Every Noble Lady in the Capital Comes to Me to Investigate Her Husband

Meng Zhitang transmigrated into the daughter of a matchmaker. On her sixth day in this world, a marriage proposal the Meng family had just arranged ran into trouble. The prospective groom swore his family owned two shops. She went to see for herself: one wasn’t his, and the other had been mortgaged to a creditor before the engagement. The engagement was called off, but the next day a young woman came to see her in secret. “Miss Meng, I don’t need you to find me a match. I just want to know whether what this man says about himself is true.” From then on, the Meng family’s matchmaking agency added a new service: background checks on prospective matches. Some people called off their engagements after the checks. Some knew their intended was poor but were still willing to marry. Others came from respectable families and had good character, only to discover in the end that they simply couldn’t live together. Gradually, before discussing marriage, young women in the capital began asking a few more questions: Does he have debts? Where will we live after the wedding? Who will control the dowry? Will I still be able to do my own thing after we marry? Later, the words “checked by the Meng family” became more and more valuable. Some even used information from marriage arrangements to negotiate business deals, read people’s intentions, and assess relationships. Only then did Meng Zhitang realize that she’d just wanted people to ask the right questions before getting married. How had she accidentally upended the capital’s traditional marriage customs?