Doted By The Regent King

Chapter 1658 - 1596: Hidden Truths of the Past

A woman running a household without a mother‑in‑law to help can only rely on herself in everything. There are pros and cons to that: the good part is she doesn’t have to be worn down by a mother‑in‑law and can be the mistress of the house herself; the bad part is that every single thing has to be handled by her own two hands, and she simply can’t split herself into more than one body.

Back then when Madam Zhou was pregnant with that little girl, it was the same: she had to look after her eldest son, manage all the housework, and carry that big belly around. Exhaustion was inevitable.偏偏 at that time Old Scholar Zhou was coming home later and later, until one day she made some food, planning to send it to the school, only to see Old Scholar Zhou hurrying off somewhere.

A woman’s intuition told her something was wrong, so she followed, but she was already near her due date, her pace was slow, and she quickly lost him.

Madam Zhou came back in a huff, and when Old Scholar Zhou returned, she questioned him a few times. Old Scholar Zhou said a student had fallen ill and he’d gone to visit. She didn’t really believe it, but when he was about to swear an oath, she let it drop.

Though she let it drop with her mouth, the seed of suspicion had already been planted in Madam Zhou’s heart, leaving some knots of resentment. On a day of thunder and pouring rain, she suddenly went into labor early.

But that day the rain came down in sheets, thunder crashed loud and close together, and they lived by the mountain, far from the rest of the village. Old Scholar Zhou hadn’t come back. Even if Madam Zhou wanted to call someone, she couldn’t. She could only endure the pain, boil water, and prepare to give birth by herself.

She made the preparations, but her eldest son was crying and wailing without stop. Madam Zhou had to soothe him while enduring the pain in her belly. She was on the verge of going mad, yet the child just wouldn’t come. Only after the rain stopped was the baby finally born—and it was a stillborn child.

That’s right, the child had taken too long to be born, suffocating in the womb. Madam Zhou held the dead infant, sitting on the blood‑soaked bed, feeling as if her heart had turned to ashes.

And just at that moment, Old Scholar Zhou came back holding a child in his arms—that child was Zhou Meiniang.

Madam Zhou hated, she cursed, she beat, but none of it changed anything. Old Scholar Zhou knelt in front of her, begging her to acknowledge that child, saying it was all Heaven’s arrangement.

What can a woman really fight out with her own husband?

Madam Zhou accepted his arrangement and treated the child he had brought back as the daughter she had given birth to, but she refused to nurse her.

In her view, her own daughter was dead; no one had the right to enjoy what should have been hers. She would rather let her milk dry up than feed the child. Old Scholar Zhou had no choice but to go to the village and find a sister‑in‑law who was lactating to nurse her. To outsiders he said Madam Zhou was weak and had no milk, and when that didn’t suffice they added some thin rice gruel.

Old Scholar Zhou truly doted on Zhou Meiniang. He raised her himself, holding her on his knee when she was only two or three, teaching her to read and write hand‑over‑hand. The more Madam Zhou saw this, the more she hated it, never showing Zhou Meiniang a pleasant face.

When she was little and Old Scholar Zhou wasn’t at home, Madam Zhou kept Zhou Meiniang with her but never gave her anything good to eat. The villagers all said she favored sons over daughters, while Madam Zhou could only swallow the bitterness herself.

They knew nothing of the inside story, knew nothing of what she had gone through. She was not favoring sons over daughters; this simply was not her own flesh and blood. She was a bastard who had stolen her daughter’s place.

Madam Zhou’s dislike and lack of regard made Zhou Meiniang’s temperament soft and timid from childhood. Whenever Madam Zhou set her face sternly, she didn’t dare raise any request, terrified of provoking her mother’s disgust.

And Madam Zhou hated her, and hated Old Scholar Zhou as well. Whenever she looked at Zhou Meiniang’s face, she couldn’t help but think of Old Scholar Zhou’s betrayal, and even of her own daughter’s death because of it.

In Madam Zhou’s heart, the reason her daughter died was precisely because she herself had been overworked. If Old Scholar Zhou had been there and called the Midwife over early, how could her daughter have died?