Private Thoughts

Since ancient times, daughters-in-law have endured until they become the matriarchs. Every woman in the Liang household—Lady Wei, Lady Xiao, the second sister-in-law—has persevered in this way. Day after day, they perform their morning and evening duties, and day after day, they endure. By the time their hair turns white, and they reach the age of the old lady, outliving their husbands and in-laws, then, at last, they may stand tall. Yet, by then, they are old, their appetites diminished, and even sleep eludes them.

It was midday, the sky devoid of a single cloud, the fiery orange sunlight nearly roasting the earth. The hot wind swept waves of heat through the courtyard. Waiting for Lady Wei’s summons, Yingshi soon felt her forehead and temples sticky and clammy, her head heavy and dizzy. Her feet unconsciously sought the shade, step by step moving beneath the trees, but the summer sun seemed to seep through every crack and corner, steaming and baking all things.

Xiangyao, braving the blazing sun, hurried to the main house with her skirt lifted, unable to help herself as she asked, “Nanny, could you check again? Has the lady not awakened yet?” Three times a day, precisely on the hour, she was called to attend her mistress. Yingshi dared not even nap, coming through the heat, only to be stopped outside.

They claimed Lady Wei had not yet awoken! What purpose was there in summoning them if she slept? Lady Wei’s nanny, her gaze never once glancing at Yingshi, wore the same gentle smile as her mistress, replying, “If the young lady cannot wait, she may return first. When the lady is awake, I will send word for her.” Xiangyao rolled her eyes in frustration. It was clear that Lady Wei had spent the past two days setting rules for her mistress, deliberately choosing the hottest time to call them. If they left, she would surely send for them again!

Yet Xiangyao dared not protest, only returning to Yingshi’s side in a few hurried steps, fanning her to block the sun. Yingshi remained calm, for she was all too familiar with Lady Wei’s methods—so much so that, had Lady Wei not resumed her torment these past days, she might have forgotten those memories from her previous life, when she first entered the Liang residence.

Whether in her past life or now, Lady Wei treated her this way from the moment she arrived, never neglecting a single rule. She still remembered once wearing a floral embroidered skirt in error, which Lady Wei saw, immediately chilling her face and nearly scolding her outright—only barely refraining from uttering harsh words accusing her of dressing up to seduce men so soon after her husband’s death.

Later—when did Lady Wei’s attitude soften toward her? Yingshi could not recall. Suddenly, she understood: the reason Lady Wei changed in her previous life was never due to her own respectful, filial conduct; it was because Lady Wei’s only son had died, leaving no hope, and in her old age, she would have to rely on her daughter-in-law.

Having realized this, Yingshi’s heart was filled with a feeling she could not name.

A dull heaviness settled within her, as though something beautiful and precious had been shattered, causing her to lower her head, fearing that someone might glimpse the grief that did not suit the moment.

A gentle breeze stirred beneath the eaves, flower petals fell upon the stone steps with a soft rustle. Liang Yun returned from the palace, still dressed in his deep purple official robes. His hair was bound by a high crown, a long sword hung at his waist, the wide straight-cut robes accentuating his slender and upright figure. The blazing sunlight traced his prominent brow like a dividing line, casting a deep shadow along his nose.

Upon hearing his arrival, Yingshi hurriedly raised her gaze, though he did not spare her even a glance.

“Greetings, Lord!” The nannies who had earlier ignored Yingshi and her maidservant now rushed forward, bowing and flattering Liang Yun with utmost respect, offering their salutations. Before they could announce his arrival, the maids inside the main house, as though informed, lifted the door curtains one by one to welcome him.

Liang Yun handed his sword to the attendant behind him. “Is Mother awake?” His voice was low and deep.

The maids, ignoring Yingshi still waiting outside in the sun, hurriedly replied, “The lady has just awakened—please, Lord, come inside and have a cup of tea.”

Lady Wei was, by blood, Liang Yun’s maternal aunt. She and Liang Yun’s birth mother were cousin sisters. She was not a cruel woman; otherwise, Liang Yun would not have grown up unharmed in her care. His mother had no sisters, and after her sudden death, Liang Yun’s grandmother personally selected Lady Wei, a gentle and well-born niece from a prestigious clan, to marry into the Liang family and care for her newborn grandson.

Yet, even the shrewdest grandmother could not foresee the decades to come. When Lady Wei first entered the household, she was genuinely kind and innocent, doting on the infant Liang Yun, raising him with care—everyone who saw it would offer praise.

When Liang Yun was young, he did not even know Lady Wei was his foster mother; their affection as mother and son was genuine and sincere. But later, everything changed when Lady Wei became pregnant and bore a son of her own. From the moment she conceived, the balance shifted imperceptibly.

But now, all of that was past. Liang Ji was dead, and Lady Wei had no other children. Her future fortune and honor would depend solely on Liang Yun. Night after night, Lady Wei grieved bitterly, cursing and lamenting, but eventually she rekindled the heartfelt affection she had for Liang Yun in her youth, seemingly forgetting the years of coldness between them.

Seeing Liang Yun return, Lady Wei ordered the maids to replace the ice and serve him tea and water.

“It’s so hot outside—why come to see your mother at this hour?” Though Liang Yun was naturally aloof and proud, he possessed a truly generous heart. He bore no grudges over past grievances, and after Liang Ji’s death, he treated Lady Wei with great filial respect.

His visit today was for a matter of importance. “I have come to inform Mother that the Ministry of Rites has agreed to confer the posthumous title of General Who Pacifies the Barbarians upon Third Brother. In a few days, the imperial decree will be issued,” Liang Yun said.

Lady Wei, hearing this, finally showed genuine satisfaction. She blamed Liang Yun for insisting Liang Ji go to war, which led to her son’s death. Yet, had Liang Yun not led his troops in time to retrieve Liang Ji’s body from among countless corpses, she might not even have recovered his remains.

This defeat had been devastating… How could the posthumous honor come so easily? No doubt Liang Yun had worked tirelessly for Liang Ji’s affairs. Even if Lady Wei still disliked Liang Yun, she had to admit that, though young, he possessed extraordinary ability. The future of the Liang family, all its power and prestige, would rest in his hands…

Lady Wei suppressed her bitterness, unable to speak for a moment.

Liang Yun’s gaze passed through the window to a corner of the courtyard—falling upon the pale skirt beneath the pear tree. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting a mosaic of golden shadows, dazzling and resplendent like fragments of gold.

Separated by flowers and trees, at a distance, he could not truly see her face. Yet, upon seeing that skirt, her features appeared vividly before his eyes, over and over.

Beneath the flowering branches, her delicate and flawless face. When he saw her just now, perhaps because the sun was so fierce, her snow-white cheeks seemed dusted with a rosy glow, her forehead and temples glistening with fragrant sweat, her spirit wilted and listless. The heat outside was surely unbearable for her.

Suddenly, Liang Yun recalled that night when she, full of grievance and tears, said to him, “Mother does not like me…”

Why, why must she be disliked—