Chapter 80 Voyage: Wife or Concubine.

Chapter 80: Going to Sea: Wife or Concubine.

In the past, Xian Qiu had asked similar questions, and each time Xie Tanwei's answer was affirmative. She asked repeatedly because his attitude was too elusive, leaving her with a profound sense of insecurity. Making him promise over and over seemed to let her hold onto him.

Xie Tanwei indeed quickly replied, "You."

Concise, devoid of emotion.

Xian Qiu received this brief, definitive answer but felt no joy. Instead, she was enveloped by a boundless sadness, sinking into deep confusion.

He was sparing with words, his heart as hard as iron, treating her with icy courtesy. He couldn't even be bothered to ask, "Why the sudden question?" and directly gave her the standard answer. It seemed like a warm reply, but the core was cold.

When he was with Tian Qin, he would laugh, joke, tease, be mischievous, deliberately steer the conversation toward flirtation. With her, he was so tight-lipped.

Xian Qiu paused, forced a smile, and protested too much, explaining, "Tian'er and I are sisters. How could we turn against each other? Even if she could, I wouldn't. I'm just supposing."

Xie Tanwei gave a slight nod. Supposition or not, it didn't matter.

Having come this far, Xian Qiu steeled herself and begged Xie Tanwei to keep some distance from Tian Qin, to consider her dignity as the legitimate wife. After all, Tian Qin wasn't even a concubine; by clan law, she was just a younger sister. The mountain villa had many eyes and ears; if word got out, it wouldn't be good.

Xie Tanwei pondered for a moment and agreed.

To her pleas, he simply agreed, as if their relationship was equally simple.

Xian Qiu felt a vague sense of loss.

Just then, Tian Qin led her maid to knock at the door and entered. Two translucent locust blossoms clung to her shoulder, clearly she had been there for a while. Xian Qiu was startled, but then felt there was nothing to be startled about. It was the truth; if Tian Qin wanted to hear it, she could.

Tian Qin's face was tinged with a faint pale green, her eyelids trembling slightly, as if overcast with drizzle. She seemed to want to speak but stopped. Xie Tanwei's gaze settled on her calmly, unobtrusively, waiting leisurely.

The atmosphere was silent, oddly tense.

Xian Qiu assumed Tian Qin had something to say to Xie Tanwei alone. She didn't want to be caught in the middle, but also wanted to take the chance to hear Tian Qin's true thoughts. So she pretended to change clothes and slipped into the inner chamber.

Through a wall adorned with calligraphy and antiques, Tian Qin's voice drifted clearly to her ears, "...Brother-in-law, it was you who crippled the Gao siblings. How can my sister blame me? Just now, Zi Wan came and scolded me."

Her voice wavered, carrying an almost imperceptible sob.

Xie Tanwei replied, "And so what?" His tone was uncharacteristically detached. Though his expression wasn't visible, his lazy, detached demeanor showed he wasn't taking sides in this dispute between wife and concubine. "We are a family; there's no separation."

Tian Qin was choked up, clearly unable to accept this. "You're biased toward my sister. It's unfair."

After a long pause, she escalated her demand, "Since you two are a family, let me go. Let me stay far away, out of your sight. You and my sister can be loving to each other."

Hearing this, Xian Qiu frowned. Tian Qin was so clueless, constantly threatening to leave—as if anyone was stopping her. She needed to know when to stop pushing her luck. Overdoing it would annoy anyone.

"Your sister is your mistress and your elder sister. Whatever she scolds you for is deserved. Just listen."

"But..."

"No 'but's. Get out."

Xie Tanwei cut her off with a frigid command.

His patience with Tian Qin today was exceptionally thin.

Then came the sound of Tian Qin hurrying away, sniffling, feeling deeply wronged.

Xian Qiu shuddered. She had spoken about Tian Qin in front of Xie Tanwei, but she hadn't expected the rift to become so deep.

Earlier, Xian Qiu had been angry and indeed sent Zi Wan to reprimand Tian Qin, telling her to mind her manners. That wretched girl actually had the nerve to complain to Xie Tanwei.

Previously, Xie Tanwei had always sided with Tian Qin, making her think she was invincible. But in truth, his principles were never fixed. Past indulgence didn't mean current indulgence.

After all, she was his legitimate wife. If she used gentle methods skillfully, she could still win her husband's heart.

...

Tian Qin was furious with the maid Zi Wan, who, relying on Xian Qiu's authority, had reprimanded her. She went to complain to Xie Tanwei, trying to use his recent favor to regain lost ground.

Instead, she only brought humiliation upon herself.

That man’s face changed faster than flipping through a book.

This scene was all too familiar. In her previous life, when he didn't care about her, when Li Fu and Xian Qiu conspired to frame her, his contempt had looked exactly the same.

Tian Qin walked dejectedly down the damp path littered with fallen locust blossoms. She realized more clearly than ever that she was nothing but a plaything. The words she had just spoken were nothing but the antics of a clown.

She wasn't exactly sad, just felt it was deeply beneath her—being forced to be bound to Xie Tanwei for life like this.

Since Xian Qiu had arrived, Xie Tanwei spent most of his time riding and sightseeing with her. Occasionally he would bring Tian Qin along, but he wasn't as intimate with her as in the previous days. He didn't even spare her a glance, deliberately drawing a clear boundary.

At heart, he did as he pleased. Wife or concubine, he favored whoever he wanted, talked to whoever interested him.

Tian Qin once again became a forgotten shadow, watching from afar as Xie Tanwei and Xian Qiu climbed the highland meadow and gazed out at the sea.

Xian Qiu pointed curiously at a sailboat in the distance. Xie Tanwei listened attentively, or brushed away the dragonflies circling over her head. The salty sea breeze and hazy light cascaded over them like a waterfall.

Tian Qin also wanted to see the sea. She had talked about it for days. But the romantic heights of the meadow only had room for that perfect couple, so she gave up the idea. She could already taste the salty fresh wind on her tongue; seeing the sea with her own eyes wasn't that important.

At lunch, the eggs were steamed through—hard as rocks, lacking the sweet richness of the yolk.

Tian Qin poked at them with her chopsticks, not daring to complain, for fear of being called picky. A few days ago, before Xian Qiu arrived, her eggs were still the three-minute soft-boiled ones he had carefully instructed the cook to make—juicy at the touch.

Xian Qiu mixed the rice and took a bite, exclaiming how delicious it was. "Eggs must be fully cooked; otherwise, they're fishy, like the sea."

Xie Tanwei chimed in, "Is the sea that unpleasant?"

"A little. I don't really like the smell of shells and sand."

Xian Qiu laughed. "So even though shell jewelry is iridescent, I never wear shell accessories."

Xie Tanwei picked a few clams from the soup and handed them to Xian Qiu. "Then don't."

Xian Qiu blushed, basking in her husband's attention.

Tian Qin lowered her head, silently ladling the soup. A chill ran down her spine. She had always loved shell jewelry. It shimmered with rainbow colors in the sunlight, just like the outfit she wore when she first met Xu Junzheng at the bookshop.

She scooped for a while, but the soup only had lotus root pieces and meatballs, floating cilantro and scallions, but no clams. It turned out the serving maid had overheard the lord and lady's dislike and had removed them beforehand.

Xie Tanwei didn't pay much attention to Tian Qin's feelings. Tian Qin had fallen from being a cherished young lady to a dependent stepsister, her daily provisions returning to ordinary levels. The slight tilt he had once subtly shown between the sisters had returned to equilibrium.

Tian Qin wasn't a true lady of the house. She lived at others' mercy, her circumstances entirely dependent on the head of the household's mood.

Perhaps her recent, repeated mentions of "love" had truly offended him.

After the meal, Xian Qiu went to freshen up. Xie Tanwei lazily sipped the last of his wine, leaving only the two of them at the table.

Tian Qin's heart skipped a beat. She spoke cautiously, "Brother-in-law, tomorrow I want to go out to sea with you both as well."

For the first time since he scolded her that day, she spoke to him.

Xie Tanwei acted as if he hadn’t heard her—no response, no movement, cold and indifferent, treating her like air, as if speaking to her would ruin his enjoyment of the drink.

He was temperamental and acted on a whim.

Tian Qin clutched her handkerchief in embarrassment.

Although she had made the request to go out to sea, whether she could actually go was not up to her. She wasn’t deliberately trying to intrude on their marital time or spoil their fishing fun; she simply wanted to see the ocean. She was prone to seasickness, had seen rivers and lakes, but never the vast, boundless sea. It was just curiosity about something new.

Tian Qin stood up, bowed, and tactfully left.

The evening breeze chilled her as she walked slowly, feeling as if some fragile string inside her had been plucked, leaving her unable to hold on. If she could go out to sea tomorrow, being thrown into the boundless ocean, turning into foam wouldn’t be so bad…

That night, Tian Qin slept especially restlessly.

The next morning, Nanny Chen cheerfully informed her, “Miss, didn’t you want to go out to sea? The Lord’s people are urging you. There’s a boat at the dock. Today, the Lord and Lady are going deep-sea fishing. If you don’t get up soon, you’ll miss the chance.”

Tian Qin jolted awake, hurriedly slipped on her shoes, washed her face, and changed into a light, elegant dress for the sea.

While Nanny Chen wasn’t looking, she inexplicably opened her vanity box and hid the bits of silver and small scissors she had secretly gathered under the hem of her skirt.

She didn’t know why she did it.

Perhaps, as the rumors outside said, she had already lost her mind.

Zhao Ning led Tian Qin to the dock—a small dock reserved exclusively for the Xie family’s boats, with a stunning view.

White seagulls, like little spirits, swarmed in dense circles, pecking at sweet potatoes from people’s hands, their feathers soft and unafraid of people. Xian Qiu had also brought some, enjoying feeding them. Waves crashed against the shore with a mighty roar, the wind so strong it nearly knocked people over. Their clothes and sashes flapped uncontrollably in the air, completely distorted. Staring at the deep blue sea for too long made one feel dizzy and fearful.

“Sister Tian, why are you here?”

Xian Qiu looked surprised, then turned to Xie Tanwei. “She gets seasick.”

Xie Tanwei’s voice was barely audible in the sea breeze: “Let her come along.”

Tian Qin stepped forward, crossed the ten-foot-long wooden gangplank by the shore, and bowed to her brother-in-law and sister.

Xian Qiu was a bit displeased, but since Tian Qin was already there, she bit back her words and said, “Tian’er, hurry onto the boat. We didn’t prepare a fishing rod for you, so you’ll just fish with me for a while.”

Tian Qin was indeed seasick. Even before the boat set off, just looking at the swaying, heaving sea made her feel like vomiting. She wanted to crouch down and rest, but the scissors under her skirt nearly stabbed her.

She stood by the mast, staring at the seaweed and schools of small fish swimming in the sea, as if lost in thought.

“Setting sail—”

The boatmen shouted to the lords and ladies.

The huge vessel slowly moved, displacing a large patch of seaweed. On board were not only the Xie family nobles but also fishermen, salt farmers, and pearl divers—all servants of the estate. Facing the gray, gloomy clouds over the sea, they cast nets and sharpened knives. The pearl divers prepared ropes and pig bladders for diving, ready to plunge into the deep sea to catch mother-of-pearl and harvest bright pearls for the Lady.

Tian Qin watched helplessly as the boat left the shore on which humans depended for survival, like a leaf cast adrift on the ocean, floating with the waves.

The sea air was pure as wine, the sky eggshell blue. Rolling dark clouds dyed the waves gray-black. The boat rose and fell, tilted and straightened, as if being swallowed.

Strictly speaking, today wasn’t suitable for sailing—with turbulent waves, anyone who fell overboard would be swept away, with no chance of survival.

A fisherman explained vividly, “But if we go early and return early, it’s fine. There are waves, but no storms.”

Tian Qin listened intently.