WSMTATMC C58

Chapter 58

When they got home, Wang Ying pulled Chen Qingyan aside and nervously told him everything that happened.

Chen Qingyan rubbed his nose and admitted:

“Actually, Uncle Chen already knows. A while back, when I was storing popsicles inside the experimental field, he caught sight of it. It startled him at first, so I had no choice but to explain it to him.”

Wang Ying frowned with concern.

“Will he tell anyone?”

“No. If anyone in this household would spill such a secret, it would never be Uncle Chen.”

Chen Bo’s loyalty to the Chen family was beyond words. Especially toward Qingyan, his devotion even surpassed what some birth-sons could offer. He was the very embodiment of a “faithful and righteous retainer,” as ancient people would say.

“In that case, alright… I’ll just have to be more careful from now on.”

This was no trivial matter. If others witnessed it, and gossip spread — ten mouths to a hundred, a hundred to a thousand — Wang Ying feared he could be branded a mountain spirit or monster and burned alive.

By the time the eighth month arrived, the weather grew cooler each day. A few days ago, the heat still lingered, but recent autumn showers meant thicker clothing was already needed.

Years ago in Laizhou, near the sea, Liang Boqing had developed joint rheumatism. Every time it turned damp and gloomy, his arms and legs ached.

But since coming to the manor, whether from soaking in the hot springs or sleeping on the heated brick bed, his condition had gradually healed. This year, he hadn’t experienced the pains even once.

On this drizzly autumn day, he sat with his three disciples in the veranda watching the rain, instructing them to each compose a regulated seven-character poem about autumn rain.

Wang Ying couldn’t make heads or tails of such ornate verses. Instead, he pulled out some leftover mutton from the experimental field, thawed it, and set about preparing hotpot.

In such weather, nothing was more satisfying than a steaming pot of broth.

When the rain cleared, the sky suddenly brightened, vast and high, the autumn air crisp and profound.

Millet in the fields had already ripened with full heads. Because Wang Ying had taught the villagers composting techniques that summer, crops were stronger this year than before. Even the weaker fields looked promising.

Once rent and grain tax were deducted, there would still be plenty leftover. Just the thought was enough to bring joy. With full bellies promised ahead, the people’s moods grew lighter, their tempers softened.

Even Auntie Zhang, who usually loved finding fault and picking fights, now greeted everyone with smiles. She would go about praising:

“Our landlord really is fair and just. Compared to other manors, our treatment is leagues better! When the spring wheat yielded poorly, he even reduced our rent by a full tenth. Whereas in neighboring Zheng Manor, they still collected sixty percent. I heard people starved to death there!”

“Exactly so! And it’s not just reduced rent. He also teaches us how to tend the land well. Other gentries hoard such knowledge. But he shares it openly!”

“Plenty of tenant families wish they could move to our manor, but there aren’t openings. At most, they ask if there are unmarried bachelors here, so they can marry off their daughters or ge’er to join the Chen household and enjoy blessings.”

Just then, Dunzi drove past the village entrance on his mule cart returning from town. A few women caught sight of him.

Sister-in-law Liu whispered:

“Eh? Isn’t that Shi Dun? Doesn’t he still lack a wife? Any of you have someone suitable? Maybe we should arrange him a match.”

“Would that really work? He’s always been timid — got bullied easily in the past.”

“Don’t look down on him now. He’s valued close to the landlord. Makes good money caring for livestock and driving carts, still farms his plots, and with the master backing him, who dares bully him anymore?”

This suggestion stirred Auntie Zhang’s thoughts. She had a younger cousin who lived in Zheng Manor next door. The cousin’s husband had died, leaving her widowed.

Because she bore only two young daughters, her in-laws had driven her out. Alone with her girls, she lived miserably, surviving only on the charity of relatives.

But as the saying went: emergency aid can be given, but one cannot rescue someone from chronic poverty. Each family had its own mouths to feed, and couldn’t forever provide. Maybe arranging this match would be a good solution.

That afternoon, Auntie Zhang carried two catties of millet to Zheng Manor.

Her cousin, Zhang Cuihong, was beating laundry when she arrived. After being expelled by her in-laws, she and her daughters lived in an abandoned house at the edge of the village. She cultivated a few plots around it, but yield was meager, most lost to rents. What little remained could hardly feed three mouths. So she washed clothes and chopped firewood for others to survive.

Seeing her cousin, she hurried to wipe her hands.

“Sister, what brings you here?”

“It’s been a while. I thought I’d check on you.”

“Come inside, sit. I’ll get you some water.”

“No need to bother. I’ll just say a few words.”

Still, Cuihong brought out her single intact ceramic bowl, filled with well water and offered it.

“Where are the girls?”

“Nini and Erni are out herding cattle for others. Better than idling at home — at least they get fed a meal.”

Auntie Zhang’s heart twisted. She had six children herself, the youngest only seven, also a girl, yet cherished like a gem, never having lifted a finger for chores.

But Cuihong’s daughters, just seven and five, were already laboring at herding cattle.

“This can’t continue long. Your girls will grow, and without a man guarding the home, they could attract the wrong kind of attention…”

She wasn’t exaggerating. A lone widow with two daughters was a vulnerable target for lustful scoundrels. In Chen Manor, such cases were punished harshly, but elsewhere they weren’t uncommon.

At this, tears welled in Cuihong’s eyes.

“I know all this… but what can I do?”

When her husband first died, there were proposals. But the suitors outright refused because she had children — and what’s more, daughters. Boys were assets, labor for the family. Girls were seen as “money-losers,” raising only to marry out. Few men would accept raising them.

She couldn’t abandon her girls. Back then, Nini was only three, Erni couldn’t even walk yet. She couldn’t watch them starve. And so, she condemned herself to hardship.

Auntie Zhang took her hand.

“Then what if I arranged a match? In our manor there’s a widower, older than you by a few years, short and plain-looking, but honest, hardworking. He serves the landlord faithfully, caring for animals and driving carts. Owns a few acres of thin land too. It would be enough to feed your family of three.”

“Would someone like that accept me?”

“That’s what I’m here to find out. If you’d agree, I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

“Of course I’d agree. Looks can’t fill bellies. As long as he won’t despise me for having two daughters, I’d marry him.”

“Then it’s settled. If it works out, sister, I’ll come to your wedding feast for a drink!”

After sending her cousin off, the girls came back — covered head to toe in mud. Their hair was wild, faces filthy.

Angered, Cuihong grabbed a broom and scolded them harshly:

“Do you want to tire your mother to death? How did your clothes become like this after only half a day?!”

Erni burst into tears, while Nini clung to the broom:

“Mother, don’t hit us. Someone tried to pull down younger sister’s trousers. I dragged her into the mud pond to hide until they left…”

Horrified, Cuihong dropped the broom. She examined them anxiously.

“You’re not hurt, are you?”

“N‑no…”

“Who did this?”

Nini sobbed:

“It was Old Man Zheng who sent us to herd cattle.”

Rage flared through Cuihong. That hypocrite of Zheng Manor — outwardly proper, inwardly vile!

But she lacked the power to seek justice. To accuse him might see her thrown out of even this broken hut. So she could only swallow her anger, tears streaming as she held her daughters close.

That night, after cooking millet porridge with her cousin’s grain gift, she clutched the girls tightly, sleepless, and resolved: tomorrow, she herself would go to Chen Manor, to see this widower.

The next morning, as Wang Ying was finishing breakfast, they received a visitor — Auntie Zhang herself.

“Auntie, come in.”

She demurred shyly. Though usually forthright and sharp-tongued, in front of the landlord she didn’t dare raise her voice. Smiling, she said:

“I actually came to ask about something. You know Old Shi who drives carts for you? Would he want to marry?”

“You mean Uncle Dun?”

“Yes, him. I have a cousin, a widow. Their situations are much alike, so I thought of matching them. But I don’t know if he’d be willing.”

“That’s an important matter. Please, come inside.”

Wang Ying welcomed her warmly, instructing Uncle Chen to fetch Old Shi.

Soon, Dunzi arrived.

“You called me, Master?”

“Auntie Zhang is here. She’d like to propose a marriage for you.”

At once, Shi Dun’s face flushed red. He was thirty-six now. In the village, men his age were already grandfathers. Wouldn’t matchmaking at his age be a laughingstock?

“Forget it… better not.”

Auntie Zhang pressed earnestly:

“No need to give up. My cousin has been widowed four or five years. If not for her daughters, she’d long since remarried. You don’t have sons, she doesn’t have a man, wouldn’t combining lives be perfect?”

“But I’m… I’m not good-looking. Would she even accept me?”

“Who marries for looks! It’s about diligence, it’s about managing a home! Marry, and you’ll have someone to cook warm meals, someone to care if you’re cold or warm. Isn’t that worth it?”

Wang Ying chimed in, “Auntie’s right. Uncle Dun, you must think of your future. If you grow old and can’t work, what then?”

Hearing this, Dunzi softened.

“W‑well… I could meet her, perhaps. If she doesn’t like me, let’s leave it at that — don’t force her.”

Auntie Zhang clapped her hands joyfully.

“Excellent! I’ll speak to her right away and set a date.”

Just then, they stepped outside and, to their surprise, ran into Cuihong standing with her two daughters at the gate.

“Sister, what are you doing here?”

She had followed directions, coming herself to see the man.

“Well, perfect timing.” Auntie Zhang linked her arm. “This is my cousin. Brother Shi, what do you think?”

Shi Dun looked at the woman. Her hair was dry and yellowish, her cheeks sunken from long malnutrition. Yet her clothes were washed clean, her daughters standing neatly by her side.

Before he could speak, she declared firmly:

“I’ve already decided. If you won’t despise me for having two daughters, I’ll marry you.”

Dunzi stammered in reply:

“I… I’d never despise you…”

Despise her? How could he? Who wanted to live alone forever? To toil till night and return home to cold stove and empty bed, not even a bowl of hot water?

The two sorrowful souls looked one another in the eye. In that gaze, each saw the yearning for warmth, family, and home.

Wang Ying concluded cheerfully:

“Then let Master Liang pick an auspicious date. We’ll host a proper feast with several tables to celebrate!”