Chapter 37: Reaction

Being pressured into marriage is a spell that almost no woman has been able to escape from, from ancient times to the present.

Xu Chengyue had witnessed such grand spectacles before. She had a distant aunt who, every time she returned home for the Chinese New Year, would be hounded by relatives of all sorts—aunts, uncles, and neighborhood gossips alike—to go on blind dates.

Almost everyone was obsessing over her marital status, acting as if they would never have peace of mind until the day she tied the knot.

Even after she went back to work, she was not spared. Phone calls introducing potential suitors would ring through her parents' phones every other day.

The prospective matches were usually locals in her hometown, while her aunt lived in another province.

To this day, Xu Chengyue could not fathom how two people living in completely different provinces, separated by several regions, were supposed to live together after getting married.

Perhaps they simply did not care about such details; as long as their objective was achieved, they were happy.

Fortunately, because her relationship with her family was not particularly close—she ignored calls whenever possible, left WeChat messages unread, and merely sent living expenses on time each month—she largely avoided this kind of trouble.

I digress. In any case, even if she had never eaten pork, she had seen a pig run.

She had rich experience in observing scenes of marriage pressure and knew that under such circumstances, one must never argue back. The moment you refuted them, the other party would weave thirty or fifty new arguments based on your words, desperate to convince you.

They would not be satisfied until they had spoken for a couple of hours. Maintaining silence was the best choice. Once the other party finished saying everything they wanted to say, seeing that the person being lectured showed no reaction, they would lose interest and stop talking. In the end, they would drop a parting shot—"Think it over carefully, everyone is only saying this out to you because they care"—and briskly walk away.

Yet why should she? Why should she have to sit there and endure spiritual pollution without even being allowed to fight back?

"...Although the status of a merchant family is a bit low, you only realize the benefits of wealth when you close your own doors and live your lives. We common folk are not like those dukes and high officials, nor do we care much about status..." Aunt Zhou was still chattering endlessly.

Xu Chengyue pondered over an excuse for rejection. Should she claim that she had no interest in men—defeating feudalism with feudalism—or should she pretend she was wealthy, meaning that not only now, but even at forty or fifty, she could keep seventeen or eighteen male courtesans and had absolutely no need for a superfluous husband?

Both of those excuses, however, would inflict a thousand losses on the enemy while self-destructing eight hundred. Within two days, her reputation would spread across every street and alley, and she would probably be stared at wherever she went. There was truly no need for that.

"...Lady Xu, wouldn't you say so?" Amidst her monologue, Aunt Zhou turned her head to seek Xu Chengyue's agreement.

Xu Chengyue neither nodded nor shook her head. She pulled out a silk handkerchief, wiped the corners of her eyes, and began to put her innate talent into play.

"Lady Zhou, it's not that I am heartless and wish to disappoint your kind intentions; it is truly that I have an unspeakable hidden hardship." Her voice trembled slightly, and her eyes welled with tears.

"W-What?" The sudden twist disrupted Aunt Zhou's composure.

"I didn't mean to hide what Lady Zhou asked me earlier, but that faithless wretch... just mentioning him makes me—wuwu—" She buried her face in the handkerchief clutched in both hands and burst into sorrowful tears.

Aunt Zhou acutely sensed that a major event lay behind this. Having felt fatigued from speaking so much earlier, she instantly perged up, her curiosity thoroughly piqued.

"Good girl, poor thing, quick—stop crying now. What on earth happened? I will uphold justice for you. After all, since we're neighbors, how can I stand by and leave you to fend for yourself?" Aunt Zhou stroked Xu Chengyue's shoulder to comfort her.

Xu Chengyue, still covering her face, squeezed out a few symbolic tears and slowly raised her head, looking as though she had finally found something to lean on. "Really?"

"Of course! In these parts for ten miles around, who doesn't know me!" Aunt Zhou patted her chest in assurance.

Acting as though she believed her words, Xu Chengyue smiled bitterly and confessed, "Lady Zhou must have guessed it already. I am actually not the daughter of an ordinary household; my family does possess some wealth."

She had guessed right indeed. Aunt Zhou felt immensely proud of her own accurate deduction.

***

"That was a long time ago. No, not that long ago, just over a year has passed, yet when I think of it, it feels like a dream of a bygone era. Back then, I basked in my parents' affection, carefree day in and day out, and the most vexing thing for me was merely being confined to the house by my mother when I grew up, forbidden from stepping out as I pleased." Her gaze grew distant, as if reminiscing about the past.

Following her narrative, Aunt Zhou traveled back in time alongside her.

"On the Shangsi Festival, I was finally permitted by my mother to go out on a spring excursion and play by the river. I hadn't been happy for long before I saw a tattered, blood-stained man lying among the thorn bushes beneath the trees by the riverbank. I should have stayed far away." A trace of regret lingered in Xu Chengyue's tone.

Aunt Zhou nodded. To say nothing of someone who looked so dangerous, even an ordinary man warranted keeping a safe distance.

"It was just that his temples were sharp as knife-cuts, his brows like ink-paintings, as though Pan An himself had been reborn. Even in such a bedraggled state, lying pale and frail among the grass, it could not conceal his striking demeanor in the slightest. I was entranced for a moment, and only when I had people carry him onto a carriage and bring him back to the estate did I realize what I had done."

Who doesn't like a handsome young gentleman? Such a decision was understandable, yet was this the faithless wretch? It didn't sound quite right, thought Aunt Zhou, deep in thought.

"My parents were furious as well. Seeing that he was out of the ordinary, they ordered doctors to come and treat him, while strictly forbidding me from visiting him again."

"If that were all, it would be one thing. Later, I heard that he had actually lost his memory, remembering nothing of his past except for his own name. How could I endure it? I frequently sneaked past the servants to visit him in secret, and after doing so too many times, he discovered me."

Aunt Zhou drew in a sharp breath. What? Amnesia? What kind of illness was that? She had never heard of it.

"He was very clever and instantly saw through my identity, thanking me for saving him and vowing to repay the debt of saving his life in the future."

"I often kept in touch with him in secret and sent him medicinal herbs for his injuries. Through much coming and going, romantic feelings naturally blossomed between us. He treated me well too; knowing I was bored, he would often procure novel trinkets from outside the estate to amuse me. Later, he resolved to ask my father for my hand in marriage. How could my father ever be willing to marry me off to a man of such unclear origins? He rebuked him with stern and harsh words."

Ah, star-crossed lovers. Although it defied propriety, it was understandable—who hasn't experienced the longing of youth?

Aunt Zhou was completely immersed in the story.

"Yet he refused to give up. After enlisting in the army, he climbed the ranks rapidly, and only then did he earn a sliver of favor from my father, who finally agreed to let me marry him."

"My wish was finally fulfilled, and I joyfully married him. Married life was indeed as blissful as I had imagined. He was extremely attentive to me; whenever I was thirsty or hungry, he was the first to care. Knowing I disliked staying at home, he frequently took me out to play, and apart from me, he never spared another woman a second glance. I thought that not even divine immortals could rival such a match."

How wonderful that was. So what happened later to cause their split? Aunt Zhou wondered, utterly unable to guess what came next.

"My father's judgment had not been wrong either. He possessed formidable martial arts skills and won the appreciation of his superiors. Later, he was promoted to General of Returning Virtue, attaining a rank even higher than my father's. Yet he did not let success go to his head and remained as respectful to my parents as ever."

*Gasp*, General of Returning Virtue! This young man's capabilities were truly extraordinary, and what was rare was that despite his power, he had not forgotten his roots. Aunt Zhou praised him inwardly.

"It happened that I became pregnant at this very time, and I was overjoyed, eager to share the news with him. Unexpectedly, however, a woman came looking for me, telling me she had seen her husband enter my gates and had come to search for him."

What? Her husband? What was the meaning of this? Could this faithless wretch have married two wives at the same time? No, he had suffered amnesia earlier—could it be that—? Aunt Zhou's mouth dropped open in shock at her own absurd guess.

"I thought she had mistaken the place and told her to search elsewhere. Yet the name she uttered matched his precisely, and she even knew about the mole on the sole of his foot."

Aunt Zhou was stunned by this rapid succession of twists and stopped drinking the tea she held in her hand.

"Plunged into an icy abyss, I stumbled all the way, riding a horse at full gallop to the military camp outside the city to demand an answer from him. Yet he fell uncharacteristically silent."

Newly pregnant, only to hear such devastating news, and even riding a horse—that child was probably lost. Aunt Zhou wore an expression of deep sympathy.

"I wept in a breakdown. He pulled me into his arms to comfort me, but I shoved him away. After a long silence, he recounted his past piece by piece. As it turned out, that woman was indeed his previous wife. Having lost his memory and forgotten those ties, he had married me; it was only when the woman came looking for him a few days ago that he found out."

Ah, the cruelty of fate! All three people inside the story were innocent. Yet the most pitiable one was Lady Xu; an untainted young lady from a noble household—had this misfortune not occurred, she ought to have had a well-matched husband. What was this current state where her standing was illegitimate?

***

"How could I possibly believe it? How could a person not know whether they were married or not? After marrying him, I was crystal clear about all such matters; he could not fool me."

Exactly, that's just nonsense! Having figured out the joint, Aunt Zhou muttered in agreement; she was a woman of experience herself.

"I asked him what came next. What were we to do from then on? He said that because his first wife had served his parents at home when he was injured and in trouble, he could not divorce her. I asked, 'Then what about me?' He fell silent once more." Xu Chengyue clutched her chest when mentioning the first wife, as if suffering a piercing heartbreak.

Listening to the other lady mentioned earlier, she also sounded like a good person; it was simply a pity that fate played tricks on them. Aunt Zhou sighed once more.

"I gave a cold laugh and said, 'Then let us seek a divorce.'"

Quite right, they should divorce! That was the true style of the women of our Great Tang!

"He refused as well. After returning to the estate, I packed my things, wanting to return to my maternal home, but he pleaded bitterly with me not to go. I refused to listen and turned to leave, only to find the courtyard surrounded layer upon layer by his soldiers, so tightly guarded not even a sparrow could fly out."

Could he really do such a thing?! Imprisoned? Preposterous! Marriage between a man and a woman is supposed to be mutual affection; after causing such a mess, he still had the gall to forcefully keep someone.

Aunt Zhou slammed the table in anger, startling everyone present.

She sheepishly withdrew her hand, though upon second thought, setting all else aside, he was quite the devoted lover too.

"We had a huge quarrel and parted on bad terms. From then on, I stayed in my room all day without eating or drinking, refusing to listen to anyone's persuasion. He came back frequently, but instead of speaking, he would sit in silence for half a day."

"With such a massive incident happening, I hadn't returned home for a long time. How could my parents not know? When my mother came to visit me, he did not dare refuse her entry."

"Taking advantage of this opportunity, my mother had me swap clothes with her maid, and I managed to sneak out. Realizing that staying at home would eventually lead to him tracking me down, I left a letter for my parents and fled alone to Luoyang City."

Lady Xu was truly bold! Then again, anyone capable of making the decisive choice to divorce must be a young woman of courage and resourcefulness.

"That is how things came to be, and also why I dare not go out frequently to meet people—for fear of being tracked down by the agents he sent," Xu Chengyue concluded her tale.

In truth, it had been fabricated in haste, and some details could not withstand close scrutiny. Yet relying on an abundance of sensational elements, it was still enough to fool someone.

"Poor girl, it turns out I misjudged you all along. I thought you were simply cold and aloof, unwilling to mingle with us common folk, never imagining there was such a reason behind it."

In Aunt Zhou's eyes, Xu Chengyue's willingness to confide this story meant she had opened her heart to her. With her naturally familiar disposition, she picked up the teapot on the table, filled Xu Chengyue's cup to the brim, and handed it to her.

Xu Chengyue accepted the cup and took a few sips to moisten her throat. "What are you saying, Lady Zhou? Whose ancestors didn't start out as common folk?"

"I just never expected that faithless wretch to be a general. As an ordinary woman, I'm afraid I won't be of any help to you," Aunt Zhou sighed.

"I didn't expect Lady Zhou to help either; it's just that these matters had been pent up in my heart for too long, and running into someone made me unable to resist pouring my heart out. Thank you, Lady Zhou, for being willing to listen to me ramble through these trivial matters." Xu Chengyue's addiction to acting and storytelling had both been immensely satisfied, and of course, she had her listener to thank.

Especially since Aunt Zhou's facial expressions were so rich, allowing her to experience the thrill of a live reaction video.

Xu Chengyue felt a tiny speck of guilt. Spouting nonsense to deceive others was simply—too exhilarating!