He would never marry into the Wu family.
He’d seen too many men who were fickle, ungrateful, and scattered their affection freely. Even his uncle—learned, upright, and proper—had exchanged secret letters with a female confidante outside the home. From that, Shurui learned that men who remained devoted, whose love didn’t fade amid the dullness of daily life, existed mostly in cheap operas.
He didn’t expect to one day find a truly good partner—but he would never knowingly jump into a pit of fire with someone who clearly wasn’t.
His aunt wanted to use his uncle’s kindness as leverage. If he were truly weak and indecisive, he might have agreed just to repay that debt.
But he didn’t believe the Bai family’s favor required him to pay with the entirety of his remaining life.
Back when his father held a minor, obscure post in Chaoshi Prefecture, he’d still managed to save up a modest sum. When Shurui was seven, both his parents passed away. His uncle brought him back to the Bai household—and the Ji family assets came with him.
In the early years, when the Bai family was struggling, his uncle’s private school had been set up using his parents’ money.
Over the years, the Bai family did shelter him, allowing him to grow safely to eighteen—but all the expenses of raising him were paid with his parents’ silver.
To put it bluntly, the Bai family had been kind to take him in, but without his parents’ money to smooth things over and fund their efforts, they likely wouldn’t be living in such spacious houses now, with several servants attending them.
Now that he was grown, the money his parents left had been thoroughly siphoned off by his aunt. There was nothing left to squeeze from that source.
To then turn and set her sights on him—wasn’t that simply greed?
Shurui stayed in his room all day, going nowhere. When night fell, he shut the doors and windows, then carefully pulled out a long box, about the thickness of his palm, from beneath the bed and opened it.
Inside lay a shop deed and several strings of well-strung copper coins—twelve strings in total.
After his parents’ savings were drained again and again by his aunt, he’d gradually grown older and wiser, seeing clearly what kind of person she was. From then on, he’d learned to keep his wits about him, quietly saving little by little for himself.
As for the shop deed—it was for a storefront in Chaoshi Prefecture, and the only item from his parents’ estate still in his possession.
His mother had placed it in his hand on her deathbed, saying it was prepared as his dowry. He’d guarded it carefully ever since, never even telling his uncle about it.
Holding the deed, Shurui felt a surge of gratitude toward his younger self. Back then, though innocent and naïve, when his aunt often pulled him aside to cry about how hard life was, he hadn’t handed this deed over.
At the time, he’d lain awake at night, tossing and turning, feeling guilty for being selfish.
But now he saw clearly—if he hadn’t harbored that small bit of selfishness back then, he truly would have no path left to walk today.
If he refused to obey his aunt’s arrangements and marry into the Wu family as a second wife, then this shop in Jizhou was, at present, his only place to go.
Shurui clenched the deed in his hand. He knew full well this was no safe or easy road. A young ge’er, leaving the Bai household to make a living on his own—how could that possibly be simple?
The few scattered copper coins he’d managed to save up wouldn’t amount to much, either.
But what if he stayed here?
Even if he went to great lengths and, by sheer luck, escaped being married off to the Wu family this time, what about the next? What kind of situation would he face then? In people’s eyes, he was nothing more than a commodity to be sold for a good price—something to be used whenever convenient.
The oil lamp in the room cast a wavering glow in Shurui’s clear eyes. His gaze suddenly hardened. Weighing the two options, he was willing—no, determined—to choose the former.
That very night, Shurui made up his mind to head for Chaoxi Prefecture and quietly began making preparations.
This wasn’t a matter of acting on a whim, packing a bundle, and rushing out the door. Chaoxi Prefecture was far away; from where he was now in Jizhou Prefecture, it was already another jurisdiction altogether.
Without careful planning, if he simply bolted with his belongings, he’d likely be caught and dragged back before he even reached the county seat.
He steadied himself—on one hand keeping things calm at the Bai household, on the other secretly laying his plans…
At the beginning of April, on a clear and pleasant day, the Wu family moved quickly and came to deliver the betrothal gifts.
Several large chests were carried into the Bai residence. There was no drumming, no gongs—quiet and understated, with no show of ceremony.
Watching from the shadows, Shurui thought it odd. Jiang-shi had always loved bustle and pomp, yet for something as festive as a wedding, she was being unusually cautious. Clearly, even she felt that marrying into the Wu family wasn’t especially respectable and didn’t want outsiders gossiping.
Though this marriage was supposedly for him, with all those betrothal gifts delivered in full, he didn’t even get a single look at them. The moment the Wu family left, everything was turned straight over into his aunt’s storeroom—not even a list of the gifts was given to him to see.
With such treatment, where was there even the slightest trace of respect for him?
Shurui had no intention of marrying into the Wu family and didn’t covet their betrothal gifts in the least. Still, the way his aunt grabbed everything so shamelessly was hard to stomach.
In past years, she’d cried poverty and played the pitiful card, taking advantage of his youth and easy nature to siphon off quite a bit of his money and belongings. Now he was strapped for cash, and it was time to find a way to scrape a little back from her.
His eyes flicked about. That evening, he went to the main room.
“The weather’s warming up,” he said. “In summer, handkerchiefs and towels get used a lot. I’m still at home now and have some free time, so I was thinking of buying a few lengths of cloth and making some more.”
Standing before Jiang-shi, he kept his head slightly bowed. “…They can be added to my trunk later—useful when I go over there. I’ve also heard that linen’s gone up in price again this year…”
Jiang-shi heard it immediately—he was trying to get money out of her.
She was never generous to begin with, and instinctively shot him a sideways look.
“Those kinds of things are useless in excess,” she said coolly. “There’s no need for you to fuss over buying cloth. Everything will already be included in your dowry.”
Seeing her stance, Shurui pressed on. “I also wanted to make some for Aunt and for Elder Brother and Second Brother. Once I leave, I’ll surely miss you all, but it won’t be as easy to see one another as it is now. Since I’m free, I thought I’d do more to show my filial heart, and leave something behind for my brothers to remember me by.”
Jiang-shi wasn’t particularly moved, but under the same roof, some surface courtesy was still necessary. It wouldn’t do to outright refuse him.
She could have simply taken two bolts of cloth from the house and let him make as many handkerchiefs as he liked, but she knew perfectly well—his talk of sewing was mostly an excuse to get spending money.
She didn’t want to indulge him, but she’d just received the Wu family’s generous betrothal gifts and was in a decent mood. Thinking it over, she decided that at this sensitive moment, it wouldn’t be wise to let Shurui harbor resentment and stir up trouble.
Spending a little money to send him on his way was the lesser evil.
“It’s good of you to think of the family,” she said mildly. “Doing needlework is a proper thing for a ge’er. Once you’re married into the Wu family, you won’t lack attendants, but things you make yourself are always different.
“Since you’re still at home, prepare a bit more now. Once you’re married and become a husband, you won’t have this much free time.”
She continued blandly, “The auspicious day is approaching—three or five months will pass in the blink of an eye. Though the family has prepared everything for your dowry, there will always be a thing or two missing. If there’s anything you lack, put some thought into it yourself.”
With that, she had Nanny Li wrap up some silver.
Shurui glanced at the plain cloth bundle—about ten taels.
His eyes narrowed slightly. For his aunt to part with that much silver was rare indeed. It seemed the Wu family’s betrothal gifts really had been substantial.
But this was probably his only chance to pry money out of her. If he could get more, he should.
He accepted the silver slowly. He neither thanked her nor left, instead lifting his gaze toward Jiang-shi.
“Aunt… did the Wu family deliver the betrothal gifts today?”
At the question, Jiang-shi shot him a cold look, irritation already rising.
Suppressing the discomfort of having her money coveted, she said, “I’m keeping those things for you for now. They’ll be added to your dowry in due time.”
Holding the silver, Shurui kept his head lowered. “I was just wondering what kind of items there were. It’d be nice to have a look.”
Jiang-shi’s brows knit tightly—she was on the verge of snapping—but she held it in. “I’ll have them inventory the gifts quickly. I’ll let you see the list when it’s done.”
Shurui murmured assent, then, as if hesitant, asked, “When I was young and came to live here, Aunt said you were keeping my parents’ belongings for me, to be used when I married. I was wondering about my dowry…”
Jiang-shi’s expression darkened visibly, though only for a moment. She forced a smile. “Everything’s been arranged for you. Look at you—are you afraid I’d swallow it all?”
“I misspoke,” Shurui said quickly. “Please don’t take it to heart. I just never understood money matters before. From now on, I’ll have to learn. That’s why I asked so much.”
Jiang-shi maintained her kindly façade. “You’re thinking correctly. The Wu family has a large household; you’ll have to manage things in the future. Learning now will be useful. I’ll have the household accountant teach you how to keep accounts.”
As she spoke, she gave Nanny Li a look. Shortly after, another ten taels were wrapped up.
“Take this as well, for daily expenses. Don’t scrimp. Once the betrothal gifts and dowry are all sorted, I’ll call you to look them over.”
Shurui accepted the money, still looking somewhat reluctant, and offered a muted thanks. Lowering his head, the corner of his mouth curled up slightly as he finally left the room.
“Madam already gave Young Master Rui ten taels—why add another ten?” Nanny Li asked in surprise.
By Jiang-shi’s usual standards, she was only this generous with her eldest son. Even the second son rarely received so much.
Jiang-shi was seething inside. “Didn’t you see that look he gave when I handed over the first ten taels? First the betrothal gifts, then the dowry—he’s just after money. If I don’t give him some, who knows how he’ll pester me!”
Nanny Li fell silent.
She knew Jiang-shi well enough to guess that the Wu family’s betrothal gifts would all be kept for herself, and that Shurui’s dowry would likely be pitiful. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have needed to hand over silver now just to placate him.
Jiang-shi snapped, “That ge’er has a sharp mind. Thinks he’s climbed a high branch, and now he looks at me like I’m dirt.”
Nanny Li thought to herself that anyone would want to see their own betrothal gifts—having everything taken outright would sour even the best temper. But she didn’t dare say that aloud and merely replied, “Madam has already been generous to give Young Master Rui spending money.”
Jiang-shi was about to respond when—
“Big Brother’s studies cost a fortune, and when I asked Mother to make me two sets of fine spring clothes for outings, I only got one. Yet now you’re handing silver to someone who’s not even family.”
A ge’er slightly older than Shurui lifted the curtain and came out from the inner room.
Seeing him, Jiang-shi chided gently, “You’re never the one to be shortchanged. Is one new outfit really worth grumbling over for days?”
The Bai family’s second ge’er sat down beside her, lips pursed in clear displeasure.
“I’ll give you a few strings of cash and have another made,” Jiang-shi said.
But he still refused to let it go. “You gave him a full twenty taels, but you cut mine short. With so many betrothal gifts from the Wu family, why give him silver at all?”
“Those gifts entered the Bai household—they’re no longer his,” Jiang-shi said sharply. “He’s lived here all these years, eaten and used plenty, and still has the nerve to think about the betrothal gifts. Betrothal gifts have always been an offering from the groom’s family to the bride’s elders.”
“When your brother marries and when you marry, there’ll be massive expenses. Luckily, the Wu family sent over chests upon chests of good things. Pick out a couple to pass off as his dowry, and the rest will cover quite a bit. Otherwise, I wouldn’t know how to manage your affairs at all.”
The second ge’er snorted. “Who cares to use his betrothal gifts.”
His words lacked conviction. In truth, he couldn’t help coveting the items his mother herself had praised. His resentment was less about the gifts than about seeing Shurui do well.
“Such childish talk,” Jiang-shi said, soothing him with a few words until he finally left, mollified.
Once he was gone, Jiang-shi dropped her kindly expression and instructed Nanny Li, “Keep an eye on Rui. He looks honest, but he’s sharp. Don’t let him stir up trouble before the wedding.”
Nanny Li acknowledged her orders.
Back in his own room, Shurui held the silver close to his chest, his eyes shining.
He’d known that his aunt’s delight over the Wu family’s generous gifts, mixed with her annoyance at his probing, would still net him something. Even from an iron rooster, he’d managed to scrape a bit of grease.
In the past, he had always held back, wary of offending her in any way while living under her roof. But now, he no longer feared rousing her displeasure openly.
After that day, Shurui, having secured some money from Jiang-shi, went out shopping. Every few days, he would make a trip to the town. At first, someone from the household would follow him under some pretense. They noticed he wasn’t going to leather or clothing shops for leisure, nor merely browsing cosmetics, and reported everything back to Jiang-shi.
The Bai family’s second ge’er, hearing of Shurui’s constant shopping, felt displeased and went to poke around his room.
He found that the powders and ointments Shurui brought back were all old stock; they did nothing for the complexion and, in fact, looked worse than before. Both overtly and covertly, the second brother mocked him, then felt relieved to leave him alone.
Jiang-shi, now free from idle curiosity, no longer instructed anyone to watch him closely.
During this period, Bai family’s eldest young master, taking a short break from his studies in town, stormed over to Shurui and scolded him.
“Marry into a merchant family? How could that be right? Shurui, you’re young and inexperienced, and you don’t understand how to judge people. You can’t marry just for wealth. Our family, after all, comes from a scholarly household. Even if the Wu family were merchants, that might be excusable—but the man is old and a widower. How would people speak of you if they knew this?”
Shurui listened to his cousin’s earnest speech and found it amusing.
He looked at Bai Dalao and said, “Shurui is just a young ge’er—everything depends on Aunt’s decisions. I’m young and naïve, and I only know this marriage was arranged by her. I don’t even know the Wu family’s background. Since cousin says they aren’t a good match, why not ask Aunt on my behalf?”
Bai Dalao fell silent for a moment, then said, “Just don’t agree for the sake of wealth. Those who seem flashy on the outside may be rotten within. Think carefully. I’m looking out for you. You’ve studied under your father, learned poetry—you should know right from wrong.”
With that, he threw back his sleeves and left.
Shurui didn’t bother to argue. Clearly, he was the main beneficiary of this marriage, yet here his cousin’s warnings sounded merely like self-righteous platitudes—and they made him feel queasy. This was how outsiders saw the young, refined, scholarly Bai heir: proper, decorous, and easily misjudged.
He smirked inwardly, waiting to see the chaos unfold when his family realized he might reject the marriage.
Shurui paid no mind to the comments. Once Yang-shi stopped watching him so closely, he quietly sought a reliable coachman, purchased the Fu Zhi (local gazetteer) of Chaoxi Prefecture to read at night, and converted his silver and copper into more portable bills.
He also inquired with merchant caravans passing through the town about the conditions of the official roads, patrols, and other travel matters, rising early and returning late each day.
The household noticed him bringing back goods frequently. Never before had he been so diligent in shopping, and rumors quietly spread that he was marrying for wealth, taking a middle-aged widower as a husband—and yet he seemed so pleased.
Outwardly, everyone offered congratulations, urging him not to forget them once he gained a wealthy life in the Wu household.
At the end of April, Shurui returned from another trip to the county seat. He had purchased fresh, plump fish from fishermen who had just come back from the sea. Smiling, he told the household servants:
“Thank you for your congratulations. How life will go, we shall see. I can’t promise much, but I am grateful for your kindness. Today I bought a few fat fish. This afternoon I’ll make fish balls for soup, so we can all enjoy a proper meal tonight.”
The servants were delighted. Ever since Bai Laoye had been alive, meals had been hearty. But once Madame Jiang took full control, the daily fare was mostly watercress and radish soup, scraping nearly all the oil from the dishes. Moreover, everyone knew Shurui’s skill in cooking was excellent.
Overjoyed, the servants clustered around him, expressing thanks.
Jiang-shi, hearing he planned to treat the household to fish balls, scoffed, “He’s really putting on airs. Does he think the Wu family is some paradise?”
Still, though she couldn’t see what Shurui had truly done, she noticed his diligence in shopping for the house and generosity toward the servants. Seeing him quietly preparing to leave without fuss, she felt a measure of relief. She thought, once Shurui married, the household would no longer need to worry.
Yet, on this last night of April, late into the night, the moon high and stars sparse, the Bai household’s night watchman, after eating a large bowl of soft, savory fish-ball soup, slumped onto the stone bench at the gate, yawning uncontrollably. He felt unusually sleepy from having eaten his fill—but little did he know the fish-ball soup had been spiked with a soporific. Before he realized it, he had fallen asleep, leaning against the gatepost, snoring loudly.
At that moment, a pale figure, perfectly timed, slipped out of the Bai residence. He adjusted the bundle on his shoulder, tightly gripped the chest in his hand, and vanished into the night.
The evening breeze was gentle. Shurui, seated on a donkey cart he had arranged in advance, had no intention of stopping in the town. He pressed onward toward the county seat.