Steal my marriage? Turn around and marry the tyrant to take the throne

The palace maid smiled and said, "Once there are financial transactions, or private exchanges of messages and items, the thread is tied!"

"At that time, whether it will be ordinary exchanges or clandestine dealings will be beyond the judgment of the Shen family's illegitimate son!"

Su Qing nodded slightly: "That's exactly right."

"The vanity, greed, and defiance of young people are the best entry points."

"Remember, make sure it looks natural."

The palace maid bowed deeply: "Yes, this servant will remember. The Xia family and the Shen family will be arranged properly."

Su Qing turned around, her eyes as cold as frost.

Shen Zhinian... Imperial Noble Consort.

Now that she resides in Yongshou Palace, carrying the emperor's child, and enjoys the emperor's favor, does she think she can sit back and relax all her worries?

The Imperial Noble Consort was wary of Consort Zhuang, Consort Mei, and all the open and covert attacks within the harem.

But has she ever considered that the most deadly knife sometimes comes not from the woman vying for favor in front of her, but from the maternal family she relies on?

The embankment of a thousand miles collapsed in the ant nest.

The illegitimate son of the Shen family was the crack he had chosen!

Then we'll see if the esteemed Imperial Noble Consort will still be able to smile.

……

Shen House.

Shen Zhiqin's study.

He held a copy of the Book of Rites in his hand. The densely packed characters on it looked like a swarm of tiny black ants, waving around in front of his eyes, but they just couldn't get into his head.

Shen Zhiqin stared at one of the lines for almost half an hour.

He recognized each character individually, and he roughly understood the meaning when they were put together.

After all, the gentleman had said it.

But if you asked Shen Zhiqin to explain the deeper meaning or offer any unique insights, his mind would go completely blank...

"boom!"

Shen Zhiqin slammed the book shut in frustration and tossed it onto the desk.

Since his stepmother was diagnosed with pregnancy and her pregnancy became increasingly noticeable, the smile on his father's face grew wider day by day.

Throughout the household, from the steward to the lowly maids, everyone spoke with cautious flattery when the mistress's pregnancy was mentioned.

In the past, Aunt Shen always told Shen Zhiqin, "Master only has three sons, and you are the first one. There is an order of seniority. If the Shen family business is not passed on to you, who will it be passed on to? Your younger brothers all need your help."

"Even if the mistress gives birth to a legitimate son in the future, so what? You have the title of 'eldest son' and started school early. As long as you are promising, how could the master not value you?"

At that time, although Shen Zhiqin was not good at his studies, he always held a glimmer of hope in his heart.

He's the eldest son!

But now... that hope...

Shen Zhiqin really wanted to prove himself.

He knew he wasn't smart, at least not as smart as his second sister.

But my aunt said that a real man doesn't need to study those delicate, ladylike poems. As long as he studies hard, masters the Four Books and Five Classics, passes the imperial examinations, and brings honor to his ancestors!

Shen Zhiqin believed it and really worked harder than before.

He rose at cockcrow and rested late into the night, completing every word of the homework assigned by his teacher, and also finding many collections of literature to read on his own.

But those words seemed to have a grudge against him; he would forget them as soon as he read them, and they were even more difficult to understand...

Among my classmates, some could turn laughter and anger into literary works, while others had unique insights that earned them praise from the teacher.

He was the only one who always sat silently in the corner, answering questions in a conventional and uninteresting manner.

In the most recent ten-day examination, his essay was criticized by his teacher as "stale and lacking in originality, merely having the form but not the substance".

He secretly crumpled the page and threw it into the stinking ditch, but he still felt extremely frustrated.

Shen Zhiqin wanted to prove to his father that he was not entirely useless.

The more I tried to prove it, the drier my writing became...

"Ugh……"

He let out a long sigh.

The study was quiet, like a cage, making him feel suffocated.

He needs to get some fresh air.

Shen Zhiqin went out.

The "Hanmolin" bookstore in the south of the city is a place he has been frequenting lately.

It's not that the books here are exceptionally good compared to others. Rather, it's because it's a bit far from home, the environment is quiet, and the shopkeeper is a kind middle-aged man.

More importantly, he occasionally meets a few like-minded peers here.

Today is my ten-day break, and Shen Zhiqin has strolled here again.

As soon as he entered, he heard a cheerful voice greet him: "Brother Shen, you've come at just the right time!"

Shen Zhiqin looked up and saw two boys sitting at a long table by the window of the bookstore.

The boy who called out to him was wearing a royal blue robe; his surname was Zhao and his given name was Wenxuan.

His father was a scholar at the Imperial Academy, and he came from a family with a long tradition of learning. He himself was also quite talented, but he did not have the arrogance of a talented person and was warm and friendly to others.

The man next to him, wearing a slightly worn blue robe and with a thinner face, was surnamed Sun and named Mingyuan.

He doesn't talk much, but when he does speak, his insights often offer fresh perspectives that are refreshing to Shen Zhiqin.

They became acquainted after meeting several times here and discussing a certain collection of poems.

Zhao Wenxuan was erudite and had a remarkable memory, while Sun Mingyuan was insightful. Although Shen Zhiqin admitted that he was not as learned as Zhao Wenxuan, he was steady in nature, listened attentively, and occasionally chimed in with a few words.

The three of them gradually became friends who could drink tea and discuss books together.

"Brother Zhao, Brother Sun."

Shen Zhiqin walked over, a smile unconsciously appearing on his face.

Here, he is not the disappointing eldest son of the Shen family, but Shen Zhiqin, a scholar with whom one can have an equal conversation.

"Please sit down, please sit down."

Zhao Wenxuan pushed a cup of tea over: "It just so happens that Mingyuan has recently acquired a travelogue of landscapes by an anonymous author from the previous dynasty. The writing style is ethereal and the sentiment is extraordinary, quite different from the ordinary style. I'm waiting for you to come and appreciate it together."

Sun Mingyuan took out a handwritten copy from his sleeve. The paper was slightly yellowed and the handwriting was elegant.

Shen Zhiqin took it and carefully looked through it.

The text's descriptions of misty peaks and valleys, seas of clouds and pine forests truly break free from the usual conventions of travelogues that merely pile up flowery language, adding a touch of otherworldly charm.

He was so engrossed in reading that he temporarily forgot the boredom brought on by the Book of Rites.

Sun Ming asked expectantly, "Brother Shen, how is it?"

"it is good!"

Shen Zhiqin sincerely praised, "Not bound by material things, but expressing one's true feelings directly—this artistic conception is rare!"

"'Rain beats against the empty forest, all is silent, only a single lamp in the heart remains, illuminating all who come and go.' This saying is so insightful! Life is like a journey, who isn't just a fleeting passerby?"

Zhao Wenxuan clapped his hands and laughed, "Brother Shen, your words hit the nail on the head!"

“Mingyuan also said that this scroll is a bit too aloof and might not be to everyone’s liking. I think Brother Shen understands.”

Sun Mingyuan nodded slightly, a faint smile appearing on his thin face: "True friends are hard to find, Brother Shen is one!"

This recognition warmed Shen Zhiqin's heart.

See, he is not the completely ignorant and tasteless person his father thought he was.

The three of them started chatting again, using the travelogue as a guide. They talked about everything from landscapes to poetry and prose, and then to reclusive scholars throughout history, occasionally venting their frustrations about contemporary literature.

Zhao Wenxuan was well-informed and talked about the examiner's preferences.

Sun Mingyuan then analyzed the strengths and weaknesses of several recent model essays.

Shen Zhiqin mostly listened, occasionally interjecting, and found that his thoughts were much clearer than when he was studying alone.

"...If you ask me, you can't always be buried in piles of paper when you're reading."

Zhao Wenxuan took a sip of tea and smiled, "You need to have some other interests, otherwise you'll get bored reading too much."