Chapter 351: Willing to Be a Concubine

After artfully smoothing things over with her mother, Hua Zhi embarked on a dutiful round of paying respects to the family elders. Eventually, her path led her to Fourth Aunt’s residence, where a peculiar tension seemed to linger in the air.

“You’ve certainly taken your time,” Wu Shi remarked with a polite smile, though her eyes flickered with a subtle, unreadable complexity.

Wu Shi had barely slept since witnessing the injuries Hua Zhi endured the previous evening. Hearing about danger was one thing, but seeing its brutal aftermath had unsettled her deeply.

Hua Zhi stepped closer, her gaze sharp as ever. “Ying Chun mentioned you seemed upset, and now I see you’re looking far from your best. What’s going on?”

Wu Shi pressed a hand to her forehead, hesitating. “It’s almost too absurd to admit aloud, but… do you remember Hua Yan from the Fourth Branch?”

Hua Zhi leaned back, vaguely recalling the name. “Hua Yan… tall, willowy, and pretty enough, right?”

“There are no unattractive girls in the Hua family,” Wu Shi replied with a pointed glance. She studied Hua Zhi, whose transformation in recent months was undeniable. While Hua Yan may have once turned heads, Hua Zhi had long since surpassed them all. Her appeal wasn’t just in her looks—it was the commanding confidence and unshakable charisma that set her apart.

Unfazed by the backhanded compliment, Hua Zhi raised an eyebrow. “I’ll take that as flattery. So, what about Hua Yan? What kind of mess has she gotten herself into?”

Wu Shi’s smile tightened, her tone bitter. “She’s been fraternizing with Feng Changyu from the Feng family. A few days ago, they sent someone to propose marriage.”

“Propose?!” Hua Zhi snapped upright, her voice laced with incredulity. She knew exactly what Wu Shi meant but needed to hear it spelled out.

“Yes,” Wu Shi sighed, her bitterness deepening. “She willingly agreed to become his concubine, just for the sake of being associated with the Feng family.”

“Has the girl completely lost her senses?” Hua Zhi’s expression hardened, a steely chill creeping into her voice. “I’ve made it perfectly clear before—this family will never stoop to pawning off its women like the He family. The Hua family does not trade dignity for status.”

“The Fourth Branch didn’t approve, of course,” Wu Shi explained. “Even if Feng Changyu lacks a legitimate wife, the Hua family has no interest in such an arrangement. But the Feng family has already spread rumors, implying the two were engaged in some clandestine affair. It’s becoming harder to contain.”

Hua Zhi’s lips curled into a cold smile, her tone dripping with disdain. “If this scandal can’t be contained, then so be it. If she’s so determined to disgrace herself for a man who treats her like a side dish, let her rot in her choices. We’ve no use for a girl who soils the family name over a fleeting infatuation.”

“Hua Zhi,” Wu Shi said cautiously, “while we may not care about Hua Yan’s folly, this could tarnish the reputations of all Hua family girls. The consequences could be far-reaching.”

Hua Zhi crossed her arms, her expression dark. She already envisioned the whispers, the sly remarks, and the venomous judgment that would undoubtedly follow. And yet, there was no denying the truth: Hua Yan had chosen this disgrace of her own accord.

But the Feng family...

She vividly recalled her grandfather’s stern warning, a relic of wisdom passed down like a family curse: steer clear of the Wei and Feng clans. Oh, she had done her homework, tracing the tangled webs of the capital’s elites, and it hadn’t taken much to connect Feng Changyu to the infamous Feng family. His name stuck in her memory, not because it shone with brilliance, but because it reeked of scandal—a reputation that preceded him and lingered like a stubborn stench.

“I’ll go take a look,” she said, measured and sharp.

“I’ll join you,” came the immediate, almost too-eager reply.

Wu Shi had spent the night tossing and turning, a prisoner to her own worries. But watching her eldest niece now—so composed, so maddeningly unbothered—it was enough to settle her frayed nerves. As they made their way to the Fourth House's branch, Wu Shi shifted the conversation with a deliberately casual air, though her words carried the weight of something unspoken.

“Do you know the young master from the Jiang family?” she asked, as if this were mere gossip and not a loaded inquiry. “He came by to see you while you were out.”

“Jiang Huanran?” Hua Zhi’s tone betrayed no surprise, just a faint hint of acknowledgment.

“Yes, that’s the name on his calling card,” Wu Shi replied, her voice tinged with something between approval and apprehension.

“I know him,” Hua Zhi said coolly. “We crossed paths when I was heading south. He lent a hand back then. Did he say why he came?”

“He didn’t. Just heard you weren’t home and left.”

Hua Zhi shrugged off the news with practiced indifference. If Jiang Huanran had lent a hand in the seafood business, she’d repay the favor, perhaps even loop the Jiang family into her ventures—a calculated move rather than a sentimental one.

Wu Shi studied her niece’s placid expression and felt a pang of something she couldn’t quite name. The Jiang family had an untarnished name, a rarity in their social circles. Under different circumstances—if not for the Hua family’s heavy baggage—Hua Zhi might have secured a comfortable, even enviable, life as Jiang Huanran’s wife.

But fate, with its cruel sense of irony, had other plans.

Still, it wasn’t just resignation Wu Shi felt as she mulled it over. There was also a flicker of relief. Hua Zhi, it seemed, had a talent for evading entanglements, be it the gilded chains of the Shen family or the seemingly golden prospects of the Jiang family. Whether this was a testament to her independence or a sign of some deeper, unspoken bitterness, Wu Shi couldn’t decide.

In the end, she was left with an unsettling mix of gratitude and regret—thankful that the Hua family was finally stable, yet haunted by the nagging feeling that stability had come at a cost no one dared to name.

*

The Fourth House branch was unaware that Hua Zhi had returned. When the old lady came out to greet her, she looked visibly ashamed.

Hua Zhi respectfully bowed, "Fourth Grandaunt, I'm back."

"Welcome back, welcome back."

Taking a neatly stacked pile of letters from Bao Xia, Hua Zhi handed them over, "I just got back last night, so I didn't want to disturb you."

Not only the old lady but also the ladies and girls from the other houses all bowed their heads. They couldn't share her concerns, but just as she had returned, they were now faced with dealing with this troublesome matter. The thought of it made their faces burn with embarrassment.

Hua Zhi didn’t waste energy resenting people who wallowed in guilt without cause; she simply found it pointless. Instead, she approached the old matriarch with a measured calm, though her words had the precision of a dagger. “Where is Yan’er?” she asked, her tone leaving no room for deflection.

The old lady, burdened by regret, patted Hua Zhi’s hand as if that could soften the weight of her confession. “She’s locked herself in her room,” she sighed, a theatrical release of guilt. “It’s my fault. I thought she had nowhere else to turn, so I foolishly let her visit Qin’er a few times. I didn’t realize she’d twist that opportunity into... something else. Zhi’er, Fourth Grandaunt knows you’re clever enough to have a plan. Don’t waste your energy worrying about me—do what needs to be done. We can’t let one girl’s bad decisions stain the reputation of every unmarried Hua family daughter.”

Her words hovered in the air, heavy with veiled accusations and unspoken grievances. Hua Zhi met them with the faintest of smiles, her reply cutting in its brevity. “With your permission, I know what must be done.”

When they reached the girl’s courtyard, Hua Zhi released the old woman’s hand. “There’s no need for you to come inside,” she said smoothly, though her tone hinted that her decision was final, regardless of protests.

“But that’s hardly—”

“It’s fine,” Hua Zhi interrupted, her voice sharp enough to silence the protest. “I need to understand why she’s so eager to throw away her dignity.”

The old lady stopped, clearly torn between indignation and resignation. She remained rooted to the spot, neither stepping forward nor retreating, her silence more telling than any words could be.

The servant fumbled with the lock, pushing the door open before stepping aside, hands folded neatly in submission.

Inside, Hua Yan greeted the interruption with cold sarcasm. “Oh, you’re not locking me up anymore? How generous. I thought—” Her words caught in her throat the moment she saw Hua Zhi. Shock flared in her eyes, and she stood up instinctively, her haughty façade crumbling.

Hua Zhi didn’t speak right away. She stood there, her gaze assessing every inch of Hua Yan. Taller, but hardly intimidating.

The celebrated beauty of the Hua daughters had always been a gentle thing—refined and understated, crafted to soothe rather than provoke. But with Hua Yan, something about it missed the mark. Her charm felt like an ill-fitted gown—an elegance meant to be effortless, now slipping clumsily from her grasp.

In a family steeped in scholarship, literacy wasn’t an accomplishment; it was a prerequisite. Growing up amidst erudite elders, Hua Yan had absorbed some of that learned air by osmosis. She was beautiful, poised, and educated—a trifecta that had once made Hua daughters coveted brides. Before the family’s downfall, they’d been sought after like rare treasures.

Hua Yan, though, brought something more to the table. It wasn’t just beauty or breeding—there was a sharp edge to her allure, particularly when bitterness curled her lips. She had a knack for making her resentment oddly seductive, even as her demeanor occasionally veered toward the aggressive.

Hua Zhi made her appraisal with all the finesse of someone who knew they had the upper hand. Sliding into her seat with practiced grace, she motioned for Hua Yan to do the same, her air of superiority as cutting as the autumn wind.

Hua Yan hesitated but relented, step by grudging step, until she folded herself into the chair opposite the octagonal table. Her gaze dropped, refusing to meet her cousin’s eyes. It wasn’t clear if she lacked the courage or simply couldn’t be bothered.

“I hear you willingly agreed to be the Feng family’s concubine,” Hua Zhi began, her tone a silken blade. “Even let them carry you to their door in a sedan chair.”

Hua Yan’s reply was clipped. “Yes.”

“Why?” Hua Zhi pressed, her voice tinged with genuine bafflement—though not enough to hide the judgment lurking beneath. “The Hua family could rise again. Endure a little longer, and proper matchmaking could still secure a good marriage. So why choose a path so...beneath you?”

Hua Yan finally lifted her eyes, her gaze deep and unreadable. “Cousin,” she began, her voice low but steady, “I’m sixteen. I’ve already been rejected once. Who’s going to marry me into a decent family now? I don’t want to rot away in the Hua household, growing old and invisible. I don’t have your talents or your options. I just want a place where I can exist without the weight of it all. Somewhere I can breathe.”

———TN: I'm beginning the process of uploading today's translation, so bear with me—this is a one-person show where I handle both the translating and the editing.

Yes, it’s a lot, but someone’s got to do it. You can expect at least five chapters to be completed today, so hold onto your patience (if you have any).

And hey, try to stay upbeat while you’re at it. Let’s power through, shall we? Ganbatte! Jiayou!!!