ITVCFITB CHAPTER 2

Chapter 2 - Claiming the Dowry

After Marquis Wenchang and the eunuch who read the imperial decree departed, the Luo household gradually returned to its usual atmosphere.

The Old Madam was helped back to her seat. As a titled lady in her own right, she received tea from the maids, and after the round of courtesies, everyone’s face carried a glow of satisfaction. They each found their seats: the Old Madam and Luo Renshou at the head, Lady Liu seated just below him, while the younger generation scattered about in order of rank.

As the legitimate heir, Luo Shuyu had never received much of Luo Renshou’s affection. If anything, there was a subtle coldness, an attitude that had quietly shaped the Old Madam’s own lack of warmth toward him.

In his past life, Luo Shuyu had perhaps cared too much for kinship. He would always excuse Luo Renshou’s indifference, telling himself his father was merely preoccupied. Only when Luo Renshou needed him would he put on the guise of a benevolent father, feigning concern for a few words. Looking back now, it was all nothing more than an attempt to use him for news from the Third Prince’s household.

Once, Luo Shuyu had tried eagerly to draw closer to his father. After all, this was his own flesh and blood, the only man in the world he could truly rely on. But after living through betrayal and death, when he now looked again at Luo Renshou, what he saw was no father at all, but a petty, self-serving man. He had never loved Shuyu’s mother, only coveted the power and prestige of her family. When he married her, he had been nothing more than a sixth-rank minor official; his climb to today’s position had been paved almost entirely by the Chen clan’s influence. And when disaster later befell the Chen family, he had fled without hesitation, cutting all ties. It was no wonder the Luo family had never once contacted the Chens over the years. Luo Renshou embodied selfishness, opportunism, and betrayal to the very bone.

Looking at these people he had once called family, their faces seeming as kind and benevolent as bodhisattvas, but in truth ugly and hypocritical, Luo Shuyu felt only a chill sink into his heart.

He remembered vividly that after he and the Third Prince were thrown into prison, Luo Renshou never once came to see him. Desperate, he entrusted the jade pendant his mother had left him to someone, begging them to plead with his father for help. But the only reply Luo Renshou sent back was a single phrase:

“Life and death are fated, wealth lies with Heaven. What is destined will come, what is not cannot be forced.”

The words cut two ways. He would save no one. Survival was all that mattered for himself. Perhaps he hadn’t merely stood by; perhaps it was his own hands that had presented false evidence against them.

Luo Shuyu hated this man. Praised everywhere as “gentle and humble” with all his being. The imperial decree in his hands no longer felt heavy. In his past life, he had seen it as his death warrant. In this life, it was his shield, his protection, his guarantee for the future.

He had been so blind before, too ready to believe in the illusion of fatherly love, never doubting it even for a moment. But what had it been, really? A leaf before his eyes, hiding the truth.

How stupid he had been! Each crumb of affection thrown his way, he had treasured and repaid with trust, going so far as to confide to Luo Renshou the matters of the Third Prince’s household. Now, he could not help but wonder if his father had played a decisive role in the charges of treason against the prince.

As he stewed in his thoughts, Luo Renshou smiled his usual benevolent smile, the one that had fooled so many:

“Shuyu, from today on, stay in your courtyard and prepare for the wedding. Don’t trouble yourself with anything else. Your father will handle it all for you.”

Shuyu nearly laughed. Could he not see his father’s cold indifference? If there had been even a shred of genuine affection, would he have been ignored all these years? In this household, as the legitimate son, he had lived worse than some concubine-born children with their mothers’ protection. Especially compared to Liu’s sons, who lacked for nothing.

The love he had once clung to, what a pathetic joke it seemed now.

Suppressing his disgust, he struck back directly, his words heavy as a blow:

“Father, since I am to marry the Third Prince, we cannot afford to bring shame upon him. I don’t ask for much, but I do ask to see my mother’s dowry. I hope Father will hand me the key to her dowry storeroom without delay.”

His mother had brought a lavish dowry when she married, a procession stretching for miles. A celebrated daughter of the Chen family, she had once been sought after by every promising young man in the capital. But after the Chen clan fell from grace and she herself died of illness not long after, no one had ever mentioned the dowry again. In his past life, Luo Renshou had kept silent on the matter even after Shuyu entered the royal household. Once, at a banquet, he’d noticed his fourth brother wearing a purple mink robe that drew endless praise. A woman nearby had remarked that his late mother once possessed such a garment. Only then had suspicion stirred in him, but clouded by confusion and fear, he never investigated further.

At the word dowry, Lady Liu’s eyes flicked instantly toward Luo Renshou.

Luo Renshou himself froze, his heart jolting. How had Shuyu suddenly thought of his late wife’s dowry? How could he even remember it?

Still, he thought Shuyu was the same naive child, easily coaxed, still yearning for scraps of fatherly affection. Forcing a smile, he said smoothly:

“Your mother’s dowry is, of course, well preserved. But why the hurry, before you’ve even married? Soon you’ll be a prince’s consort. If others hear you already coveting such things, they’ll say I failed to teach you properly. Have I not always told you—one must be generous, one must see the bigger picture?”

Moral lectures? Luo Shuyu nearly spat in his face. What teaching had this man ever given him? This wasn’t guidance, it was shackles.

A minister of the court, feigning ignorance of the Third Prince’s character? Sending his own child into a tiger’s den without a flicker of worry? And yet he dared speak of “magnanimity”?

What did it mean to be magnanimous, hand over his life again? Serve as their spy in the Third Prince’s household to pave a path for the Luo family?

This was the true Luo Renshou: a father in name only, playing both sides, using even his son as a disposable pawn.

But to Shuyu, the Third Prince’s household was no death trap. It was to be his refuge. Reclaiming his mother’s dowry was the first step in securing his foothold. Before death could claim him again, he would prepare. He would try to change fate for himself, for Li Mingjin, for the child he once lost.

“Father,” he replied evenly, “being magnanimous has nothing to do with whether I bring my mother’s dowry into the prince’s estate. I recall clearly that her last will left the dowry to me alone. Now that I am to marry into the Third Prince’s household, that dowry will be the Luo family’s foundation. Surely we cannot appear shabby before the royal family. If I fare poorly there, it will disgrace our entire house. Outsiders might even think you oppose His Majesty’s decree.”

Better to wield the emperor’s authority against him than to complain of neglect. Luo Renshou feared nothing more than being accused of defying the throne.

For once, Shuyu’s tone was firm, each word sharp and unyielding. The shift unsettled Luo Renshou deeply. The smile on his face stiffened, then slowly faded.

Who had emboldened this son of his? Who had put such words in his mouth? Never before had Luo Shuyu spoken back to him, never once. And now, suddenly, he was eloquent, piercing, impossible to dismiss.

But with the decree already issued, Luo Renshou could not afford to appear harsh or unfeeling. He could not let the world say he was an unkind father. So he swallowed his pride and answered:

“Very well. I will have your mother’s dowry inventoried. You shall receive a full list, and I will add some new gifts besides.”

If Shuyu hadn’t spoken up, he would have happily left the matter buried. But with the entire household listening, he had no choice but to yield for now.

Of course, that was precisely Shuyu’s plan. If he had confronted his father in private, he would have been brushed off with a few vague words or refused outright. Only before witnesses could Luo Renshou be forced to comply.

Lady Liu’s lips parted, ready to object, but before she could speak, the Old Madam still fingering her prayer beads, cut in:

“Shuyu, you’re about to marry into the prince’s household. Don’t be so petty. Too much sharpness wins no favor. Do you really think your father would embezzle your mother’s dowry? How could you say such things?”

Her tone was sharp, words cloaked as admonition but dripping with malice. She was making it plain: stop talking about the dowry, and let Liu continue to enjoy it.

The Old Madam had little learning, but two things she valued above all: her most successful son, Luo Renshou, and wealth. With her son losing face in front of his children, she naturally leapt to shield him.

My mother’s dowry... why should it fatten these ungrateful wolves?

Suppressing his disdain, Luo Shuyu replied lightly, “Grandmother’s words may not be entirely accurate. Father has never once mentioned my mother’s dowry. I only reminded him, that is all. I also hope that what was wrongly taken will soon be returned.”

He had died once already. Why should he fear the Luo family now?

Liu flushed at the veiled accusation, but the Old Madam shut her down with a wave:

“Enough. Focus on preparing the wedding properly. Don’t disgrace our family’s name.”

Her words were aimed at Lady Liu, warning her to keep quiet. She then rose, dismissing the matter. “That’s enough. I’ll return to my quarters.”

Her mood had soured, what should have been a joyous day had been spoiled by Shuyu’s insistence on the dowry.

“Yes, Mother,” Lady Liu murmured, bowing her head as she followed the Old Madam out.

Luo Renshou, unwilling to look at Shuyu again, left soon after, taking his two elder sons to the study. Liu trailed off as well, pained expression etched across her face, leading her maids away. Half the hall emptied.

The remaining younger ones turned to stare at Shuyu, still holding the decree. In their eyes were envy, jealousy, detachment, and from some, open disdain.

That disdain came most clearly from Luo Shuyu’s fifth brother, Luo Shuyao, spoiled endlessly by Lady Liu.

Fingering his new jade pendant, the boy sneered:

“Third Brother, you’re not even married yet, but you’re already putting on airs. Anyone would think you’re already the prince’s consort.”

“How I conduct myself is hardly your concern,” Shuyu replied lazily, brushing the embroidered clouds at his sleeve without even lifting his eyes.

That nonchalance stung. Flushed, the boy leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially:

“Maybe you don’t know what the Third Prince is really like. I’ve heard he kills without blinking, and maids are carried out of his chambers dead. If he so much as frowns, he’ll have someone flogged until their flesh splits. You’d better pray for yourself.”

Shuyu’s gaze didn’t waver. His reply was cool, mocking:

“Ah, so Fifth Brother knows such things? Strange, for an unmarried youth to be so familiar with another man’s private affairs. I wonder what Father would think, should he hear of it. Or your future husband, for that matter. Then we’ll see who ought to be praying for themselves.”

The barb struck deep. Speechless, his brother flushed crimson, mouth opening and closing without a word. He could only stomp his feet in frustration as Luo Shuyu rose and left the hall, his figure calm and unhurried.

“Fourth Sister! Why didn’t you help me?” he cried to the girl sitting serenely nearby.

Luo Shuyue merely smiled, voice soft and airy:

“What’s the rush? Once he marries, the real show will begin. If the Third Prince’s household were truly so desirable, would the emperor have given it to him?”

That thought soothed him somewhat. He huffed, comforted by the idea of waiting to watch Shuyu’s downfall.

Back in his own courtyard, the Ruyi Pavilion, Luo Shuyu finally let out a slow breath. His father’s coldness no longer cut into him as it once had.

The petty rivalries of siblings over clothes or looks had never mattered to him. What he truly had to face was far greater, the story’s true protagonist, Shen Mingyun.

In the book, from Shen Mingyun’s perspective, the Third Prince’s heart had been set on him. Only later did Shen himself ruin that chance, when the emperor suddenly intervened, decreeing that Luo Shuyu marry the prince instead.

Looking down at the decree in his hand, Luo Shuyu let out a quiet sigh.

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