Chapter 3: A Crushing Blow from Her Own Mother

A flash of disbelief flickered in Chu Mu’s eyes, but in the next instant, he realized his mother must have misunderstood him. Otherwise, she would never have treated Shen Zhao with such harshness. It was all the doing of that wily old servant, Madam Liu, running about stirring up trouble and deceiving those above her.

“Mother, your daugh—daughter-in-law has something she wishes to—” Chu Mu began, intending to reveal Madam Liu’s true face before his mother.

But before he could finish, a cold command rang out: “Someone, come! Let Shen learn her lesson. I just gave my orders, yet she dares defy me again—beat her, and do not hold back.”

Chu Mu stared straight at his mother. The woman before him, her gaze cold and venomous, her voice sharp and her face frosted with anger, seemed nothing like the gentle, kind-eyed mother he remembered, whose words were always warm.

It must have been Madam Liu’s manipulations. Only in her wrath would his mother act so, for even a clay figurine has a temper.

A maid approached, gripping a cane as thick as a finger, drawing closer to Chu Mu with every step. She raised it, about to strike his back.

“Stop!” A voice resounded from behind—one Chu Mu could not be more familiar with, deep and commanding. It was his own.

As Shen Zhao passed by Chu Mu, she cast him a complicated look. Part of her wished Chu Mu could taste the pain of that cane, for its blows cut to the bone; yet she dreaded her own body suffering more, fearing if they switched back, her body would not endure.

Imitating Chu Mu’s usual manner, she spoke: “Your son greets you, Mother. I do not know what fault Lady Shen has committed this time to draw your ire, but I beg you to calm your anger for your health—your son will handle all matters.”

She then shot a cold look at Chu Mu. Now, she was Chu Mu in every sense.

No doubt, Chu Mu was now experiencing the daily torment she endured—this was only the beginning. In the past, whenever she clashed with the Matron, Chu Mu always intervened just so: never caring for right or wrong, always siding with his mother, punishing her cruelly at the slightest provocation.

The Matron’s face once more softened into geniality, her tone gentle: “Shen has always been arrogant and unruly. Early this morning, before I had even risen, she barged in, ignoring the servants, raising her voice at her mother-in-law. Buddha preserve us, how did our Chu family end up with such a disrespectful daughter-in-law?”

As she spoke, the Matron twirled her prayer beads, gazing at “Shen Zhao” with a look of pain and disappointment.

Chu Mu could scarcely believe these words came from his mother. Could it be…? Or perhaps his mother had not sent Madam Liu to summon Shen Zhao at all; Madam Liu had acted on her own, deceiving everyone.

That must be it—his mother had been kept in the dark, which was why she was so angry when he arrived just now! Yet, her first words upon his entrance had accused him of making her wait, acting high and mighty.

But if that were the case, then his mother was twisting the truth!

Shen Zhao, seeing Chu Mu’s stunned expression, felt a fleeting satisfaction. How does it feel? The taste of your own mother’s wrath—is it sweet?

She knew the Matron’s true character well—one face for guests, another for the household. When her own family had not yet fallen from grace, the Matron treated her decently enough, at least in public. But once the Shen family was driven from the capital, the old woman’s venom was laid bare.

Shen Zhao set aside her amusement. Now it was her turn to act. She fixed “Shen Zhao” with a frosty, displeased look. “Shen, I did not expect you to be so incorrigible, repeatedly defying Mother’s will. I thought, coming from a noble family, you would be well-versed in rules, virtue, and the conduct of women. Who would have known your nature was so base? From now on, do not expect me to show any leniency for the sake of our marriage. Someone, escort the lady to the ancestral hall—she is to kneel until she admits her fault.”

Chu Mu felt a wave of helplessness—this scene was all too familiar, and he was utterly wronged. He had never felt so powerless, even on the battlefield. He tried to protest.

But his mother interjected softly, “Mu’er, in Buddha’s mercy, Shen is stubborn. She will not admit fault quickly. Kneeling too long may harm her health—why not punish her for three days and nights?”

Three days and nights again. Madam Liu had said his mother had previously locked Shen Zhao’s wet nurse away for three days and nights as well—she had nearly died.

Did his mother not realize such punishment could kill?

Shen Zhao sneered inwardly. No one should think the Matron was acting out of kindness; whenever Chu Mu punished her, he never set a time limit. It was always the Matron, pretending concern, who would specify the duration—never allowing her to rise until time was up. That was how her body had been ruined, kneeling day after day in the cold, damp ancestral hall.

She had spent nearly half the year within those walls.

“Very well,” Shen Zhao answered, “let her kneel for three days and nights, as Mother says. It will temper her spirit.” This, after all, was always Chu Mu’s reply.

Let him experience the chill and the servants’ scorn first-hand. Of course, she would time her return—she had no wish for her body to suffer further in that desolate place.

The Matron looked at Chu Mu with satisfaction. “Mu’er, it’s getting late—you should go to court. I’ll see that Shen eats before she goes to kneel.”

With thoughtful kindness, she urged “Chu Mu” to leave. As Shen Zhao passed by Chu Mu, she gave him a meaningful smile. The real show was about to begin; let the Matron’s darling son savor it well.

No sooner had Shen Zhao departed than the Matron’s expression changed completely. “Why are you still standing there? Hurry and come help me dress and wash.”

Chu Mu could hardly believe what he saw and heard. Hadn’t his mother just said he could eat first?

He remained unmoving. The Matron’s face darkened. “What is wrong with you today, Shen? First you struck Madam Liu, now you stand there like a wooden post. Do you expect me to ‘invite’ you over?”

A thousand emotions churned in Chu Mu’s heart. Was his mother’s resentment toward Shen Zhao so deep? Was that why she acted so out of character? It must be. Now that he was in Shen Zhao’s place, if he served his mother with true devotion, perhaps she would change.

She might not truly hate Shen Zhao—she had simply been misled by scheming servants, and Shen Zhao’s own temperament had made things worse. Yes, it had to be so.

Chu Mu strode forward, but the Matron’s eyes flashed with disgust. “Look at you—what a sight! No lady of a noble house walks with such vulgarity. No wonder Mu’er dislikes you. Can’t you learn from Miss Lin?”

Chu Mu paused. Though Shen Zhao was forthright, she had the bearing of a noblewoman. He had never said he disliked her. As for Miss Lin, her manners were not even a fraction as refined as Shen Zhao’s. If Shen Zhao were to imitate her, it would be a laughingstock.

“Yes, I will remember,” Chu Mu replied patiently. He would try to change his mother’s opinion of Shen Zhao. Perhaps she did not truly dislike her, but had simply been influenced by malicious servants and Shen Zhao’s own unruly nature. That must be it.