Having said that, Fusheng shoved the clay pot filled with filling into Junsheng's hands and tilted her chin, signaling him to put it in a cool, shaded spot.
"Why put it there? Aren't we wrapping the buns right now?" Junsheng raised the question, but it didn't stop him from doing as Fusheng said.
There were too many people in the kitchen—Grandmother and the others were all crowded inside bustling about. Junsheng carried the slightly warm pot out the kitchen door and carefully picked a shaded spot under the eaves to set it down.
Behind him, Fusheng's voice drifted out from the house: "Wrapping buns with hot filling—Brother really has no common sense. Grandmother, I've heard those retired officials say that scholars can't just bury their heads in books. They need what they call all-around development—morally, intellectually, physically, aesthetically, and in labor. Brother's development right now is far too one-sided. Our family even deals in the food business, yet he can't lift a finger or tell one grain from another. It's truly disgraceful!"
There were indeed a few old gentlemen in Wenzhou City who had served as officials and returned home to retire, but Fusheng had no way of knowing them. Her words were entirely made up on the spot to fit the moment—she even dragged out phrases like "morally, intellectually, physically, aesthetically, and in labor." But the intention to express this idea was something Fusheng had harbored for a long time.
In her view, a strong physique was absolutely necessary. If her unlucky father had possessed a strong physique, how could he have been so unfortunate as to fail to protect his examination paper—or himself—when that crazed old scholar flew into a rage and beat him?
If Zhu Junsheng didn't develop himself all-around—morally, intellectually, physically, aesthetically, and in labor—setting aside everything else, if he inherited their father's "good luck," an accident in the examination hall would be far from pleasant.
Afraid that Grandmother wouldn't think of this point and thus fail to convey and urge Grandfather to implement it, Fusheng pretended to add casually, as if it had just occurred to her: "If Father had developed himself all-around back then—morally, intellectually, physically, aesthetically, and in labor—maybe he wouldn't have been beaten so badly. When Grandfather talked about it, I felt heartbroken just listening!"
Yang Tieniang's hands kneading the dough paused for a moment.
She didn't speak, but her mind was already working.
Her second son, Hewen, was indeed frail and bookish—he couldn't even beat his own wife. Back then, she'd thought scholars had no need to wield swords or practice martial arts, and since she didn't understand much about scholarship anyway, she'd handed over all responsibility for her sons' education to her husband.
Now that she thought about it, she should have had her sons train their strength back then.
But then again, Sanniang said those old gentlemen claimed scholars needed "all-around development—morally, intellectually, physically, aesthetically, and in labor"… Better not to have them train haphazardly on their own. It would be best to find a proper teacher for formal instruction.
Being accomplished in both letters and martial arts—that sounded better too!
As for the rest? Compared to her three sons, her eldest grandson was indeed somewhat useless—couldn't lift a finger and couldn't tell one grain from another.
That was also the fault of him being the only male grandchild in the family. With just this one boy to carry on the family line and keep the clan from gossiping or scheming against them, he'd been somewhat spoiled!
That wouldn't do! How could she forget the saying, "Spoiling a child is killing a child"?
Her eldest grandson couldn't just be good at studying and fooling around!
"Tell your grandfather about this later!"
After quite a while—by which time Fusheng had already re-kneaded the risen dough—Yang Tieniang suddenly blurted out this one line.
Junsheng, who had been sent by Fusheng to fetch a basin of water to wash the steaming basket, felt a chill run down his back. He had a nagging sense that something bad was about to happen. He looked up, intending to ask his grandmother, "What were you saying to Grandfather?"—but before the words could leave his mouth, he caught sight of his eldest aunt, Lin Cui, coming in through the door with red-rimmed eyes.
"Tsk!" Junsheng squeezed the sound through his teeth, a worried expression crossing his face. He forgot all about asking Yang Tieniang what she had said.
Whenever his eldest aunt came back from outside looking like this, the household would fall into an uneasy tension for a while—short as three days, brief as an hour. If his eldest uncle happened to be home, the discomfort would be brief; but if he wasn't, whether he returned shortly after or not, his eldest aunt would sit there stewing in her stubborn mood, and the unease would drag on much longer.
Not to mention that in such situations, his eldest aunt would look at him with a fierce, wolfish gaze, as if she wanted to devour him whole.
Junsheng shuddered, quickly fetched the water, and scurried back to the kitchen to "report" what he had seen.
He kept his voice low:
"Bad news, bad news! Eldest Aunt came back from outside with red eyes! She looks terribly wronged!"
Hearing this, everyone in the kitchen paused in their work—none more so than Meisheng, who was tending the fire to boil the bamboo skewers for the dumplings. The firewood she was about to feed into the stove clattered to the ground.
It had only been half a day since she'd stood blocking the bedroom door with red eyes that morning, and now here she was again, returning from outside with red-rimmed eyes. Yang Tieniang hardly knew what words to use for this daughter-in-law of hers anymore.
"Second Sister-in-law," Yang Tieniang quickly instructed, worried that Cao Sanqiao, who was sitting outside making paper flowers, might clash with Lin Cui with her quick tongue, "take Fourth Sister and go keep your Third Aunt company with the flower-making. Don't let your Third Aunt, heavy with child, get into a squabble with your Eldest Aunt."
Lansheng immediately grabbed Jusheng and ran out.
Yang Tieniang's gaze then fell on Hu Xiangdi.
"Ah Xiang, you—"
Before she could finish, she caught the eager, restless look on Hu Xiangdi's face. Yang Tieniang sighed and could only turn her gaze to Meisheng instead:
"Eldest girl, go see what's wrong with your mother this time. If she's suffered some great injustice, she can tell the family—I, as her mother-in-law, will personally take her to seek justice. She mustn't bottle it up inside."
Otherwise, the whole family would end up miserable.
If Hu Xiangdi hadn't had the mind to stir up trouble, Yang Tieniang wouldn't have wanted Meisheng to go. Aside from teaching Meisheng fine embroidery, Lin Cui had done nothing but suppress her daughter in every other way. Though Yang Tieniang had stepped in to intervene, Lin Cui was still the girl's own mother, and a stubborn one at that—she had pressed down on Meisheng so hard that the girl's temperament had become soft to a fault.
Still, Lin Cui was timid. Over all these years, she'd never dared to raise a hand.
"Go ask and come right back," Yang Tieniang hastily added as Meisheng walked out quickly. "If your mother keeps you there with her rambling complaints, tell her your grandmother has given you work that isn't done yet!"
"Ah, I understand." Meisheng's voice was faint and thin. She gave a barely perceptible nod before leaving.
Fusheng withdrew her gaze and looked at the dough before her. No matter how she looked at it, it reminded her of her eldest sister.
In all the time she'd been here, her eldest aunt had always told everyone that her eldest sister Meisheng was of a gentle, virtuous, quiet, and obedient temperament—and she took great pride in this, even going so far as to seek out a match with a high-ranking family for her eldest sister, who wouldn't even turn ten until May of this year.
Although she knew that women in this era married early, and there were plenty of people who arranged betrothals at a young age, she still felt that her eldest aunt's intentions were not entirely pure—who picks a marriage partner by looking only at the family's status and not at the person's character?
Not to mention that Meisheng, aside from being gentle and quiet in front of Lin Cui, was actually somewhat lively in front of the rest of the family. Even though her temperament was indeed soft, she had no desire to have a marriage hastily arranged for her.
And certainly not to be betrothed to a high-ranking family that they could never hope to match, as Lin Cui imagined.
It was unclear how mother and daughter got along when they were alone in a room together, but every time Meisheng, the eldest sister, came out of Lin Cui's room, she would be silent for quite a while.
Wasn't she just like that piece of dough, kneaded and shaped by Lin Cui at will, and even after great effort, she might not be able to return to her original form!
At this moment, unlike Fusheng in the kitchen, who was calmly starting to wrap the steamed buns, Meisheng paced back and forth at the entrance of the eastern room for quite some time before summoning the courage to lift the curtain and go inside.
The eastern room was where Lin Cui and her husband slept. Zhu Yongwen worked as an accountant at a restaurant. Apart from a few daily necessities, everything else in the room was stored away in cabinets. Lin Cui relied on her excellent embroidery skills to take on needlework for money. In order to earn a bit more and keep some extra private savings after contributing to the family's common fund, she took on many jobs, and embroidery cloths, embroidery hoops, and needlework baskets could be seen everywhere in the room.
When Meisheng entered, she first noticed these familiar embroidery tools, neatly arranged yet slightly cluttered, and only then did she see Lin Cui sobbing into the bedding.
Lin Cui was extremely generous with her husband and her nephew from her natal family, indifferent toward Meisheng, but extremely stingy with herself. She was naturally slender, and with her frugality toward herself, she never spent her private savings on food, so she was especially thin.
That morning, she had put on a half-worn lotus-pink long outer robe, which made her look even thinner. Now, lying face down on the bedding of the same color, she seemed to blend into it entirely, looking even more pitiful and forlorn.
Meisheng had been afraid when she first saw her, but at this moment, strands of sympathy began to rise in her heart.
"Mother," she hurried forward, crouching by the bed and taking Lin Cui's hand: "Mother, what's wrong? Has someone bullied you? If someone has bullied you, let's go tell Grandmother—she'll take us to seek justice!"
She spoke urgently, her voice slightly raised, and in the silent room, her words fell clearly into the ears of Lin Cui, who was still sobbing.
Lin Cui had already risen from the bedding when Meisheng took her hand. Her eyes were red from crying, like rotten peaches, and the powder on her cheeks was streaked with tears. When she heard what Meisheng said, she unhesitatingly grabbed the fly whisk hanging at the head of the bed and struck Meisheng hard on the leg.
Meisheng dared not cry out, only instinctively wanting to run out of the room.
But Lin Cui would not give her that chance—she grabbed her arm at once.
"You heartless thing! Giving birth to you was worse than having a rat! I told you to stay in your room and embroider—we have so much needlework this time—but you insisted on running off to the kitchen to be a scullery maid. Did you think I didn't see? What shame are you trying to bring, what attention are you trying to draw? Do you really think that just because you're the eldest granddaughter, people have you in their eyes and hearts? Look at yourself—do you even deserve it?"
She spoke viciously, yet her voice was kept extremely low. Seeing the tears welling up in Meisheng's eyes, she felt somewhat relieved:
"Don't cling to your status as the eldest granddaughter of the main branch. A couple of snacks and a few copper coins, and you think they care about you? They only care about the second branch! I used to think they just favored their grandsons, but now I see—it's because of their grandsons that they only dote on the second branch! Third Miss is just a seven-year-old girl, and yet—hah—they found her a renowned tutor and even splurged on a two-hundred-thirty-wen silk sash as a gift. What do you have? What do you have!"