Chapter 9: The General of the Inner Quarters
This meal was eaten in heavy silence. The whole family sat together, each harboring their own thoughts.
But when she thought about it, it wasn't much different from before she had stepped into the bridal sedan. Her father still placed her favorite dishes before her, her mother still picked green leafy vegetables for her and wouldn't let her be picky.
Song Hemei's gaze swept across their faces one by one, unable to tell whether the change had begun after she mounted the bridal sedan, or if she had never truly understood the fundamentals or known her place from the very start.
Her parents doted on her, yes, but to them, the roots of the Song family were only her elder brother and her younger brother. Their love for her was more like raising her value, a premature affection for the future son-in-law whose name they had yet to learn.
Song Hemei ate without tasting a thing. After a few bites, she set down her chopsticks and rose to return to her room, but her mother stopped her.
"Mei'er, mother will take you out for a while to clear your head."
Song Hemei glanced sidelong at her. "With my status now, mother isn't afraid of attracting gossip?"
She shot another look at her father. "Not letting me stay home and wait for Shao Wen'ang?"
Father Song lifted his eyes to her, slurped a mouthful of congee, and said nothing. It was Mother Song who lightly slapped her hand. "Child, why are you speaking in such a sarcastic tone?"
She dabbed at her lips with a handkerchief. "Mother knows you well. Are you really the type to wait at home submissively?"
Mother Song stood, shot Father Song a meaningful glance, then took Song Hemei's hand. "Let's go. Mother had someone prepare a very pretty veiled hat for you."
Song Hemei bit her lip. So this was still about her awkward, uncomfortable identity.
She lowered her eyes. Dragged along by her mother out of the room, she lacked the energy to resist. She only said indifferently, "Mother, I fear I'm not in the mood to go out."
Mother Song squeezed her hand, her tone turning earnest and weighty. "You'll understand once we get there."
Hearing this, Song Hemei couldn't help but study her mother again. The only thing she was certain of was that her mother wouldn't try to shove her back into the Shao family.
Docilely, she put on the veiled hat and followed her mother out of the residence and into the carriage.
The driver cracked his whip. The horse obediently galloped eastward, passed through the eastern alley, and headed straight out of the city.
Most of the properties east of the city were farmsteads. The Song family also owned estates and farmland out there. If her father hadn't mentioned that Shao Wen'ang would come to see her in the afternoon, she would have thought her mother was sending her to the estate to temper her temperament.
The carriage drove on until it stopped before a farmhouse. Mother Song didn't seem inclined to get out. She simply lifted the curtain and looked outside, her gaze sweeping around before settling on a direction. "Mei'er, look at that person."
Song Hemei leaned closer to her mother and followed her gaze. What came into view was a woman dressed in coarse linen.
She appeared to be hanging something out to dry. The work wasn't heavy; her movements were gentle and slow, her figure delicate and slender. When she turned her head slightly, a fair face was revealed. Though she was a bit older, her plain clothes and thorn hairpins couldn't hide her beauty—far from the look of an ordinary farm wife.
Song Hemei pressed her lips together, guessing that her mother might have found some cautionary tale for her.
But in the next instant, as if sensing something, the woman looked toward the carriage. Caught off guard, their eyes met. The woman showed a momentary panic, as if she instinctively wanted to hide, but in the end, she straightened her dress and walked slowly toward the carriage.
Song Hemei was taken aback. Unsure how to respond, she instinctively looked at her mother. But Mother Song's expression was as calm as ever, with no intention of avoiding the encounter.
It was only a few steps. When the woman reached them, she looked a little flustered and gave a slight bow to Song Hemei and her mother. "This concubine did not know Madam would visit today. I have been remiss."
Mother Song said nothing. In the silence that followed, Song Hemei could clearly see the expressions flitting across the woman's face.
Caution. Helplessness. Guardedness. Fear.
Finally, it all melted into a fawning smile as she awaited Mother Song's judgment.
Having apparently savored the woman's discomfort enough, Mother Song finally spoke slowly, "Ah, it's nothing. I happened to be passing by, so I thought I'd look in on you."
That simple "happened to be passing by" tangled the woman's heart into a mess. She seemed about to say something flattering, but Mother Song showed no courtesy—she directly lowered the carriage curtain, cutting off her words.
Song Hemei thought this was too rude, and she called out softly in disapproval, "Mother."
But she caught a gleam of condescending smugness on her mother's face. "Mei'er, do you know who that woman is?"
Song Hemei's heart stirred, and her eyelashes trembled involuntarily.
Mother Song didn't intend to keep her guessing. "That's your father's kept woman outside."
Those words were like a thunderclap exploding within her mind.
In her memory, though her father had visited pleasure quarters while traveling on business, he had never brought anyone into the family home.
She had always believed her parents were deeply in love, a marital bond that others envied.
Her father, who had always been patient and gentle with her mother, kept an external concubine?
She felt her hands and feet growing cold. It was as if, from the moment she stepped into the bridal sedan, the fig leaf that had always covered her was suddenly ripped away, revealing all the ugly filth underneath. Not only did it mock her past foolishness, but it also tried to drag her into the mire.
Mother Song said, "Men under heaven are all the same. It's not unusual for them to have two or three women by their side. When I first married into the Song family, your father had concubines and bed-servants. I used some tricks to send them away. Only this external woman was different."
She took Song Hemei's hand and sighed. "Even the queen of a hundred flowers cannot rival the bright moon in one's heart. Your father always had feelings for her, but unfortunately she was married. Still, I suppose fate had its way with them. Her first husband died early and entrusted her to your father's care. Who knew what 'care' would lead to such a tangled mess?"
"When I found out about this, you were still in my belly. Your father insisted on bringing her into the household. I refused absolutely and invoked your elder brother's name, so he kept her outside instead. But as time goes on, what affection can withstand prolonged separation? Look at that—your father has long since forgotten all about her."
Mother Song raised an eyebrow, like an undefeated general fresh from victory, explaining military strategy to the soldier she had trained by her own hand, wanting to pass on her mantle.
"In the end, a bed-servant is nothing. Once you're in the household, you can easily get rid of her with some simple methods. Only the principal wife is the foundation of the inner court. No one can surpass you. The more generous and proper you seem, the more your husband will feel you are the wronged party. A woman must learn how to make herself pitied."
Song Hemei's entire body went rigid. Those words made her feel sick.
Mother Song still held her hand, chattering on endlessly. "Life is long. Even if you don't marry Shao Wen'ang, if you marry someone else, isn't it all the same? Which cat doesn't steal fish? A temperament too sharp won't win a husband's favor. What you must learn now is how to deal with all those twittering beauties, how to guard your inner court like an iron fortress. Only then will your life be secure."
Song Hemei bit her lip hard and pulled her hand free from her mother's coaxing words.
"Mother, if marrying anyone means this, then I'd rather stay at home my whole life."
"Child, what nonsense are you talking?" Mother Song lightly slapped her.
"From where I stand, Shao Wen'ang is pretty good. He has you in his heart, even if he's a bit muddled in the head—messing around and producing a child. It's not entirely a bad thing that you're making a fuss now. You need to make him know he wronged you. But that child is already five months in the womb. If it were aborted, it would create karmic sin. You might have to swallow your disgust and accept it. But don't worry—in the future, Mother will teach you how to deal with these things step by step."
Song Hemei felt a chill run down her spine.
Her mother was gentle and kind. In famine years, she would personally give out gruel to the needy, kneeling before the Buddha and weeping for all living beings.
Yet when discussing the inner court, she sounded like a treacherous minister manipulating hearts and playing political games. "Deal with" the concubines and bed-servants—she said it as casually as throwing away vegetable scraps in the kitchen.
Song Hemei's heart trembled. At this moment, the inner court seemed to her like a demonic hell, warping people out of human shape.
She bit her lip and turned her head away, leaning against the carriage wall without a word.
Mother Song sighed and shook her head, raising her finger to poke her forehead. "You're still stuck in a dead end."
The carriage jolted into motion again, this time heading back to the Song residence.
Song Hemei stared blankly at a single point before her. Mother rambled on about many other things, but she didn't hear a word. When they finally arrived at the Song residence and she was just stepping down from the carriage, she heard that sickening voice: "Mei'er, you're finally back."
Song Hemei, frowning, was about to descend when Shao Wen'ang stepped right up and extended a hand to help her down.
"Good Mei'er, good wife, don't be angry with me. Your husband has come today to take you home."
The temper Song Hemei had barely managed to suppress suddenly surged. She flung away his hand. "Whose wife am I?!"
Lifting her skirts, she stepped down from the carriage. Her disgust for Shao Wen'ang, combined with the resentment and unwillingness toward her mother's words, transformed into a harsh tone as she berated him: "Our ceremony was only half-complete. The betrothal card hasn't even been properly exchanged. Whose wife am I supposed to be? And on what authority do you call yourself my husband?"
She had never spoken to Shao Wen'ang so harshly. A flash of shock crossed his handsome face.
Hearing this, Mother Song hurried down from the carriage to mediate. But Song Hemei was unwilling to stay and watch Shao Wen'ang's hypocritical acting. She strode quickly toward the inner court.
She walked through the covered corridors, her expression fierce and her pace aggressive. Shao Wen'ang called out to her from behind, and the more he called, the faster she walked, leaving him far behind.
Just as she reached the round moon gate, she saw a tall, slender figure strolling past.
It was Yu Yeqing.
A flicker of light passed through Song Hemei's eyes. Shao Wen'ang, backed by the entire Song household, would catch up to her soon enough. She made a quick decision and stepped directly in front of Yu Yeqing. "Sir is indeed not one to break his word."
Yu Yeqing, who had been about to slip away, halted and looked toward Song Hemei.
The veiled hat was still on her head. Behind the green silk veil were a high nose and red lips, but her beautiful almond eyes held a dangerous smile.
"Come with me to my courtyard, Young Master Yu."
"If we don't leave now, my troublesome 'husband' will be catching up soon."
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