WSMTATMC C6

Chapter 6

Amid calls of “shameless” and “improper,” Wang Ying stepped out of the bedchamber, laughter shaking his whole frame. Teasing Chen Qingyan was, so far, one of the few pleasures this new life offered him.

The fellow had clearly read himself stupid — every other sentence was “propriety, righteousness, integrity,” or “how intolerable!” He didn’t even know how to curse properly, and was mortified at the slightest provocation. Absolutely delightful.

It was a pity his body was so frail; who knew if one day he might simply drop dead? The thought was almost regretful.

When Wang Ying arrived at the main hall, the meal was already laid out.

Madam Li inquired a few questions about his family; then, before even touching her food, she pressed her hand to her forehead and retreated to the inner room. The two children looked equally ashen, sitting in silence without a word.

Tentatively, Wang Ying asked, “Did something happen at home?”

Chen Qingyun opened her mouth to speak, but before she could form a word, tears spilled down her cheeks.

Alarmed, Wang Ying hurriedly fetched out a handkerchief and held it out. “It’s all right, slowly now — tell me.”

“This morning, just after you left, Eldest Brother fainted. The physician had to use acupuncture to revive him… wuwuwu…”

Wang Ying froze. When he had come back earlier, Chen Qingyan had seemed in decent spirits — how had things worsened so suddenly?

“Did the physician say anything else?”

She nodded. “He said… my brother likely hasn’t got much time left. At most three months… at shortest, half a month… he told me to prepare myself…” By the end, her words dissolved into sobs.

Beside her, little Sanlang was also wiping at red eyes, and the sight left Wang Ying with a knot in his chest.

“Don’t listen to that physician’s nonsense. I don’t think there’s anything wrong that can’t be mended — with good care, perhaps your brother will recover.”

Both children looked up at him, eyes rimmed in red. “Really?”

“Really. I promise.”

Though Wang Ying had only been in the Chen household for two days, and had little deep bond with them, he still had to think ahead for himself.

If Chen Qingyan died, he — in name — would be widowed, and the family would lose its pillar.

Madam Li was not the sort of temperament to hold up the household; Qingyun and Qingsong were far too young; and most likely, they would have to rely on the Second Master’s branch.

Given that man’s character, it would be a miracle if he didn’t swallow the Chen estates whole — and since Wang Ying had offended him just the day before, there was no assurance he wouldn’t take revenge.

The more he considered, the more anxious he grew. Chen Qingyan absolutely could not be allowed to die.

Back in the bedchamber, Chen Bo was helping Chen Qingyan wash his face. No doubt having heard what had happened during the day, the old man looked stricken with guilt.

The master had entrusted him to take care of the young sir before departing — yet here they were. Unable to care for him properly, and now this…

Hearing Chen Bo’s muffled sniffles, Chen Qingyan sighed. “Go rest.”

“This old servant will stay and attend you tonight.”

“No need. You spent all day driving the cart.”

“I’m not tired — please, let me stay.”

Seeing the two at an impasse, Wang Ying cleared his throat. “Ahem… why don’t I look after him tonight?”

Chen Bo started, then remembered they were now married; it was indeed awkward for him to remain in the room.

“Then I’ll trouble Little Master.”

“Not at all. Go get some rest.”

After seeing him out and shutting the door, Wang Ying dragged a stool to the bedside. “Hey — I hear you fainted today?”

Chen Qingyan gave a cold hum, closed his eyes, and lay back against his pillow, clearly uninterested in responding.

“Was it because you didn’t eat again?”

He opened his eyes in surprise — how had Wang Ying guessed?

“Sometimes I really can’t figure you out. If you actually want to die, I can teach you how — these bed curtains are perfect. Wrap them around your neck and you won’t even have to get up to hang yourself. If you think hanging looks ugly, use those tea cups instead — smash one and cut your wrists, works just as well. Failing that, you could always bash your head in—”

“What exactly are you trying to say?”

Wang Ying’s grin faded into seriousness. “If you want to die, die quickly. Dragging it out like this just makes everyone around you miserable for longer — what’s the point?”

“I haven’t—”

“If you don’t want to die, then take care of yourself. Or do you think a bit of ‘face’ is worth more than your life?”

Chen Qingyan pressed his lips together and said nothing, though a glimmer of moisture flickered in his eyes. “…You wouldn’t understand.”

“I don’t understand how much your ‘face’ weighs, but I do know: if you die, your Second Uncle’s family will move in the very next day, take your house and fields, humiliate your mother, mistreat your younger siblings — maybe even marry off Qingyun as a chongxi³ bride.”

“That’s impossible! I won’t let him!”

“You know your Second Uncle’s nature well enough. And besides, if you’re dead, how will you stop him?”

Fury rose in Chen Qingyan’s chest; his eyes blazed at Wang Ying.

“Don’t glare at me — I’m just telling you what’s coming.”

“And what if I know? I’m already a dying man.”

That half-dead look sparked Wang Ying’s irritation. “So what if you failed the imperial exam once? You can sit it again! I’ve seen people keep trying until they’re fifty or sixty before succeeding.”

“You don’t understand! Do you think I wouldn’t want to sit again if I could? If it were just one failure, would I be like this?” Suddenly, Chen Qingyan sagged back like a deflated bellows. “I can’t take the exams any more. I’ll never be able to…”

His voice choked, and soon sniffles swelled into sobs, until he was weeping aloud — pouring out buried grievance and rage.

Wang Ying worried the crying would make him faint, so he hurried to lift him, settling his head on his shoulder and patting his back.

“Breathe deep. Cry if you need to.”

He wept for nearly fifteen minutes before gradually calming, then pushed Wang Ying away and lay back down, as listless as before.

“You said you can’t sit the exams anymore — what do you mean by that?”

“It’s none of your concern.”

“Come on — we’re married, aren’t we? If you die, I’ll be the one offering you paper money at your grave.”

“…Shameless.”

“Yes, yes — I’m shameless. If you don’t want me as your spouse, we can be sworn brothers instead. I’m a little older than you — you can call me Big Brother.”

Chen Qingyan gave him a strange look. What sort of ge’er talked like this? Could it be all country ge’er were so bold?

He had never told anyone about being unable to sit for the exams, keeping it locked in his heart until it festered. Now, somehow, he felt an urge to speak — but just as he opened his mouth, there came a knock.

“Knock knock — Master, what’s happened?” It was Chen Bo, rushing over at the sound of crying.

“Nothing, nothing — go to bed,” Wang Ying called back.

Once he’d gone, Chen Qingyan refused to say anything more, no matter how Wang Ying coaxed or threatened; he lay there, eyes closed, playing dead.

“Fine — if you don’t want to say, I won’t ask. I know you’re hiding something, but better to live badly than die well. If you die, it’s your mother who’ll be hurt most — if she follows you in grief, all your family’s wealth will just be handed over to others.”

“And besides, not being able to take the exams isn’t the end. You have hands and feet, and you can read and write — you can do other things.”

Chen Qingyan stared. “Other things?”

From the age of six, the exams had been his sole life’s goal — he’d never even imagined another path.

“Like farming. Doesn’t your family have over a hundred mu⁴ of fertile land? Tending the land well is an accomplishment in itself.”

“Farming is for the tenants. Why should I touch it myself?”

“Having others farm and farming yourself are two different things. Watching seeds you plant take root and sprout, leaf and flower, until they bear full fruit — isn’t that a real sense of achievement?”

Chen Qingyan shook his head.

“Well, you wouldn’t understand. Commerce then — or learning a craft. Both are good.”

“Those are lowly trades. How could I stoop to such work?”

That hidebound thinking nearly made Wang Ying choke.

“There’s no such thing as noble or lowly work — only the worth people imagine into it. Southern merchant princes are rich enough to rival nations, and even high officials show them deference. As for craftsmen — the court has a Ministry of Works, whose head ranks second grade, equal to any other minister. How is that lowly?”

Chen Qingyan gaped, stunned such words could come from a rural ge’er.

“How do you know all this?”

Wang Ying stumbled over his words. “Well, there was a private school in our village. When I went up the mountain for firewood, I’d often stop outside and listen to the teacher. Heard lots of things — even learned a fair few characters…”

The explanation seemed plausible enough; in this closed-off era of poor transport, most people never travelled beyond their own region in a lifetime.

Seeing the thoughtful look in the young man’s eyes, Wang Ying knew his words had hit home. He rose, hugged his quilt, and prepared to bed down on the floor.

“You… you could take the bed. The floor’s cold…” Originally, the plan had been to have a west wing room prepared, but with today’s fainting spell and the disorder in the household, it hadn’t been done.

“No need — I’m fine here.” Wang Ying was still mindful of the matter of the experimental field; he dared not change sleeping spots until he knew whether it was tied to a fixed place.

They blew out the lamp and lay down with separate thoughts.

After about the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, white light flashed across Wang Ying’s eyes, and something wet splashed on his face.

Opening his eyes — he was back in the experimental field again. Only this time, black clouds filled the sky overhead, and rain was pouring down!

notes:

1. Face – The concept of personal honour, dignity, and outward reputation, highly valued in traditional Chinese culture.

2. Paper money – Joss paper burned as offerings to the dead in Chinese funerary tradition.

3. Chongxi (冲喜) – A marriage arranged to bring fortune or prolong the life of an ill person, believing the wedding joy will expel bad luck.

4. Mu (亩) – Traditional unit of land measurement; 1 mu ≈ 0.165 acre or 666.7 square metres.