Chapter Four: Stepmother

Housekeeper Xing was dragged up the small building by Wang Peng, looking as miserable as if he were in mourning. Zhen Qian sat slanted in a grand manner against the armrest, his eyes cold and menacing as he stared at the housekeeper before him, suddenly barking, “Kneel!”

“Kneel!”

Housekeeper Xing had always relied on the backing of the Xing clan, overseeing the management and the purchasing power of the back courtyard. Previously, he had exercised caution to avoid conflicts with Zhen Qian, and generally, the two sides kept to themselves. But ever since Zhen Qian’s bout of amnesia, Housekeeper Xing had extended his influence from the back courtyard to the front, enjoying more prestige than before—even daring to cut back on Zhen Qian’s daily needs.

Previously, the front courtyard was under the jurisdiction of Wang Qun, the chief steward, who managed all external affairs for the Zhen family’s second branch. Wang Qun, too, had been one of Zhen Qian’s biological mother’s retainers. Housekeeper Xing’s actions amounted to a complete break with Zhen Qian.

Although Housekeeper Xing was a servant of the Zhen family, he had always leaned on the sway of the Xing clan. He never needed to kneel when meeting Zhen Qian. But now that relations had soured, Zhen Qian had no intention of showing him any leniency.

“Are you joking, Young Master?” Housekeeper Xing asked.

Was Zhen Qian joking? His gaze shifted to Wang Peng behind Housekeeper Xing. “Uncle Wang, this servant knows nothing of the proper rules. Shouldn’t he be taught what it means to respect superiors and inferiors?”

Wang Peng snorted coldly and raised his foot, kicking Housekeeper Xing directly in the calf. Housekeeper Xing winced in pain, his legs buckling as he fell to his knees with a grimace, attempting to stand, only to be pinned firmly to the ground by Wang Peng’s strong, iron-like hands.

Housekeeper Xing gritted his teeth, his eyes fixed on Zhen Qian with murderous intent, as if he could devour him alive. If looks could kill, Zhen Qian would have died countless times already, yet he seemed wholly unconcerned by the housekeeper’s furious glare. “Let me ask you: why have you been cutting back on the supplies for my courtyard?”

A cold smile curled at Housekeeper Xing’s lips as he lifted his chin to reply. “Young Master was ill, and a patient needs light food to recover. This was the explicit instruction of the mistress and the physician. How could I, a humble servant, disobey?”

“Oh! So you’re entirely blameless, then. Let me ask you further: if that’s the case, why is it that not only I but everyone in my courtyard has had their supplies reduced? Are they ill as well?”

Unfazed by Zhen Qian’s questioning, Housekeeper Xing remained composed. “Since Young Master was sick, if others ate rich or spicy foods in the courtyard, their aromas would affect your recovery. Naturally, it was best to avoid them altogether. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“What a clever tongue you have. By your logic, since the Young Master is ill, everyone in the Zhen residence should eat light food. Yet just yesterday, I saw you drinking wine and eating meat in the manor. How do you explain that?” Wang Peng interjected angrily.

Housekeeper Xing curled his lips, still defiant. “You are the Young Master’s servants and retainers. The others are not, so they need not eat as you do. If you have any objections, you may bring them to the mistress. This is not for me to decide.”

“Well said…” These past days, Zhen Qian had come to understand much of the rules within the Zhen residence, and felt more confident. “From now on, all supplies for this courtyard will be separated from those of the back courtyard. Go tell the mistress that my health has largely recovered, and I require plenty of nourishing foods to replenish the losses of the past weeks. I am sure she’ll have no objection. Now leave!”

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Housekeeper Xing’s expression changed. Separate meals meant dividing the household—a prospect he had never expected Zhen Qian to raise. All daily expenses for the second branch of the Zhen family had always been under his control. Though Zhen Qian’s share was not the largest, its nature was particularly sensitive, especially since it was now the legitimate eldest son making the request. He dared not answer Zhen Qian directly.

“This matter must be reported to the mistress. I take my leave.”

Wang Peng’s face was grim, unsure what game Zhen Qian was playing. He glanced at Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei, both equally bewildered. “Isn’t Young Master acting a bit too rashly?”

Xiao Mei, anxious that Zhen Qian might have relapsed, pleaded, “Master…!”

Zhen Qian waved his hand. “You don’t understand. This incident has taught me a valuable lesson: relying on others is never a long-term solution. You are my closest people. Since my amnesia, I have seen clearly who treats me well. The road ahead is ours to travel, and this is only the first step. There’s a long journey ahead. Are you willing to walk it with me?”

Wang Peng chuckled, “My brothers and I, though living in the Zhen manor, have always been your retainers. We’ll go wherever you go. There’s nothing more to say.”

Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei were different. Wang Peng and his men shared the surname Wang and were Zhen Qian’s retainers, accompanying his mother when she married into the Zhen family. Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei, however, carried the surname Zhen, making them family members. Even if Zhen Qian split from the family, it would be difficult to take them with him.

“Rest assured! If I ever leave the Zhen family, I’ll take you both with me.”

“Really?” Xiao Zhu smiled with delight, eager to follow Zhen Qian, but her expression soon dimmed. “Master, I’m afraid you’ll need Second Master’s consent. If it comes to a rupture, it could be bad for you.”

Zhen Qian gently flicked Xiao Zhu’s delicate nose. “Such minor worries—I know what I’m doing. Now tidy up; I suspect Mistress Xing will soon be here. You wouldn’t want her to see the room in disarray, would you?”

Mistress Xing’s presence was daunting for Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei. Hearing she might visit, they hurried to straighten up, not wanting her to see the room messy.

“Uncle Wang, go inform Steward Wang that if anyone objects, say I need to recuperate in peace. Ordinary meals won’t aid my recovery, so for now, my meals will be separate. Except for Housekeeper Xing, others won’t dare say much.” Seeing Wang Peng preparing to leave, Zhen Qian suddenly added, “Uncle Wang, from today onward, no one but those in this courtyard may enter without my permission.”

Though Wang Peng didn’t understand the reason for such a strange request, he agreed.

Zhen Qian’s guess was correct. Barely two quarters of an hour had passed when a noblewoman, supported by Housekeeper Xing, ascended the small building. Her face, warmed by a spring-like smile, appeared at the doorway, and her commanding voice drifted in, “I heard Zhen’er has recovered; as your mother, I’ve come to see you!”

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Lying on the bed, Zhen Qian’s vision blurred as a woman appeared before him, dressed in a vibrant peony-green gauze, a trailing pink narcissus skirt with scattered floral patterns and green leaves, draped in gold-threaded smoke-green silk. Her hair was pinned with pearl and jade ornaments. She was not particularly beautiful, with a pointed chin, thin lips, and sharp eyes that roamed over him like a detective, her smile plastered with false warmth. “Why are you still in bed, Zhen’er? If you’ve recovered, you should get up and move about to regain your strength more quickly!”

“Your son greets you, Mother.”

By remaining in bed, Zhen Qian need not salute Mistress Xing. “Illness strikes swiftly, but recovery is slow as silk unwinding. I’ve lain here nearly a month, and my body feels weak, my limbs and channels unregulated for too long. If I rise abruptly, I’ll be fatigued and unable to sustain it. I must first increase my diet to recuperate gradually, and then begin light exercise.”

Though Mistress Xing was born into a noble household, she was hardly versed in medicine, certainly not as much as Zhen Qian, who played the role of a mystic. She could only nod. “Since you’re recovering, I am relieved. As for meals, don’t trouble yourself. I’ll have Housekeeper Xing arrange everything.”

“You’d probably wish I were dead already,” thought Zhen Qian.

As the legitimate eldest son of the second branch, Mistress Xing would have preferred that Zhen Qian had been trampled to death when he fell from his horse. When she heard he had lost his memory, she thought fate had finally favored her, but to her chagrin, Zhen Qian recovered after a month. She hurried over, eager to see if Housekeeper Xing had misjudged the situation.

“Thank you for your concern, Mother. Just now, Housekeeper Xing said that an ill person’s meals must differ from others’—better not to dine together. Housekeeper Xing, those were your words. I think they make perfect sense!”

Mistress Xing shot a vicious glare at Housekeeper Xing, who stammered in panic, “Mistress, I didn’t mean that!”

Zhen Qian seized the moment. “Then what did you mean? For a month you’ve provided light meals—was that not for my health? Fine. Mother is here today; clarify your words. If you can’t explain, tomorrow I’ll visit the Zhen family village and ask the clan elder to judge.”

Since Housekeeper Xing had invoked the authority of the Xing clan, Zhen Qian wasn’t shy about bringing up the clan elder. The blame lay with Housekeeper Xing, and once the matter spread, Mistress Xing would also be implicated.

Mistress Xing’s eyes flashed with anger. She had not expected Zhen Qian to make an issue of this, leaving her in a difficult position. If she refused Zhen Qian’s request, the situation would be hard to resolve.

Looking at Zhen Qian’s smiling face, Mistress Xing’s teeth ached with fury, but she could only relent. “Since you wish to eat as you please, if it helps your recovery, I have no reason to object. However, you know the household’s expenses are tight. If you are too extravagant, it would be improper. You will be allocated the same allowance as before; I hope you use it wisely and refrain from any improper conduct.”

Though a portion of the daily expenses was separated out, Zhen Qian knew it would only decrease, never increase. With Mistress Xing’s character, she would surely assign someone to watch his every move, never missing any opportunity to retaliate.