Someone in the crowd asked, “What’s going on, Aunt Lu?”
“Yes, Aunt Lu, what happened? Why are you so upset?”
Some assumed she was grieving for her deceased son and tried to comfort her: “Big Aunt, Dahe is gone, but you still have Dazhi and his family. Don’t be too upset.”
Lu Minggui seized the opportunity to cry out to them: “Sister-in-law, what you say is right!”
“Dazhi’s family is really something else!”
“When I fainted at home, he immediately took my copper coins to buy meat.”
“Thirty whole coins! Money we’d been saving for salt and rice! And he just went to buy meat—do you call that living?”
“Why would he be so happy about this? Doesn’t this mean he was hoping I’d die?”
“Buying meat?” The neighbors exchanged strange glances toward Song Dazhi.
They had never seen anyone in such a situation—fainting, a household in distress—and the first thing done was to buy meat instead of calling a doctor.
Normally, Lu Taihao treated them well. How could this couple act like this?
And Dahe had just died!
“This is unacceptable. Dazhi, I’m not scolding you without reason. Your mother fainted—you should at least have called a doctor. How can you take the money and go buy meat?”
“Exactly! Ungrateful son!”
“Dahe served in the military for you—how could you be so heartless?”
Song Dazhi could not withstand the disapproving stares of the crowd.
He quickly tried to explain while holding Lu Minggui back: “Mother, your temper is too sharp. Listen to me first. I took thirty coins from you, but the meat today wasn’t good, too lean, so I didn’t buy any.”
He reluctantly reached into his coat and pulled out a money pouch.
“See? All the money is here.”
Turning to the neighbors, he forced a smile: “It’s all a misunderstanding! I, Song Dazhi, am very filial. Please, everyone, disperse!”
Before he could even count the thirty coins, Lu Minggui was quick as a flash—snatching the pouch and tucking it into her own bosom.
“Why didn’t you say you didn’t buy it? Look at the oil at the corner of your mouth—I thought you’d eaten out!”
Her movements were fast and precise. Song Dazhi had only taken the pouch to quiet the neighbors, never intending to hand it over to his mother, and now he was anxious.
“Mother, that’s my money…” he protested.
Lu Minggui stopped in her tracks and fixed him with a piercing gaze.
“Your money? Tell me, you always act so poor, but now you have money? Where did it come from?”
Song Dazhi’s heart skipped a beat—he had just let something slip!
The money pouch contained far more than thirty coins.
During busy farming seasons, he had earned dozens of coins doing odd jobs for the landlord, sometimes even hunting wild rabbits and chickens in the mountains.
And Hu Cuihua earned some money from weaving.
With these earnings, they often indulged in little luxuries in secret.
Yet they always pretended to be poor in front of Lu Taihao, never handing over a single coin, while often taking money from her.
Back when Lu Minggui’s husband, Old Song, was alive, he had left her over twenty taels of silver.
He hunted often, and nearby there was a large pine-covered mountain with plenty of game.
But over the years, household expenses and the sons’ wedding gifts had emptied her coffers.
She later discovered that Dazhi and his wife had hidden some money, but by then it was too late.
Now, she could take back whatever she could!
Song Dazhi watched helplessly as his mother took the pouch, muttering: “Mother, this also has the money Cuihua saved from weaving…”
“Do you mean I, your mother, should take Cuihua’s money and give it back to her? Is that what you mean?”
Lu Minggui stared him down, waiting for a nod.
But how could Song Dazhi nod?
Now that his mother was in charge of the household, if he agreed, her going out and complaining would ruin his reputation in the village.
He didn’t care much about reputation, but if he angered his mother, the family’s comforts would be gone.
Now, with his mother and the second daughter-in-law managing the fields, he and Cuihua could go do odd jobs and hunt or weave without worrying about household chores.
At home, everything was ready for them, meals included—a luxury he couldn’t give up.
Thinking of this, he forced a smile: “Ah, mother, what are you saying? Isn’t Cuihua’s money also part of the household?”
“You keep the pouch.”
Lu Minggui gave him only a glance, then turned back into her room.
“Mother…” Song Dazhi followed, wanting to say something, but was startled by the slam of the door.
He rubbed his nose and didn’t dare knock—today, his mother seemed like a completely different person.
It reminded him of the time he stole melons from the villagers—his mother had caught him and spanked him severely.
He nearly thought the same would happen just now!
Lu Minggui returned to her room, locked the door, and carefully emptied the pouch.
One, ten, twenty, thirty… there were 112 coins!
This was just the money Song Dazhi had on him—so much!
She estimated that the eldest son’s family probably had another two taels of silver, but she couldn’t forcibly take it from them now.
She reached under the bedding and retrieved another purse.
Inside were over a tael of fragmented silver and more than three hundred copper coins.
This was all her household savings.
She added the coins she had just taken from Song Dazhi, and set aside fifty coins on her person.
Thinking back to when she had just woken and had seen Hu Cuihua snooping in her wooden chest, she had locked the purse inside for safety.
No sooner had she secured the key than she heard Hu Cuihua calling loudly from the courtyard:
“Mother! Mother! I brought Doctor Li from Huichuntang back!”
Lu Minggui stepped out and saw the white-bearded Doctor Li standing there with his medicine box.
“Sorry to trouble you, Doctor. My daughter-in-law’s delivery seems complicated.”
“Please, have a look.”
Doctor Li had heard about this on the way. The family’s second son had died in the war, and the daughter-in-law fainted upon hearing the news.
So he didn’t ask much, just followed Lu Minggui inside.
After taking Shen Juye’s pulse, he unsurprisingly said:
“This woman’s pulse is extremely weak.”
“She’s been malnourished for a long time, and with the pregnancy, the fetus is unstable.”
“Right now, her heart is troubled and the child needs careful nurturing.”
Lu Minggui’s eyes glistened: “What should we do? You must think of a way to save her and the baby.”