You Stole My Husband, So I Seduced Your Son - Chapter 3

The only responses to her question were Zhou Minghai’s snoring and Nanny Yun’s speculation: “Of course it’s you, Madam. You’ve been married to Master for twelve years…”

“Actually, it’s been eleven years. My son is ten this year.”

Standing so close to Zhou Minghai, Song Xuwan suddenly caught a faint sandalwood scent. She quickly picked up his discarded clothes and found that, in addition to the strong smell of alcohol, a subtle sandalwood fragrance clung to the fabric.

Noticing Song Xuwan’s grave expression, Nanny Yun hurried to smell the clothes herself. “Ah, that’s sandalwood,” she said knowingly. “It’s commonly used in temples. Master probably stopped by a temple to burn incense after work and ran into an old friend. They must have had a few drinks together.”

“When someone’s drunk, they can’t even remember if it’s been eleven or twelve years. Don’t overthink it, Madam.”

The more Nanny Yun tried to reassure her, the stronger Song Xuwan’s unease grew. Everything seemed to make sense, yet something felt fundamentally wrong. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the truth was something else entirely.

She stood up and slowly surveyed the study.

Song Xuwan rarely visited Zhou Minghai’s study. Firstly, she disliked reading and calligraphy. Secondly, since there were no maids to attend to her here, she didn’t need to be on her guard.

But tonight, as she gazed at the unfamiliar study, she felt an inexplicable certainty that it held secrets—perhaps hidden in some corner, waiting to be discovered.

With this thought in mind, Song Xuwan began to search.

Nanny Yun, oblivious to Song Xuwan’s true intentions, cheerfully praised, “People always say ‘red sleeves add fragrance to the study.’ Madam should come during the day to help Master organize his books—that’s how couples bond. At night, when Master is asleep, he can’t even see you, Madam. Isn’t it all for naught?”

The desk was completely bare, save for a few books and a brush holder with no hidden compartments. Beside the desk, a cylindrical scroll holder carved from fish-roe stone contained several scrolls. When Song Xuwan unrolled them, they were all empty.

They searched both multi-treasure shelves thoroughly. Aside from books, there were no secret compartments or correspondence.

Song Xuwan sank back into the grand master’s chair behind the desk, her fingers drumming unconsciously on the surface. If I were Zhou Minghai, where would I hide a secret?

After pondering for a long time without a clue, Nanny Yun ventured, “Madam, it’s getting late. Shall we continue helping Master organize the study tomorrow?”

Song Xuwan slumped back in the chair, her gaze drifting upward to the plaque above her head. Inscribed in bold characters were the words “Enlightened Virtue, Utmost Goodness.”

This plaque had been personally written by Zhou Minghai’s late father, and it served as the origin of the brothers’ names.

Staring at the plaque for a moment, Song Xuwan suddenly stood on the chair and reached behind it, trying to feel for anything hidden there.

Unfortunately, her height fell short. Spotting a square stool made of yellow pearwood nearby, she quickly dragged it over, placed it on the grand master’s chair, and climbed up again, stretching her hand behind the plaque.

It was then that Nanny Yun realized Madam Song Xuwan wasn’t organizing Master’s study—she was searching for something!

Nanny Yun rushed over, steadying the chair as she urged, “Madam, please come down! It’s too high. What if you slip? Tell me what you’re looking for, and I’ll fetch a servant.”

“Master’s servants mustn’t know about this,” Song Xuwan said coldly.

As she spoke, Song Xuwan’s hand brushed against a wooden box, chilling her to the core.

She carefully retrieved the box and gently placed it on the desk.

A sandalwood box, its lid adorned with gold-painted jasmine blossoms.

What man would use a box decorated with jasmine flowers to store his belongings? Song Xuwan felt the remaining warmth in her heart drain away.

Staring at the box, she repeatedly told herself to remain calm, to not lose her composure like a shrew who had discovered her husband’s mistress.

Taking a deep breath, she reached out to open the box.

Suddenly, a hand pressed down on the lid. Nanny Yun, her eyes red-rimmed, pleaded, “Madam, they say even the closest couples keep secrets. Just pretend you saw nothing. Let’s go back. Tomorrow morning, we’ll carry on as usual. You and Master will still be a loving couple.”

“Nanny, you know my temperament.”

She was not one to tolerate even a grain of sand in her eye, nor could she bear those around her harboring deep secrets. Between husband and wife, there should be absolute intimacy.

Song Xuwan brushed aside Nanny Yun’s hand and opened the box without hesitation. Inside, letters lay neatly arranged, some crisp and new, others yellowed with age, evidence of correspondence spanning many years.

Nanny Yun pressed her hand over the letters again, making one last plea. “Madam, these letters appear to be very old. You and Master have been devoted to each other for so long. Clearly, these letters haven’t affected your relationship. Why don’t we just leave them be?”

“Have you considered what might happen if you read them and they do damage your marriage? What would you do then?”

By the end, Nanny Yun’s voice trembled with tears.

Song Xuwan closed her eyes, memories of their past affection flashing before her. She forced a bitter smile and said, half-jokingly, “Perhaps it’s not what we imagine. Maybe they’re just letters from one of Master’s ordinary friends.”

Nanny Yun could never believe such a thing. The floral patterns on the box and the Xue Tao paper inside unmistakably pointed to a connection with a woman. Every detail hinted that this box held secrets related to a woman.

Despite her heart pounding like a drum, Song Xuwan gradually calmed down after opening the first letter. As she read through each one, the bitter smile at the corner of her lips slowly transformed into a cold sneer, and for the first time, her exquisite features seemed to crack.

Nanny Yun watched in terror, her voice trembling as she asked, “Miss, what does the letter say? Don’t scare Nanny.”

What did it say?

It was merely the story of a man who had loved a woman for many years.

The love appeared deeply moving and tender, but the woman had married another, leaving her no choice but to repeatedly reject the man’s advances.

Heartbroken and disillusioned, the man married another woman to carry on his lineage. Yet, beyond fulfilling his marital duties, his heart remained fixed on the first woman.

This tragic romance would have been beautiful, if only the man’s name had been Zhou Minghai and the woman’s name had been Song Xuwan.

After reading the letters, all the mysteries unraveled. Surprisingly, Song Xuwan’s previous anxiety vanished, and she calmly summarized the situation for Nanny Yun.

“My husband was in love with Min Rongxue before our marriage. But she married someone else, so he married me. All these years, he’s never stopped thinking about her.”

Nanny Yun glanced at the brocade box and sneered, “That Min Rongxue is no better than she should be. Married and still exchanging letters with a married man? Her character is clearly questionable.”

“You’ve misunderstood Madam Min,”

As Song Xuwan sorted through the letters, she sneered, “Zhou Minghai must have been utterly infatuated. He even copied each letter before sending it, keeping a copy for himself. Now we have a complete record of their correspondence.

After reading them all, it’s clear Zhou Minghai was the one relentlessly pursuing her. She politely but firmly rejected him, but our dear Master, being the hopeless romantic he is, persisted in writing for years. How touching!”

“Perhaps she was only pretending to refuse, secretly enjoying the attention. Otherwise, why would they have kept up this exchange for so long? She must be a real piece of work!”

What’s the point of cursing others? Her own husband is the most disgusting person in this whole affair.

She never imagined the marriage everyone envied would be so bloody and rotten beneath its glittering facade.

Song Xuwan let out a self-deprecating laugh. All these years, she’d truly lived a joke.

After tidying up the letters, she turned to look at Zhou Minghai, snoring like a pig in his sleep. Her stomach churned violently, and despite having eaten nothing, she nearly vomited.

“Min Rongxue… that name sounds so familiar. Where have I heard it before?”