WSMTATMC C83

Chapter 83

Wang Ying sat hugging Yuanbao and began some casual talk. “How was your day at the prefectural seat?”

“Master took us to the prefectural academy. We met the great scholar Lu Zhongqi—the very one who wrote ‘曲池荷’ (Curved Pool and Lotus).”

Wang Ying paused in surprise. Qingyan had actually met someone from his own books; it felt a bit unreal.

“Did you speak with him? How old is he?”

“Master Lu is over sixty now, mild and kindly. We’ll return tomorrow to hear his lecture, and Master will also teach a few sessions for the academy’s students.”

As they talked, Yuanbao’s head began to bob like a pecking chick.

Qingyan reached out, took the boy into his arms, and lulled him to sleep. “We met a student at the academy who’s actually from Tianyang County—second cousin was his classmate.”

“What a coincidence.” Wang Ying couldn’t help a note of caution. “He’s a new acquaintance—never harm others, but never let down your guard.”

“I know.” With Zhang Xiu’s fiasco as a cautionary tale, Qingyan would not easily offer his trust again.

“By the way, Mother has started looking into matches for Qingyun these days.”

Qingyan frowned slightly. “Starting so soon?”

“It’s not early. Once the New Year passed, Qingyun turned fifteen.” By local custom, girls could be betrothed at fifteen, and after the coming-of-age ceremony at sixteen, they could marry.

Though Wang Ying disliked the thought of Qingyun marrying so soon, town boys and girls alike did the same, and waiting might mean missing a good match.

“Tell Mother there’s no need to rush. We can settle it when I return from the study tour.”

Wang Ying nodded. “She isn’t planning to settle anything immediately—just looking. A few matchmakers came calling and that got her thinking.”

“We’ll wait. Next year, Qinghuai and I will sit the county and provincial exams. If I pass into the juren, it will help find her a fine match.”

“Alright, I’ll tell her tomorrow.”

They stayed until their time in the field was nearly spent, then left. Wang Ying gently laid the child back on the kang bed and tucked him in.

Even in sleep, Yuanbao gave little sobs, mumbling, “Ah Fu… Yuanbao knows he was wrong.”

Regret pricked Wang Ying again—he wanted to punch himself. The boy was so little; why had he frightened him?

Still, the joint stern talk had worked. Yuanbao no longer dared to sneak into the experimental field alone.

Early next morning, Wang Ying first went to the front yard and summoned the two little attendants, instructing them to keep yesterday’s matter strictly private. A careless word could spread, and ill-intentioned ears might twist it against Yuanbao.

Chunsheng remained as blankly bewildered as the night before—he barely remembered anything beyond the instant the young master suddenly vanished; panic had wiped his mind and the rest was a blur.

Mutou, however, had more social sense. “Langjun, I didn’t see anything yesterday.”

Wang Ying gave him an approving glance. “Good child. At noon, I’ll have Aunt Chen stew meat for you two.”

The boys didn’t dwell on the matter; their faces lit up in smiles. Since arriving at the Chen home, both had visibly plumped up—especially Mutou, who had been half-starved. He hadn’t had a full meal since his grandmother died. Now he ate his fill daily, with meat every few days; life was almost too good, and he was even shooting up in height.

After sending the boys to the back courtyard to play with Yuanbao, Wang Ying went to Madam Li’s room.

“Mother, are you up?”

“Come in.” Madam Li had been up for a while—sleep grows sparse at her age. She sat on the kang, cutting cloth for Yuanbao’s summer clothes.

“You’re just in time—thread this needle for me. I’ve tried a few times and couldn’t manage.”

Wang Ying sat beside her and threaded the needle. “Mother, there’s something I wanted to discuss.”

“What is it?”

“About Qingyun’s marriage—please don’t rush. Qingyan will soon be eligible for the exams. If he passes into juren, it will help find her a better match.”

Madam Li set down the scissors. “I’ve thought of that too, but Qingyun’s not young. Girls her age are mostly already betrothed. If Qingyan fails, wouldn’t we have held her back?”

He could understand her worries. Parents always want a good marriage for their children—especially daughters, for whom marriage is like a second birth. Marry well and enjoy a lifetime of mutual respect and happiness; marry poorly—like Third Aunt had—and life could be ruined.

“I’ll keep looking. If a suitable family appears, we can agree; if not, we’ll wait until Qingyan finishes the exams.”

Just then, Qingyun herself came in. “Mother, sister-in-law—what are you talking about?”

“Your marriage.”

Qingyun blushed. “Sister-in-law, don’t tease me.”

Madam Li said, “A matchmaker recently mentioned the second son of the Feng family in town—one year older than you. Do you remember him?”

Qingyun remembered—every winter, the boy had a runny nose, his coat sleeves shiny with snot. The children had nicknamed him ‘Snot Lad.’

“Snot Lad? I won’t marry him!”

“Don’t be foolish. He doesn’t have a runny nose now. I hear he’s helping his father in the cloth shop.”

“I don’t want to—no—”

Madam Li lightly tapped her. “Marriage can’t be just to please us. And his mother keeps a filthy house—like buying a pig and checking the pen first. If you marry there—”

Wang Ying couldn’t help laughing; Qingyun broke into giggles.

Madam Li eventually got her breath back. “Another is Sun family’s eldest lad—about your age, studying now. But he looks like the old longevity god—big forehead.”

“Goodness—hahaha…” Qingyun clutched her belly with laughter.

Madam Li wasn’t being catty—the boy really did have a large brow and high hairline; the high topknot men wore only made it more obvious. His mother often boasted of his “absolute cleverness,” saying he would surely top the imperial list one day.

Madam Li named a few more lads, but none seemed to match her daughter. It’s like the saying goes: one’s own child always looks the best, one’s own crops always the worst.

“We’ll keep looking. Your sister-in-law says there’s no rush to set the betrothal—wait till your brother passes into juren and find a good family.”

Qingyun’s cheeks flushed red as she lowered her head. “I’ll do as Mother and sister-in-law decide.”

Wang Ying smiled, remembering when he’d first married into the family—Qingyun had been half a child, but in a blink she’d grown into a young lady.

—

In the fourth month, Chen Rong returned with Lin Sui. He was the same age as Qingyun and at the right age to discuss marriage. A matchmaker happened to call, and Chen Rong found a son-in-law in the county—so that the brothers would live near, able to help each other.

Madam Li asked, “So Sui’er’s marriage is settled?”

“Yes. A Huang family in town—merchants, with two shops. After the new year next year, we’ll pick an auspicious day to marry.”

Madam Li took Lin Sui’s hand. “You’re willing to let him go? Soon it’ll be our turn to marry off the second one.”

“It’s not that I’m willing. Sons grow up and won’t be kept, and if I cling, they’ll grow resentful. Better to marry both brothers and have a quiet life.”

Lin Sui shyly lowered his head. He’d seen the Huang family’s second lad; at first, Chen Rong hadn’t been too keen—four sons in the family meant future conflicts over inheritance. But after meeting him and seeing his fine looks and good bearing, Lin Sui was smitten and urged his mother to accept.

“How is little Mai now?” Madam Li asked. “He must be over six months.”

“Exactly six months the day we left,” Chen Rong replied. “He had a bout recently—sores in his mouth, couldn’t drink milk, lost several jin. An old doctor gave a remedy—borneol and indigo ground together and applied inside the mouth—it cleared up. Now he eats and drinks well and regained the weight. With mother-in-law there to care for him, I felt safe to bring Sui’er back.”

“That’s good. I’d hoped Qiu could bring the child back this time.”

“He’s too little to toss about. When he’s bigger, we’ll bring him—he and Yuanbao can play.”

Speaking of Yuanbao, Chen Rong asked, “Where is he? Where’s that rascal gone now?”

Wang Ying said, “Mother found him two playmates. Now that it’s warm, he spends his days digging earthworms and catching crickets in the fields—won’t come back until mealtime.”

“Be careful—watch out for bites from bugs or snakes.”

“Don’t worry,” Madam Li said. “He wears a xiong-huang (realgar) sachet to ward off snakes.”

Just then, three children ran back from the fields. Chunsheng, panting and dripping with sweat, had carried Yuanbao on his back.

“Grandma—look what I caught!” Yuanbao hugged a palm-sized gray rabbit, his little face covered in dirt, a grimy little tabby-cat of a child.

Chen Rong swept him up. “Did you miss your great-aunt? Do you still remember me?”

Yuanbao didn’t; he’d only been a few months old when she left. He tilted his head and stared at her in curiosity.

He looked so much like Chen Qingyan that Chen Rong couldn’t get enough of him; she hurriedly took out a handkerchief and wiped his face clean. “I’m your gu-nai (great-aunt).”

Yuanbao wasn’t shy. He opened wide and called, “Gu-nai!”

“Hey!”

Madam Li grinned and asked him, “Where did you get that rabbit?”

“Mutou big-brother caught it for me.”

Chen Rong glanced at Mutou and Chunsheng. “So you found attendants for him?”

“Yes,” Wang Ying said. “Both are manor children, honest and steady. Chunsheng, Mutou—this is your Third Great-Aunt.”

The boys bowed to Chen Rong. “Greetings to Third Great-Aunt.”

“Up you get,” she said. “Watch Yuanbao carefully; don’t let him get hurt.”

“Yes.”

Yuanbao couldn’t sit still in the house. He ran out clutching the rabbit, and the two boys rushed after him. The adults spoke of Qingyan and the others.

“I heard from Cao Kun they went on a study tour with Master Liang?”

Wang Ying nodded. “They left in the second month. By now they should be in Jizhou, then they’ll head to Laizhou, then take a boat to Jiangnan and return at year’s end, most likely.”

“They’ll be gone so long—it’s worrying.”

Madam Li agreed. “Indeed. But it’s also good to broaden their horizons. Opportunities like this don’t come often.”

“Oh, and there’s something else,” Chen Rong said in a low voice. “Lin Changbin is dead…”

Madam Li was startled. “What! When?”

“Around my little Mai’s full-month. I only heard about it at the New Year. They say he starved to death…”

“What about the child born to that wretch?”

“Also starved. That little thing had no one to feed it; how could it live? They say when the neighbors found the bodies, the child’s belly had sunk in…”(sadness)

They sighed. The child had done no wrong—only to be born into a wretched family and suffer needlessly.

Madam Li murmured a soft Amitabha. “He met his own retribution. At least now no one will come to trouble Qiu again.”