WSMTATMC C145

Chapter 145

The meal did not end until the Hour of Wèi, and the two Qin brothers had both drunk too much, so their servants supported them home.

Several students from the academy also got drunk; Liu Changyi had them taken to an inn to be settled.

The women did not drink wine, only some iced beverages. Qin Furong helped Madam Li and the others into the carriage, holding the shaft as she said, “We’re one family from now on. There aren’t many relatives for you in the prefectural city—treat us as your own kin and come and go often. If anything comes up, just speak.”

“Yes, set your mind at ease.”

“When Wang Ying has time, bring Qingyun and Lin Sui to visit, and bring little Yuanbao too.”

“Understood, Auntie; please go rest.”

Qin Furong waved. “Slow on the road—come often.”

Ershun flicked the whip and the carriage clopped off. Seated within, Madam Li sighed, “The in-law lady is truly warm-hearted, and her temperament is excellent.”

Fang Ling nodded. “Indeed. In those years at Laizhou, most official ladies I met would flatter the high and step on the low, forming little circles where lower status voices had no place; few are as approachable as Madam Qin.”

Madam Li also told Qingyun to collect all the gifts from the elders; those things would be part of her dowry.

Outside the restaurant, Liu Changyi and his father were still seeing guests off; only after all were gone did they take their carriage.

Master Liu had drunk more than usual from joy today; now he felt a bit dizzy and leaned against the carriage wall with eyes closed.

Once aboard, Qin Furong let him rest his head in her lap and kneaded his temples. “Your capacity isn’t what it was—drink less next time.”

“Elder Brother and Second Brother pulled me to drink; could hardly refuse them without losing face.”

Knowing her brothers’ fondness for the bottle, Qin Furong said, “Those two are wine gourds—how could you outdrink them?”

“So I escaped halfway.” Husband and wife couldn’t help but laugh.

Master Liu mentioned Assistant Prefect Zhao. “He was asking after our in-laws today—likely still minding that failed match from before.”

“Right—I never asked why you wouldn’t let our son meet the Zhao family’s daughter.”

Qin Furong had seen the Zhao girl. Good-looking, a bit lively in temperament but nothing serious; the families were well matched on paper. She couldn’t see why her husband had refused the tie.

Master Liu rubbed his brow. “Zhao Ju has an unsteady nature. It’s said that for profit he’ll do anything in private. Tying ourselves to such a house—who knows when we’d be dragged down as well.”

Qin Furong sighed. “So that’s the sort. The Chen family is much better. Our Yi’er studies with their brothers—he even ranked sixteenth in this month’s small exam. Truly proves the saying: close to cinnabar, one is red; close to ink, one is black.”

—

In the seventh month, letters arrived from Shanzhou and Longquan County one after the other.

Fourth Uncle’s letter described Shanzhou’s situation; official business was still busy, and the court intended to reopen the Longxi Tea-and-Salt Ancient Route. This trade road had a history of over three hundred years, starting from the capital, cutting across all of Shanzhou, and extending out to the passes and to places like Loulan, Silla, and Kucha. It had been cut off for more than twenty years by war; if reopened, it would revitalize the entire Shanzhou economy. But the court was split: one faction advocated reopening; the other opposed.

Those in favor were mostly northern officials. Since ancient times, the south’s waterways had made commerce flourish; by contrast, the north had only this one main artery—reopening it would spur northern development. The opposing side argued that reopening the tea-and-salt route would inevitably tear open channels for illicit salt and iron, and the northern tribes’ rise would be only a matter of time. The two sides held their views and were at an impasse; His Majesty was also in a bind. Chen Jing could only wait.

Besides state affairs, the letter wrote of the children. The second, Chen Qingying, was eight this year—an impish little girl. Earlier in spring she caught a chill and took medicine for half a month; the illness passed but left a lingering cough. They remembered an old physician’s cough-specific prescription in Laizhou; could one secure a dose? At the sight of this, Fang Ling’s tears fell. Poor little ones—she could not be by their side to care for them. Madam Li patted her back to soothe her. “Just two more months to endure—once the provincial exam is past, we can return to Shanzhou.”

Fang Ling dabbed her eyes and read on. Son Qinglan had begun primers this year; six after the New Year—just the age to study—and now recognized over a hundred characters. At the end of the letter were a few characters in clumsy hand: “When does Mother return home? Child misses you.” He’d even miswritten a character. Fang Ling laughed through tears; the child had grown—when she left, he still wet the bed, and in a blink he could write.

After reading, she called Chen Guang to ride to Laizhou to find that cough doctor for a prescription; a daughter’s health was no small matter—no root of illness must be left. One man on horseback would be quick—ten-odd days would do—and the prescription could be sent by courier to Shanzhou.

The other letter was from Chen Rong, mainly bearing good news: on the eighteenth of the sixth month, Lin Qiu gave birth again. The delivery was smooth; she suffered little; a healthy boy. From the letter, one could see Chen Rong’s delight. Having birthed two gē’er before, she had endured her in-laws’ side-eyes for more than a decade. Long oppression had made her internalize a preference for sons; now that her son had sired a boy at last, she felt she could breathe, though it was unfair to Lin Qiu.

She wrote that the distance was great; no need to return for the full-month banquet—wait until autumn to meet. She then mentioned Lin Sui, asking how he fared in the prefectural city. Her heart was most with the second child. After all that had happened, she could help little; thankfully the elder sister-in-law’s household had taken him in. She told him to listen to Madam Li and Wang Ying, not to make trouble, to be quick on his feet and help more with chores. If he was uncomfortable with living there, he could come back early; his room was kept. Finally, she asked Wang Ying to keep an eye out in the city for a suitable household to propose a match for Lin Sui.

When Lin Sui returned from the shop that evening, he read the letter and his eyes reddened. Out so long—how could he not miss home. The wheat likely had nearly forgotten him. Unexpectedly, Elder Brother had another child; earlier there had been no mention of a pregnancy—likely because, at that time, he himself had suffered a forced miscarriage, and his brother feared to stir his pain.

But Lin Sui did not plan to return to the county. Out and seeing the world, he realized a gē’er need not only keep house—many were in business. In the prefectural city, for instance, five ready-to-wear shops were owned by gē’er and women—no one dared belittle them. He thought to save more money and, when able, open his own shop—and bring his mother, brother, and brother-in-law to live with him.

Though Chen Rong said he needn’t return, courtesy could not be omitted. On a rest day, Wang Ying and Chen Qingyan discussed the matter, and they decided to prepare a gift to match little Wheat’s full-month present for the new nephew. Wang Ying also bought two bolts of bright-colored silk—soft and suitable for children’s clothes—for Lin Qiu to make new outfits for the two little nephews. Lin Sui also took ten strings from his savings, exchanged them to silver, and sent them along.

—

Mid-seventh month.

The new house was almost in order; with Steward Chen overseeing, Wang Ying was at ease. He checked again in a few days—the yard was cleaned, broken bricks replaced. The eight sea jars were kept—just emptied and washed of mud. Wang Ying planned to buy lotus rhizomes later; by next spring, new lotus would bloom. The roofing tiles were repaired; beams and pillars were varnished against insects and rot. The rooms were newly whitewashed—not as fine as modern walls, but clean and bright.

Besides a set of redwood furniture for the main hall, the other rooms had none. Wang Ying simply built kang (heated brick platforms) in the bedrooms, with only a few guest rooms fitted with wooden beds. Other furniture—five-drawer chests, kang chests, dressing tables—were all to be remade. He commissioned the same carpentry shop that was doing Qingyun’s dowry; total cost was over eighty strings. In a dozen days, it would be done, and they could choose a propitious day to move in.

After the start of autumn, business at the ice shop waned. By day, Wang Ying dropped in occasionally; most days Lin Sui minded the shop alone. A fair-faced young gē’er, alone, easily drew the wrong kind of attention. Diagonally across, the candle-and-incense shop’s boss had the surname Wei—a man in his thirties—who often came over to linger, sitting for half a day. At first, Lin Sui hosted politely, brewing tea each time; but the man grew presumptuous, and today even asked about Lin Sui’s marital status.

“How come I’ve never seen your husband?”

Lin Sui kept his hair in a topknot, and Shopkeeper Wei assumed he was married—since only gē’er wed wore a topknot; unmarried ones wore a “phoenix tail” (a low ponytail). “Dead,” Lin Sui said coldly, then returned behind the counter to his ledgers.

“Dead? So young—was it an accident or illness?”

“What has it to do with you? If you’re not buying ice, please leave.”

“I was only asking. Pitiful that you’re widowed so young. Better follow me—can’t promise much, but at least five strings a month…”

Lin Sui sprang up, furious. “Look at your age—older than my father. You may have no shame, but I do!”

“Heh—touchy, aren’t you? I was only offering because I fancy you. Plenty want my bed; I’m the one unwilling.”

“Get out!” Eyes reddening with anger—how could there be such a shameless man—he snatched the door-bolt and beat the fellow out.

Just then, an acquaintance passed by and saw Wei Changgui clutching his back and cursing. “Yo—Shopkeeper Wei, what happened?”

“Bah—ran into some ungrateful little slut.”

The man assumed things between them and chuckled. “Let it go—don’t get worked up.”

Wei waved and left. He’d thought that was the end of it; unexpectedly, word reached his wife’s ears. The woman, none too clear-headed, thought Lin Sui had seduced her husband and came to make a scene at the shop the next day.

She arrived as Wang Ying and Lin Sui were balancing accounts. Business had been slow; Wang Ying reconciled only every three to five days. As they were counting, a clamor came from the doorway: “Shameless strumpet! Widowed and seducing another woman’s man—look at what you are! Who wants a worn-out shoe used by others!”