The sky was dark and overcast, as if it was about to rain.
There were many ferocious beasts in the deep mountains, so Yu Tingwan only walked around near the foot of the mountain.
The ground was covered in a thick layer of snow. She had been busy for most of the day and had picked up quite a lot of dry branches. Her hands were frozen purple; she stomped her feet and took out the water gourd hanging at her waist, drank a few sips, and her teeth chattered.
Don’t look at how thin she was, but her strength was not small.
How could she still be that delicate Young Miss Yu who couldn’t even walk properly and shouted she was tired after a short while?
Yu Tingwan tied the dry branches tightly with rope and dragged them all the way back. After walking for some distance, she would stop and rest on the spot.
From afar came a commotion ahead, along with pointing at the mulberry tree while cursing the locust tree.
Yu Tingwan was indifferent and didn’t let it steal even a moment of her attention.
She didn’t know how things were going on Matchmaker Liu’s side.
Wang-Shi should have gone over there by now.
Just as she was thinking this, a shrill scream tore through the sky, piercing Yu Tingwan’s eardrums until they hurt.
“Scram! You bastard! Other people are filial to their birth mother, but look at you, you actually dare to ask me for money!”
Old Lady Wei’s hair was white, she leaned on a walking stick, her figure hunched, and glared fiercely with her eyes: “I have no money, not even a single copper coin will I give you.”
“Mother! This is life-saving money, I’m begging you!”
Wei Shouzhong’s eyes were red with urgency: “I’m not asking for much, just the condolence silver for A’Lang.”
Old Lady Wei was so angry she hit him with her walking stick.
“Even if you treat him, he might not live. Why waste silver! Your wife is being stupid, and you’re being stupid with her?”
“Can’t you just take it as if he already died outside long ago!”
Wei Shouzhong couldn’t care about the pain, and looked at her in disbelief: “He is my own son!”
“Back then he clearly wasn’t of age for conscription, yet he was pushed to go instead. Mother, do you really have no shame?”
Wei Shoucai, who was waiting on the side, quickly came forward to pat their mother’s back and help her catch her breath, then looked toward Wei Shouzhong.
“Say less.”
“Mother is also doing this for your own good. If A’Lang only had a small injury or minor illness, don’t say mother, even I, as the eldest uncle, would be willing to give silver. But he’s already caught the attention of the Yama King.”
[阎王 (Yánwáng): King of Hell in Chinese mythology; “caught the eye” implies close to death.]
Back then, it was he who encouraged Old Lady Wei to go collect the condolence payment.
What’s in Old Lady Wei’s hands—wasn’t that his?
Could it be allowed to be taken away by Wei Shouzhong?
Wei Shouzhong stared straight at him: “In the middle of the night, in your dreams, how do you and mother feel at peace with yourselves?”
He hadn’t calculated the past; it was merely exhaustion and pretending to be confused while knowing the truth. But now that what was lost had been regained, this was clearly Heaven’s mercy!
Old Lady Wei didn’t like the second daughter-in-law, and along with that, didn’t like the second branch’s offspring either.
“What kind of words is Old Second saying now?”
She smiled shrewdly: “Anyway, your eldest brother has many sons, and raising them is also hard. Later, just adopt one to you, it can still provide for you in old age and send you off at the end.”
Wei Shoucai stated his stance: “This matter, your eldest sister-in-law and I already discussed, we have no objections.”
Wei Shouzhong felt as if he had fallen into an ice cellar, his whole body cold. The always-obedient him suddenly let out a cold laugh: “If you won’t give it, I’ll take it myself.”
“If you dare to move, don’t blame me for not recognizing you as my son anymore!”
Wei Shouzhong paused slightly.
But his A’Lang’s life was hanging by a thread.
He thought of that day when A’Lang’s flesh and blood were a mess, the clothes on his body could tear his skin with the slightest pull.
New wounds and old wounds were layered upon each other—it was horrifying to look at. Who knew how much suffering he had endured all these years.
The most helpless was the wound made by a sharp weapon, stabbing from the front of the chest straight through to the back, a bloody hole bigger than a fist. Just stopping the bleeding alone used up more than half of the herbs in Old Man Qian’s house.
Hui-niang had stayed beside him, crying day and night.
If they had to taste the pain of losing a child once more, let alone Hui-niang—even he would go mad.
Thinking of this, all the anger Wei Shouzhong had accumulated over the years completely erupted.
He didn’t dare delay, pushed away Wei Shoucai, and directly kicked open Old Lady Wei’s door and barged in.
“Old Second! You dare!”
No matter how fierce Old Lady Wei was, she was old already. How could she stop a strong, rough farmer? She could only watch as Wei Shouzhong found the money pouch, and in panic clutched her chest: “Are you trying to kill me!”
Yu Tingwan lowered her eyes.
Ah, she really was envious of that Wei Shen.
The wind was blowing hard, and the girl’s back looked thin and weak, walking forward with difficulty and struggle.
In the vast world of heaven and earth, Yu Tingwan was rendered especially small. Her face was frozen pale, without a trace of blood, only the tear mole at the corner of her eye shimmered with delicate luster.
Her footprints were covered by the winding marks left behind from dragging the dry branches.
No one knew how much time had passed, in the howling cold wind faintly mixed her voice.
Different from her usual coldness—fragile and aggrieved.
“But Tingwan’s daddy is the best.”
—
The Hu family’s front gate was half open, and in the courtyard sat an old woman in a dark blue cotton-padded coat, clean and neat without any patches, wearing a very fine silver hairpin on her head. Her white hair was combed neatly, and she looked very proper.
This was the village head’s wife, Li Lian.
Next to her were Wang-Shi, looking like a frost-struck eggplant, and little Xu-Shi.
Snow piled on the branches fell rustling down. Yu Tingwan didn’t dodge in time and got hit squarely. Under everyone’s eyes, she wrapped her cotton-padded coat tightly and sneezed, her nose tip red from the cold and trembling nonstop.
She looked especially pitiful.
After calling out a greeting, Yu Tingwan dragged that big bundle of dry branches into the house. Footsteps sounded from behind—no need to guess who it was.
She said in a low voice, “Does Granny have something to say to me?”
Seeing her trembling as she spoke from the cold, Li Lian casually shut the door, blocking Wang-Shi’s gaze and the howling cold wind from outside.
“Came to have a talk with you.”
The village head scolding and warning Wang-Shi was not for Yu Tingwan’s sake, but for Hu Yaozu.
If the village produced a xiucai, the village head’s face would also shine with glory.
The matter had blown up, and there were so many people at the time. Wang-Shi wanting to sell her niece couldn’t be hidden. It would probably reach Yu Tingwan’s ears before long.
The village head had already played the good guy once, so he might as well go all the way—let her come once to soothe Yu Tingwan’s heart.
Li Lian calmly sized up the young girl in front of her.
She was delicately beautiful in appearance—no wonder Wang-Shi had the thought of sending her off to the Dong family.
The smile on her face deepened a little: “You’re a considerate child. These years, you’ve suffered. Your aunt’s heart isn’t truly bad. If there’s anything not good, just tell me. By seniority, she should call me ‘shen’ [婶, aunt—father’s younger brother’s wife], so it’s within my right to scold her a bit.”
“Your uncle and the others likely won’t make it back for the new year. Without a man at home, nothing can get done. If there’s anything you need help with, don’t hesitate to say so.”
Yu Tingwan pretended not to understand her intention and only looked at her with surprised gratitude.
Li Lian patted her hand and casually asked, “Good child, how old are you now?”
“Seventeen.”
“Then it’s time to be betrothed.”
Li Lian shook her head: “Dazhu really hasn’t done his duty as an uncle, and your aunt is muddle-headed.”
Yu Tingwan looked thoughtful.
Li Lian had, in fact, pointed something out to her.
She was only temporarily staying at the Hu household. She had no home. Sooner or later, she would have to marry.
Rather than living in constant fear of being framed or manipulated by Wang-Shi, it’d be better for her to take the initiative herself.
The way Yu Tingwan looked at Li Lian grew much warmer.
She was especially blunt: “Granny is here to play matchmaker for me?”
As if!
With your background, how many decent families would look at you?
But Li Lian had to save face, and Yu Tingwan’s eyes were something she couldn’t quite handle.
“…Also… alright.”
“Wan Niang, why don’t you tell me—what kind of conditions do you want? That way, I can help keep an eye out. How about someone like your older cousin—gentle and reasonable, a scholarly man?”
What’s so great about a scholarly man? Can’t lift with his hands, can’t carry on his shoulders.
Having poetry and books in his belly brings natural elegance, sure—but that’s just icing on the cake for sons of noble families. For common folk, unless he makes a name through the imperial exams, a few flowery poems won’t protect her.
Father wasn’t like that—tall and strong, even local thugs didn’t dare lay a finger on her or Mother.
Yu Tingwan solemnly said: “I want someone whose fists are hard.”
Li Lian: ???
You really are… resistant to beatings, huh?