front hall to offer tea.
As Wen Qingwan reached the doorway, Xiao Jin said, “Wife, walk slowly, watch your step.” His voice was so gentle it could drip water.
Startled, everyone in the hall looked up toward the doorway, where a stunningly beautiful woman stepped inside.
Her skin was fair as polished jade, her brows delicate as silkworm strands, and the hint of red on her lips sparkled like a jewel.
The crowd, who had waited a long time and were full of complaints, saw Wen Qingwan and instantly all their grievances vanished like smoke.
The heir, who had always kept his distance from women and was full of hostility, looked at his wife with eyes so soft they could stretch like silk. No wonder they got up so late.
The old madam of the Xiao family had been seated in the grand armchair. Seeing her eldest grandson shed his former despondency, she was so shocked she suddenly stood up.
“Jin’er, you’re up? It’s still early—you two could sleep a bit longer.” The old madam of the Xiao family spoke with excitement.
“Greetings to Grandmother.” Xiao Jin and Wen Qingwan greeted the old madam in unison.
Wen Qingwan saw the old madam unusually enthusiastic, her face full of smiles, even the wrinkles smoothed out. Based on her experience, the old lady must have an agenda.
Just now, as she walked along, she felt that this Marquis of Cheng'en’s residence was quite large—very suitable for her retirement.
If nothing unexpected happened, this would be the place she’d spend the rest of her life. So she bought a mind-reading talisman.
First, test the old madam’s character. To know yourself and your enemy is the key to winning a hundred battles.
While offering tea, Wen Qingwan read the old madam’s inner drama. Her husband had never come to terms with being demoted in rank.
Before reaching forty, he died in sorrow. Even in death, he couldn’t rest in peace—gripping her hand and saying he had no face to meet his ancestors, and hoped she would raise the next generation well.
The old marquis left her with two sons and two daughters. Her two sons were useless and squandered what little family fortune remained.
Her daughters didn’t marry well either, and had no means to support the marquis household. The estate had long been spending more than it earned, barely making ends meet.
Fortunately, both sons were good-looking, and with the Marquis title to flaunt, marrying wasn’t difficult
She used the excuse of wanting to eat vegetarian and chant scriptures, and immediately handed over the household reins to the newly married eldest daughter-in-law.
Pity that girl, only fifteen years old, who spent her days worrying herself sick over every matter in the household.
Pregnant and still burdened with overseeing the household’s every need, she wore herself thin. Not long after the child was born, she passed from this world.
The Marquis of Cheng’en had grieved, but being cold-hearted and fickle by nature, he soon found a new lover. Thus, rumors spread through the capital that he favored concubines and neglected his wife.
Over twenty years, everyone knew that the Marquis of Cheng’en had married six wives—and each one was wealthy.
Everyone outside knew that the Marquis of Cheng’en only married if the woman had money.
But outsiders didn’t know that the marquis household relied on the head madam’s dowry to support its many servants.
Those women bore children for the men they loved, used up their dowries, and died exhausted—leaving their children to struggle in the marquis household.
As the saying goes, if the top beam is crooked, the lower beams will be askew. After more than twenty years, the Marquis of Cheng’en’s household not only failed to improve but grew poorer and poorer.
Because the household was full of wastrels—and they came in both male and female.
Rumors were fierce as tigers—even the current emperor believed the Marquis of Cheng’en had deliberately killed his wife to seize her dowry.
What outsiders didn’t know was that both of the old madam’s sons lived off women.
The household servants lived off the main wives’ dowries—even the concubines had to support themselves.
Just as His Majesty was about to demote the title again, her eldest grandson achieved great merit on the frontier—barely saving the tottering marquis estate.
With the eldest grandson’s military merits as support, the eldest son married a beautiful wife three years ago. Unfortunately, her dowry is nearly spent.
Ever since Jin’er was injured and left lame a year ago, he has stayed in his courtyard all day, ignoring the outside world.
The heir had long been in a state of decay, like a heavy iron lock, tightly binding the old madam’s heart.
It made her unable to breathe freely, overwhelmed by suffocating pressure. More than once, she had thought about dying.
But she was even more ashamed to face her husband—among all her sons and grandsons, only one was worth mentioning, and he was crippled.
After hearing the old madam’s inner thoughts, Wen Qingwan realized she was only fifty-eight this year.
She looked older than her grandmother in her sixties—the old madam’s hair had turned white, and the wrinkles on her face had deepened.
The more people lack something, the more they cling to it. To appear dignified, the old madam always favored her lavish dove-topped cane.
Wen Qingwan looked again at the current Marchioness. She was said to be only twenty-one, but sitting beside the Marquis, she didn’t appear young.
She was pitiful too.
Her smile as she offered tea grew a little more sincere. “Mother, please have some tea.”
🐇♡🐇♡🐇♡🐇
Old Madam (squinting at the scroll): This says we’ve spent eighty percent of the Marchioness’s dowry on… a cane?
Steward: It’s imported, madam. Its the Dove Cane, your favorite cane.
Old Madam (Nodding): Well, it is more noble than half the family.
Marchioness: I thought my dowry went to silk cushions.
Steward: That is ten percent of your dowry.
The old madam sighs and leans heavily on her ornate dove-headed cane.
Old Madam: Its still a good cane.
Marquis: But what will we have for meals?
Marchioness: Maybe the remaining ten percent can make up for it?
Old Madam: I can always knock you out with my cane if you get too hungry. Its noble and has many purpose.
Marchioness: This stress and malnutrition makes me look old. Do I look twenty-one?
Both sighed as a servant enters with tea, trips over the cane, and spills it onto the scroll. The ink smears into a shape resembling a dove.
Old Madam (staring): It’s a sign.
Marchioness: Of what?
Old Madam: That we need a new dowry.
Wen Qingwan (Just entered and heard the last part): Wrong room. Sorry.
Quickly leaving as if her soles are on fire.
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