My wife is a concubine - Chapter 8

Du Yu was like a puppet that only moved when pulled  no matter whether he was sad or happy, not a trace of emotion ever showed on his pale face. The light inside the room wasn’t good, and the snow outside reflected faint sunlight, making his already white face look even more somber.

He thought for a long time before finally speaking under Lao Jiu’s prompting.
“You’ve grown taller.”

Bergman was still growing, and after a few months, she had shot up like a young willow.

“I’ve only grown a little taller,” she said cheerfully, “the rest comes from this under my feet.”
She gestured with her thumb and forefinger, then pointed to the hem of her skirt.

That day, she wore her hair in a double spiral bun  a style both neat and playful  and showed no fear at all before Prince Gong.

Bergman couldn’t quite explain why this man, who others found dark and terrifying, somehow caught her attention.

“What is it?” Du Yu asked.

“High-soled shoes.” Bergman lifted the edge of her skirt to reveal them, eager to show them off, unaware of Bao Si’s sharp intake of breath.

Du Yu didn’t find her gesture rude or improper; he simply stepped closer and walked halfway around her.
“You designed them yourself?”

“Your Highness guessed it.” She smiled, pleased. Wearing those shoes made her walk gracefully she even felt a little more elegant.

“This height is good,” Du Yu said, referring to the difference between them. The last time they’d met, she hadn’t even reached his shoulder. At least now, he didn’t have to bend down to speak with her.

But Bergman frowned and glared up at him. “I’m still young — I’ll grow taller later!”

Yet the hard truth was, in her previous life, she’d never grown past a hundred and six centimeters. She had invented high-soled shoes back then precisely because she hated being short.

In all her lifetimes, she’d never been blessed with height.

“Since you’re already here in the palace, let’s walk around,” Du Yu said. “The scenery isn’t bad.”

While speaking to Bergman, he completely ignored Bao Si  though Bao Si didn’t mind. She was relieved. The less Prince Gong noticed her, the better. He was far too frightening; she prayed he would continue pretending she didn’t exist.

“Your Highness,” Bao Si began politely, realizing her sister was stepping back. It wasn’t proper for a prince to personally entertain an official’s daughters.

Lao Jiu, listening nearby, noticed something different. His Highness never spoke casually, yet with Miss Bao Er, he was chatting word for word  as if enjoying it.

This is a rare moment, Lao Jiu thought. If you don’t strike while the iron is hot, His Highness’s warmth will turn to ice again  just like with that eldest Miss Bao.

“Why don’t I have Aunt Xuan come over to accompany the two girls?” Lao Jiu suggested. “Miss Bao Er is familiar with her  they’ll have something to talk about.”

Du Yu gave no objection, so Lao Jiu arranged it.

Aunt Xuan was delighted. This was the first time His Highness had invited officials’ families into the palace since arriving at his fief. And after her past ordeal with Bergman, she already felt a bond with the girl  as if they were old friends.

She dutifully led the two young ladies along a winding, glass-roofed corridor toward the inner courtyards.
The Prince’s Mansion was laid out in three main sections  east, central, and west — each lined with courtyards stretching north to south, arranged along a strict central axis.

Even from the inner rooms, one could see through the latticed windows to views of strange rocks, water, and miniature mountains  every turn revealing new and ingenious scenery.

Bergman felt the visit was well worth it.

For Du Yu, it had been his duty to meet her, yet he couldn’t help feeling that there was something more  a trace of regret. He had so many questions he wanted to ask her…

When he returned to his desk, his thoughts were still distracted.

“Your Highness, have some ginseng tea.” Lao Jiu, ever attentive, knew exactly when to help his master rest. The tea was served hot, at the perfect temperature.

Du Yu took a sip and stretched his neck.

“Shall I help loosen Your Highness’s shoulders?” Lao Jiu asked. When Du Yu nodded, he began massaging his shoulders with practiced pressure. Du Yu’s eyes half closed as he gradually relaxed.

“The old servant heard that Aunt Xuan has taken the two girls to the tea room,” Lao Jiu began, only half-speaking before Du Yu gave him a glance that said he wasn’t interested.

Du Yu sometimes wondered if he was too indulgent with this talkative old man  but without Lao Jiu and Aunt Qi, he wouldn’t even be alive. He’d gotten used to Lao Jiu’s chatter; after all, it came from loyalty.

“Your Highness will never guess what they were talking about,” Lao Jiu continued slyly, sure he’d pique his master’s curiosity.

Du Yu stayed silent.

“They were talking about printing and dyeing cloth,” Lao Jiu finally said.

At that, Du Yu straightened.

“Miss Bao Er said she wants to open a dyeing shop,” Lao Jiu went on. “Quite an ambitious girl, isn’t she? Do you think she can actually do it?” His tone implied he thought it was just boasting.

“Why her?” Du Yu murmured. But as he spoke, he remembered the two outfits she’d made before. Perhaps she really did have a talent for fabric.

“This old slave doesn’t know,” Lao Jiu said, “but why not summon Miss Bao and ask her? Your Highness is always interested in profitable ventures.”

That was true. And since the paperwork was nearly done, Du Yu agreed. Lao Jiu immediately sent someone to fetch Bergman.

Bergman, who had been peacefully drinking tea in the women’s quarters, was once again called to the Chaoyang Courtyard.

“Do you know how to color cloth?” Du Yu asked directly as soon as she entered.

Bergman frowned slightly. Why does everyone here listen to everything said in the palace? She had only mentioned the idea in passing  she never thought it would reach the prince’s ears.

What she didn’t know was that Du Yu already owned a dyeing workshop, though it produced only a few dull colors. His fief needed industry  something that could create jobs and boost the economy  but without breakthroughs in dyeing techniques, progress was impossible.

If she truly understood how to create and mix dyes, it would mean a fortune. In this business, even one new color could bring endless profits.

Bergman, once a fashion designer in modern times, had little hands-on experience with weaving, but she knew plenty about natural dyes. Since arriving in Pianzhou, she’d noticed the locals had small shops but no real workshops to make a living. Even if there was silver to invest, no one had the skills.

“Does Your Highness have any ideas?” she asked.

“If your answer satisfies me,” Du Yu said calmly, “I will let you use my dyeing workshop. Whatever conditions you need, they will be met.”

That was the longest speech she had ever heard from him  proof of his sincerity. Bergman’s heart stirred.

To succeed, the process had to be perfect: the sequence of materials precise, the colors vivid and lasting, resistant to fading. If she could create a proper color palette and send it to the noblewomen in the capital, they’d be fighting to buy it.

She had never considered opening such a business before  it required enormous funds and skilled colorists, far beyond her means. But now, the prince himself was offering the support she lacked.

A sponsor. Finally.

“Then please send someone to take me to the workshop, Your Highness,” she said. “You’ll need to see what I can do before deciding if it’s worth the partnership.”

“Good. You’re straightforward.” Du Yu rose. “I’ll go with you.”

His workshop required his personal token to enter  no one else had access.

“And my sister?” she asked.

“I’ll send someone to escort Miss Bao home,” he said. “You needn’t worry.”

So Du Yu led Bergman to his dyeing workshop.

Inside the carriage, Du Yu remained reserved and quiet. But before stepping out, he suddenly turned to her and asked, “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

“Why should I be?” she replied honestly, her tone completely natural.

“Everyone else is.”

“The most frightening thing about people isn’t their appearance,” she said softly, “but their hearts. Besides, Your Highness’s looks and status are exceptional  there’s hardly anyone in the world who could compare.”

Du Yu’s expression didn’t change, but inside, his heart stirred like a storm.

No one had ever told him that before  that his face wasn’t frightening, but that true ugliness lay in the heart. Did she understand that from experience?
If most people had lived through what she had, they’d hide it away  but not her. She faced everything with calm honesty.

A woman like this, he thought, one who doesn’t play by the rules  she might bring some real life into this cold palace.

How much strength was hidden in that small frame? And her laughter  it was beautiful too.

For the first time, he wanted to know her. To see her smile for him.

Bergman, unaware that she’d caught the attention of a stoic predator, gazed out the carriage window as they arrived at a quiet compound surrounded by low buildings.

The carriage stopped.

From the outside, the dyeing workshop seemed small, but inside it stretched wide. Workers busied themselves, and when they saw Du Yu, they dropped to their knees, too afraid to look up. The overseer stepped forward nervously.

“Take me to the dyeing room,” Bergman said brightly as she jumped down, unconsciously stepping in front of Du Yu as if to shield him from view.

The steward glanced at Du Yu, and when he nodded, led her in without a word.

The dyeing room was usually forbidden to anyone but the color masters, so when a delicate young woman suddenly entered, the craftsmen weren’t exactly pleased.

“Don’t make noise. This girl was brought by that one.”
The steward pointed outside respectfully  the terrifying Great Demon King himself was out there. Anyone who valued their job wouldn’t dare make a sound.

Once the steward said that, every dyeing master shut their mouths tight like clams.

But their reluctance quickly faded when the first piece of cloth was hung up.

“I’ve never seen a fabric in this color before!”

In this era, most fabrics were dyed with natural, basic colors. Some people managed to mix primary colors to get green, purple, or pink  the so-called “intercolors.” But beyond that, it was almost impossible to create deeper or layered hues.

The fabrics dyed by Bergman ranged from light to dark, revealing shades these craftsmen had never seen before. No wonder they were astonished.

While the masters were still marveling, Du Yu entered and saw the colorful fabrics himself.

No one else noticed, but Lao Jiu did  His Highness actually smiled! This girl from the Bao family truly was something divine!

His Highness had experienced so little joy in life  especially emotional warmth. And now, this woman could make him smile. Even if Lao Jiu had to twist heaven and earth, he was determined to bring her closer to His Highness.

Next, Bergman carefully grouped dozens of similar colors into distinct shades. The results were so remarkable that the dyeing masters couldn’t help but ask her for advice.

Of course, professionalism meant survival  no one dared to openly let Bergman teach them, for fear of losing their jobs. Yet seeing such beautifully dyed fabric stirred envy and awe in their hearts.

Bergman didn’t intend to hide her techniques. The Chinese had a long-standing habit of keeping secrets in every craft  holding something back so that the full art was rarely passed down intact. She understood that many lost skills came from this very mentality.

Still, she knew she couldn’t teach everything at once. It had to be gradual — she had to make a living, after all.

“When I go back, I’ll write down the proper order of the materials and let you know. The dyes here also need improvement. Once I’ve sorted everything out, I’ll return and share it with you all.”

Because the available dyes were limited, she could only produce a dozen or so new colors. But if she could gather all the plants she needed, the range and brightness of her fabrics would be far greater.

The dyeing masters hadn’t expected Bergman to share her knowledge so freely. Their earlier resentment faded, replaced with respect  though they still didn’t dare flatter her openly.

Du Yu ordered the dyers to collect all the plants listed by Bergman, and to wait for her to return and process them for the next round of dyeing.

Once back in the carriage, Du Yu asked softly, “Did you do this in your previous life?”

Bergman looked down at her fingers, still stained from the dyes, and quickly hid them before Du Yu could notice.
“In my previous life, I was too focused on vanity. I didn’t care to make money with my own hands.”

“It’s hard to believe that,” Du Yu said. “You don’t seem the type.”

“Don’t I?” She smiled faintly. “Just like bad people don’t wear ‘bad’ written on their faces. But this life is different  I’ll never rely on others again. I’ll live the life I want with my own hands.”

She had once believed that she could simply reach out for what she wanted  but she had never considered what would happen when no one was there to give it.

Du Yu studied her in silence, lost in thought.

After dyeing so much fabric, her arms and waist were sore. The steady rhythm of the carriage soon lulled her to sleep  her head resting unknowingly on Du Yu’s shoulder.

Prince Gong, who usually avoided all physical closeness  especially with women  didn’t move her away.

For him, that small act meant taking responsibility.
And that responsibility would last a lifetime.

When Bergman returned home from the prince’s palace, she didn’t think much had changed. Her sister, however, rushed to her and asked where Prince Gong had gone.

She had worried for Bergman’s safety and felt she hadn’t fulfilled her duty as an older sister.

Bergman, being open by nature, told her everything about the dyeing workshop.

Bao Si’s eyes lit up. “Are you sure about this?” She had thought there’d be no chance to make money in Pianzhou  who would’ve guessed a golden opportunity would drop from the sky?

“Seventy to eighty percent sure,” Bergman said.

“Look at you, grinning so wide. Don’t you think that’s a bit ugly?” Bao Si teased, pinching her nose in mock disgust.

“Do I smell like copper then? Fine  let’s stink together!” Bergman laughed and rubbed against her sister playfully. Bao Si laughed too, rubbing back, and soon the sisters were giggling together.

The next day, Bergman sent the written list of color formulas to the dyeing workshop. Of course, she didn’t reveal all her secrets  no one with sense ever gave away their core skills completely.

Since Du Yu had given her a token to freely enter and exit the workshop, she went on her own this time. The veteran masters followed her instructions carefully, and soon they managed to produce the shade of Buddha-gold she wanted.

When the golden fabric was hung on the bamboo poles, the workers cheered. They wanted to lift Bergman up in celebration but, remembering the boundaries between men and women, they restrained themselves.

Still, their joy was overflowing. The workshop would thrive again! They no longer had to worry about losing their jobs or failing to feed their families. They could finally walk home with pride  maybe even buy two pounds of meat to celebrate!

“This Miss Bao is a lucky star  a great blessing to our entire workshop!” they said.

Bergman was busy at the dyeing house, unaware that back home, the Bao family was thrown into chaos  Prince Gong’s mansion had sent a matchmaker.

Coincidentally, Bao Zhengtao was home when the matchmaker arrived.

When she explained her purpose  that Prince Gong wanted to take Bergman, the Bao family’s second daughter  both parents fell silent.

How could this be?

Prince Gong wanted their daughter as a concubine  an honor beyond imagining for most families. Yet it was too sudden.

At first, they thought the prince had simply shown politeness to the new prefect’s family. Who would’ve expected that one visit would make him fall for their youngest daughter?

Bao Zhengtao was upright by nature and never thought of exchanging his daughter for wealth or power. Still, he couldn’t entirely reject the idea of her entering the palace  it was, after all, a rare opportunity.

He had dealt with Du Yu before, and he knew firsthand how intimidating the man was. Facing him had made even a tall, dignified man like himself tremble. The thought of giving his daughter to such a person made him uneasy.

Could Prince Gong really not follow the usual rules?

The matchmaker, seasoned as she was, quickly sensed their hesitation. As expected, Bao Zhengtao politely declined for the moment, saying he needed to ask his daughter’s opinion first.

After the matchmaker left, the couple looked at each other in confusion.

When Bergman came home and heard the news, she froze. A concubine? After being reborn and going through so much, was she still fated to become someone’s concubine?

She thought of the scheming, the jealousy, and the hidden daggers behind palace smiles  and her stomach turned. Yet when she remembered Du Yu’s face and the way he had spoken to her, her heart rippled unexpectedly.

He looked cold, but deep down, she sensed a quiet sincerity. He had even tried to make small talk with her  something he probably never did with anyone else.

Was he doing that on purpose?

Still, being a concubine? No. She was tired of competing for affection. And besides — her elder sister hadn’t even married yet. How could she, the younger one, marry first?

Bao Zhengtao loved his daughters deeply. Since Bergman refused, he didn’t press her.

“Since Yaya doesn’t wish to enter the palace,” he told his wife, “we can’t force her. Marriage is their choice after all. Both girls are grown now… time passes so quickly.”

He sighed, realizing he had been too focused on his official duties to think seriously about his daughters’ futures.

Meanwhile, at Prince Gong’s Mansion —

“What? The prince wants to take a concubine? Grandma, where did you hear that? Is it true?”

At once, the princess, He Yanzhi, sat upright on her beauty couch, her jeweled hairpins jingling.

“The whole household’s buzzing,” said Mama Shi, her old nurse. “But since the princess never goes out, no one dares bring the news to you — afraid it might upset you.”

“He can’t please me, so he goes looking for someone else? Men are so cheap!” He Yanzhi sneered.

“Princess, please don’t speak like that,” Mama Shi warned. “If this reaches the prince’s ears, it’ll cause another rift. As his wife, you mustn’t be so disrespectful.”

“Am I supposed to be afraid of him?” He Yanzhi raised an eyebrow and turned away.

“Listen to me,” Mama Shi said earnestly. “You and the prince are already bound by marriage — that’s unchangeable. Instead of resenting him, think about how to win his favor and bear him an heir. If a concubine enters and gives him a son before you, it’ll be too late for regrets.”

He Yanzhi fell silent, her lips parting but no words coming out. “I just can’t accept this,” she muttered. “I could’ve married someone better. Why should I spend my life wronged beside him?” The thought of her cold, distant husband sent chills up her spine.

Her father was the empire’s Second Assistant Minister. She was a celebrated beauty, unmatched among her sisters. When the prince had sought a bride, he had originally favored her  but being the fourth daughter, she was overlooked, and instead married off to the Fifth Prince, who was soon sent away.

How could she possibly be content with that?

“Princess,” Mama Shi sighed, “it’s useless to dwell on it now. The key is to make the prince change his mind. That side concubine is only the daughter of a fourth-rank official how could she compare with your beauty and intelligence? If you show more gentleness, surely His Highness will turn back to you.”

From her years of service, Mama Shi knew the prince wasn’t lustful  he’d been married two years and kept no other women. The princess had been secure because of that. But if a new woman entered the house, everything could change  and if the princess acted rashly then, the consequences would be dire.

He Yanzhi scoffed. “I’m his wife. What if he takes a concubine? As if that could shake me.”

She didn’t take Bergman seriously at all.

Dealing with such a lowly woman? Too easy.

If that concubine wanted to fight her, she’d better prepare to lose — badly.