WSMTATMC C37

Chapter 37

Once inside, Madam Li took both Lin Qiu and Lin Sui by the hand, looking them over carefully. “Why, the last time you were here, Sui’er was only so tall—and now you’ve grown into such a fine young man.”

“Qingyun,” she turned to her daughter, “do you remember your two cousins?”

“I do,” the girl nodded seriously, “Elder Cousin Qiu once took me to pick persimmons.”

Lin Qiu flushed shyly. Beside him, his younger brother was livelier: “Then does Cousin Yun remember me?”

“Yes,” she said matter‑of‑factly, “you tried to snatch my persimmon and we had a fight.”

At this, both Madam Li and Chen Rong could not help laughing. They remembered it well—back then the children had been eight or nine. Three years had flown by since, at the time of Chen Father’s funeral when Chen Rong had returned with her sons.

Chen Rong asked now, “Why do I not see Qingsong?”

“He went out to play—he should be back soon.”

At once Chen Qingyan’s expression darkened. “While I was gone only a few days, he’s grown so unruly again.”

Qingyun hastened to explain, “No, no. He studies earnestly every day. Just today he went out for a short while.”

Madam Li summoned a maid, “Go tell the kitchen—Third Aunt has come home with her two boys. Prepare extra dishes.”

Chen Rong waved her hands quickly. “Don’t trouble yourselves so much.”

Madam Li took her hand firmly. “You are back. This is what truly cheers me in my heart. I am alone in this house and idle every day. Now we shall keep each other company.”

“En.”

Before the children she dared not ask what had happened, only drew her into common chatter. “Wang has opened a vegetable shop. From now on, fresh greens for our table will be plenty.”

“I already heard. This child is truly capable—to have courage at so young an age to make his own way. When we were his years, we dared not dream such a thing.”

“Indeed!” Madam Li proudly agreed. “With the household in his hands, I have no concerns. Everything is managed so neatly. These days while he was away, I felt ill at ease.”

Wang Ying blushed crimson. “Mother, don’t praise me so. Any more, and my feet may begin floating off the ground.”

All laughed heartily together.

Before long, dishes were served. Each received a large bowl of meat broth soaked with bread—chicken simmered till tender and flavorful, the bread made of fine flour soft enough for teeth. Beside it came stir‑fried chives with eggs, chilled marinated pork, and another roast chicken.

Having long eaten sparingly, Chen Rong and her sons could not restrain themselves and ate extra helpings.

The past years—for Lin’s accountancy—every coin was pinched. Meat came once a month if that, thin strips stewed to flavor an entire pot. The children’s bellies were forever short of fat and oil.

Wang Ying and Qingyan too ate heartily. Food on the road had been wretched, inn meals a torment; both had grown gaunter.

“Ah, nothing as comfortable as home.” Wang Ying leaned back and belched contentedly.

Madam Li asked with concern, “The journey must have been harsh, exposed to wind and dust?”

“It was tolerable. Only the post‑stations—they reek so terribly, a single night is enough to choke one half to death.”

Qingyan nodded fervently. “Next time, we must bring our own bedding. To wrap oneself in those inn quilts is unbearable.”

“Summer is somewhat better.” Chen Rong explained. “At least once in a while inns wash their covers. Winter, though—it is so hard to dry that a quilt may go unwashed a month.”

“Enough!” Madam Li flapped her hand. “You make me itch just hearing it. I shall have water heated. After supper, each of you goes and scrubs clean.”

After dinner, she began arranging lodgings. “Third Sister, you will sleep with me tonight. Let Qiu and Sui go stay in Qingyun’s courtyard. She has empty rooms fit for guests. Tomorrow, I’ll have the west wing made ready for your long stay.”

The west wing—Chen Rong’s maiden courtyard. At those words her heart warmed, knowing her sister‑in‑law sincerely welcomed her home.

“There is no need for you two to linger.” Madam Li said. “You’ve suffered enough on the road—rest now.”

So Qingyun took her two cousins off to her courtyard to sleep. Among brothers and sister‑cousins, propriety of sexes was less strict.

Wang Ying and Qingyan also excused themselves. They were indeed worn to the bone—days of travel, missed sleep, and the tumult at Lin’s house.

Once they left, Madam Li drew Chen Rong into the inner chamber. “Now tell me—what truly happened?”

“I divorced Lin Zhangbin.”

“Divorced?” she gasped. “For what reason?”

Slowly Chen Rong recounted everything: the mistress, the bastard child, selling his son’s marriage. Madam Li listened, teeth gnashing. “That beast—such vile and shameless acts!”

“I never thought him capable of this. Before, however unreliable, I endured. What marriage has no quarrels? But this… far too much! For that bastard’s sake he would trample my Qiu! Were it not for Wang and Qingyan—ah, if not for them I should never… never have known what to do.”

Madam Li pressed a kerchief to her tears. “Enough, enough. This fault is his alone. You did right to leave. As for Qiu’s marriage, do not worry—I shall help you keep watch. In time, a good match will come.”

“You trouble yourself, Elder Sister.”

“With me there is no such formality. We are one family.”

“En.”

When her mood steadied, Chen Rong said softly, “Yet it is not proper I stay here always. After New Year, I plan to find a house to rent.”

At this Madam Li grew angry. “What nonsense! Is there not room enough here?”

The Chen ancestral home was a three‑courtyard manor, built when Old Master Chen yet lived, so three married sons could house their families. Even with ten in residence, it would not crowd.

“Do not bristle, hear me out.” Chen Rong coaxed. “To live here is no trouble, but food and needs cost money. To eat another’s rice freely is no virtue. Over time, our ties of affection may sour.”

“You and your sons eat but as many as geese. I cannot suffer you to risk yourselves outside! A household without men invites predation—even villains scaling walls at night…”

Her voice faltered; Chen Rong too felt a chill. “Then let us settle thus. I will pay one hundred wen monthly as food expense. Do not refuse—or else I shall move out regardless.”

Madam Li could not withstand her stubbornness. She clasped her hand, eyes wet. “Why such suffering? If your elder brother yet lived, he would scold me even in dreams—say I am blinded by pennies!”

Chen Rong’s nose burned, tears rising. “He went too soon. He cannot care now.”

“Enough of this dreariness. Tomorrow is market‑day. Let us take the children to town, buy them new clothes. Though our streets lack the bustle of county fairs, still the shops are steady. Let me as aunt fulfill my duty.”

Chen Rong did not refuse this time—she already planned to purchase tokens for her nephew and his husband as well.

“Tell me—has it been half a year since Qingyan married? Why is there still no news?”

At this, Madam Li groaned in embarrassment. “Don’t even mention it. Because of that, I nearly caused disaster. Some time ago, noticing no stir between them, I thought to ‘add firewood.’ At the Qiu family’s full‑moon celebration, I obtained some venison. I made soup for them. Who knew venison was so potent? Poor Qingyan, still frail, could not bear the tonic—he burned with fever till he fainted!”

“Heavens! What did you do then?”

“The doctor came—and advised only that the couple… release tension once.”

At that, Chen Rong burst into laughter; Madam Li smacked her arm, but then herself collapsed into giggles. Both women laughed until tears flowed.

“So in the end, you helped them after all.”

“Indeed, did I not!”

Meanwhile, Wang Ying and Qingyan returned to their courtyard. The first thing was a bath. Wang Ying swore he must have lice from the inns, for all day his skin itched unbearably. Qingyan too could not stop scratching scalp and limbs.

They carried clean clothes to the bathhouse, where the copper boiler already steamed water.

“You bathe first. I’ll scrub your back.”

“No, you first,” Qingyan murmured. “You look exhausted. I’ll wait and wash after.”

“Then I shall not be polite.” Wang Ying shed his clothes and slid into the tub. The bathhouse had two chambers, fire‑walls keeping it warm, even a bench to drink tea or read.

Qingyan waited outside until a call came: “Qingyan—help scrub my back.”

“Ah? V‑very well…” Flushed, he rolled up sleeves and entered.

Steam blurred the room. Wang Ying sat with back turned, white skin gleaming.

“There—pig‑soap by your hand. Rub some on and scrub.”

Qingyan swallowed hard. “Good.”

He spread soap along the broad shoulders, rubbing with a cloth. The pale skin pinked beneath his strokes. His breath caught, pulse quickening, heat surging to his cheeks. Though they had lain together before, never had he gazed so openly on the body. The sight shocked his senses, blood draining downward.

“What are you doing, tickling me? Harder!” Wang Ying teased, oblivious.

Behind him, the sound of breath grew ragged. Wondering, Wang Ying turned—only to be seized by the nape and kissed.

Youthful fire, long restrained, ignited at once. Wang Ying twined arms about his neck, answering eagerly. In a sudden motion he yanked Qingyan into the tub.

“Ugh—I have not undressed—”

“No matter. You’ll wash soon enough.”

Locked in embrace, they kissed fiercely, desire swelling, grinding through damp cloth. Qingyan’s mouth found the birthmark at his neck. Sensitive as ever, whenever Qingyan sucked there, Wang Ying trembled limply, powerless.

“Qingyan—ah—don’t—don’t…”

But Qingyan held him still, lips finding his again, tongues entwined in fevered hunger. Water splashed loud as waves about them. When passion peaked, Wang Ying clutched his shoulders, nearly swooning with rapture.

A long while they lingered, until the water cooled. They climbed out, drew fresh, and washed clean, finally returning to their bedchamber.

There, Chen Qingsong awaited eagerly. “Brother! Sister‑in‑law! At last—you’re back! I’ve been waiting forever!”

“Where have you run off to?” Qingyan frowned.

He grinned. “I met a scholar from the private school a while ago—today he invited me to a poetry meet. Brother, Sister‑in‑law, I met a real xiucai! He’s your age, Brother, but with such learning! Just one conversation with him equals ten years of books!”

Qingyan chuckled. “Then you must certainly learn from him. Put your effort into study.”

Qingsong only pouted. “Scholarship needs talent. Compared to him, I’m far behind. Passing the licentiate exam will be difficult.”

“Do not talk such nonsense. Spend less time idling and you can pass.”

Not wanting another lecture, Qingsong scampered off. “I know, I know! You two rest. I’ll go recite my work!”

Only once his brother left did Qingyan realize who he had been describing. At once, his face drained pale as ashes.

notes

• Xiucai (秀才) – licentiate; the lowest degree in the Imperial Exam system, granting social privileges (as explained before). 
• Pig‑soap (猪胰子) – a lye soap made traditionally from pig pancreas or fat, often used in old times for bathing and laundry.