"Bang…"
The door was pushed open. Chuntao burst in like a whirlwind, gasping as she laughed, "Miss, the General has returned. He's at Old Madam's Fulai Courtyard right now."
Shen Ruoxi, who had been intently embroidering, trembled at these words—the embroidery needle pricked her finger, and a bead of blood welled up, making her hiss softly in pain.
She absentmindedly set down the embroidery, brought her injured finger to her mouth, curling her lips into a faint smile; yet tears welled faintly in her eyes as she murmured, "It's been two years…"
Chuntao was delighted for her Miss as well: the young master's returned, their hardships were finally over!
She changed into fresh clothes and, most unusually, stuck two bright pearl hairpins into her hair. In a soft voice, she said, "Let's go!"
She knew clearly she ought to be proper and reserved, yet her steps still hurried involuntarily.
On their wedding night, war had erupted at the border city. He'd donned armor and seen her just briefly in the bridal room, told her to wait for his return, then hurried off to the battlefield—and somehow, two years had passed.
That year, her father and brother died in battle; her mother, afflicted with grief, wished her to marry Xiao Chengyi. She fulfilled her mother's wish, and soon after, her mother too followed them in death.
For these two years, she had seldom gone out. She vaguely remembered him—handsome, high-spirited. In the bridal chamber, he'd called her "wife" in a gentle voice.
Her steps quickened again, unconsciously. She did not notice the servants passing through the courtyard, or the flickers of pity and unease in their eyes.
She stood outside the room, her heart pounding so hard it seemed to leap from her chest. Collecting herself, she was about to push open the door.
"Mother, this matter cannot be refused! Zhen'er must enter the household. Since ancient times, three wives and four concubines for men have been perfectly ordinary."
"At the very least, this should be properly discussed with Ruoxi!" Her mother-in-law, Mrs. Zhou's voice carried a trace of helplessness.
Though it was only March, standing outside, she suddenly felt plunged into an icy cellar, chilled to the bone.
"Miss? This—"
Chuntao's shocked voice made the people inside the room instantly fall silent.
The door curtain lifted. Nanny Yu, always by Old Madam's side, emerged, her face full of awkward smiles. "Young Madam, you're here; congratulations, the Young General has returned! Old Madam was just speaking of you!"
The cold mockery crept unconsciously onto Shen Ruoxi's lips. Her husband brought another woman home, and she was the last to know.
"Thank you, Nanny," she replied lightly.
"Young Madam, please." Nanny Yu stepped aside to let her in.
Shen Ruoxi lifted her skirt and entered, taking in everyone at a glance.
Old Madam sat at the center, with her mother-in-law, Mrs. Zhou, beside her.
Xiao Chengyi, still in military attire, sat below with a delicate young woman.
This young woman was exceptionally pretty—her eyes lively and sly, a pale yellow floor-length dress accentuating her fair and translucent face—a true beauty.
Clustered around them were his two younger brothers and a younger sister.
The family seemed to be enjoying harmonious warmth, as though she alone stood out, not fitting in.
She bowed deeply. "Grandmother. Mother."
With her entrance and greeting, the room's atmosphere turned tense, an odd and indescribable quiet spreading.
Old Madam seemed slightly awkward and urged, "Ruoxi, quickly greet Chengyi."
"General."
She bowed again, momentarily dazed upon seeing the man before her.
Two years of war had transformed the high-spirited youth into a sharp, reserved, mature man.
"No need for such formalities, Madam," Xiao Chengyi replied coldly, unable to stop his gaze from lingering on her.
After two years apart, she had grown even more radiant. Her skin was delicate as water; above all, those jet-black eyes—so bright, as if ten thousand stars swirled within—one careless glance, and a person could get lost in them.
A tangle of complicated, indescribable feelings welled in Xiao Chengyi's heart.
"Brother Yi."
The sweet, soft voice of a girl snapped Xiao Chengyi back to himself.
He turned to see Zhen'er clutching his sleeve boldly, asking, "Is she Shen Ruoxi?"
After speaking, her sharp gaze swept over Shen Ruoxi. Noting that devastatingly beautiful face, her hand clenched slightly.
Mrs. Zhou was obviously displeased at her bluntly calling Shen Ruoxi by name!
What an ill-mannered, coarse wench!
"General, this lady is—?" Shen Ruoxi intentionally directed the question at Xiao Chengyi.
Her gaze swept over the other woman's slightly rounded belly; her nails dug into her palm, a wave of nausea rising in her heart.
"She is Zhen'er, the wife I married at the frontier. This victory at Chengyang Pass was all thanks to her."
Evidently dissatisfied with such a simple introduction, Zhen'er smiled and proclaimed, "My name is Ning Zhen, skilled in many arts. The success at Chengyang Pass was all due to me—not only did I design new crossbows myself, I also used diversion tactics to retake Chengyang Pass. This is simply beyond the abilities of you back-courtyard women."
Finishing, she deliberately threw a challenging glance at Shen Ruoxi.
So what if she was pretty? Girls who were raised in the boudoir—unable to carry or lift, all day scheming for favor in the rear court—how utterly contemptible.
Her eyes gleamed with smug pride; she wore an arrogant expression.
She, Ning Zhen, was destined to be different from all these other women.
She waited for everyone's admiration and praise, hoping for more than the previous coldness toward her. But the room was silent—no one responded! Leaving her awkward and ill at ease.
"Wife?"
Shen Ruoxi tasted these two words slowly. Then what did that make her, Shen Ruoxi?!
Her icy gaze swept over Xiao Chengyi, her lips twisting into a mocking smile, her tone detached: "So what you mean, General, is that the main wife is now demoted to concubine?"
Xiao Chengyi stared at that unnaturally calm face—impossible to read, polite yet distant, as if addressing a mere acquaintance.
Some inexplicable anger welled in his eyes; he glared at her intensely.
"Child, what nonsense are you saying? When has the main wife ever become a concubine?" The Old Madam, sensing the tension, hurried to smooth things over.
Shen Ruoxi turned to the Old Madam, her gaze limpid and innocent. "Then may I ask Grandmother, how do you intend to arrange for Miss Ning Zhen?"
Rare embarrassment flickered across Old Madam's face. "Three wives and four concubines is only normal for a man. Zhen'er, after all, is already with child—she should be elevated to Honora…"
She hadn't finished saying 'concubine' before Xiao Chengyi interrupted her sharply, "Grandmother, as I've said: wives of equal rank, no difference between them. Ruoxi has no offspring, and Zhen'er is pregnant—no one will dare gossip."
Once more, the atmosphere plummeted to freezing point.
No offspring?
He left for the frontier on their wedding night—if she had a child now, it would be a ghost's doing!
A husband with two wives? She could ignore others' idle talk, but with this humiliation, how could she ever face her parents, her uncles and brothers' spirits in the afterlife?
Shen Ruoxi's jet-black eyes fixed unblinkingly on Xiao Chengyi, as if she could see through him.
Xiao Chengyi, who had faced death countless times on the battlefield, cutting off enemy heads as easily as chopping vegetables—his murderous aura always leaving others breathless—was, in this moment, utterly defeated by the gaze of a woman in the inner chambers, left disheveled and unable to meet her eyes.
The nameless fire inside him flared higher still.
"I am a fourth-rank general. I do as I see fit. This matter is settled," he declared angrily, mortified and enraged.