The Good Concubine of the Qing Dynasty [Red Mansion]

One after another, Lin Zheng and Lin Xiao were also engaged. These matters didn’t require the old lady to worry; their parents would handle the arrangements.

However, it was inevitable that while they now had more options compared to before, their choices were also limited. The Lin family was now closely tied to the Fourth Prince, which meant they needed to keep a distance from the Eldest Prince’s faction.

Similarly, under the old lady’s directive, they had to avoid the Crown Prince’s party as well.

The old lady was adamant about not allowing her people to be associated with the Crown Prince unless absolutely necessary. However, given the status of their advisors, it wasn’t likely that those high-ranking individuals would take much notice of them.

As for her eldest granddaughter’s marriage, she was unsure what her son was thinking. Many people inquired about it, but the old lady deflected by saying that her father had his own opinions and that she couldn’t make the decision.

There were indeed some families she thought highly of, including several prominent Manchu families known for their harmonious marriages.

Did her son really have a suitable match in mind?

Or was he simply making excuses?

With the importance of hierarchy, the eldest granddaughter’s marriage could not be delayed.

Watching the young ladies who had been studying and keeping her daughter company in the Lin household gradually get engaged, Concubine Mei felt anxious.

It wasn’t just the outside pressure; she was urging things along herself.

A secondary consort could never compare to a primary wife.

There would always be a primary wife overshadowing her, and her daughter would definitely marry as the legitimate spouse.

This was a crucial time for her daughter; the decision about her lifelong happiness would determine whether she could hold her head high in front of her younger sister and even feel a sense of pride.

How could Concubine Mei not care?

Her anxiety affected Yingyu as well.

What she feared wasn’t anything else but the thought that if things were really settled, her daughter would be leaving.

The mere possibility made Yingyu panic, feeling anxious inside.

She didn’t want to leave yet, but she couldn’t speak of this to her aunt, who would just call her foolish.

So, she went to talk to her second sister instead.

The two of them were quite similar.

Although their father had set her second sister’s wedding date for the last auspicious day of the year, it wasn’t happening so soon, but ultimately, it wasn’t far off.

Watching her second sister follow Aunt Yun around every day, Yingyu could tell she was also anxious. She felt a bit downcast—why did daughters have to get married?

Wasn’t it possible not to marry?

No one needed to answer that; Yingyu could provide the answer herself.

It was possible not to marry, but it would affect her sisters and the next generation of daughters in their family. It would become fodder for gossip, leading to pointing fingers and scorn from others.

Unmarried daughters were seen as outcasts.

People would say not to fear public opinion, but how many could actually do that?

Yingyu recognized she couldn’t.

Moreover, reaching marriageable age without marrying meant being assigned to a man according to the law, which was even worse.

Yingyu didn’t think she needed to marry someone with an exceptionally high status; she simply hoped her partner would have character similar to her father’s. Other factors didn’t matter as much to her.

Luoyu, on the other hand, didn’t share such concerns since her engagement was already set with the Fourth Prince. Her worries lay in whether she could live well in the Fourth Prince’s residence and how inconvenient it would be to see her family afterward.

The first issue could be managed through her own efforts, but the second had to follow established rules.

Despite their anxiety, the two sisters didn’t forget their responsibilities.

They still needed to manage household affairs alongside their younger sister, as their grandmother was currently too busy to help with these matters.

Luoyu also needed to inventory her dowry.

She felt her experience was quite rare—who else’s daughter would handle her own dowry? It wasn’t as if there were no one else in the family.

What she needed to inventory wasn’t just any dowry, but the one her concubine mother had prepared for her.

Since she turned ten, her mother had given her and her brother some properties to manage themselves.

The mother no longer intervened unless they asked for advice; otherwise, she wouldn’t inquire, allowing them complete autonomy.

Under their management, some businesses suffered losses while others turned a profit. After so long, they had become quite skilled at it; if a shop was losing money, they could usually deduce the reasons just by examining the accounts.

But now, as she was taking stock—accounting for what had been given to her previously and what her concubine mother was giving her now—she was shocked. The dowry her concubine mother provided was much more than she had anticipated.

While she knew her mother was wealthy, she hadn’t expected such extravagance!

The items her mother provided included a few farms and shops, most of which would be disposed of when they followed their father’s reassignment; what remained were the best portions.

Upon arriving in the capital, it was difficult to buy large estates, so she received houses and shops instead.

Adding in the jewelry accumulated over the years and the substantial amount of silver her concubine mother had saved for her, a rough estimate revealed that her concubine mother’s gifts amounted to about three hundred thousand taels.

The list prepared by the Lin family wasn’t finalized yet, so it couldn’t be estimated.

When Luoyu calculated the amount, she was shocked—did her mother give her all her wealth?

She asked her mother.

Yun Shuyao replied, “You’re being silly. Both of you have your share. I know what I’m doing; just take what I give you and live well.”

Yun Shuyao didn’t want to prepare estates in the capital for her daughter, but it wasn’t something she could simply buy whenever she wanted. At most, she could find a few small farms. To buy a large estate, it would require a family to commit a crime and have their property confiscated, allowing those lands to re-enter the market. Only then would others have a chance to buy good estates.

Right now… no one had committed any crimes, so there was naturally no opportunity.

After the imperial decree came down, Yun Shuyao had already started preparing her daughter’s dowry. She didn’t require much in terms of estates—just a suitable one, even if it was smaller.

But after searching, those options were too small, while the larger ones were too far away.

As for the silly question her daughter asked, she had already prepared the wedding silver for both children.

The amount for the siblings would be the same, but in reality, her daughter would receive a bit more.

As for the estates, it was the old lady who gave one of the Lin family’s estates to Luoyu. Even for the Lin family, such estates were scarce.

Most external affairs were handled by Chenyu, who had become so busy that he had lost weight, despite eating well. The demands on his mental energy were immense.

He had to entertain old friends and deal with the Ministry of Internal Affairs.

Marrying a side concubine came with lower standards than marrying a primary wife, and there was a lot to manage in this regard.

After some disputes with the Ministry of Internal Affairs, he felt he had matured. He also had interactions with the Fourth Prince, who wasn’t as unapproachable as rumored. Chenyu wondered if he was an exception, but generally, those who had a good relationship with their family were satisfied after just a few questions, and many even wanted to act as matchmakers for him.

He wasn’t worried about his own marriage yet; he just didn’t know which family his father would betroth his eldest sister to.

Lin Ruohai indeed had a promising son-in-law in mind. Since his children were about eleven or twelve, he had been observing suitable candidates, always preparing for the future.

Initially, his list of candidates was long, but gradually, he crossed off many names, leaving only a few families remaining.

After receiving the imperial decree, he was now aligned with the Fourth Prince, which reassured him, as it seemed the Fourth Prince had no intention of competing for the throne.

He was still a royalist at heart.

Before long, Yingyu’s marriage was settled; she was betrothed to Dachun, the third son of the governor of Fengtian Prefecture, and his legitimate son.

Lin Ruohai had previously traveled to Fengtian Prefecture on an imperial mission.

After exchanging marriage documents, the old lady quickly spread the news to prevent further inquiries.

In terms of background, Dachun belonged to the Manchu Xianglan Banner, from the prominent Xilin Jueluo family. He was a descendant of the brother of the legitimate wife of the Batulu Prince Lidun, making him a highly respectable match.

When the matriarch received the marriage document, she sent someone to gather more information. The letter from her son contained some details about the groom’s family, but not enough.

Upon further inquiry, she learned that the governor and his wife, from the Guaerjia clan, shared a deep bond and had four sons and two daughters, with the third son, Dachun, being the legitimate second son. The other son and two daughters were from two concubines.

These were the only women in his household.

Although his family held official positions, there were previous dealings with Dachun.

The matriarch found out that he was a clever and good-natured boy.

Moreover, her son had personally assessed Dachun before.

This reassured the old lady.

Concubine Mei naturally learned of this too.

Xilin Jueluo?

Indeed, their status was not low, and he was a legitimate son.

However, one sister was marrying into a third-rank official’s family, while the other was promised to the Fourth Prince, which left Concubine Mei feeling somewhat dissatisfied, but there was nothing she could do.

Just like when the old lady wanted her daughter to present herself with poise during the selection process, masking her own strengths; if it weren’t for the fact that Luoyu was in the same situation, she would have protested.

Otherwise, with her daughter’s looks, she could have easily entered the palace.

Now, she didn’t dare to cause a scene, fearing it might jeopardize the engagement. Although it couldn’t compare to her sister’s prominent match, she knew Yingyu would no longer have a chance to marry a prince.

The old nanny reminded her, “Madam, the eldest young lady’s marriage has been settled. Shouldn’t you help look into her wedding gown?”

Concubine Mei’s spirit perked up: “And the dowry!”

For a woman getting married, there are three essential supports.

One is her natal family.

The second is offspring.

The third is the dowry.

Her daughter’s dowry, while not as grand as Daiyu’s—who was the legitimate daughter and had a full set of dowry from Jia Min—should be at least slightly higher than Luoyu’s.

Even though she would be entering a royal residence and the standards would be higher, it shouldn’t be too much!

—

After Lin Ruhai arrived in Yangzhou, he spent some time understanding the complex relationships here. This place has always been prosperous, with its people living in peace and many families thriving.

These families intermarried, forming a vast network of power. When they united, even officials could easily be deceived by them.

The previous governor was rightly dismissed by the emperor; he likely came here wanting to accomplish something, but ultimately he fell for their sweet talk and was undone by the belly of the thin horse they sent from Yangzhou.

The key is to divide and conquer. With this thought, Lin Ruhai gradually formed a plan.

As long as he controlled the salt quota, there was no way they could force him to relinquish it, no matter how anxious they became.

Were there really no other salt merchants looking to rise in status? Had no feuds ever occurred among families?

Even if they all had the same backer, they wouldn’t be entirely united…

There were two reasons why Kangxi sent Lin Ruhai to Yangzhou.

One was Lin Ruhai’s noble background; he wouldn’t be tempted by silver and was loyal to his duties, which meant he wouldn’t be corrupt upon taking office.

The second reason was his extensive network of connections.

He hailed from Suzhou, and his maternal family, the Xie family, also originated from Suzhou. His wife’s family was one of the four prominent families in Jinling, the Jia family, who had good relations with the Zhen family. When he arrived in Yangzhou, he could easily integrate in without facing immediate suspicion or exclusion from the local officials and merchants.

Moreover, Kangxi had done a thorough investigation. The experiences of the Lin father and son made him suspicious—was it possible that his own son was starting to lose control? Otherwise, how could anyone have the ability to keep him from uncovering any clues?

—

Yun Shuyou had her own thoughts but couldn’t leave for Yangzhou. She needed to assist the old lady with her daughter’s wedding arrangements in the capital, which she also didn’t want to leave.

She used coarse salt at home to create brine, attempting to replicate the refining process.

She couldn’t do it alone, so with many maids around, they brainstormed together.

There was no need to sun-dry; she directly boiled it over a fire. As long as it produced results, they could later experiment to find the most efficient methods in terms of labor and resources.

Luoyu followed her aunt, initially confused, until she watched the coarse salt become whiter and less bitter, finally transforming into pure white salt.

Moreover, her aunt made a leap of logic, using ordinary wine to refine high-concentration spirits, saying it could be used for treating wounds on the battlefield, reducing soldier casualties.

Luo Yu: ?

She couldn’t comprehend; how did her aunt come up with this?! Both of these methods could bring them immense wealth!

But Yun Shuyou’s goal wasn’t to seek riches.

Thus, Yun Chang and the people from the Lin residence hurriedly set off for Yangzhou with a thick letter in hand.