WSMTATMC C16

Chapter 16

Time slipped by and soon it was the eighth month.

During this period, Li Shi went to the mountain temple to worship the Buddha almost every day, always taking Madam Tian along. Each time Madam Tian tried to persuade her to donate incense money, Li Shi brushed it off with the excuse that her son-in-law wouldn’t allow it. Deep inside, she was beginning to suspect that Madam Tian had some personal arrangement with the temple.

After the midday vegetarian meal, Li Shi went to a meditation room to rest. Madam Tian slipped out to meet with the monk she’d previously split the donations with, and the two began chatting idly.

“How come your madam hasn’t donated anything on these last visits?”

“Don’t mention it. The house changed hands — the money is now controlled by the new son-in-law, and madam doesn’t dare donate.”

“Ohh… is that so? Why don’t you ask your young master if he worships Buddha? Tell him to come up the mountain and donate a bit.”

Madam Tian spat. “Persuade him? Impossible. That little ge’er has his own mind about things. Not long ago he even had our madam invite a little Guanyin statue back for home worship. Looks like there’ll be no split to be had in the future~”

Neither noticed Li Shi standing behind a pillar nearby, clutching her handkerchief and grinding her teeth. No wonder Madam Tian kept urging her to worship — all those years of incense donations had just fattened these two!

“Madam Tian! Madam Tian!”

“Yes?” Madam Tian jumped, then hurried back. “What is it, Madam?”

“I had a dream just now — it startled me so badly I woke with my heart pounding.”

“What did you dream?”

“I dreamed I’d raised a dog, feeding it the best food and drink… only for the beast to turn around and bite me.”

“Oh dear, that’s an ominous dream. Madam should donate some incense money so Master can perform a rite to dispel it.”

Li Shi almost laughed in rage. People without shame truly are invincible.

“In that case, let’s donate one string¹ — we can’t be accused of eating here for free.”

“Isn’t one string a bit too little?”

“I didn’t bring much money this time. Next time will do.” Madam Tian took the money, face dark, and stalked out.

In the back courtyard, Chen Qingyan was pushing his wooden wheelchair around to exercise.

He was anxious now — ever since hearing that his second uncle wished to kill him, he’d risen before dawn every day to practice. Now he could make it once around the courtyard before tiring.

“Rest a bit — your clothes are soaked,” Wang Ying called from the vegetable garden, biting into a tomato.

“Not tired. One more round.”

But the more Chen Qingyan pushed, the heavier each step became. Sweat ran from his brow into his eyes, making him hiss in pain.

Wang Ying quickly fetched a handkerchief to wipe it away. Their faces were so close that Chen Qingyan, glancing down, caught sight of Wang Ying’s still-damp lips from the tomato, a sudden flutter in his chest. He turned his head aside. “No need to wipe.”

“No need to rush. When the cart reaches the mountain road, it will naturally find its way. Since we’ve prepared, we aren’t afraid of him making a move.”

“This all began because of me,” Chen Qingyan said. “If I hadn’t been ill so long, Second Uncle wouldn’t dare covet our estate. If I don’t recover fully, someone else will come one day.”

“There we go — a bit of manly resolve.”

Chen Qingyan blushed. “Noisy.”

“Hold on.” Wang Ying walked to the willow tree, cut a few leafy switches, and quickly wove a ring, placing it on Chen Qingyan’s head.

“What’s this?”

“For shade. My grandfather used to make them for me when I was little — works well, doesn’t it?” He made one for himself too, shaking his head to settle it.

“How undignified.”

“Suit yourself — bake in the sun then.”

But Chen Qingyan didn’t take it off. His lips curved slightly; it was, in fact, quite effective against the sun.

By afternoon, the sky had turned heavy and dark — rain was coming.

Li Shi and Madam Tian hurried down the mountain, but halfway they were caught in the downpour.

Water poured through the gaps in the cart canopy, soaking their clothes.

Madam Tian cursed the heavens while holding a cloak over Li Shi. Usually, Li Shi would tell her not to overexert herself, but today she made her hold it all the way home, leaving the woman soaked and aching in both arms.

She thought she’d get to go home and dry off — but Li Shi claimed a headache and told her to stay the night and tend her. Madam Tian seethed silently.

While changing clothes, the packet of arsenic she kept hidden in her bosom suddenly fell out, making her jump. She hastily shoved it back — then, as if deciding something, made her way toward the kitchen.

Because of the rain, dinner was taken separately. Chen Bo brought the back courtyard’s meal from the kitchen.

As usual, Wang Ying tested every dish with a silver hairpin. When it touched the tonic soup Chen Qingyan often drank, the silver turned black.

Krr-rrackkk! — Thunder boomed, making them both flinch. The strike had come sooner than expected.

“What do we do now?”

Wang Ying forced himself to stay calm. “Don’t panic. First, pour it out.”

“Chen Bo!”

“Yes, Young Master?”

“Kill the chicken I bought the other day — bring a bowl of its blood.” This was a bird Wang Ying had secretly purchased and kept in the backyard, known to no one else.

Moments later, Chen Bo returned with a bowl of blood. “Here it is.”

Wang Ying dabbed some on his finger to smear on Chen Qingyan’s lips, pouring the rest onto the ground.

“Now fetch the physician — say Eldest Young Master vomited blood.”

“Yes!” Chen Bo already knew about the feigned-death plan and hurried off.

Wang Ying helped Chen Qingyan to bed. “The next few days will be hard on you.”

“It’s fine — only lying here. You and Mother will have the harder work with the funeral and dealing with Chen Biao.”

“That’s not much. It’s just that once the bow is drawn, there’s no turning back — your Second Uncle’s whole family will likely end up in prison.”

“They’ve already tried to kill me — if I repaid kindness for hatred, I’d be no better than a beast. They must pay the price.”

“Good. Then we’ll proceed as planned.”

Word of his sudden “bloody collapse” spread quickly through the Chen compound. Li Shi ran barefoot to his room. Seeing the blood everywhere, her face went pale; had she not known beforehand it was fake, she might have fainted.

Madam Tian, too, was shocked, clutching her chest and chanting “Amitabha” — the debt was Chen Biao’s, not hers, she told herself. She hadn’t expected the poison to work so fast, taking effect in less than half an hour.

“Qingyan!” Li Shi knelt at the bed, tears streaming at the sight of his frail face. Even knowing it was staged, it tore at her heart.

Wang Ying also dabbed at his eyes — with a handkerchief smeared in ginger juice, making his eyes water freely. “He was fine this afternoon. After the meal, he clutched his stomach and coughed up blood, then fainted.”

“The physician — has one been called?”

“Chen Bo has gone.”

Qingyun and Qingsong entered, freezing at the sight, until Wang Ying winked at them — then they relaxed. The plan was on.

A quarter-hour later, Chen Bo returned with the physician.

Wang Ying cleared the room of others, leaving only Li Shi and the two children.

The old doctor took Chen Qingyan’s pulse, frowning in puzzlement.

“How is he?”

“Though weak, his pulse is strong — not that of one near death…”

Wang Ying slipped him two taels of silver. “Thank you for coming so late. If anyone asks about my husband’s health, you need only shake your head and sigh.”

Free silver was hard to refuse; the doctor agreed readily.

Qingyun burst into tears. “Brother, wake up! What will we do without you?”

She had quite a knack for drama.

Hearing the crying, Madam Tian felt sure it had worked. She made an excuse to visit the privy, then slipped out and ran home.

In Eastdown Alley, Liuzi slogged through the mud to knock on Chen Biao’s gate.

After a while, Qingling opened. “Liuzi — this late?”

“I’ve come to bring Second Master and the young masters good news!”

Inside, the lamps were still lit. Chen Biao’s eyes lit up. “Chen Qingyan is finished?”

“My mother saw it herself — vomited blood all over the floor. They called the doctor, but sent him away quick. It’s hopeless.”

Chen Biao slapped his thigh in glee. “Excellent! About time he died. I thought the weakling would be gone before New Year, but Li Shi even went through with a chongxi² — all for nothing!”

Under Wu dynasty custom, if a household had no adult male heir, a brother could step in to run the family business — which meant that with Qingyan dead, Biao could inherit the main branch’s estate outright.

“All right — go home. I’ll visit tomorrow to see how things stand.”

“Don’t forget your promise to me, Second Master.”

“Of course.”

“That’s good — I’ll offer congratulations in advance!”

When he’d gone, Qingfeng sneered. “Father, are you really giving him half the fields? He’s just a lowborn servant.”

“Just to pacify him. Once it’s done, send them to work the manor fields. If they talk, beat them to death.”

“As it should be!”

“Enough talk. Pack up — we’re going to the main house in the morning.”