Chapter 1

Chapter 1

In the Zhao Family ancestral hall, only Zhao Hong, his son, and I remained.

I looked at my eight-year-old nephew.

“Zhao Yan.”

He stiffened his neck and glared at me.

The moment he heard me call his name, he bristled all over, fixing me with a vicious stare.

“You are eight this year. You should be old enough to understand plain speech. Just now, you said I wasn’t worthy to be your mother…”

“You’re not worthy!”

I did not get angry. I calmly finished what I had to say. “You’re right. I’m not worthy. So from now on, I will not concern myself with anything to do with you or your sister. Your studies, your clan school, your reputation before the nobles, your sister’s upbringing, whether there will be a mistress of the household to arrange your marriages in the future, none of it has anything to do with me.”

Zhao Yan’s stubborn defiance suddenly jammed to a halt.

The mocking curve still lingered at the corner of Zhao Hong’s mouth.

But after he heard what I said to Zhao Yan, most of that mockery faded.

I said evenly, “The two of them are children, one eight and the other only five. Someone egged them on to embarrass me. I don’t blame them.”

Zhao Hong’s brow lifted slightly.

“But,” I said, looking at Zhao Hong as my voice sank, “I will say the ugly words first.”

He gave a cold laugh. His posture clearly said: A concubine-born daughter thinks she is qualified to negotiate with me?

I stared at him and enunciated every word. “On our wedding night, you left me alone in an empty bridal chamber to humiliate me. This morning, during the family greetings, you indulged Zhao Yan while he spat at me in public. I am petty by nature. I hold grudges. And after I get revenge, I savor it over and over again.”

The trace of a smile at Zhao Hong’s lips froze.

He slowly narrowed his eyes, a hint of surprise surfacing in them.

“You said I wasn’t worthy to bear your children,” I continued. “I agree. So from now on, you need not set even half a foot inside my courtyard.”

His eyes narrowed abruptly, and then he let out a scoff. “Wang Wanyi, are you playing hard to get with me? Don’t tell me you actually think…”

I ignored him and went on. “I have made myself very clear. If you come, then you, Zhao Hong, will be slapping your own face and proving yourself a hypocrite. It will not be me, Wang Wanyi, eagerly throwing myself at you. What do you think outsiders will say?”

Zhao Hong’s expression darkened visibly.

I did not give him a chance to catch his breath before continuing. “As for Zhao Yan, he is still a child. His view of right and wrong has not yet formed. He was used as someone else’s weapon without even realizing it. I don’t blame him.”

I looked at Zhao Hong, my voice suddenly three shades colder. “But you, his father, knew someone had incited your son to embarrass me. Not only did you fail to stop him, you stood by and watched. I won’t settle accounts with him. I will settle them with you.”

“Zhao Hong, I will give the two of them only one chance.”

I spoke each word with deliberate clarity. “If they refuse to acknowledge me as their stepmother, fine. If one day they come to their senses and want to acknowledge me, that is also fine. But there will be conditions. In front of the entire household, they must perform the full ceremony of three bows and nine kowtows to me, personally serve me tea, and admit that they were incited by malicious people, failed to distinguish right from wrong, and lacked proper upbringing.”

“Before that,” I said, curving my lips, “there is nothing to discuss.”

The ancestral hall fell completely silent.

The lamp wick popped again, as though adding the final period for me.

Zhao Hong stared at me, his chest rising and falling slightly.

That earlier condescension of his, that look of “let’s see what you can do,” had shattered cleanly. In its place was the anger and humiliation of a man held over the fire.

No matter how much he looked down on me, he understood that the running of a great household could never do without its mistress.

Nor could the growth of children do without a mother’s arrangements.

By indulging his son today and letting him openly clash with me, his stepmother, the one who lost out was not me. It was the father and son. Especially Zhao Yan.

If they offended me to the point of no return, Zhao Hong himself would gain nothing from it either.

After a long silence, he suddenly laughed. The sound was low and cold, like a blade scraping over a whetstone.

“Wang Wanyi,” he finally said through gritted teeth, “it seems I underestimated you before.”

I met his gaze, my tone so courteous it was as if I were receiving a guest. “You flatter me, my lord. There is still a long road ahead. Take your time and see for yourself.”