WSMTATMC C62

Chapter 62

According to the customs of the county, the bride’s family also had to attend the groom’s side’s banquet to share in the festivity.

Madam Li and Madam Chen Rong, finding it too exhausting, remained at the old residence, while the others all went together to the new household.

The procession, accompanied by beating drums and gongs, was extraordinarily lively. It was clear that Cao Kun attached great importance to this marriage; whatever could be thought of, he did not overlook. This wedding was considered rather grand by county standards.

After parading through the streets, they finally reached the new residence. Even from afar, they saw a group of porters waiting at the doorway.

“The bridal sedan chair has arrived, quick, set off the firecrackers!”

The crackling sound of firecrackers shot up to the heavens, mingling with the cheers of adults and children welcoming the newlyweds’ return.

Most of those attending the wedding feast were porters and old neighbors. Only a few were relatives of the Cao family.

The Cao family did not have many members. When Cao Kun was six years old, his father passed away, and afterward his mother never remarried, raising him on her own.

For a widow bringing up a child, life was not easy; so most relatives looked down on their poverty and gradually distanced themselves. Only when Cao Kun had become the second-in-command among the foot porters did some relatives take the initiative to curry favor.

Madam Jiang was no fool; she knew perfectly well what such sudden intimacy meant. She simply maintained superficial courtesy. If anyone truly asked her for favors, the old lady would feign ignorance or deflect. Over time, few relatives came knocking.

When the bridal sedan stopped, the ceremonial officiant lifted the curtain of the sedan chair, uttering auspicious words:

“Groom, move your lotus-like steps lightly forth, may blessings shine upon a harmonious hundred-year union.”

Lin Qiu was supported out of the sedan. With the red veil covering his head, he could not see, only feeling someone clasp his hand and lead him forward.

They crossed over the fire basin into the courtyard and proceeded all the way into the main hall for the wedding rites.

Wang Ying, not tall enough and carrying a child in his belly, dared not squeeze forward; he had to tiptoe to glimpse the couple bowing to Heaven and Earth.

Standing protectively by his side, Chen Qingyan felt some regret as he watched the ceremony. “On the day we married, neither did we perform the bowing ceremony, nor did we drink the cross-cup wine. It truly remains a pity.”

Wang Ying teased him, “Wasn’t our marriage originally only for the purpose of warding off misfortune? For us to even drink the wedding wine would have been strange. Besides, when we first met, you were practically eager to drive me away immediately, how could you have shared nuptial wine with me?”

Chen Qingyan gave a wry smile. “So long ago, and yet you still remember.”

After the bowing to Heaven and Earth, Madam Jiang handed Lin Qiu a large red envelope with twenty silver taels inside.

Wang Ying nodded with satisfaction. He admitted he was shallow: the fact that Cao Kun’s mother was generous with money meant she had accepted his Qiu Di. With that, there was nothing more to worry about.

The newlyweds were escorted to the bridal chamber to drink nuptial wine, while the rest of the guests were seated for the feast.

Wang Ying had long been hungry. Ever since becoming pregnant, his appetite grew. In the past, he could manage at most two fist-sized steamed buns in a meal, but now even three did not suffice.

And he became hungry fast. Having only eaten a few snacks this morning before setting out, by now his stomach adhered to his back.

As close family of the bride, they were arranged at the highest seats in the courtyard. The dishes served were the finest—eight in total, six of which were meat dishes, plentiful and hearty. Adults and children alike ate until their mouths glistened with oil.

Two of Cao Kun’s good friends came especially to offer wine. Chen Qingyan and Chen Qinghuai could barely endure one bowl before admitting defeat, quickly waving their hands. “We cannot drink more.”

The men did not insist. Cao Kun had explained beforehand: the bride’s family-in-law were scholarly people, unlike their own rough selves; under no circumstance should they be pressed into drinking.

After the meal, Wang Ying and the others went to the bridal chamber to check on Lin Qiu. Inside, a few young women were accompanying him.

Seeing the bride’s kin approach, one woman of elder years rose and said, “Qiu Di, we will step out first. If you need anything, just call for me.”

“Thank you, Sister-in-law Song.”

Once they left, Lin Qiu immediately beckoned Wang Ying to sit. “Where are my mother and my aunt?”

“They felt too tired and didn’t come; they stayed at the old home.” In truth, Chen Rong had feared her presence would sour the joyful atmosphere, bringing Lin Qiu to tears in such a festive moment.

Lin Qiu appeared faintly desolate. Just married, and already homesick.

Wang Ying rushed to console him: “They will come tomorrow. We must stay in the county town several days before heading back anyway.”

“Good, then tomorrow you must all come stay here!”

Lin Sui spoke to him privately for a while. As evening drew near, the party returned to Cao’s old house.

Madam Li and Madam Chen Rong, already anxious, hurriedly pulled them inside, questioning how the wedding went, whether Qiu’er was treated poorly.

Wang Ying recounted the wedding in detail, emphasizing the grand red envelope from Cao Kun’s mother, exaggerating it enough to make the two women laugh heartily.

“This mother-in-law is forthright indeed, gifting so much silver.”

Madam Li agreed, “Now you see, I said Cao Kun is methodical in his affairs, surely he would not blunder.”

Chen Rong nodded, “At the wedding, did you see… that person?”

Wang Ying knew whom she meant. “No, not once did we glimpse him, from beginning to end.”

“That is good, very good.” Chen Rong breathed easier; she had feared Lin Changbin might cause trouble.

After the festivities, they stayed shortly in the county town. There was still much to be done at home, so they could not linger. Cao Kun arranged for carriages to send them back.

In a blink, the millet in the fields had been harvested. This year’s yield was abundant. Though the rent was still four parts out of ten, the total income exceeded the past years by over twenty bushels, selling at the grain store for nearly one hundred strings of cash.

Wang Ying carefully accounted for it; the remainder would go toward daily household use.

After Lin Qiu left, the family shop also required steady management. Wang Ying feared his mother-in-law would grow anxious if idle, so he gave her something to manage, letting her both stay occupied and earn some savings.

Chen Rong understood her son-in-law’s intentions and was touched; this child was indeed considerate, naturally pleasing to the heart.

Not lingering long in the town market, Wang Ying and the rest returned to the village estate.

When they next saw Liang-lao (Elder Liang), they noticed an extra person at his home—his son, Liang Shuo.

Liang Shuo, twenty-six or twenty-seven years old, sported a mustache, wore a dark cyan Confucian robe, and a futou (headgear for scholars and officials). He looked older than his actual years.

Chen Qinghuai recognized him and greeted excitedly, “Brother Liang, when did you arrive!”

“I’ve been here several days already. Father has mentioned you constantly these last days. And this must be Brother Qingyan.”

Chen Qingyan quickly stepped forward to salute. “I pay my respects, Brother Liang.”

Liang Shuo bent slightly, returning half a courtesy. “No need for formality. I haven’t yet thanked you for helping care for my father these days.”

Inside, Elder Liang was already waiting impatiently. “What are you dawdling for? Hurry in! Let me test whether all your lessons these days haven’t been forgotten in favor of mealtime!”

Everyone exchanged smiles, then hurried inside to recite their texts.

Seizing the chance, Wang Ying went to the experimental field to cut a bunch of fresh leeks, planning to make leek-and-egg dumplings for supper.

He also had Uncle Chen slaughter a chicken, intending to personally cook a mildly spicy dish of “Mouthwatering Chicken.”1

This dish he had been reminded of while eating at a county tavern: they had something similar, though lighter in flavor, lacking the numbing aroma of the later Sichuanese “Mouthwatering Chicken.”

Wang Ying had cooked it several times in his previous life, so replicating it now was not difficult. Alongside it he made twice-cooked pork, stir-fried garlic oil greens, and shredded cucumber salad. Dinner was complete.

As Uncle Chen helped, he fretted, “Master, while with child you ought not to cook. Leave such chores to me.”

“It’s fine. Sitting idle every day makes my bones go soft. Cooking a little moves the limbs.” Mainly, Elder Liang loved his dishes, and after being away, he wanted to please the old man.

At nearly five months of pregnancy, Wang Ying looked little different except slightly plumper. He no longer suffered morning sickness and was energetic, appearing even more radiant than before.

Inside, Elder Liang finished testing his pupils, stroking his beard in satisfaction. “Your studies are solid. In several months the county examination will come; do not dare slack off.”

“Yes, teacher.”

This year, Chen Qinghuai would take the county examination to become a licentiate (xiucai). Chen Qingsong also meant to attempt the child student exam (tongsheng). Only Chen Qingyan looked downcast; he possessed knowledge but no opportunity to employ it, leaving him dejected.

Elder Liang, discerning his hidden thoughts, wrote a line:

“Amid the hundred competing blossoms, none contend with the cold plum, which alone blooms with jade-like petals in the frosty sky.”2

“Take it and study it carefully. When you comprehend it, come back to me. Now—what has Wang-lang cooked? It smells delightful.”

Chen Qingyan, holding the paper, wanted to speak but merely sighed with a faint smile, tucking it into his book.

At table, they learned the young Master Liang had come this way en route to his new post in Changting County, Jizhou.

Unlike his father’s brilliance, Liang Shuo lacked intellect. He had only passed the provincial exam to become a juren last year, and that just at the bottom ranks. He had long been without an official post until this year, when he was belatedly assigned to fill a vacancy as county magistrate. Seizing the chance, he had stopped by to visit his father with evident cheer.

Toward his son, Elder Liang felt both disappointment and resignation. From the beginning, the boy was slower than others. While other children easily memorized the Thousand Character Classic, he stammered painfully through it.

That he passed as a juren at all was sheer dumb luck. Elder Liang never expected too much—just that he could keep a lowly official position and raise his children properly.

Liang Shuo stayed only two days before leaving again. The household soon returned to routine, Elder Liang daily wielding his ruler, instructing his apprentices with strict admonitions.

As time passed, it reached the end of the eleventh month. That year, strangely, the weather was warmer than usual. Winter Solstice had already come, yet no snow had fallen. Worse, wheat sprouts in the fields were already pushing shoots.

This was no good sign. Winter wheat has a particular growing cycle: it must overwinter and then revive in spring. If the shoots grow too tall too soon, they cannot endure the frost and are liable to be injured or killed when the temperature drops, promising a poor harvest.

Seasoned elders already worried, and Wang Ying shared their concern. He quickly gathered the villagers and taught them how to restrain the wheat’s growth.

From his past life’s experience, methods included pressing (rolling), chemical growth control, ridging soil, regulating fertilizer and irrigation, hoeing, and watering before freeze-up.

Since chemical control was not an option, the main methods were pressing and ridging soil.

Pressing meant deliberately damaging the seedlings by trampling or rolling to suppress upward growth, forcing roots to grow deeper, thus preventing spring-kill. This was the simplest and most effective practice.

Pressing, however, required conditions: pressing on sunny days, not rainy; on dry land, not wet; at midday, not morning or evening—to maximize survival rate.

Thus Wang Ying had villagers roll the wheat fields with stone rollers, flattening the tall green shoots.

For overly vigorous shoots, pressing was insufficient; hoeing was needed to cut lateral roots and restrict nutrient absorption.

Everyone busied themselves, but Wang Ying harbored deeper worries. The geography of Jizhou and the capital was similar. If Jizhou met with spring cold, the capital would too.

If that happened, the high-yield wheat seed he had introduced would also see reduced output…

notes:

 

1. Mouthwatering Chicken (口水鸡): A famous Sichuan cold dish, poached chicken dressed in a spicy, numbing, fragrant sauce. The name literally means “saliva chicken” due to its mouthwatering flavor. 
2. Poetic verse: “寒梅不与百花争，独向霜天绽玉英。” —“The cold plum contends not with myriad blossoms, yet alone it blooms with jade-like purity in the frosty sky.” This metaphor often signifies resilience, thriving amid hardship.