The Marquis Mansion's Elite Class-Chapter 367

Isn't it better to let the right person handle the right tasks? Why exhaust the mistress alone—does she have to work herself to death?

Xu Wan scratched her head and flipped the page to continue reading: "Article Six: Selecting clothes, shoes, and accessories for the husband throughout the year… This one seems reasonable." Zong Zhao's wardrobe had always been managed by his mother, but she could try taking over.

"Article Seven…"

"……"

"Article Fourteen: After becoming pregnant, select concubines or maids for the husband…"

Xu Wan had been yawning while reading, casually mocking how miserable the noblewomen in the capital were—until she reached this line. Her heart suddenly clenched.

She lost all interest in flipping further. Closing the handbook, she consoled herself, "Forget it. No one asked me to read this. Teaching the children is much more fun."

She haphazardly stuffed the handbook into a pile of books and pulled out mock exams for the autumn imperial exams instead…

Over the next few days, Zong Zhao sent word that he had business at the military camp outside the capital and told her not to worry. Xu Wan blinked, suspecting he was avoiding her. But since he never said it outright, she couldn’t exactly barge into the camp to confront him, could she?

She stopped dwelling on it and focused on tutoring the children. In her free time, she checked on the little troublemaker to see if his terrible poetry had improved.

On the third day, she received an invitation from Lady Lü, the wife of the Right Censor-in-Chief, to a flower-viewing gathering. With the autumn exams approaching, Xu Wan initially wanted to decline. But considering Yan Suxue had just regained her status and needed to socialize, the two sisters-in-law went together.

The moment they left, the Old Marchioness grew restless. She sent the Old Marquis to the military camp to summon Zong Zhao back.

In the courtyard, the elderly couple sat sternly in their chairs, staring at their towering son.

Zong ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​​‌‍Zhao frowned. "What’s wrong?"

The Old Marchioness, never one for subtlety, cut straight to the point: "Did you quarrel with Xu Wan?"

Zong Zhao: "…No."

The Old Marchioness stood up angrily. "Lies! If not, why aren’t you coming home? The Yan family case is closed, and the military camp doesn’t need you for drills or preparations. What’s your excuse for staying away?"

Zong Zhao glanced at the Old Marquis.

The Old Marquis coughed guiltily. "Your mother is just concerned. That’s why she asked me about the camp. Son, we don’t want to meddle in your marriage, but with your temperament… Our family knows you, but your wife barely knows you. And yet you—"

The word "barely" stung. Zong Zhao fell silent.

The Old Marchioness pressed on, twisting the knife: "Don’t just clam up. Today, while Xu Wan is out, I’m setting this straight. You asked us to arrange this marriage, yet after bringing her home, you neglect her. Jin Cheng’s exams will be over in half a year—what will you do when Xu Wan takes the money and leaves?"

"She only sees me as her husband. She doesn’t love me…" Zong Zhao finally spoke, though his voice was quiet. "I didn’t know what to do, so I stayed at the camp for a few days. But I still haven’t figured it out."

He had planned to take things slow, but Xu Wan’s bluntness about consummating their marriage had shattered the delicate pretense, as if rejecting his feelings. He wasn’t throwing a tantrum—he just didn’t know how to proceed.

The Old Marchioness turned to the Old Marquis. "See? I knew he’d think like this. He’s been this way since childhood—keeping everything bottled up. You might be calm, but do you know what Xu Wan is thinking? For women, ‘calm’ is the worst. Either we spiral into negativity, or we stop caring entirely. When I heard Xu Wan asked you to move back, I was so happy I couldn’t sleep. And what did you do? Ran off the next day! You—"

Her tirade escalated into personal attacks: "I should’ve doubted Jin Cheng was even yours. With your personality, how could you possibly have a son?"

Zong Zhao: "…………"

The Old Marquis shuddered beside her. Compared to this, his wife’s usual scolding was gentle. Poor son…

After thoroughly berating him, the Old Marchioness finally got to the point: "Mother Zhao told me that on the day you left, Xu Wan had her deliver a handbook on serving one’s husband. She’s trying—learning how to be your wife. And what are you doing? Spouting nonsense? Of course she doesn’t love you yet! She barely knows you! If you were in her place, you’d probably do worse."

Zong Zhao looked up, a flicker of realization in his eyes.

The Old Marchioness spelled it out: "Xu Wan grew up differently from you. She’s not as confident and is far more sensitive. When you avoid her, she notices. And she’ll pull away."

On his way back to their quarters, Zong Zhao kept replaying her words—especially the last line.

Clenching his fists, he strode into their room. To his relief, the two quilts still lay side by side on the bed. The daybed he’d once slept on hadn’t been brought back, and the family portrait of the three of them still hung proudly on the wall.

He walked to the desk and pulled out the handbook Xu Wan had read—a thick volume, though only the first few pages showed signs of use. Flipping to where she’d stopped, he found the line about selecting concubines during pregnancy.

His heart ached.

In the guarantee he’d filed at the Ministry of Revenue to reassure her, he’d only promised not to consort with prostitutes—never mentioning abstaining from concubines altogether. Seeing this handbook must have crushed her, reinforcing her resolve to treat him as just a husband.

Thud. He ripped the handbook apart, crumpled it, and hurled it to the ground before storming out. fɾēewebnσveℓ.com

……

At the residence of the Left Censor-in-Chief, the Lü estate…

Xu Wan walked arm-in-arm with Yan Suxue, introducing her to the noblewomen. Thanks to Zong Zhao’s recent ennoblement, the Zong family’s status had soared, making Xu Wan a sought-after figure in the capital.

Though the ladies greeted her politely, their gazes toward Yan Suxue brimmed with poorly concealed curiosity. Whispers swirled:

"That’s Chancellor Yan’s daughter, isn’t it? I heard she was the most sought-after maiden in the capital over a decade ago. She’s still so elegant. What a pity she married the Zong family’s second son—only to become a widow so young."

"Pity? If not for General Zong clearing Chancellor Yan’s name, Yan Suxue would still be hiding in the slums. I heard her family was exiled there, and the Zongs only found her a few years ago."

"Really? And she brought back a son registered as the second branch’s heir? But… is the child really the second young master’s?"

Lady Wei bustled over in a whirlwind manner, knocking aside a gossipy noblewoman with a swing of her arm as she forcefully squeezed her way into the scene to mediate. "Oh dear, sister—Sister Yan, you’ve arrived so late! We’ve been waiting forever, bored to death listening to all these sparrows chirping nonsense."