WSMTATMC C46

Chapter 46

Seated together in the mule‑cart, the two clasped hands so tightly that neither could bear to let go.

“In these two days that I was absent—did you manage alone?”

“It was…fine. Only, I missed you terribly.”

Wang Ying chuckled at the unvarnished confession, flicking his forehead with a finger. “Look at you—when did you learn such honeyed words?”

Qingyan blinked with wide eyes. “They are not honeyed words—they are plain truth.”

Their gazes met, and soon they both broke into laughter, joy spilling over, filling the cart. How near was too near? There never seemed enough closeness.

“How is home? My mother’s health?”

“Quite well. Only worried for you. I told her that once our country house is built, we will invite them all to stay a few days.”

Wang Ying paused and added, “Bricks and timber are ordered, within days they’ll be hauled up. After lunch I mean to ask Steward Chen to come—let’s walk together and mark the ground.”

“Good. All as you decide.”

When they reached the estate, the little pup bounded out wagging tail, weaving circles of welcome round their feet. Wang Ying quickly scooped it up, lest they tread on it.

This doglet had been a gift from Chen Xi’s grandson. Of a litter of guard dogs, this was the prettiest, kept aside to present the master.

“Little one(Xiao Yi), tonight you’re blessed—we’ll stew you a bone.”

The puppy seemed to understand, yipping cheerily.

Behind, Chen Bo and Dunzi unloaded goods; Madam Li and Aunt Chen had packed plenty—so much foodstuff that, but for concern over spoilage, they’d have sent a whole pig!

At noon, a great pot of ribs was boiled. Ying had Dunzi send a platter to the steward with message: “Tell him, after eating, come up to discuss the house.”

Soon enough, Chen Xi arrived with Dunzi.

“Have you eaten, Steward? Come take more with us.”

He waved both hands. “I already have. In spring lull, our family eats only two meals a day.”

“Then sit anyway—too much food, it’d be waste.”

Unable to resist, he joined them. “So the young master means to build? Have you chosen a site?”

“North hill, near the warm spring.”

Startled, the steward frowned. “But that lies apart—too distant from the village.”

“Precisely why. Peace is worth the walk.”

After dining, they all walked there. Even from afar one could hear rushing water.

There were three pools in all, one great steaming at nearly fifty degrees, mist curling up like fairyland; two smaller, cooler—thirty to forty. The sulfur in the water meant no snakes or pests even in summer. Another reason Wang Ying fancied it.

“This week, spread word in the village—whoever is free may help. Pay ten cash a day. Let’s have it built before the grain harvest.”

“Pay? Heavens, no! You call, they’ll come!”

“Not without pay. Let them work earnestly. If any slack or cheat—drive them out.”

“Be assured, I’ll keep watch.”

On the path back, their way passed wheat fields. Ying asked: “And the crops we planted?”

The steward frowned. “Rain has been scarce. Since New Year, no snow or rain. Shoots rise still, but if warm days pass dry, yield will suffer.”

“Then irrigate from the river.”

“We did last year, but when drought comes, streams dry. Fields far from river, nothing can be done.”

So even here, drought loomed. Would the hybrid strain “Changfeng No. 3” he had sown endure? If so, next year he’d spread it wider.

The steward proved efficient. That very evening, he summoned villagers. Ten cash a day was fine work in idle season—folk vied for places.

Elderly too decrepit were turned away. Finally, thirty strong men and a few experienced craftsmen were chosen.

By morrow, they began. First, a stone path to the secluded site. Within two days, a two‑meter road lay from village to spring.

Then excavation began.

Wang Ying conceived a two‑story house—but carpenters warned:

“Windows you marked too wide. Winter winds will kill.”

“Then make them smaller.”

“As for two stories—joists must be cypress. Anything less will rot.”

In their age, no steel or concrete—the cost doubled quickly. After consideration, Wang Ying chose simpler:

A grand courtyard—five main rooms, two flanking, side kitchen, and servants’ quarters. Square, solid, stately. Beside it, a pavilion for chess and tea. Hot spring water channeled into bathhouse—what luxury then!

By the eighth day of the third month, bricks arrived. The foundation was laid. Construction commenced!

Back in town—since Lin Qiu’s betrothal to Cao Kun, the latter appeared near every few days.

That morning, when Wang opened the shop, in he strode with a few courier lads. They all knew the story. “Brother! Sister‑in‑law!” they teased.

“Get along! His face is thin—don’t embarrass.”

Lin Qiu blushed scarlet, retreating into the storeroom to sort yesterday’s leftovers.

Cao Kun only scratched his head and laughed, then approached, producing a cloth pouch.

“On my last run to Song County, I met an old stone carver. Had him carve this little sheep for you.”

Qiu’s zodiac was sheep. The thumb‑sized carving, lifelike, made him smile. “Frittering money again.”

“Not at all. I carried a letter for him; he asked no fee.”

Qiu tucked it precious into his pouch, lips twitching in shy delight. “Don’t keep coming, though. Each trip costs days; aren’t you weary?”

“To see you, no weariness.”

He flushed deeper, especially when spotting siblings Qingyun and Sui giggling nearby. “My brother and sister are watching!”

“Let them. What shame in affections?”

He stomped on his foot and fled to the ledger. Cao chuckled, leaving him peace. “I depart again soon, to Yangting. Half a month’s road.”

Timidly, Qiu murmured, “Be careful…safe journey.”

“Yes.” Cao tossed him a money pouch and left with laughs from comrades.

Qiu opened it—over ten taels of silver! He dashed after them, but they were gone, cart rolling. From the back, Cao waved: “Buy whatever pleases! And new spring robes.”

“Truly generous, Second Boss,” his men jeered.

“That’s my betrothed. Shouldn’t he have the best?”

“Not yet wed—and you already coaxing mother‑in‑law?”

Cao grinned wider. “Then turn now—let’s greet her.”

They roared with laughter. Yet as they reached the Chen gate, laughter froze.

For there, outside, stood a man with babe on his back—none other than Lin Zhangbin, long vanished.

“You there! Tell my wife—I am Lin Zhangbin, her husband! Let me in!”

The porter Linzi scowled. “Back where you came. Madam will not see you.”

“She must! I have not glimpsed my own sons in months! Divorce or not, I’m still their father!”

“Stay. I’ll inform within.”

Soon, Chen Rong emerged, standing behind the closed gate. Her voice rang cold: “The separation deed was clear—‘from this day, never meet again.’ Why come now?”

“Ah‑Rong…let me in—”

“Spare me! Do you think you may still call me thus? Begone!”

“You—you wrong me!”

Anger broke her voice. “Wrong? Did you not once try selling our sons, for a mistress’ smile? Now your whore has turned—so you think of us? Roll back to her!”

“I erred…I’ll change. Bring me back. Let Fugui be raised by you as son. Let Qiu marry properly under my roof—come home.”

She nearly laughed. “Still dreaming! You want me to rear your bastard? Get lost, or I’ll have you whipped down the street!”

He pounded the gate in rage, while the babe, hungry, wailed pitifully.

Watching grimly, Cao Kun stepped forward. “You are Lin Zhangbin?”

“And who are you?”

Without answer, Cao struck bluntly, felling him unconscious. He jerked a nod to his men.

“Carry him. Back to county. Let him not darken Mother‑in‑Law’s door again.”

notes

• Ten cash (十文): roughly the wage for common laborer per day—quite decent in slack season. 
• Warm spring 温泉: common in northern China, seen as healthful, also symbolic of wealth and retreat. 
• Separation deed (和离书): legally binding divorce document; once signed, both parties fully severed family relations.