Transmigration Of An Assassin

Jealousy, Jealousy

Paying no mind to Tang Chang An, the couple continued to shop, trying to enjoy their time together. But Tang Chang An's presence seemed to bristle with unspoken tension. He walked up to them with a seemingly warm demeanor and started talking.

"Hello, brother, long time no see," Tang Chang An greeted warmly, his tone and manners polished to perfection.

"Hello to you too," Tang Shushui responded carelessly, barely glancing at him before turning back to browse the hairpins. One, in particular, caught his eye: an exquisite piece adorned with delicate green flowers, each petal almost translucent with hints of pale blue. The center of each flower held a small, lustrous bead that shimmered softly in the sunlight. The slender stems ended in deep blue teardrop-shaped beads that swayed gently with any movement. His eyes lingered on it, admiration and a quiet yearning evident in his gaze.

Tang Chang An noticed his brother's interest in the hairpin and sneered internally. Was this poor brother of his seriously considering buying such an item?

"Can you afford this, brother?" Tang Chang An asked, his tone dripping with false concern. The shopkeeper's eyes flicked between the brothers, a hint of curiosity piqued by the exchange.

Tang Shushui looked up, confusion lacing his voice. "If I couldn't afford it, why would I come in here in the first place?" His question made the shopkeeper rethink, nodding slightly—who would humiliate themselves in such a manner?

Tang Chang An clenched his handkerchief in his pocket, his face remaining a mask of gentle concern. "Oh, I was just worried as your brother. You now have two daughters; you should be more thrifty. A hairpin like that might be too much for a new mom," he continued, his voice dripping with condescension. Many onlookers nodded in agreement, believing that as a mother and wife, one should adopt a more subdued style. His words sparked a deep furrow between Jiang Yanwei's brows.

Jiang Yanwei's eyes flashed with anger, his face hardening. "How does becoming a mother strip my wife of his individuality? Why can't he wear that beautiful hairpin? Must he dress like a nun for the rest of his life just because he's a wife and a mother? If marrying me means he loses who he is, then what is left for me to love?" His voice trembled with a mix of anger and agitation, the passion in his words catching the attention of everyone around.

Many in the crowd exchanged disapproving glances. As a mother and wife, who was Tang Shushui trying to attract? Shouldn't he dress more conservatively and forgo such extravagant accessories?

Tang Chang An, sensing the discomfort and judgment from the crowd, adopted a sad, regretful expression. "I'm just looking out for you, brother. It seems my words have offended you. I apologize," he said, sounding genuinely contrite. His tone drew sympathetic nods from some nearby, especially the aunties, who seemed to side with him.

One of the aunties spoke up, her voice high pitched and condescending. "I think you should listen to your brother. He's just looking out for you. As a mother and wife, you should tone it down a bit." Her comment was met with murmurs of agreement, reinforcing the conventional expectations placed on Tang Shushui as a mother.

"Madam Yun, you can keep your opinions on being a virtuous wife and mother to yourself after all, being virtuous did not help keeping your husband faithful and your backyard empty." Tang Shushui said coldly. He knew this person only because of he entitled attitude when she once paid a visit to his restaurant. She was so rude to the waitresses that she had to be escorted out. This matter was reported to him and he had issued a ban towards her. He could not care less about what this miserable lady had to say about him.

His words had caused Madam Yun's face to head up, "You! As a youngster I am giving you advice you should be grateful!" She seethed.

"Firstly, I did not ask for your advice," Tang Shushui began, his tone icy. "Secondly, if your so-called advice is so effective, why doesn't it work for you? Mr. Yun is notorious for his escapades, so much so that every brothel has him listed as a distinguished customer," he continued, each word cutting through the air like a blade. The other aunties, who had been nodding in agreement moments before, now averted their gazes, not wanting to meet Tang Shushui's fierce eyes. His words left Madam Yun's face pale with anger and embarrassment, her lips trembling as she struggled to form a response.

"You! It doesn't matter what the husband does. You, as his wife, should be exemplary and disciplined, and then he will come around," Madam Yun retorted, her voice shaking with barely contained rage.

Tang Shushui let out a sarcastic laugh, his eyes glinting with contempt. "Yet I am neither exemplary nor disciplined, but my husband has never even glanced at another ger or woman," he replied, his tone dripping with mockery. He paused, letting his words sink in, before continuing with a sneer, "I understand your husband, though. If I came home every day from a long day of work and saw you looking like a nun, I would turn around and go to a brothel too."

His cruel words struck Madam Yun like a physical blow. She trembled, her face flushed with humiliation and fury. Of course, Tang Shushui didn't truly believe that appearance was the root cause of infidelity—he knew that men would cheat regardless of how perfect their wives were. But that didn't stop him from rubbing salt in her wound. His scathing remarks left the other aunties silent, their earlier support evaporating in the face of his ruthless logic.

Madam Yun's eyes filled with unshed tears, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "You... you have no respect," she stammered, her voice breaking.

Tang Shushui simply shrugged, turning his back on her. "Respect is earned, Madam Yun. And so far, you've done nothing to deserve it," he said coldly, his dismissal as final as a slammed door. He reached out and took the hairpin that had caught his eye earlier, turning to the shopkeeper with a calm smile. "I'll take this one, please," he said, his voice gentle once more. The shopkeeper, who had been watching the exchange with wide eyes, nodded quickly and began to wrap the hairpin.

Before going out, Tang Shushui turned back to Tang Chang An, who was seething with anger. Tang Chang An's face was flushed, his eyes narrowed into slits of barely contained rage. He clenched his fists so tightly that his knuckles turned white. Tang Shushui couldn't help but smirk at the sight.

"I feel pity for you," Tang Shushui said, his voice dripping with mockery. "This is the first time I've seen someone as miserable as you."

Tang Chang An's jaw tightened, and a vein pulsed visibly on his forehead. He opened his mouth to retort, but no words came out. 

Tang Shushui looked directly at Tang Chang An, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Your mother did wrong, your father did wrong, and you yourself did wrong, yet you only have one person to blame. Me. I am not your emotional outlet, someone you can use to vent every time you see me."

Tang Chang An's face flushed with anger and shame. Inside, a storm of emotions churned—rage, humiliation, and a deep, gnawing sense of inferiority. He had spent his entire life hearing those whispers, feeling the weight of his illegitimacy, his mother's prostitute roots, and his own lowly status as a prostitute's son. It was always easier to blame Tang Shushui, the legitimate half-brother who seemed to have everything he could never attain.

Tang Shushui continued, his voice unwavering. "I feel pity for you, so I will leave it at that for today. But next time, if you cross me, prepare yourself for the consequences." His words were like icy daggers, piercing through Tang Chang An's fragile defenses.

The sting of Tang Shushui's words was almost unbearable, not just because of their harshness, but because they were true. The recognition of that truth, and the painful contrast between their lives, only deepened Tang Chang An's resentment. He watched as Tang Shushui turned away, taking Yanwei's hand in his. The gesture, so simple and affectionate, was a stark reminder of the love and respect Tang Chang An will never receive, and his horrid treatment as a lowly concubine.

As Tang Shushui and Yanwei walked away, Tang Chang An's mind raced. The jealousy and bitterness that consumed him left no room for any other emotions. He hated Tang Shushui with every fiber of his being, not just for what he had said, but for everything he represented—the life Tang Chang An could never have, and the person he could never be. His fists clenched tightly, his nails digging into his palms as he fought back tears of frustration and humiliation.

As he stood there, his face a mask of barely contained rage, he vowed silently that this wasn't over. He would find a way to turn the tables, to make Tang Shushui feel the same pain and humiliation that had defined his own life. But for now, he could only watch as Tang Shushui and Yanwei disappeared into the crowd.