Forced melon

Jingchen Pavilion's business is as busy as ever.

The private room was quiet in the afternoon. The fragrant aroma of tea wafted in the warm sunlight.

Su Wan's smile was impeccable as she pushed a newly made "Jade Complexion Soap" towards the Third Madam of the Duke of Jingguo's Mansion.

"Madam, please take a look. This soap is infused with South China Sea pearl powder and Tian Shan snow lotus essence, making it the most nourishing for the skin."

The Third Madam, with a reserved air, sniffed the fragrance lightly and praised, "Manager Su, your ingenuity is remarkable; the scent is elegant too. No wonder even the ladies of the palace covet your 'Jingchen Pavilion.'" Her tone suddenly shifted, a probing smile playing on her lips, "However… Sister Su, with your beauty and talent, it's ultimately a waste to be relegated to the title of 'widow.' My cousin has just been promoted to Vice Minister of War. Although he's remarrying, his first wife passed away early, leaving only a young daughter. Marrying her would make him a proper mistress, enjoying endless wealth and leisure—isn't that a hundred times better than you, constantly in the public eye, toiling away?"

Su Wan's fingertips traced across the warm, smooth surface of the Ru kiln teacup, her smile unchanged, but her eyes held no joy.

“I am deeply grateful for your kindness, Madam. However, although my late husband is gone, my presence in Jinyun Manor and Jingchen Pavilion is a source of longing, a responsibility, and the very foundation of my livelihood. I dare not abandon it lightly. Moreover…” She lowered her eyes slightly, her voice soft yet carrying a subtle thorn, “I have heard that Your Excellency is nearing fifty? I am uncouth and probably do not understand Your Excellency’s way of ‘serving’ you, nor can I enjoy the ‘leisure’ that comes with such immense wealth.”

The third wife's smile froze, a hint of embarrassment and disdain flashing across her face.

"Manager Su is joking. The Vice Minister is in his prime, holding a high position and wielding great power—a blessing many would kill for. As the mistress of the house, managing the household affairs and running the shop with you, you are both, in essence, 'in charge.' But the difference in status is like heaven and earth. You are currently enjoying great success, but your status as a 'widow' is ultimately a thorn in your side. What's the point of guarding mountains of gold and silver when you grow old, without children or grandchildren?"

"Children..."

Su Wan felt as if she had been stabbed by a needle, but her smile became even more composed. "Madam's consideration is thorough. However, Su Wan is unfortunate and dares not hope for more. Madam, please take this Jade Complexion Soap back and try it out. If there are any shortcomings, Su Wan will make improvements. There are still several ladies waiting to see the newly arrived Nanyang Dew. Please excuse me."

She rose gracefully, her skirt swaying slightly, leaving behind a noblewoman who had met with a cold shoulder and a room filled with a chilling fragrance.

After dinner in the evening, Shen Yan lazily reclined on the soft couch in the study, which was covered with a white tiger skin, his bare feet rubbing against the warmth of the incense burner as he listened to Yang Quan's report.

"...The new production line at Jiangnan Workshop is operating smoothly. As for Manager Su, 'Jingchen Pavilion's' profits increased by another 10% last month, but..."

Yang Quan paused, then lowered his voice, “There are more and more marriage proposals coming in, the doorstep is almost worn down. Most of them are from high-ranking families seeking a second wife, the position of principal wife. For example, just now the third wife of the Duke of Jingguo proposed to Vice Minister Li of the Ministry of War, and Censor Chen of the Censorate… There was even a retired seventy-year-old Grand Secretary who wanted to take Manager Su as his concubine to help manage his vast family business, promising that if she could give birth to an heir… he would make her the principal wife.”

"Pfft—cough cough cough!"

Shen Yan had just taken a sip of tea when she heard this and choked on it, coughing until her peach blossom eyes turned red. "Seventy...seventy? A concubine? To...to help him have a son?! That old coffin-stuffer has his own dreams! Is he even capable of it?! That old bone of his is still thinking about having offspring? Isn't he afraid of hurting his back!"

Enraged, he slammed his hand on the table, making the teacups clatter. Pointing at Yang Quan, he shouted, "Tell Su Wan that if any of these old fools dare to make a move on her again, have Ling Feng bring some men over to 'greet' them! Do you think I, Chen Yan, am dead?!"

Yang Quan readily agreed.

Shen Yan breathed a sigh of relief, her eyes darting around. She looked at Ling Zhan, who was quietly reading by the window, and then glanced at Er Ya, who was chasing after the puppy Xueqiu in the yard, and Shen Chen, who was practicing diligently on the wooden stake under the eaves. A "brilliant" idea popped into her head again.

"Hey, Ling Zhan!"

He leaned closer, almost touching Ling Zhan's book pages, pointed out the window, and said with a hint of coaxing excitement, "Look! We shouldn't let the good stuff go to outsiders! Our Xiao'er and Wansu, Hong'er and Suihe, are about the same age and know each other well! Isn't that perfect? ​​It's like family members marrying each other! Just say they were betrothed when they were little, so they won't be coveted by those ugly ducklings outside. How perfect!"

Ling Zhan's fingers continued turning the pages of the book without pausing, and his eyes remained unmoved. His clear, cold voice was like shattered jade: "Marriage is a matter of fate. Forcing it will only bring no benefit."

Shen Yan deflated like a punctured balloon, muttering, "Whatever! But one's heart should be placed in the right place! That silly girl Suihe dared to follow Hong'er to Wild Buffalo Valley to suffer in the wind and sand at fifteen, and waited anxiously for years? Every letter she wrote was about Hong'er! And that brat Hong'er is so good!" He became angrier as he spoke, imitating Shen Hong's tone, and said with a stern face, "'All things are well in the valley, Father, do not worry. Your son yearns for the Great Dao, for tranquility and non-action. Worldly marriage is not my wish.' Bah! I think he's not cultivating the Dao, he's cultivating a heart of stone, devoid of affection for his family!"

"You must ask the children first," Ling Zhan insisted, his gaze still fixed on the pages of the book.

The next day, in the back garden of the Marquis of Anping's residence.

A snow-white falcon with gray wingtips shot through the thin clouds like an arrow and landed precisely on the shoulder of Xiao Shitou, who was in the pavilion with his eyes closed, sensing the birds.

The snow falcon affectionately nuzzled the boy's sideburns with its beak, making a soft cooing sound.

Shen Shi opened his eyes, a fleeting, gentle silver light flashing in them, and reached out a finger to lightly stroke the snow falcon's cool feathers.

The snow falcon obediently raised its talons.

"A letter from the Northern Frontier?" A weary voice came urgently from under the corridor.

Chen Shi removed the copper tube and poured out a small roll of waterproof paper, which he then unfolded.

He quickly glanced at it, his brows furrowing slightly, and handed the letter to Shen Yan: "Father, it's for my eldest and second brothers."

Shen Yan first looked at Shen Xiao's: "...My son has been trained in the border army, and his ambition is to defend the border and protect the people. The country is not yet stable, so how can we think about family? Do not think about marriage for now. Xiao, kowtow."

"It's the same old thing again!"

Shen Yan snorted in dissatisfaction and quickly unfolded Shen Hong's letter. The first part was still about the progress of Wild Buffalo Valley City: the city wall was more than half-built, the new irrigation canal was initially completed, and winter fodder was plentiful... Shen Yan nodded slightly as he read, until the last few lines, when his face suddenly turned gloomy and ashen.

"...All is well in the valley, Father, please do not worry. My heart is set on the Great Way, and purity is my foundation. Marriage in the mortal world brings many entanglements, which is not my wish. I humbly beg Father not to trouble yourself with my second sister Suihe's affairs any longer. Hong bows again."

"Not what I wished?! Bow again?! Fine! You, Shen Hong, are you!"

Shen Yan was so angry that the veins on his forehead bulged. The letter was crumpled into a ball in his hand, making a brittle sound as if it were about to burst under the weight. "How many years has Sui He waited for him? The sandstorms of Buffalo Valley have almost turned that girl into a desert flower! He thinks he can just wash his hands of it with a simple 'it wasn't my wish'? You bastard! You unfilial son!"

He slammed the crumpled paper to the ground, and still not satisfied, he stomped on it twice, as if he wanted to crush the name of that unfilial son into the mud.

A surge of anger, a mixture of tenderness for his daughter and a stubborn anxiety about keeping the family's wealth within the family, shot straight to the top of his head.

Shen Yan abruptly turned and rushed back to his study, unfurled a gold-embossed calligraphy scroll, grabbed a pen, and with a ruthless and resolute air, wrote with the pen tip almost piercing the scroll:

letter of appointment

Shen Hong, the second son of Shen Yan, the Earl of Anping, is eighteen years old and of good character and appearance. He is now betrothed to Sui He, the second daughter of the Ling family. The wedding will be held on an auspicious day, and they will be united in marriage forever.

Betrothal Signatories: Marquis Anping, Shen Yan; Head of the Ling Family, Ling Zhan

"Yang Quan!"

Shen Yan's voice was hoarse, carrying an undeniable murderous aura, "Take my calling card and go to the Imperial Clan Court immediately! Ask the Grand Master of the Imperial Clan Court to affix his seal! Tell him that I, Shen Yan, the Earl of Anping, have formally betrothed my second son, Shen Hong, to Miss Sui He of the Ling family! Let's see if Shen Hong still dares to defy the imperial decree! Let's see if he dares to say 'it is not his wish'!"

Yang Quan took the name card, which seemed to be glowing with sparks. Looking at the two names forcibly placed side-by-side and the large characters "Betrothal to Sui He," his palms instantly became drenched in cold sweat. This irregular signature… He hesitated, glancing towards the study doorway—Ling Zhan was already standing there, his gaze fixed on the furious Shen Yan and the forceful letter of engagement.

"Madam...look at this..." Yang Quan's voice trembled.

Ling Zhan's gaze swept over the engagement letter, finally settling on Shen Yan's face, contorted with anger, anxiety, and deep worry for her daughter's future. She knew Shen Hong's stubbornness and understood that forcibly binding her would likely result in chaos. But the almost desperate protectiveness in Shen Yan's eyes at this moment silenced her.

She didn't object. Her clear, cold eyes were as deep as an abyss. She stared at him silently for a moment, as if assessing the storm he had stirred up. In the end, she said nothing, turned and left, her figure disappearing into the deep shadows of the corridor, leaving no trace.

In Shen Yan's eyes, this silent departure was the greatest indulgence!

"What are you waiting for! Go now!" he urged sharply, his voice slightly distorted with excitement.

In the evening, the candlelight flickered, illuminating the newly made "Anmeng Soap" on the dressing table. The elegant scent of lavender filled the silence, yet it could not dispel the gloom in Su Wan's heart. In the bronze mirror, her still young and beautiful face bore an unyielding weariness and struggle.

The Third Madam's words echoed like a curse during the day: "The mistress of the house... in terms of status, there is a world of difference... In the future, when you are old and have no children, what is the point of guarding mountains of gold and silver?"

"Children..."

Su Wan's fingers trembled unconsciously, with a hint of longing, as she gently stroked her flat, firm abdomen.

A deep, maternal warmth surged forth, only to crash against a massive, icy cliff, tearing and churning fiercely within her heart. She wanted a child! A small life flowing with her blood, a companion to rely on throughout the long years, a continuation and a source of hope for life. This longing burned within her.

But what will be the cost?

Is it to abandon the Jin Yun Manor and Jing Chen Pavilion, which she has painstakingly built from the mud, to become a concubine for a man old enough to be her father? To serve him, manage his complicated harem, and raise the children left by his ex-wife who might be hostile to her? Or... to become a refined concubine of a young and powerful man, a valuable decoration in his harem, a tool for procreation?

The beauty in the mirror bit her lip, her eyes filled with deep pain and resentment.

Outside the window, the faint yet perfectly rhythmic footsteps and the soft rustling of armor plates came from the Shura Guards on night patrol.

She walked to the window and, with trembling fingertips, opened it a crack.

The cool moonlight cast its glow, outlining Ling Feng's tall, imposing figure, as hard as iron. Like a silent rock, he led two Asura Guards across the corridor outside her courtyard. He seemed to sense the gaze from behind the window; his steps faltered almost imperceptibly, his sharp, hawk-like eyes sweeping across the window frame, carrying a hint of probing and…understanding?

Then he returned to normal, continued walking steadily, and disappeared around the corner.

Su Wan's heart clenched suddenly. She quickly closed the window crack, leaned against the cold wall, and her chest heaved.

Ling Feng... that man who also crawled out of the Black Wind Stronghold's mountain of corpses and sea of ​​blood.

His silent protection, that unspoken understanding and tacit agreement amidst calculation and superficiality—she knew it all too well. The thought of him… barely surfaced, before she forcefully suppressed it with a hint of self-mockery and a deeper bitterness.

No matter how good Ling Feng is, or how well he understands her, he is still just the commander of the Shen family's guards.

Su Wan, born into a family of textile makers in Jiangnan, fought her way out of a cannibalistic hell and earned her current business and reputation with blood, tears and wisdom. Is her final destiny to be with a bodyguard? Even if Ling Feng is different, even if he is as reliable as a mountain... her inherent pride and unwillingness make her unable to accept this seemingly "matched" ending.

What she wanted was someone who would truly allow her to stand shoulder to shoulder with her in the sunlight, someone she wouldn't have to look up to or look down upon, someone who would allow her to keep everything she had! This longing and the cold chasm of reality made her feel a bone-chilling loneliness and suffocation in the quiet of the night.

In stark contrast to Su Wan's loneliness was the scene outside the main bedroom of the Marquis of Anping's mansion.

Shen Yan, clutching his soft brocade pillow, stood pitifully yet defiantly outside the tightly closed door of Ling Zhan's bedroom. The dim light of the lanterns in the corridor cast his long shadow.

“Ling Zhan…”

His voice was drawn out and lingering, filled with an overwhelming sense of grievance and the weakness of being "severely injured." He even sniffed deliberately, as if he was about to cry at any moment. "I feel terrible... my heart hurts so much... that bastard Hong'er made me so angry... it feels like I've been stabbed, I can't breathe..."

As he spoke, he secretly observed the movement inside the door, his body swaying slightly as if he were about to collapse. "The study is as cold as an ice cellar, and I can't sleep alone! My heart is broken... If I stay alone any longer, I'm afraid I won't make it through the night... Madam... can you bear to see me like this?"

He anticipated that there would still be silence inside the door, or that the cold scabbard would pry open a crack.

However, after a moment of silence, the latch clicked softly, and the door opened silently.

Ling Zhan stood inside the door, dressed in a plain nightgown, her long hair cascading down her back. Her face was expressionless, only her cold eyes looked at Chen Yan in the dim light.

Shen Yan was overjoyed, but he remembered the lesson of being shooed away after reaching out last time! He would never take the initiative! He continued to lean "weakly" against the door frame, one hand clutching his "painful" chest, the other holding a pillow, his body swaying again, his breath growing increasingly "weak": "Madam... I... I can't stand anymore..."

His eyes shone with an astonishing intensity as he stared intently at Ling Zhan, his gaze filled with a desperate, probing intent.

Ling Zhan's gaze lingered for a moment on the hand clutching his chest and the "weak" face.

His gaze was calm and unwavering, yet it seemed to penetrate his clumsy performance, revealing the genuine frustration behind his forced marriage, his tenderness for his daughter, and at this moment... that childish, desperate attempt to get closer.

She didn't say anything.

As Shen Yan held her breath in anticipation, she frowned slightly, but unexpectedly reached out her hand—gently supporting his seemingly shaky elbow.

Cool, calloused fingertips touched his warm skin.

Shen Yan felt a sudden buzzing in his mind, and an immense surge of joy welled up like molten lava! She touched me! She didn't shoo me away! There's hope!

The overwhelming sense of accomplishment almost made him burst out laughing. He bit his tongue hard, suppressing the urge to grin, and instead "weakly" leaned closer to Ling Zhan, placing most of his weight "dependently" on her seemingly slender yet rock-solid arm. "Ah... Madam still cares about me the most..." he said weakly, his voice tinged with triumphant satisfaction, as he followed Ling Zhan "weakly" into the room.

Upon entering the room, he seemed to experience a sudden "last burst of energy," lunging towards the outer bed with a clear objective, though his movements remained "weak and slow."

He "laboriously" arranged his pillow, then "exhausted" himself as he lay down neatly, his body taut and crammed into the very edge, looking pitifully curled up. But his peach blossom eyes shone like stars in the dark night, stealing glances at Ling Zhan without blinking.

"Madam... I'll just take up a tiny bit of space... I promise I won't move... My... my heart still hurts..." he muttered softly, his body moving "naturally," little by little, closer and closer to where Ling Zhan was sleeping. Half an inch... and then another half an inch...

Ling Zhan ignored his mutterings and lay down with his back to him.

Only one wall lamp remained in the room, casting an ambiguous, dim yellow light.

Shen Yan lay there, feeling the lingering cool touch of her arm where she had touched him, the unique, refreshing scent of her and the faint warmth of her body lingering around his nose, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it would burst out of his chest.

Overwhelmed with joy and the realization that "she really does indulge me," he was so excited that his scalp tingled.

The betrothal letter and family register must be sent out tomorrow! That brat Hong'er dares to disobey? Hmph! As for tonight… He held his breath, like a cat cautiously shifting its territory, rubbing against that source of warmth, making an almost imperceptible, tiny, tiny movement…

Who cares if a forced relationship is sweet or not!

All Master Shen knew was that tonight, this "lonely pillow" was completely gone!

Moreover, it seems he's... figured out a bit of the trick!

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