Chapter Eleven: Huanghuali, Useless Son-in-law!

Qin Residence, grand and imposing, exudes an air of nobility. In all of Dingxing, only a handful of families could rival the Qin household in grandeur. Their status is so prominent that it is difficult for them not to attract attention. Of course, the Zhou family is not lacking either; although their rear courtyard contains only seven residential compounds, behind them lies a Buddhist garden of equal size.

At this moment, the Qin family is gathered together: Duke Qin Ping of Sui, Lady Qin Zheng, the eldest son Qin Weizhong, the second son Qin Weiren, the third son Qin Weitai, and their only daughter, Qin Zhaoning.

“This fellow is just a commoner. You’ve dismissed all the outstanding men of Dingxing, so naturally he’s no exception. Besides, how could a mere nobody be worthy of my sister...” Qin Weizhong recounted the events of Han Fu’s recent visit to the residence, without embellishment or distortion.

Each of the three sons of the Qin family had their own temperament. The eldest was proud, but that did not mean he was foolish. On the contrary, among the noble youths of Dingxing, he was a figure of no small repute.

When Qin Weizhong finished speaking, Qin Zhaoning’s brows furrowed slightly, her calm expression betraying no other emotion. She had just returned from the army, dressed in martial attire, her demeanor carrying an aura of heroism. Even the silver gleaming spear in her hand rested at her side.

“So, in his eyes, I am worth only three coins.” Qin Zhaoning spoke, her voice cool and devoid of warmth.

A woman’s focus is always different. She cared little for who Han Fu was; what had stirred her heart was a certain action and remark of his. He offered a thousand coins, yet took only three, claiming, “It is but a marriage contract—three coins suffice.”

But whose contract was it? It was hers, Qin Zhaoning’s. In other words, in Han Fu’s eyes, she—once the object of pursuit among Dingxing’s noble sons (now cowed by her)—was worth only three coins.

What woman could endure such a slight?

Qin Weiren, gentle and straightforward by nature, could not help but say, “Sister, it was merely a retort after being humiliated. It hardly counts. Besides... aren’t we discussing how Han Fu disrupted the Zhou-Qin marriage alliance and what plans we should make going forward?”

Indeed, Qin Zhaoning had wandered from the topic. Qin Weiren had only brought up the scene to give everyone a clearer impression of Han Fu.

“What else can be done?” Qin Zhaoning replied indifferently, shaking her head. “Should we seek revenge? Not to mention that in three days he will become the Zhou family’s son-in-law. The fact we face today is our own doing; if we hadn’t broken off the engagement, none of this would have happened. As for what comes next, I leave it to Father and my brothers to decide.”

Though a woman, she understood that the foundation of the Xu Dynasty was shaken, and chaos would come, it was only a matter of time. The exact day depended on when Emperor Xiaokang would once again make a reckless move.

Now, all that lingered in Qin Zhaoning’s heart was Han Fu’s remark.

“It’s not as simple as that...” Qin Weizhong, somewhat at a loss, said, “If you hadn’t broken off the engagement, you would have to marry him. Would you be willing?”

“No, I would not,” Qin Zhaoning shook her head.

She knew nothing of his background, and a sudden marriage contract had appeared—of course she was unwilling.

“Well then...” Qin Weizhong halted, abandoning any further argument, and let the matter drop.

Silence settled over the room...

Qin Ping lowered his gaze, allowing his children to speak freely. Beside him, Lady Qin Zheng simply watched quietly.

“Sister, what should we do?” Qin Weitai, who had not spoken until now, finally asked.

“What do you mean, what should we do?” Qin Zhaoning was puzzled.

“That brat Han Fu insulted you so; should I go beat him up for you?” Qin Weitai said, furious, his pair of large bronze hammers swinging in his hands.

Qin Weitai was a son born to a maid, who had passed away when he was three. Thanks to his innate strength, he had been given special attention—once his talent was discovered.

He was simple-minded, spending his days in martial pursuits. Yet, no matter how dull, he remembered who had treated him best before his strength was known. His eldest brother was too proud to pay him any heed. The second brother, though gentle, ignored him as well. Only his sister Qin Zhaoning, though not born of the same mother, cared for him, often asking after his well-being, ensuring he was fed and not bullied by the servants.

Seeing his sister insulted now, how could he not be angry? If Qin Zhaoning nodded, he would storm the Zhou household this instant and beat Han Fu to a pulp.

“This is not your concern.” Qin Zhaoning opened her phoenix eyes, adopting a stern demeanor. “Put away your hammers. You are not in the army but in Dingxing. Temper your spirit. Later, read for an hour before sleeping.”

Strict as a mother, Qin Weitai dared not disobey, though he was reluctant, his face flushing with frustration. Helplessly, he let his left hammer fall to the ground and placed the right one on the table before Qin Ping.

Crack—

The table splintered instantly, startling Qin Ping from his reverie and causing Lady Qin Zheng to jump.

“You fool...” Qin Ping glared, pointing at Qin Weitai, his finger trembling with anger. “This was yellow rosewood, you... you...”

He spluttered, then sat down in defeat, waving his hand. “As for Han Fu, you all know the situation. All the Qin family can do is swallow this bitter pill; the Emperor is watching from the palace. As for the future, we’ll deliberate carefully. Now go.”

“Yes, Father.”

The children bowed and withdrew. Qin Weitai hurried off with his hammers, while Qin Zhaoning pondered when she might meet Han Fu and ask him face to face why he had valued her at only three coins.

Qin Weiren was called back by Qin Ping.

“What instructions do you have, Father?” Qin Weiren asked, bowing.

Qin Ping, still angry, pointed at the fragments of wood, his face stern. “Gather them up and find a craftsman to turn them into bracelets.”

“Yes, Father.”

...

The next day, before dawn, before even the pale light had appeared in the east, Han Fu awoke from his dreams. He dressed neatly and began practicing Tai Chi in the courtyard. As for washing, Bin’er would bring the basin in a while.

A strong body and skill were the foundation of rebellion. Though Han Fu had no intention of fighting personally in the future, it was always reassuring to possess such abilities.

This body had not been well cared for in the past, leaving it rather frail. For now, he trained gently with Tai Chi. He would not attempt more demanding exercises such as military boxing, combat arts, or Brazilian jiu-jitsu for the time being.

Naturally, he must also learn techniques suited for battlefield combat—better to be prepared.

Military boxing, combat arts, and Brazilian jiu-jitsu were fit for lone combat, not for mass skirmishes.

Yesterday, Bai Li Mingda had reminded him that until the wedding, he could not leave the Zhou residence, so he must endure a few days of inconvenience.

He was not troubled by this. It was a good chance to read more and become familiar with everyone in the Zhou household.

After a set of Tai Chi, he was just beginning to sweat. He completed two more sets, beads of sweat rolling down his cheeks.

He adjusted his breathing, expecting Bin’er to arrive soon, and decided to rest.

Yet, after waiting a while, Bin’er did not come. Instead, a child of five or six entered.

Judging by his fine attire, he must be Zhou Qing, eldest grandson of Zhou Xinyi and son of the eldest son, Zhou Yuanshan.

Wasn’t this boy supposed to live in the east courtyard? So early...

Han Fu was puzzled, smiling as he observed Zhou Qing approaching.

When he drew near, Zhou Qing looked up at him and then—

“Bah, son-in-law.”

A mouthful of spit landed on Han Fu’s robe.