WSMTATMC C18

Chapter 18

“What… what should we do?” Li Shi was beside herself with anxiety. If her sister-in-law woke up and told Chen Biao what she had seen, their entire plan would be for nothing.

Wang Ying shot a glare at the two children who were snickering to themselves, then turned to reassure Li Shi. “Mother, stay by Aunt’s side. If she wakes up and asks questions, swear up and down she’s mistaken.”

“Yes!” Li Shi nodded quickly in agreement.

“If she tries to come back to the mourning hall to ‘check again,’ stop her at all costs. Tell her Qingyan died in unrest and vomited a lot of blood — throw in your suspicion that someone poisoned him.”

“Sister-in-law, what about the two of us?” Qingyun grabbed her younger brother’s arm, eyes gleaming with excitement.

“You two stay put and burn paper offerings quietly. Cry like you mean it.”

“Alright!” The two children scampered back to the hall to tend the offerings. Just then Chen Biao came striding in from outside. “I heard Old Third is back?”

Li Shi stammered, “Y-yes… She was so overcome at the sight of Qingyan, she fainted. She’s resting in the west wing now.”

Chen Biao curled his lip and turned away. He had no affection for his younger sister; when their elder brother died years ago, he’d gone to borrow money and been refused — worse, she’d scolded him. He thought her marriage into the county made her arrogant, and with only two ge’er children and no strong in-laws, her life would deteriorate soon enough.

As the elder left, the younger arrived.

Chen Qingfeng — lately a frequent visitor — came by so often that Chen Qingyan barely dared to go to the latrine for fear of running into him.

“Wang Ying, here you are! I’ve been looking for you.”

“Does Eldest Cousin need something from me?”

“At noon I saw you hadn’t eaten much. I was out and bought a box of pastries — here, for you.”

“Thank you, Cousin, but I’m not hungry.” The reason he’d eaten little earlier was that he’d quietly brought food to the mourning hall to eat with the “deceased” Qingyan; he was full even now.

Qingfeng assumed he was shy, and forcibly pressed the box into his hands. “How could you not be hungry? Take it, fill your stomach.”

Wang Ying’s mouth twitched. Offering gifts for no reason — he’s up to no good. What exactly is this guy after?

Qingfeng’s eyes roamed over Wang Ying lewdly, noting the full curve of his rear beneath his robe. He swallowed discreetly.

“Have you thought about what to do now that Qingyan is gone?”

“I’ll help Mother raise my younger siblings. Haven’t thought further.”

“You’re only eighteen — your best years. Planning to be a widow for life?”

“Why not.” Wang Ying had no intention of marrying another man; mentally, he was a straight male.

“You’re still young, you don’t understand. When you’re older, you’ll regret it.”

And what, exactly, has my regret got to do with you? thought Wang Ying.

“Cousin cares for you. If you change your mind, come find me.” Leaving what he thought was a suave parting line, Qingfeng sauntered off.

In the coffin, Qingyan could no longer lie still. As soon as the man left, he sat up. “The nerve of that cur!”

“Lie back down before someone sees you.” Wang Ying quickly pressed him flat again.

Face twisted in anger, Qingyan growled, “Chen Qingfeng is vile and a degenerate gambler. Don’t believe a word he says.”

“I’m not stupid — why would I listen to him?”

The more Qingyan thought on it, the angrier he became. His “body” wasn’t even cold, and Qingfeng was already coveting his husband — worse than a beast!

“Stay away from him. He’s up to no good.”

“It’s fine — he’s only got seven fingers left. If it came to a fight, I might beat him.”

“You…” Qingyan was rendered speechless by the strange turn of thought, and shut his eyes again in sullen “death.”

It was evening before Third Aunt woke. Seeing Li Shi beside her doing needlework, she suddenly sat up.

“Sister, you’re awake.”

“Sister-in-law — Yan’er isn’t dead! He’s not dead!”

“You’re confused from grief. Yan’er has passed.”

“But this afternoon, I clearly—”

Li Shi set down her embroidery and sighed. “He must have died restless.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“This is a long story… it begins at Qingyan’s marriage.”

She told of how his health had worsened since an illness the previous year, to the point he couldn’t get out of bed after New Year — how in desperation she had gone to an old Daoist.

The man said Qingyan’s five elements lacked water, but his metal and fire were overabundant, burning up his essence; he needed to marry a water-element bride or ge’er to balance his fate.

“There was nothing else I could do. I spent ten taels to find a ge’er in the village to marry him in a chongxi. It all happened so fast, there was no time to write to you.”

“It’s that mourning ge’er in the hall, isn’t it?”

“Yes — his name is Wang Ying. A good child. Strangely enough, after he came, Qingyan’s health did improve. Lately he could stand again.”

“Then how could he have suddenly…”

Li Shi took out her handkerchief and now cried for real. “I suspect Qingyan was murdered!”

Chen Rong stared. Who would harm a patient recovering from grave illness? And in his own home? Thinking it through, her eyes suddenly widened.

“No… Second Brother couldn’t possibly—”

“You’ve guessed it — you know there’s nothing he wouldn’t do! You don’t know the half of his situation: since your elder brother passed, he’s come to leech off us every month.

“Recently, Qingfeng lost at gambling again and was held by the den for five hundred taels — threatened with losing life and limb. He came to me for silver. Where could I find such a sum? When I refused, he made a scene. My son-in-law defended me; he took offence and tried to strike him. We had no choice but to report to the authorities. Since then, Chen Biao’s family has borne us malice and sworn they’d make us suffer.”

“No — no matter how foolish, Second Brother wouldn’t sink to such depravity!” Chen Rong still wouldn’t believe it. She had been gone from home too long; her impression stopped at their youth. Chen Biao had been unlikeable, but not a monster.

“I know you won’t believe me — it’s only my suspicion. We’ve no proof, and as a widow with orphans to protect, we have no recourse but to rely on him in future.”

The two women clasped hands and wept together in silence.

That night the children were excused from keeping vigil. Back in the mourning hall, Wang Ying sat reading by the ever-burning lamp.

“Careful there — don’t set my book on fire,” Qingyan remarked dryly from the coffin.

“Don’t worry — I’m not blind; I won’t hold it too close.”

Qingyan turned over. “I’m hungry.”

“Didn’t you just eat?”

“Not enough — bring me a pastry.”

“It’s the middle of the night. Where’d I get pastries?”

“Didn’t Chen Qingfeng give you a box? Afraid to share?”

“You’d dare eat something from him? I poured it into the slop bucket. If you want it, dig it out yourself.”

The spark of appetite died instantly. “Good. I wouldn’t eat something from him, anyway.”

“Psycho,” Wang Ying muttered, turning a page.

Knock knock knock — someone rapped at the door.

“Who’s calling so late?” Wang Ying rose to open it, and found… Chen Qingfeng.

These days, Chen Biao’s whole family had moved back into their old compound under the pretext of overseeing the funeral.

“Cousin — what brings you?”

“Just came to check on you.”

“This… isn’t really appropriate—”

Without waiting, Qingfeng squeezed inside, lit an incense stick, planted it in the burner and said airily, “Have you thought over what I said this afternoon?”

“…Huh?” Wang Ying was baffled — what was he supposed to be considering?

Qingfeng suddenly grabbed his hand. “I don’t mind that you’re a widow. Be with me. I can’t give you a formal place, but I’ll see to your needs. If you can have a son, I’ll adopt him to my main wife — you’ll want for nothing.”

The f**…*

Wang Ying was dumbstruck. Had losing those fingers cost him his brain too? He was making up a whole drama by himself!

“Hold on — I don’t recall agreeing to anything.”

“I know you’re shy, too embarrassed to say yes. So I’ll say it for you.”

In the coffin, Qingyan was about to explode. He gave a cough — and at that moment, a draught blew in and snuffed the hall lamp, plunging the room into darkness.

“What—what was that sound?!” Qingfeng’s voice quavered with fear.

Wang Ying dropped to his knees and wailed, “Qingyan… is it you, come back?”

The wind and the cough mingled; in the dark, it sounded terrifying. Qingfeng’s scalp prickled. He bolted, shrieking, “Ghost! Ghost!!”

It scared him badly enough that from then on, he didn’t dare make eyes at Wang Ying again.

Time flew to the seventh day — the day of Qingyan’s “burial.”

At dawn, Wang Ying slipped out to a food shop in town. Soon, a familiar face arrived — the bailiff Huang San.

“About what you asked — your Fourth Master reached Changmen Town yesterday. He should be home this afternoon.”

“Many thanks, Lord Huang!” Wang Ying quickly passed him a tael of silver.

Taking the coin with a grin, Huang said, “You’re too polite. Need anything else done, just say the word.”

“Actually, I do. It’s been chaos at home, and we had a thief in the family — a servant named Tian Liu ran off with money. Please help find him.”

“Will do!” Huang readily agreed. A generous and straightforward master was his favourite client.

With business done, Wang Ying rushed home. The coffin had already been carried into the courtyard under a mourning canopy. In a quarter-hour, the lid would be nailed shut.

Li Shi twisted her handkerchief in agitation. On seeing him, she hurried over. “What do we do now?”

Wang Ying bent close and whispered a few words in her ear.

“The stage is set,” he said with a smile. “Time for the show to start.”