Chapter 40: Three Years Later
Truly, one did not know whether to call this fortune good or bad.
If she were truly about to give birth prematurely in this desolate wilderness, then encountering a midwife sent her way would be a stroke of immense luck. Yet she truly did not wish to waste such fortune on this charade.
Clearly, Shao Wen'ang outside was also stunned into silence, slow to respond. It was the shop assistant who gave him a push, asking with confusion in his voice: "Young Master, what are you standing there for? Quickly take her upstairs! Your wife has lost all her strength and her voice has gone silent. Dragging this out will suffocate the child to death!"
Song Hemei had no choice. She had to cry out in pain a few more times, then signal Chunhui with her eyes to go out and take a look.
Chunhui, carrying a copper basin filled with chicken blood mixed with water that had been prepared long in advance, went downstairs to the hall below. The shop assistant, who had been so warm-hearted moments before, pinched his nose and stepped back several paces at the sight of the woman's bloody mess.
Chunhui feigned suspicion: "A midwife? Where are you from, and who sent you here? Aiyo, our lady is a person of delicate status. At such a critical time, we dare not let just anyone approach her!"
The midwife was no longer young. Having been hurriedly brought here, only to be met with such suspicion, she felt a surge of anger but couldn't answer truthfully. She could only retort: "You, girl, speak without any sense of propriety. I won't stoop to argue with you. Just let me go upstairs quickly. Premature birth is most dangerous for a woman. If you want your lady to deliver her child safely, stop wasting my time with all this talk."
She caught her breath and prepared to go upstairs, but Chunhui blocked her again: "You speak without any certainty. Could it be you saw that our master is wealthy and came specifically to swindle us!"
The midwife's expression soured immediately. She turned as if to leave, but recalling the silver she had been paid and the entrustment she had received, she had to suppress her temper and continue: "Rest assured, I won't take your money. I've delivered more children than I can count. I am more than capable of ensuring your lady's safety!"
Chunhui wouldn't let her pass. She continued to block her path, finding fault and making motions to throw her out. But the midwife was equally determined to stay, insisting on going upstairs no matter what.
Song Hemei and Suhui took turns crying out in pain until their throats were parched. Growing anxious, Song Hemei decided to stop worrying about whether it would arouse suspicion. She simply nodded to Suhui: "Do it."
Suhui turned around, lifted the sleeping child slightly, and patted his bottom twice. The child whimpered a couple of times and then began to cry loudly. Suhui moved closer to the door: "Young Master, the child is out!"
The midwife was startled by this news. She had never known a child born seven months into pregnancy to arrive so smoothly, nor for its cries to be so lusty and strong.
Shao Wen'ang was already running upstairs, and Chunhui no longer argued with her: "Oh well, since you're here, let a bit of this happy fortune rub off on you. I'm sure our master and lady will reward you handsomely shortly."
Chunhui's words made the midwife's expression turn even uglier. She waved her hand dismissively: "I don't need your reward silver! You really take me for some fortune-hunting beggar?"
She brushed at her clothes as if to dispel bad luck, then turned and walked out the door. But Chunhui chased after her, pressing some loose silver into her hand and saying a few placating words to soothe her. Seeing the midwife's mood improve somewhat, she asked again who had summoned her. The woman still refused to answer.
Helpless, Chunhui had to return. Passing through the hall downstairs, she also handed some loose silver to the shop assistant, who was staring at her intently, before finally going upstairs.
Suhui was holding the child, trying to soothe him. Shao Wen'ang stood at the door, not entering. Chunhui went straight into the room and shook her head gently at Song Hemei: "Strange. I said everything, nice and nasty, but that person just wouldn't open her mouth."
Song Hemei sat on the edge of the bed, her mind a tangle of chaotic thoughts. If the midwife had answered after just a question or two, it would surely have been a coincidence. But with her refusing to say anything no matter how she was questioned, how could one not be suspicious?
That figure in the blue robe from earlier in the day came back to disturb her thoughts again.
Had he overheard Mother's words and worried that she might give birth on the road?
Song Hemei felt she was being overly sentimental. He seemed obedient, but in his heart, he must still despise her. Why else would he take the first chance he got to leave with Minglian, without even a word of farewell?
Yet she also felt that Yu Yeqing was meticulous and kind-hearted. Perhaps he had simply taken pity on her?
She lowered her eyes, wondering when she had become so pathetic, trying to pin even this slight irregularity on Yu Yeqing. What could come of such thoughts? And what outcome did she even want?
To seize him, interrogate him, and force him to come to Linzhou?
Song Hemei's expression soured. This suffocating frustration, once it arose, refused to dissipate. She simply lay back down on the bed: "Take the child out to Shao Wen'ang. I'm sick of the sight of it."
Chunhui and Suhui dared not speak. They lowered their eyes and obeyed the order.
The rest of the clean-up was entirely entrusted to Shao Wen'ang. It was not complete until nearly dawn. They rested there the following day for recuperation, then continued their journey on the third day.
For a woman who had just given birth, rushing on like this was certainly inadvisable. But they could not afford to stay long, lest anyone detect the deception. Yet precisely because of this haste, after they left, the shop assistant was still gossiping in the inn, saying that the young master did not cherish his wife, rushing on the road without any regard for her health.
Once they arrived in Linzhou, Song Hemei no longer needed to wear the headband. She held the child in her own arms, and in the eyes of everyone she met in Linzhou, there was not a single flaw in the story.
The residence had been prepared in advance. Shortly after arriving, Shao Wen'ang had to go socialize with his colleagues. He never made mistakes regarding matters like this. Which scholar in the realm did not long for the day they became an official?
For this very reason, he finally began to look like a proper man. He had subordinates to flatter him, colleagues to speak well of him in public. Even though his disability meant he never joined them in visiting the pleasure quarters, there were still those who praised him for his devoted and upright character.
Yet Song Hemei was forced to associate with the wives of his colleagues. Her family background was utterly unimpressive in the eyes of these ladies. They did not go so far as to mock her, but their treatment of her was markedly cold.
They would voluntarily invite her out to taste tea and listen to music, but the moment she arrived, all their laughter and conversation would cease. They would all look at her for a moment, then exchange glances with each other, covering their mouths as they snickered softly.
When she spoke, no one would ever respond. If the conversation had been lively before, the moment she opened her mouth, everyone would fall silent immediately, not another word spoken.
They had once arranged an outing for a spring walk in the countryside. But when she returned after changing her clothes, she found that everyone else had already left. Her carriage alone remained behind, abandoned and lonely.
To be in such a position, she wasn't exactly heartbroken, but she did find these women utterly baffling. They clearly didn't have to include her, yet they called her every single time, only to treat her coldly every single time. Later, when invitations came, she simply stopped going. But this brought Shao Wen'ang down on her.
He, with his self-proclaimed worldly wisdom, felt she was too hard-natured and unlikeable. He came specifically to lecture her: "Mei'er, those wives of officials come from families of poetry and ritual. They speak of poetry, lyrics, song, and dance, chess, calligraphy, and painting. Naturally, they have nothing in common with you. You need to find some fault in yourself."
Song Hemei sat on the round stool across from him, finding his face exceptionally loathsome.
She suddenly recalled the dream she had when Cao Lingchun died.
If the her in that dream had been lucky enough to survive and had come to this point, seeing this ugly face of Shao Wen'ang, how heartbroken and miserable would she have been?
She still remembered that in her youth, while she was not proficient in poetry and song, she had followed her elder brother in studying the art of war for a long time. This was the way for children of merchant families.
Her mother had said that beautiful women who served as concubines were for pleasing the eye, but a woman who could support her husband was a true wife. A noble family background was just the icing on the cake in ordinary times, but a sharp mind that could bring good fortune and avert disaster for her husband was the true skill that would earn his esteem. Even the ancient worthy Zhong Wuyan was such a case.
Song Hemei didn't know if the military texts she had read would ever be of use, but she was truly unfamiliar with poetry and song. In their youth, Shao Wen'ang had made her a vow: "Mei'er need not work so hard, nor need she worry about any Xia Yingchun. My heart holds only Mei'er. Whether Mei'er is a princess or a noblewoman, I am happy. Whether Mei'er is a beggar or a village woman, I am happy. Even if Mei'er were illiterate, I would still be happy."
Looking back now, she had truly been fooled by this line of talk.
Seeing her silent, Shao Wen'ang tapped his fingers lightly on the table, preparing to continue his lecture: "Mei'er, rest assured. With me here, I will protect you, and I will also teach you well. Starting today, you will go to my study to read. After three days, people will look at you with new eyes. The next time they invite you, you will surely—"
Song Hemei couldn't hold back. She interrupted him: "Husband, do you smell something?"
She raised her hand, covering her nose and mouth with her handkerchief, feigning confusion.
This was a good method she had discovered during this time to get rid of him.
Shao Wen'ang was always putting on airs in front of her, pretending to be a man without defect.
The phrase "self-proclaimed devotion" often contained the "self-proclaimed," while the "devotion" was conveniently ignored.
In Shao Wen'ang's heart, he did value her deeply. Much of their long-standing affection was not a lie.
But what man would want to reveal his shortcomings in front of his beloved, letting her know that he couldn't even control going to the privy?
He didn't mind Cao Lingchun knowing, for he had never considered Cao Lingchun a person.
But he would never let Song Hemei know, allowing her image of him to fall from a widely-read, humble scholar to the level of a eunuch in the palace.
Sure enough, Shao Wen'ang's expression immediately changed. He smiled awkwardly: "Is there? I didn't notice anything."
Song Hemei retorted with innuendo: "Oh, really?"
Shao Wen'ang immediately began to doubt himself. His lips twitched slightly before he made an excuse to get up and go to his study.
He never stayed to sleep in the same room with her.
At first, he had had the intention. But Song Hemei would agree, and then, when he truly tried to get into bed, she would cry — crying about the injustice of heaven that had crippled his body, crying about her own miserable fate that prevented them from enjoying marital bliss like a true couple of phoenixes singing in harmony.
His pride couldn't take it. Add to that the insinuation that he smelled bad, and it was enough to send him to sleep in his study permanently.
This kind of life was merely getting by.
And "merely getting by" lasted for three years.
For some unknown reason, the court changed its direction. The talk of war silently ceased.
Her elder brother's horses were all confiscated as compensation, eventually given away as favors to some unknown party. The Song family had to close many of their shops. Life at home could no longer be extravagant. Jilang's imperial examinations were out of the question now, and even Senior Lord Shao's connections couldn't open a path.
Because Senior Lord Shao was even worse off. For offending some unknown person or backing the wrong faction, he had been continuously demoted all the way to Kangzhou. He was tight-lipped, refusing to say anything no matter what was asked, and even Shao Wen'ang's position suffered as a result.
His former colleagues, once as close as bosom friends, gradually distanced themselves, avoiding him whenever they met. Sometimes, when Song Hemei was in a good mood, she could still throw a barb his way: "Good husband, are poetry and song of any use now? Or is it that you haven't been studying hard lately, and that's why people despise you?"
Shao Wen'ang would get angry, but he could never best her in an argument, and he was even more unwilling to admit defeat in front of a woman. He could only flick his sleeves and retreat to his study.
It wasn't until late June, after she had returned from a visit home, that the gatekeeper informed her of an honored guest in the residence.
She didn't think much of it. Shao Wen'ang bringing "honored guests" home like a clown putting on a show was nothing new. It had nothing to do with her, a woman of the inner chambers. She simply instructed someone to tell the kitchen to send some sobering appetizers to put up a facade of virtuousness.
But this time was different. She had just returned to her room and changed her clothes when Shao Wen'ang's trusted attendant came to deliver a message: "Madam, the master requests your presence."
Song Hemei was puzzled, but she followed nonetheless. Along the way, she asked: "What background does this official have? Was the kitchen's hospitality unsatisfactory?"
She walked through the covered walkway towards the pavilion where guests were received. Her eyes first identified Shao Wen'ang, then shifted to the figure seated beside him.
Somehow, she felt her heart suddenly lurch, followed by a spreading wave of panic.
The servant thought for a moment before finally answering: "This humble servant doesn't know much, but—"
"I heard he's an Investigating Censor from the capital. His surname is Yu."
Song Hemei's steps came to an abrupt halt. Her entire heart trembled even more violently. A buzzing sound filled her ears as her gaze locked tightly onto that figure.
And that person, as if sensing something, lifted his head in her direction.
Beneath the dim, grey light of the sky, their eyes met across the distance. Song Hemei's very breath seemed to stop.
It was truly him. Yu Yeqing.
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