Chapter 88: The Thief’s Heart Remains Unrepentant

Although a tumult of emotions surged within him, Shen Zhifeng remained outwardly composed. Holding Lady Jiang in his arms, he gazed into her eyes and called her by her childhood name, “Weiwei, your eyes are so beautiful. I feel as if I see a poem reflected in them.”

At this moment, Lady Jiang’s eyes were hazy with longing, her hand clutching Shen Zhifeng’s collar, her legs shifting restlessly, clearly overcome with passion. Hearing Shen Zhifeng’s praise, delight blossomed in her heart. She lowered her head, bit her lip, and responded in a soft, literary tone, “My dear Shen, then cherish me well.”

Her words were both coquettish and teasing, but Shen Zhifeng suddenly assumed the air of a gentleman unmoved by temptation. He brushed aside a strand of hair that had fallen beside Lady Jiang’s hairpin. “Weiwei, there’s no need to rush. Let me look at you carefully. I never realized before how naturally beautiful and delicate you are. I’m almost afraid to touch you too firmly, for fear I might hurt you.”

Lady Jiang shot him a reproachful glance, her eyes brimming with affection. “Don’t worry about me. Just give yourself to me without restraint.”

With that, she closed her eyes, ready to welcome the storm she so ardently anticipated.

Yet Shen Zhifeng still avoided the main event, instead turning the conversation to his thoughts and to literature.

The air, once thick with intimacy, now grew tinged with awkwardness.

Lady Jiang thought to herself: I’ve already taken off my dress, and you just want to chat?

Unable to find satisfaction, she finally grew a little disgruntled, frowning. “What’s gotten into you, my dear Shen? Weren’t you the one who invited me here? Are you put off by my age, do I no longer attract you? Were all those things you just said nothing but empty words meant to placate me?”

At last, Shen Zhifeng felt the effects of the potion take hold; his expression changed, and he pressed Lady Jiang down onto the bed. “How could that be, Weiwei? You’re simply too beautiful.”

With that, he pulled the quilt over them.

The bed heaved and shifted; at long last, the rain Lady Jiang had so longed for began to fall.

......

Afterwards, Lady Jiang lay sated atop Shen Zhifeng’s chest, her lips swollen, a radiant light flickering in her eyes—testament to the passion of their encounter.

In stark contrast, Shen Zhifeng lay with his eyes closed, gasping for breath, feeling more exhausted and spent than ever before. Yet he still managed to boast, “Weiwei, if I weren’t worried you’d be unable to bear it, I’d have tangled with you for another three hundred rounds.”

A smile threatened to break through the corners of Lady Jiang’s mouth. She playfully struck Shen Zhifeng, then, as if something occurred to her, asked, “No one discovered us that day, did they? I can’t help still feeling uneasy.”

Shen Zhifeng stroked her chin. “I checked everything. Don’t you trust me to handle things? Stop worrying needlessly.”

In the next room, Shen Qingyun silently thought, You really ought to worry a bit more—after all, at this very moment, I’m sitting right next door.

She sipped her tea, suppressing her nausea. Though she had arrived late and hadn’t heard anything, just the thought of those two in the next room made her deeply uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, the couple in the adjacent room remained oblivious, their greed undiminished as they turned the conversation to matters concerning the Shen household.

Lady Jiang tentatively probed, “Since Lin’er is to marry Sisi, surely Madam Han will have to provide a proper dowry? After all, Sisi is the legitimate eldest daughter of the Duke’s household—she must have a show of status. Otherwise, if someone else were to marry Shen Qingyun, they’d have to think twice.”

Shen Zhifeng frowned at her words. “That woman Han Rou is devoted solely to her daughter Shen Qingyun now. She’s already told me that everything she owns will be left to Shen Qingyun as her dowry. She’s utterly disloyal—a complete lunatic.”

“Isn’t that always the way? A married daughter is like water spilled—she belongs to another family now.” Lady Jiang’s tone was indignant, but she quickly changed tack. “But it’s different with me. Didn’t we agree before that things would be split evenly?”

“That would require your son to marry Shen Qingyun. As things stand, I have no way to make that happen.”

“You’re just going to watch such a large dowry fall into someone else’s hands?”

A ruthless glint flashed in Shen Zhifeng’s eyes. “Of course not.”

Recalling her son Jiang Lin’s distracted state these past few days, Lady Jiang inwardly cursed Shen Qingyun as a vixen—how could her son not let her go?

She shook Shen Zhifeng’s shoulder. “Why not let my son Jiang Lin marry Shen Qingyun as a co-wife? It’s not unheard of for sisters to marry into the same household.”

Shen Zhifeng shook his head. “Impossible. Han Rou would never agree.”

Lady Jiang shot him a look. “You’re Shen Qingyun’s father, the master of the Duke’s household. Why can’t you make the decision? If Han Rou refuses, just make her unable to refuse!”

Shen Zhifeng dearly wished he could make such a decision, but he knew he could not force Han Rou, and the pain of that had been gnawing at him for over a decade.

His tone grew colder as he spoke. “Weiwei, do you have any ideas?”

“A woman’s greatest value lies in her ability to bear children. A woman who cannot conceive is nothing more than a hen that cannot lay eggs—worthless. Who would want to marry her then?” Lady Jiang’s words were loaded with meaning.

“This…” Shen Zhifeng hesitated.

Seeing Shen Qingyun’s beauty blossom day by day, he still dreamed of marrying her to a prince. Even if not as principal wife, she might become a concubine—at least then he’d have ties to royalty.

But if she was drugged, she would be ruined.

Lady Jiang, sensing his thoughts, tried to persuade him. “That girl’s heart is not with the Duke’s household. I doubt she has much respect for you as her father. If she marries well, she won’t think to help you. But if something went wrong with her, no one would want her. Wouldn’t Madam Han have to add more to her dowry? That’s real silver in your own hands!”

Silver—yes, he was the Duke, yet his hands were embarrassingly empty.

Her words finally swayed Shen Zhifeng, though he still hesitated. “That girl manages the household accounts now, and she’s made the Jianjia Courtyard quite secure. It won’t be easy to drug her and expose her in such a place.”

“If the Jianjia Courtyard is hard to enter, isn’t there still the Warm Jade Pavilion?” Lady Jiang tapped his chest with her finger.

“You mean…”

They exchanged a look, understanding passing silently between them.

Lady Jiang was thrilled. Han Rou—if Shen Qingyun ever learned it was you who ruined her, wouldn’t she turn against you? Then, unloved by your husband and abandoned by your child, wouldn’t you suffer even more than I do?

As Shen Zhifeng thought of that lavish dowry, the final trace of guilt in his heart faded away. Shen Qingyun was his daughter—was it not right for her to make sacrifices for him?

As for Madam Han, she owed him from the start. She deserved whatever she got.