Chapter 4: A Good Retort Keeps You Young
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Shen Lang admired his masterpiece, finally able to eat with satisfaction and ease.
Meanwhile, Song Xiaomei, watching from the shadows, was utterly perplexed.
In just one afternoon, the bizarre ritual of “the legitimate wife of the dim-witted second sister folding her chopsticks and banging her bowl before eating” had spread like wildfire through the neighboring households.
That night, Song Ruzhao moved the kitchen to a corner and transformed it into a sleeping alcove. This was the territory of the second household, assigned to Jusi Fu to occupy.
The main bedroom was reserved for the first household—
But only as a floor mat.
The little rascal burrowed under Song Ruzhao’s quilt, sleeping in a frog-like crouch, his stomach humming a tune, occasionally letting out a series of continuous farts.
Song Ruzhao switched to breathing fresh air and, seeing her husband’s peculiar train of thought, advised him:
“Hey, wouldn’t you sleep better if you lay symmetrically with me? No, you’d only end up drinking more cold wind.”
“I’m particular,” he declared, only to have a draft blow straight into his mouth through the door crack.
Song Ruzhao gloated, “Fine then, the one who’s particular gets frozen.”
After a while, the cold wind howled fiercely. The creaky little door couldn’t stay closed. He sneezed and jumped up, growling, “Hey, don’t you have a latch on this door?”
“Six years ago, didn’t you steal the door bolt?”
The boomerang came suddenly; wrapped tightly like a spring roll in the quilt, he was just about to fall asleep when the wind became unruly, nearly blowing the entire door off.
He squinted, “Why is your door broken too?”
“Four years ago, didn’t you tear it apart?”
“...”
Boomerang times two. He restrained himself, sounding a bit pleading, “Hey, do you still have a bed alcove? The floor is really cold.”
“Two years ago, didn’t your kung fu master smash it with one palm strike?”
“...”
Boomerang times three—karma’s a relentless debtor.
After all, he was the emperor. To avoid post-autumn reckoning, Song Ruzhao reluctantly relinquished the warm, toasty alcove to him.
The long night stretched on, the roof’s fierce wind howled and circled, clashing with the mild spring warmth. The cawing of crows grew increasingly eerie and mournful.
Suddenly, Song Ruzhao realized that tonight’s life and death were uncertain!
[System Alert: Anomaly detected on the roof, please protect the emperor.]
She immediately became alert, listening closely to the rustling atop the eaves—who was prying at the tiles?
Could it be a rat?
She lifted the corner of her quilt and looked up—the roof had a fist-sized hole!
Before she could react further, a sharp blade-like object shot through the hole, piercing straight toward her vital spot under the cold moonlight.
Quick-eyed and quick-handed, Song Ruzhao wrapped herself in the quilt. A cocoon-like bundle rolled over just as a sharp crack echoed—the solid earth beneath shattered like tree roots splitting apart.
Almost taking her life was a jagged tile.
[System double standard: You almost lost your life, but the emperor is about to perish!]
Song Ruzhao: “...”
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In a flash, a clatter rang from the eaves. The blue-gray tiles lost their grip, tumbling from the fist-sized hole like a string of firecrackers set ablaze, plummeting toward Shen Lang.
Fortunately, the thick winter quilt acted as a buffer, somewhat cushioning the falling shards. Song Ruzhao threw the quilt over her arm and dashed toward him. Wrapped together in the blanket, they rolled like a large spring roll, finally tumbling outside the door.
Only then did someone wake and shout, “Song Ruzhao, how dare you force me? I’ll exterminate your entire clan of nine... no, ten families!”
The other argued reasonably, “Since you married in, my ten families are your ten families!”
“...”
The collapsing tiles accelerated, and the bed alcove instantly turned as fragile as thin paper, doomed on the spot.
Dreadful—where was the little rascal?
A wail echoed through the sky; it turned out he was dreaming he was a frog, accidentally having crawled into the safe zone to sleep.
The three heads lifted in unison as the roof gaped like a hungry mouth or a pair of torn trousers.
The culprit was negligent, and fury flared: “Jusi Fu! Did a spirit drag you into your dreams?”
“I’m here!”
It was unclear if Jusi Fu had been lying low or was just sluggishly waking. Whether slow or fast, he arrived at lightning speed, leaping over eaves and walls, his gaze still icy as ever. He gently cradled the little rascal.
After cleaning up the mess, the three lay down to sleep on the ground in the faint dawn light.
[System Reward: Two and a half miraculous recovery talismans.]
This reward was somewhat normal and could be used for healing, but that half talisman was puzzling.
When the sun rose to its fiercest, at the corner of Chonghua Lane, the curious crowd leisurely gathered: last night, Song the Dim-Witted and her two husbands, newlyweds, had caused the house to collapse—
Hearing this, Song Xiaodi was delighted, quickly taking a small portion from the wedding money to buy new tiles for his second sister. “Wishing you an early noble heir.”
Song Ruzhao complained, “How can I conceive? The bed alcove is dead.”
Song Xiaodi brightened again, taking out a string of copper coins: “After ten months, I’ll wait for your good news.”
“...”
“Oh, second sister, eat two or three raw eggs with every meal.”
Song Ruzhao was suspicious: “Why?”
“That way, you’ll have ten babies,” he said confidently, offering ten times the wedding money.
“Who told you that?”
Song Xiaodi pointed next door: “Auntie told me. Her old sow eats like that—either pregnant or giving birth.”
“...”
Song Ruzhao was dumbfounded; this fool seemed more like he truly was dim-witted.
She agreed readily: “Fine, then I still need money for eggs.”
“...”
Song Xiaodi reluctantly gave another two copper coins.
—
With a clatter, an iron hoe landed before Shen Lang, who was analyzing the bed collapse from last night. Interrupted, his refined, elegant face lifted leisurely, his narrow eyes conveying “What now?”
Song Ruzhao smiled faintly: “Go catch the rats. The tiles were all overturned by them last night. Lucky for you, I saved you.”
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But seeing she threw a bag of copper coins to her younger husband, the legitimate wife was displeased: “What about him?”
“The younger husband is responsible for buying new tiles, food, and the bed alcove. Or you can go yourself.”
One stayed indoors, the other ran errands; Shen Lang understood who was the real workhorse. Knowing when to be sensible, he picked up the hoe and went to chase rats.
The younger husband stood puzzled, weighing the two taels of copper coins. Barely enough for basic sustenance, let alone new tiles or a bed alcove…
Was she too ambitious?
Soon, Song Ruzhao carried the little rascal out the door.
Pretending to put down his tools, Shen Lang looked down at a leisurely wandering rat, then up at the somber sky.
Outside the fifth lane, a palace guard disguised as a farmer followed a secret signal. Suddenly, he understood! He abandoned his marker, scaled the lane wall, and faced a path that was neither a road nor not, able to find his way blindfolded.
Just then, a cold wind blew, and the “farmer” arrived as expected.
Recalling the past, the “farmer” marveled, “The fourth time now—the master has fallen into Song the Dim-Witted’s hands again. Next time, no need for secret signals; that thicket was once overgrown with thorns, but now I’ve cleared it into a path.”
Li Shi gathered his thoughts: “Several assassination attempts have involved Song Ruzhao. Too many coincidences to be coincidence. We’ve all been fooled—she pretended to be crazy and foolish all along.”
“Has the master uncovered any secrets?”
“Her sleeping posture is vastly different from before—wild, even.”
The palace guard was puzzled.
“What about court affairs when I’m away?”
He reported, “The crown prince is acting as regent. The fox tail hasn’t been revealed yet. Regarding the emperor’s assassination and disappearance, the old guards have been striking repeatedly, saying they’re busy draining the Qujiang waters.”
“How much longer will you stay at the Song residence?”
Determined to uncover Song Ruzhao’s true nature, he waved his iron hoe: “Let’s catch some rats here for a few days first.”
The guard looked around, pupils shaking slightly. Just as the rumors said, the bed had collapsed, the roof too.
Recalling the earlier “wild sleeping posture,” and glancing at his master, who bore dark circles likely from sleepless nights and excess, it was clear.
That whole clan gossip at the big tree corner was true!
For his own future, he could not turn a blind eye. Taking a deep breath, he advised:
“Well, master, some things can wait... The harem has three thousand beauties; no need to seek cheap pleasures outside. Most importantly, take care of your health—I’m counting on you for a promotion. Please take care of yourself! Your humble servant takes his leave!”
“Stop! Bring me twelve strings of cash.”
The guard stomped, frustrated at the master’s stubbornness: “No, even if we have money, we shouldn’t just spend it here! You came with your whole family, and now you’re counting coins for her?”
“Shut up—deduct it from her father’s salary.”
“What if that’s not enough?”
“Then deduct from her eldest sister’s too.”
“...”
Afraid of making a wrong move, he quickly clutched his money pouch and left as fast as he could.