Chapter 39: It Felt Like Someone Kicked Me on the Road
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Du Zi Heng had thought that by sticking up for Yu Zhi Yi, she might at least give him a smile, maybe even look a little grateful.
Instead, she looked at him as if he were a thief.
“…”
Yu Zhi Yi glanced away, muttering, “Who could possibly find a story that scary to be touching?”
“S-scary?” someone echoed, sounding confused.
Yu Jiao Jiao jumped in, her voice dripping with annoyance. “Sister, how could you say that? It’s obviously a story about love and happiness! Just because you’re unlucky in life doesn’t mean you should judge others like that.”
Yu Zhi Yi ignored her. Instead, she looked around at the noblewomen gathered nearby. “You all admire the heroine of that story so much, right? Fine then, let me ask you this: if you had daughters, would you let them marry a poor boy like that?
“If your daughter wanted to cut ties with you for him, would you still smile and support her? Would you be moved by their so-called ‘beautiful’ love story?”
The room fell into an uneasy silence.
One woman imagined herself in that situation and immediately felt suffocated. She blurted out, “No way! If some poor boy dared take my daughter away, I’d beat him senseless!”
Realizing she’d said that a bit too openly, she glanced around, embarrassed.
The other noblewomen avoided her gaze. They were uncomfortable, but none of them would laugh at her. After all, she had voiced exactly what many of them were secretly thinking. But none of them seemed eager to agree with Yu Zhi Yi either.
Du Zi Heng, meanwhile, felt like he’d been kicked, completely out of nowhere. Sure, he wasn’t anyone’s daughter, but still…
The awkward silence hung heavily in the room, and Yu Jiao Jiao looked like she was ready to bite her lip clean off in frustration. “Marrying a poor boy is risky, of course. Most parents would hesitate—that’s understandable. But still, in the end, they ended up happy, didn’t they? He became a top scholar, and she became the wife of a high-ranking official—”
Yu Zhi Yi cut her off sharply. “She was tormented by his family until she died, and only then was she honored as some ‘high-ranking lady.’ If you want that kind of glory, you’re welcome to it.”
The story in question was a typical one—full of male fantasies and overly dramatic twists.
A girl from a wealthy family fell in love with a poor boy, and of course, her parents were strongly against it. On the other hand, the boy’s family was thrilled to have her.
Still, the girl’s parents refused to approve of the match. They even threatened that if she continued seeing the boy, they’d make sure his family wouldn’t be able to stay in the town.
So, the boy’s family packed up and moved a hundred miles away—taking the girl with them. The couple got married, without parental blessings, without a matchmaker, without anything.
The girl brought no dowry, and the boy’s family had nothing. Going from wealth to poverty was a shock she struggled to cope with, and she used all the money she had brought just to get by.
It took the poor boy ten years to pass the imperial exams and finally become a top scholar.
By then, the girl had used up everything—even her jewelry and fine clothes. The once-pampered young lady was now just a tired, struggling wife.
With time, the boy’s mother turned into a demanding mother-in-law. The girl, who used to have servants at her beck and call, now had to serve her mother-in-law, take care of her sister-in-law, and do all the household chores. The burdens of an entire household rested on her frail shoulders. She—once a beloved young lady—had become nothing but a weary housewife.
When her husband finally achieved success, she did become the wife of a high-ranking scholar. But she didn’t get to enjoy it for long—her health gave out, and she died.
Not long after her death, the husband married the Chancellor’s daughter, who had recently divorced. He became the Chancellor’s treasured son-in-law.
It was a melodramatic story, and in a way, it was realistic too. Yet, people praised it for the “beauty” and “depth” of their love.
Depth? Ha!
The depth was all on the woman’s side. As was the beauty.
This so-called love was just a terrifying tale of a man draining a wealthy woman until she had nothing left. Once she had nothing more to give, he simply moved on.
Yu Zhi Yi didn’t hold back, ripping the story apart. “Love that crosses social classes is indeed precious. But what’s truly precious is the courage. Whether or not the rest is worth celebrating depends on whether the people involved are worthy of that love.”
Du Zi Heng was intrigued. “So, what kind of person do you think is worthy?”
“If I were that girl, or her mother, I’d first consider the boy’s character before marrying down or letting my daughter do so,” Yu Zhi Yi replied.
“A boy who grew up poor, if he’s truly virtuous, would understand how hard it is for his parents. He’d help them however he could, even while studying, to ease their burden.
“A real gentleman isn’t just someone who avoids the kitchen, as they say.”
She looked directly at Du Zi Heng, her eyes piercing. “A true gentleman is loyal to his country, wise in his decisions, and devoted to his family. He shares their struggles, cherishes his wife, treats her well, and loves his children by being a good role model. He doesn’t waste his parents’ hard-earned money while pretending to be focused on studying.
“Nor does he expect his wife to care for his parents while he stands by. A real gentleman shares that responsibility.
“Many men, when they marry, say, ‘My mother raised me alone, so you must treat her well after we marry.’ It’s laughable.
“His mother’s hardships weren’t caused by the new wife; they were because she had an unloving husband and a son who wouldn’t share her burden. He took all of his mother’s love, but then expects his wife to take care of her? It’s absurd!”
Yu Zhi Yi’s eyes were so clear, yet they seemed to see right through people. Du Zi Heng shifted uncomfortably. He quickly searched his memory: had he ever said anything like that to Yu Zhi Yi since she had entered his household?
The good news—he hadn’t.
The bad news—he’d said even worse things.
He suddenly wished the ground would swallow him up.
The noblewomen were stunned by Yu Zhi Yi’s unconventional views.
Thanks to efforts by Princess Jia Luo and countless other extraordinary women, the way women thought in the Dasheng Empire had changed from what it had been a hundred years ago.
Still, they were somewhat confined by tradition.
Yu Zhi Yi’s words were like a wake-up call, offering a whole new perspective on relationships.
The noblewomen began to question whether the rules they’d been following all their lives were truly the right ones.
Some of them, those who had always felt a bit rebellious, looked particularly bright-eyed.
But Yu Zhi Yi, seeing their stunned faces, suddenly looked sheepish. “Oh dear, I was just speaking off the top of my head. You shouldn’t take it so seriously. If you find that love story beautiful, go ahead and give it a try.
“But I do have one piece of advice—falling from wealth into poverty only takes a love-struck heart. For your children to rise from poverty to wealth, it might take their entire lives—and even then, they might not succeed.
“After all, not every poor boy grows up to be a top scholar.”
At that moment, the second master embroiderer took the stage.
But the audience was still too caught up in their shaken worldviews to care much about the next garment.
That is, until the fifth one.
This time, it was the most famous master embroiderer of the Splendid Embroidery Workshop.
Yu Zhi Yi’s eyes wandered beyond the embroiderer, catching sight of Hong Luan peeking from behind a door in the distance, a bright smile on her face.