Chapter Thirteen: Aunt Song's Advice, Meeting the Lady!

Aunt Song was an optimistic woman, her eyes always smiling. She was busy taking Han Fu’s measurements, from his shoulders to his waist, paying attention to every detail.

Optimists love to talk, and Aunt Song was no exception.

“I used to wonder which talented young man would be fortunate enough to marry Miss Baili,” she said. “Now that I see you, truly a distinguished gentleman. Yesterday, though I wasn’t present at the contest, I heard your poetry outshone all others. You must have made quite a spectacle.”

Han Fu enjoyed conversing with people like her—it let him forget his worries for a moment. He laughed, “But I am merely a son-in-law living with my wife’s family.”

“What of it?” Aunt Song was unimpressed. “We are all people with hard destinies. To be accepted into the Zhou household and marry Miss Baili is your own ability. Besides, it wasn’t originally supposed to be a son-in-law arrangement. It was decreed by His Majesty—a tremendous honor. You should be proud.”

Proud? He had only stolen a few poems, nothing more.

He didn’t argue and smiled, “You’re right. Joining the Zhou family is my good fortune.”

“Brother-in-law, don’t belittle yourself.” Baili Mingda, unable to sit still and far less composed than Ping’er, interjected, “I’ve never looked down on you. To marry you is Ming Su’s blessing.”

“See?” Aunt Song’s smile grew even broader. “With Master Baili as your brother-in-law, your fortune is not shallow.”

Han Fu smiled, still unable to understand Baili Mingda’s peculiar attitude.

“All done.” Aunt Song put away the measuring tape, clapped her hands, and said, “The wedding robe will be ready tomorrow. You can try it on then, and if it doesn’t fit, there’s still time to adjust it.”

“Thank you, Aunt Song.”

Aunt Song waved her hand dismissively. “No thanks needed, young master. This is my duty. But…” She looked at Han Fu meaningfully, “You’ve had a tough life before, not eating or dressing well. Now you’ll marry Miss Baili, an unparalleled beauty. As someone who’s been through this, let me advise you: you’d better start exercising your waist.”

Was she implying something? Did this body have weak kidneys? Or was she worried he’d lose control after marrying such a beauty and his waist wouldn’t keep up?

Optimism had its downsides: unnecessary concern and idle chatter.

Han Fu noticed Baili Mingda’s thoughtful gaze.

Ping’er, meanwhile, was an illiterate, innocent girl, confused by the words. Otherwise, it would have been an unbearably awkward situation.

To be honest, Han Fu felt Aunt Song worried too much.

Aunt Song left with her basket of tools, her joy obvious in her lively stride.

Feeling speechless, Han Fu shook his head and asked Ping’er, “Is Aunt Song always so random in her words?”

“Huh?” Ping’er, puzzled, shook her head crisply, “When measuring the master, madam, or the young ladies and gentlemen, Aunt Song is very reserved and says little.”

So it was because he was a son-in-law, from a humble background, that her caution was set aside.

Han Fu couldn’t help but smile; he quite enjoyed interacting with people this way.

Baili Mingda, looking serious, said at an inappropriate moment, “Brother-in-law, I think Aunt Song is right. You and Ming Su are about to marry, and with Ping’er and Lian’er joining as dowry maids, there will be more women in the future. It’s good to exercise your waist. Honestly, divination and medicine are connected—I've studied medicine a bit. I can prepare some remedies…”

Baili Mingda had mentioned Lian’er yesterday, but what was all this about?

Han Fu couldn’t resist any longer. “Madam is waiting for me. Ping’er, show me the way.”

“Oh, yes, please follow me, young master.” Ping’er hurried to lead the way.

“Hey, brother-in-law…” Baili Mingda called after him, unwilling to let go.

“Would you like to come along?” Han Fu turned back.

“No!” Baili Mingda shook his head frantically, his face full of fear.

How terrifying must this madam be… Han Fu sighed inwardly, hoping Baili Mingda would reveal a bit more. He asked, “Do you have anything else to say?”

Baili Mingda frowned, thought for a moment, and said seriously, “There’s something I wanted to tell you yesterday.”

Han Fu was surprised; they’d only just met—what was there to say?

Baili Mingda stepped forward, grabbed Han Fu’s hands, and declared solemnly, “If you gain wealth, do not forget me.”

Completely irrelevant.

Han Fu was disappointed not to hear what he hoped for. At the same time, he was puzzled.

This future brother-in-law excelled at divination and face-reading; perhaps he had seen something?

It was worth noting that, though Baili Mingda had been raised by his uncle since childhood, he held a genuine inherited title.

What could make a hereditary noble so earnest?

Indeed, Baili Mingda was also a duke; after the marriage, he could establish his own household.

Of course, this was inherited from his father.

There were over twenty dukes in Xu Dynasty, with even more lesser titles beneath, but since Emperor Xiaokang ascended the throne, granting titles had become extraordinarily difficult.

Emperor Xiaokang deliberately suppressed the aristocracy, not allowing new nobles to emerge—understandable.

“Mm.” Han Fu nodded casually and followed Ping’er away.

“The wind was strong last night, and many crabapple fruits fell. I’ll ask someone to sweep them up later,” Ping’er remarked as they passed the crabapple tree.

“Alright.” Han Fu nodded, saying no more.

Passing through an archway and leaving the small courtyard, the two turned eastward.

The lady’s maiden surname was Wang, formally known as Lady Zhou Wang, but no one in the Zhou household dared call her that.

Lady Zhou Wang was a devout Buddhist, reciting scriptures and worshipping in the Buddha Garden during the day.

There was only one road to the Buddha Garden.

Passing through the main courtyard where Zhou Xinyi resided, and crossing another archway, they would arrive.

The Buddha Garden covered a vast area, but was not luxurious—just a few old houses renovated.

To the east was the Arhat Pavilion, to the west the Bodhisattva Tower, and the central hall enshrined the Buddha.

On the way, they encountered some servants, all of whom greeted Ping’er; none spoke to Han Fu, though they eyed him curiously.

Han Fu cared little; it was natural for servants to react this way to a newcomer.

At this moment, he was considering how to coax information about the lady from Ping’er.

But just as he was about to speak, he changed his mind.

“Ping’er, Master Baili says he’s skilled at divination and face-reading. I wonder how good he really is?”

Time was short, and he couldn’t think of a way to get useful information about the lady. Better to start by learning more about Baili Mingda.

Ping’er was not a shy girl, but rather cheerful beneath her bashfulness.

Yet with Han Fu, she felt nervous, and the reason… wasn’t it Baili Mingda’s loose tongue? Saying things like she was a chamber maid, that Han Fu could visit her room when Miss was unavailable, and telling her to start calling Han Fu her husband…

Such words, to a fifteen-year-old girl just blooming, were like wolves and tigers.

Moreover, she already liked Han Fu.

Thus, now, interacting with Han Fu, Ping’er felt somewhat awkward, but could only brace herself.

When Han Fu spoke, as a maid, not responding would be rude.

And since he was asking about Baili Mingda’s divination, she remembered past events and laughed, covering her mouth.

“Master Baili?” Ping’er smiled and replied, “His divination is quite remarkable.”

Han Fu thought to himself, as expected—there was a reason for Baili Mingda’s enthusiasm.