Chapter 114: Let’s Be Direct

Page 1/3

Zhen Qian had already concluded that the person with whom he had shared passionate moments last night was none other than Lucia. Without Wang Po’s arrangement, he would never have believed it. Wang Po was his mother’s wet nurse, and her daughter was his mother’s personal maid. Wang Po had watched him grow up, so the bond was naturally deep and unquestionable.

In ancient times, people married early before establishing their careers. This was largely due to the shorter life expectancy back then.

The "Family Rites of Confucius" records Duke Ai of Lu asking Confucius: "A boy is mature at sixteen, a girl at fourteen, so they can bear children. But I’ve heard in the rites that men marry at thirty and women at twenty—isn’t that rather late?"

Confucius explained: "The rites speak in extremes but are not excessive. Men wear the cap at twenty, marking the start of fatherhood; women marry around fifteen, signifying their proper path. Beyond these ages, it is considered late for marriage."

Here, “men marry at thirty and women at twenty” represents the upper limit for marriage, akin to today’s concept of late bloomers.

In the seventh year of Emperor Gaozu of Tang’s reign, age categories were defined: newborns termed "yellow," four-year-olds "small," sixteen-year-olds "middle," twenty-one "adult," and sixty "elderly." The term "adult men" frequently appearing in ancient texts referred to those of age to perform labor and military duties.

Emperor Taizong of Tang set marriage ages at twenty for men and fifteen for women. In the first year of the Zhenguan era, an imperial edict stated: “Commoners without families shall seek marriage through local officials, freely choosing partners from their peers without coercion. Men must be over twenty, women over fifteen. Widows and widowers whose mourning periods have ended must also report their intentions to remarry, to ensure harmonious unions.”

Population size directly affected a nation’s strength. Emperor Taizong used marriage and childbirth as criteria for evaluating officials, a policy echoing those of early Han dynasty rulers encouraging population growth.

During Emperor Xuanzong’s reign, the minimum legal marriage age was lowered further—to fifteen for men and thirteen for women—but this did not imply mandatory marriage at those ages.

The Tang dynasty’s early marriage customs stemmed from their understanding that girls at fourteen were ready for motherhood, and menopause occurred around forty-nine; boys at sixteen could become fathers, and men lost virility by sixty-four.

This reveals the Tang people’s keen awareness of human physiology, including ovulation and menopause, disproving any notion that ancient people were less intelligent than moderns.

Among the three great unfilial acts, having no descendants is the gravest.

Zhen Qian was now twenty, more than old enough to marry and have children. Previously, he had been focused on diligent study and official examinations, leaving no time for romantic entanglements. After his fall from grace and subsequent amnesia, the topic of marriage was never raised. Nearly a year later, with his memory restored, his father naturally sought a daughter-in-law for him.

Before this, the most worried was not his biological father but Wang Po. Thinking of Zhen Qian’s mother’s death and his lost memory, Wang Po felt guilty about the lack of offspring to honor the deceased. Her hair turned white overnight, and countless Taoist priests and monks were invited to the household.

Fortunately, the Buddha’s grace healed Zhen Qian’s amnesia, lifting his spirits. He eagerly pressed Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei to bear him children first.

Page 2/3

Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei were equally anxious for him to father children. Yet these two young maids were reluctant to bear offspring themselves; they insisted that any children must be born by a concubine, not a maid. After over half a year of intimacy, not a single pregnancy had resulted.

In truth, Xiao Zhu and Xiao Mei were more impatient than anyone. Ever since their status was elevated to free women last month, they lost all motivation for work, focusing solely on conceiving.

They had not wanted children before, but now the desire was keen. Yet such matters were never so simple; pregnancy could not be summoned by will alone.

Wang Po, perplexed by their apparent misfortune, brought home a Hu Ji woman, secretly harboring another scheme.

This was roughly the situation, and Zhen Qian could only smile bitterly. He himself was in no rush, yet Wang Po was beside herself with worry.

When Lucia saw Zhen Qian’s face suddenly flush with color, her entire body seemed to lose its vitality, like a doll whose power had been cut off—motionless and stunned.

“Last night… it was you!”

“Mm… Your servant helped dress you, my lord.”

“Why do I feel like a virgin? I’ve been with women before,” Zhen Qian thought, cursing himself for lacking the demeanor of a family head. Why was he nervous and shy with his own maid? This was a disgrace to the great Tang family!

“Come here…” Zhen Qian beckoned to Lucia, quickly regaining his composure. Since he liked this Hu Ji woman, there was no need to hide it as if ashamed: “Do you want to stay with me?”

“Ah… stay with you?” Lucia clearly did not yet grasp the subtlety of the Tang language and what he meant. But Zhen Qian had no patience for subtlety. He pulled her into his arms, their fragrant lips pressing tightly together.

Lucia tried to resist, but soon her whole body went limp, as if her spine had been drained of strength. Zhen Qian forcefully pinned her to the bed. Suddenly, a pair of snow-white legs appeared before him—a lamb to a hungry tiger—he pounced upon the helpless white lamb in his embrace.

Last night’s confused union had blossomed into this, and now desire stirred once more. How could he resist?

Page 3/3

After their passionate encounter, Zhen Qian held the utterly relaxed Lucia in his arms, a satisfied smile playing across his face. The cruel feudal society had its perks: no mortgage to repay, no luxury cars to impress with, no pretense of being a wealthy second generation, no need to feign refinement or status—just direct and simple. He liked it.

Lucia’s delicate face bloomed like a flower, her breath fragrant as orchids. After Zhen Qian’s fondling, she no longer felt restrained, instead playfully punching his chest like raindrops, “You… bad…!”

Men who are a little bad are loved by women!

In ancient times, a man who liked a woman simply knocked her out cold and dragged her back to his cave; Zhen Qian was precisely that kind of man.

He knew Lucia must harbor many secrets, but regrettably, he did not understand Latin. “From now on, live well with the Zhen family. This is your home in the Tang dynasty. No one here will bully you…”

“My lord… @#￥%&…” Lucia, flustered, spouted words no one could understand.

“Learn good Tang language! Your good life in the Tang dynasty is just beginning, understand?”

A person’s ability to learn rapidly in a foreign environment is remarkable. Many modern Chinese who barely speak English endure harsh years in America, returning fluent in foreign tongues; environment changes one’s life.

Just as Zhen Qian’s fingers moved skillfully, a voice came from outside the door: “Young master, the Japanese envoy Fujiwara Shuo Xiong has come to pay a visit. Shall I receive him?”

“Those pestilential devils… why are they back again?”

Zhen Qian was deeply reluctant but did not want to provoke an international incident. Ancient emperors cared greatly about face; foreign envoys’ visits brought great prestige. He had no desire to spoil the occasion. Moreover, the visitors came politely, without weapons. It was impossible for him to refuse their audience.