WSMTATMC C59

Chapter 59

Both of them were heading toward living a proper life together, and when it came to marriage, the sooner the better.

Old Liang looked through the almanac and picked out a few auspicious days, finally settling on the nearest one—on the sixth day of next month. There was still more than half a month left, just the right amount of time for Dunzi to tidy up his own household.

Because of helping to rear the mules, Dunzi had all along been living in a side courtyard with Elder Chen as his companion.

Now that he was about to marry, of course he could no longer remain in the master’s courtyard. He cleaned up his own three small earthen houses, hired people to re‑thatched the roof, replaced the doors and windows, and inside he modeled it after the side courtyard, laying down two large kangs.

Cuihong, along with her two children, would live there together. Since it was a little crowded, the west room was just right for the children.

The villagers, out of respect for the Chen household, all came to lend a hand. With many people helping, the work was done quickly. Occasionally, someone would tease or jest, but no one dared go too far, after all, Shi Dunzi worked for the master’s family. If they truly angered him, and he complained to the master, that would be trouble none of them could bear.

When the house was more or less ready and the wedding day was approaching, Dunzi took the chance, while goods were being delivered from the town, to purchase two bolts of coarse cloth, and asked Cuihong to make new clothes for himself and the children.

Previously, he had noticed that the clothes she and her daughters wore were patched all over—at least they ought to be married in new garments.

The moment he thought of soon having a wife and children of his own, he felt energy surge through him, cheerful and vigorous; even while driving the cart on the road he began humming a song.

He wasn’t originally from Qingshui Town; back then he had come here following his parents while fleeing famine. His parents died early, and he didn’t even know exactly where his hometown was—he only remembered a rustic folk tune from there.

“Mountains high, waters green—among these hills and rivers I plow the fields and weave the cloth—”1

When he reached Zheng Village and looked from afar, he suddenly saw a crowd gathered around Cuihong’s house. He cracked the whip a few times and hurriedly pulled his cart to a stop.

Jumping down and squeezing into the courtyard, he was shocked to see Cuihong: her hair disheveled, her clothes torn, her face swollen, clutching her two children as she sat crying in the yard.

Shi Dunzi paled in fright and asked, “What happened?!”

A fierce‑looking woman spat on the ground and yelled: “This shameless widow dared to seduce my husband! Watch me tear her face to shreds!”

“I didn’t! It was your husband who tried to bully my daughter, that’s why I fought with him!”

Zheng Youtian, standing at the side, cursed in rage: “Nonsense! Am I that kind of man? Clearly it was you trying to seduce me, and when I refused, you tangled with me!”

The onlookers murmured in surprise, while little Ni’er was so frightened she only cried. The elder sister, with a braver heart, stammered out the events.

“It was clearly him who tried to bully my younger sister! He lured her out with candy, carried her to the firewood pile, and tried to pull down her pants… I was so scared that I called my mother, then we fought with him.”

Once the crowd heard this, their eyes turned to the village headman—never had they thought he could be such a man.

Ashamed into fury, Zheng Youtian snatched up a heavy wooden stick, raising it to strike the mother and daughters. “I’ll make you pay for spewing lies!”

Dunzi rushed forward, shielding them with his body. “You will not hit her!”

“Out of the way! Meddling dog, this isn’t your business!”

In rage, Dunzi threw himself, ramming Zheng Youtian with all his strength and sending him sprawling flat on his back.

Zheng’s relatives present were not about to let that slide—ten or more people swarmed around Dunzi, raining blows on him until someone nearby shouted, “Stop! You’ll kill him!” Only then did the mob disperse. By this time, Dunzi was unconscious, face covered in blood.

Cuihong shrieked in fear, “Somebody call the doctor! Please, someone help us!”

Back at the Chen household, Wang Ying was still muttering wonderingly why Dunzi was so late today, when suddenly there was a loud knock on the gate.

Elder Chen opened the door to find several strangers carrying in the bloodied body of Shi Dunzi. He exclaimed in shock, “Heavens above, what happened?!”

The commotion brought everyone rushing out, startled at the sight.

Elder Chen bent down, calling a few times without response. Placing his hand under Dunzi’s nose, he felt a faint breath. “Still alive!”

Chen Qingyan ordered, “Quick, summon the physician!”

Elder Chen at once hurried to fetch the village doctor. One of the young men who had carried Dunzi over was a relative of Zhang’s, and he recounted the whole event in detail.

“Outrageous!” Wang Ying nearly exploded in anger. To dare bully his people as if he didn’t exist? Even when beating a dog you must look at its owner! To deal such a beating to Dunzi so brazenly—it was as if they didn’t even put him in their eyes at all!

“Qingyan, hurry and call Uncle Chen Xi here!”

“Don’t be upset, I’ll go now.”

Before long, Chen Xi and his son Chen Dashun arrived. On the way they too had heard about the incident and were just as furious. Dashun was sent to gather the village’s menfolk, while they would go to Zheng Village together to demand justice!

Not long after, the physician arrived and administered a few needles of acupuncture. Dunzi roused faintly, though his nose was broken and a large swelling lump stood out on his forehead.

Still, he struggled to get up, wanting to find Zhang Cuihong, but Wang Ying quickly held him down. “You stay home and recover—this matter won’t be left unanswered!”

Ignoring Chen Qingyan’s efforts to stop him, he got onto the mule cart, rallying the men of the village, and went straight to Zheng Village.

Zheng Youtian had for years swaggered about like a bully, certain that after a beating, matters would just pass as they always had. Never did he expect that so soon there would be fierce knocking on his door. His wife asked warily, “Who is it?”

Chen Xi’s voice thundered: “Open up! We need Zheng Youtian!”

The moment the door opened, two or three dozen brawny fellows surged inside. “Where’s Youtian? Come out here!”

Chen Xi marched straight in, yanked the cowering Zheng Youtian out from hiding.

Wang Ying stepped forward.

Zheng Youtian stammered in disbelief: “Who are you? I don’t know what you mean!”

Chen Xi kicked him over. “This here is our Chen household’s master! And the man you beat was our master’s servant!”

Realization dawning, Zheng Youtian scrambled to flatter and plead: “Ah! Misunderstanding, all a misunderstanding! I swear I didn’t know that fellow was of Master Chen’s household. Otherwise—even if I had lion’s guts or tiger’s courage—I’d never dare touch him! Please forgive me. I’ll pay him money, get him treated, whatever you say—just spare me!”

But Wang Ying had no patience for this. “I’ve no lack of money. What use are your few pitiful coins? Beat him in full measure of what Dunzi suffered!”

At his command, several strapping young men set upon Zheng Youtian, fists pounding. He wailed and cried out: “Wait, I’m the village headman! Our patron is Lord Zheng, a titled gentleman! If you cripple me, none of us will be safe!”

Wang Ying spat, “Go ahead, test whether the Zheng family would risk offending our Chen household just for the likes of you, a petty village head!”

Lord Zheng was merely a gentryman2 who had bought his title, and his family’s wealth was not as great as the Chens’. Madam Zheng was even friends with Madam Chen. Even if a lawsuit were filed, the Zhengs would hardly dare pursue the matter.

By now, the ruckus had drawn a large crowd from Zheng Village. Those who earlier had joined in beating Dunzi turned pale as they saw the Chen men arrive, and slipped quietly away. Bullies though they were, none would dare face off directly against sturdy men.

After half an hour of blows, Zheng Youtian lay barely breathing. Wang Ying finally ordered them to stop.

“Next time before you bully someone, make sure you know whether they can be bullied or not. We’re leaving!”

Chen Qingyan hurried after him onto the cart, thinking to himself that Ying’s temper had grown sharper now that he was pregnant.

Returning home, they found Zhang Cuihong with her two daughters waiting at the gate. She knelt down hastily before Wang Ying: “Thank you, Master, thank you!”

“Get up! Dunzi is badly hurt. In the coming days, I’ll have to trouble you to help care for him.”

Choked with tears, Cuihong replied: “It’s only right—if not for protecting us, he wouldn’t have been beaten like this…”

So mother and daughters moved directly into the Chen village. With people nearby to tend him, Dunzi healed quickly. Upon learning the master had stood up for him, his gratitude was boundless—he vowed that, for the rest of his life, he would work himself like an ox or a horse to repay the household’s kindness!

News of the affair soon spread to town. Not only did the Zhengs not retaliate, they even sent ten strings of cash as compensation. As for Zheng Youtian, he was promptly dismissed from his post as headman and relegated to a mere tenant farmer—the Zheng household wanted no enmity with the Chen family on account of a mere servant.

On the sixth day of the ninth month—an auspicious day for weddings, sacrifices, consecrations, and betrothals—Dunzi and Cuihong married beneath the blessings of their friends and kin.

Their wedding was simple: only two tables of banquet dishes, and a string of firecrackers, and that was all.

Wang Ying and Chen Qingyan, as masters of the household, naturally attended. Old Liang came, as did Qing Song and Qing Huai for the occasion. Also present were Elder Chen and Chen Xi’s family, and Aunt Zhang’s family.

The feast was modest: three meat dishes, three vegetable dishes, and for the staple, dumplings filled with leeks and egg.

No one minded the simplicity. Everyone knew it was hard for these two to come together, especially after such a storm. Dunzi’s face wounds had yet to fully heal, but at least things had turned toward peace.

The happiest of all were undoubtedly the two girls. Dressed in the new outfits their mother had made, they ran gaily about, faces glowing red with delight.

Their mother had told them they now had a father, that they would be well‑fed, well‑clothed, and never again need fear being bullied.

With Dunzi’s wedding settled, Lin Qiu’s wedding day was also drawing near.

Meanwhile, Wang Ying’s belly was growing daily—four months into pregnancy it had begun to show, his old trousers already too tight. One evening he dug out from the chest the trousers made by his third aunt; trying them on, he found them loose and just right.

After bathing, the two went into the experimental orchards, picking peaches to carry into town the next day.

This year’s harvest was especially plentiful: large, round fruits, lovely to look at. Wang Ying stood at the bottom, basket in hand, while Chen Qingyan climbed to pick—between the two of them, their teamwork soon filled the basket.

But as Wang Ying bent down to pick up fallen peaches, he suddenly gave a cry. “Ah!”

“What is it?” Chen Qingyan leapt down anxiously, helping him to sit.

“Nothing serious… it’s just—it felt like something inside my belly moved a bit just now.”

“Let me feel!” Qingyan lifted the hem of his robe, pressing his face to the rounding stomach. He waited a long time, but felt nothing.

“Perhaps I imagined it…” Yet no sooner had he said it than the belly shifted again, a faint ripple under the skin.

Both men froze in wonder.

After a pause, Qingyan murmured in awe: “This—could this be the child moving?”

“It must be.”

The experience of becoming parents was new and astonishing to them both. “Does it hurt?”

Wang Ying shook his head. “No hurt—just strange, like a little kitten scratching lightly inside.”

Qingyan kissed the belly fondly. “Be good, little one, give Father a kick again.”

As if it understood, the baby stirred once more, sending them both into laughter.

notes:

 

1. This short stanza is a folk tune—not a known copyrighted lyric, but a generic rustic ditty the character remembers. 
2. Gentryman (乡绅, Xiangshen) – A status in late imperial China, obtained either through examination or, as here, purchase of a degree/title conferring local prestige.