Her hair was silky and beautiful, catching the early morning light, falling in waves almost to her waist.
In this culture and ti period, a married woman showing her loose hair to anyone except her husband was considered extrely inappropriate—almost scandalous.
And here was Heena, the new young mistress, standing in a shared courtyard with her hair completely uncovered and loose, wearing only nightclothes, looking directly at her father-in-law without any sign of sha or modesty.
The old Master’s eyes were fixed on her hair, on her figure in the thin nightclothes, on her face now that it wasn’t hidden by servant’s dirt and exhaustion.
His expression shifted from shock to sothing else—sothing hungry and inappropriate that made Heena’s skin crawl with disgust.
’Even now,’ she thought with cold fury. ’Even after I’ve married his son. This disgusting old man is STILL looking at like that.’
Maya, seeing where her husband’s attention had gone, felt her rage intensify even further.
But she couldn’t directly accuse Heena of impropriety without making herself look jealous and petty.
So instead, she just cried harder, making pitiful sobbing sounds, clearly trying to recapture her husband’s attention.
Heena looked at both of them—the crying Maya, the staring old Master—and felt absolutely no guilt or concern whatsoever.
’Let them both suffer,’ she thought with cold satisfaction.
’They wanted to destroy when I was a powerless servant. Now I’m the young master’s legal wife, and there’s very little they can do to without creating a major household scandal.’
’Welco to the new power structure, you fools.’
She smiled sweetly at both of them and said, "Is there anything else you need, ’Mother’? ’Father’? Or may I return to my room to properly dress for the day?"
The way she said "Father" while looking directly at the old Master made it absolutely clear: ’I belong to your son now. Not to you. You lost.’
And judging by the old Master’s expression—a mixture of frustration, anger, and thwarted desire—he understood the ssage perfectly.
Heena turned and walked back to her room, her loose hair swaying behind her, deliberately taking her ti.
Let them stare. Let them rage. Let them suffer.
She was just getting started.
As Heena walked back toward her room, she could feel both pairs of eyes burning into her back—Maya’s filled with venomous hatred, the old Master’s filled with that disgusting hunger that made her want to scrub her skin raw.
But she maintained her leisurely pace, her loose hair swaying with each step, refusing to show even a hint of discomfort or sha.
Just as she reached her door, another voice called out from across the courtyard.
"Well, well. What an interesting morning scene."
Heena turned to see Samuel approaching, fully dressed in his scholar’s robes, his expression unreadable as he took in the tableau: his sobbing stepmother, his stunned father, and his inappropriately dressed wife standing in the courtyard for all to see.
He walked directly to Heena and, without warning, removed his outer robe and draped it over her shoulders, covering her nightclothes.
"Wife," he said, his voice carrying clearly across the courtyard for everyone to hear, "perhaps you’re not yet familiar with the proper customs of this household. Married won typically dress fully before appearing in shared spaces."
His words were a reprimand, but his tone was mild—more instructive than angry.
Heena looked at him, reading the ssage in his eyes: ’Play along. Give them nothing to use against us.’
She bowed her head slightly, the picture of a chastised young bride. "Of course, husband. Forgive . I heard shouting and thought there was an ergency, so I rushed out without thinking."
Samuel nodded, then turned to face his father and stepmother, his arm moving to rest possessively on Heena’s shoulder—a clear statent of ownership and protection.
"Father. Stepmother. Is there a problem that requires such early morning disturbance?"
The old Master seed to shake himself out of his trance, his face reddening with a mixture of embarrassnt and anger at being caught staring so obviously.
"Your wife," he said, his voice rough, "should learn proper household deportnt. This kind of behavior is—"
"Will be corrected," Samuel interrupted smoothly. "As I said, she’s still learning our ways. I’m sure you rember how my mother needed ti to adjust when she first married into this household as well."
The ntion of Samuel’s mother—the old Master’s first wife—created an uncomfortable silence.
Maya, seeing that her crying performance was no longer the center of attention, wiped her tears and said in a trembling voice, "The water hasn’t been fetched. The household morning routines are disrupted. I was simply trying to maintain order when I was disrespected by—"
"By my wife," Samuel finished calmly. "Who is no longer a servant, as you’re well aware, Stepmother. If the water hasn’t been fetched, perhaps Father should hire the replacent servants that have been needed since Granny Wang’s injury?"
He looked at his father pointedly. "After all, surely the household finances can afford at least one or two servants to handle basic tasks? Unless there’s so financial difficulty I should be aware of?"
This was a direct challenge. If the old Master admitted they couldn’t afford servants, he’d lose face by revealing the household’s declining fortunes. But if he claid they could afford it, he’d be forced to actually hire soone.
The old Master’s jaw tightened. "The household finances are none of your concern, boy. When you’re running your own independent ho, then you can worry about such matters."
"Of course, Father," Samuel said with a slight smile. "I simply thought, since my wife was apparently expected to continue servant duties despite her change in status, that perhaps I’d misunderstood the household’s financial situation."
Another pointed barb, delivered with perfect politeness.
Maya looked between father and son, clearly recognizing that she was losing control of this confrontation. She opened her mouth to say sothing, but the old Master cut her off.
"Enough. This is ridiculous. I have business to attend to." He turned to Maya. "Co. We’re leaving."
But Maya wasn’t finished. She looked directly at Heena and said, her voice dripping with false sweetness, "I do hope the young mistress will join us for the morning al. As the newest mber of our family, it’s important that she learn proper household etiquette and routines."
It was a trap, and everyone knew it.
If Heena refused, she’d look disrespectful and unwilling to fulfill her duties as the young master’s wife.
If she accepted, she’d be placing herself under Maya’s authority and supervision during the al—giving Maya the opportunity to criticize, belittle, and "instruct" her in front of the entire household.
Before Heena could respond, Samuel spoke up.
"Unfortunately, my wife and I will be taking our morning al privately today. We have much to discuss regarding our new household arrangents."
He smiled at Maya with perfect courtesy.
"I’m sure you understand, Stepmother. Newly married couples require so private ti to adjust to their new circumstances. We’ll join the family als starting tomorrow."
Maya’s expression flickered with frustration, but she couldn’t argue against such a reasonable statent without looking petty.
"Of course," she said through gritted teeth. "How thoughtful of you to consider your wife’s... adjustnt period."
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