If only she could restrain those eyes that were darting around the courtyard’s valuables, instead of letting her greed practically manifest into something physical, she might have managed to deceive a fool or two.
“Ouch! Ow, ow, ow! Gentle, be gentle! I’m no thief! If you hurt me, watch out or the masters will blame you—I’m an acquaintance of this family!”
The elderly woman, whose hands were pinned behind her as she was dragged over, had thinning gray hair with a bald patch on her crown. Her skin was as loose and wrinkled as chicken skin, yet she remained full of vigor. Her slanted eyes were constantly rolling, unable to hide her shrewd calculations.
The “acquaintance” she spoke of, Granny Wang, took one look at her and curled her lip in disdain. “What nonsense are you spouting? Who’s an acquaintance of yours? I’ve never heard of a thief being ‘well-acquainted’ with their victim!”
The old woman was loud, but Granny Wang’s voice was even louder as she harshly rebuked her. Held firmly by Granny Wang and pulled behind her, Chen Yuanniang felt incredibly at ease listening to her grandmother’s familiar, fiery voice. This was her grandmother’s usual self; the heavy, imposing aura from moments ago had felt strangely foreign. She wasn’t afraid, of course—after all, this was her grandmother—but she hadn’t quite been used to it.
Hearing Granny Wang’s voice, the old woman instinctively looked at Granny Wang’s fan-like large hands and thick, grayish-brown nails. She felt as if strands of her own gray hair were still stuck there, and the bald patch on her head began to throb. She gave a visible shiver.
The rascal-like bravado she had shown before the biaoshi instantly weakened. The old woman explained in a low voice, her tone even carrying a hint of grievance, “Old sister, wasn’t I just concerned about your family? With so many people here, if anything happened, I could have gone to find help. Besides, we’re neighbors; taking a bit of dried cabbage can hardly be called thievery.”
She spoke with great sincerity, as if she truly worried for the Chen family. However, if she could have restrained those eyes that were darting around the courtyard’s valuables instead of letting her greed practically manifest into something physical, she might have managed to deceive a fool or two.
The matron sent by the Wei family to break the engagement was, after all, a servant of a prestigious household and possessed no small amount of wit. She saw through the woman in a heartbeat.
The matron ignored the old woman and looked toward Granny Wang. Bowing her head a couple of inches lower, she asked considerately, “How should we handle this? Just say the word.”
The Chen family had been straightforward about breaking the engagement, making her job easy. It was only right to grant them some face in return.
Though the wealth given today was a mere drop in the bucket for the Wei family, it was enough to incite envy in the countryside or even the county seat. With these goods, one could leap into the ranks of the wealthy. If managed well, prosperity for two or three generations was entirely possible.
If the Chen family wanted to use this old woman to intimidate others, the matron figured that as a servant of Master Wei’s household—given his status as the Vice Councilor of State Affairs—she carried significant weight in this remote region.
The title of Vice Prime Minister, as the Vice Councilor of State Affairs was known among the people, was no joke.
Her mistress would not blame her for making things difficult for a rural old woman. In fact, if word reached Bianjing, it would only burnish the family’s reputation for gallantly aiding an old friend in distress.
Because the Wei family servants were present, Granny Wang did not resort to her usual foul language. She merely gave the old woman a fierce, intimidating glare before responding to the Wei family matron, “Throw her back!”
As Granny Wang spoke, she pointed to the mud-walled thatched house about a dozen paces away—the old woman’s home.
The Wei family matron gave a slight nod. The biaoshi followed her lead, dragging the old woman out and tossing her back into that dilapidated shack.
Meanwhile, Chen Kuo Cang led Madam Cen back into the house to continue the grand task of brewing tea. He even stood on his tiptoes to prop open the window so that those outside could see the tea being prepared.
Including the biaoshi and the Wei family servants, there were over twenty people in total. Since there weren’t enough cups in the house, they even brought out bowls. Drinking tea this way was unrefined, but in such a remote rural area, even a mouthful of hot water was hard to come by.
Madam Cen had long grown used to the simplicity of farm life. Yet, seeing people from Bianjing again after several years, she couldn’t help but feel a familiar sense of shame over her lack of etiquette.
She sighed, “It’s a pity these tea leaves haven’t been roasted. Otherwise, even without tea sets for the tea ceremony, we could have made pounded tea to entertain them. This is truly… too shabby. I wonder how much they will look down on my Yuanniang.”
Since there were no outsiders around, Madam Cen, her back to the window, could not hide her tears. Her worn, frayed sleeves were soon dampened.
She had lived a good life once. Because of that, she couldn’t bear the thought of her daughter truly becoming a peasant woman. The gap between a lady of an official’s house and a rural farmwoman was as wide as a chasm. Her poor daughter had grown up without seeing anything of the world. That marriage had been her only hope.
Chen Kuo Cang, though only seven or eight years old and barely reaching Madam Cen’s waist, was far more composed than she was. He had already washed the dust from his face, hands, and feet, looking much cleaner and more delicate. He calmly placed the rinsed tea leaves into the kettle of boiling water.
Hearing her words, his small hands paused for a moment before he continued pouring the steeped tea into the bowls. “Mother, why overthink it? Our family is poor, yet we offer hot tea; we have already fulfilled the requirements of etiquette. Besides, they are determined to break the engagement with Eldest Sister. Even if we prepared pounded tea—or even tea made of gold and silver—what use would it be?”
His words were logical and well-reasoned, hardly the insights one would expect from a seven-or-eight-year-old boy who had never attended school.
Madam Cen was not surprised; she had long grown accustomed to her son’s precocity.
She continued to sigh. Knowing the truth was one thing, but she couldn’t help but feel the sting of regret. Even for her young son—if his father were still here, he would have already begun his education. How could such talent be allowed to go to waste?
Alas, such was their luck. How could human effort contend with fate?
By then, Chen Kuo Cang had placed the cups and bowls onto a tray and steadily left the house to serve the tea in the courtyard.
Chen Yuanniang, who had been staying behind her grandmother, wanted to help as well, but she was stopped by Granny Wang, who was talking to the Wei family matron.
It was as if Granny Wang had eyes in the back of her head. Without even looking back, her large hand accurately clamped onto Yuanniang’s wrist as the girl tried to slip away. She turned her head slightly and gave an indisputable command: “Don’t go.”
Yuanniang was not naturally the hardworking type who rushed to do chores. Upon hearing her grandmother’s words, she took the hint and stood obediently.
Out of the corner of her eye, she watched her younger brother hand the tea bowls to the male servants and biaoshi, while her mother served the maidservants, starting with the matron in front of them. A sudden realization struck Yuanniang—was her grandmother trying to keep her away from the men to avoid any impropriety?
Social customs were relatively open these days, and she was still young. Although there were rules about the separation of genders, serving tea to guests had never been a taboo, so she hadn’t thought much of it before.
Now, she felt a delayed sense of understanding. She stole a glance at her grandmother and then at the Wei family matron, who looked like someone who valued strict propriety. Although the engagement was broken, her grandmother likely didn’t want them to look down on her. Yuanniang felt a swell of emotion in her chest, her eyes growing misty with gratitude.
Then, a fan-like, rough, and cracked palm landed heavily on Yuanniang’s forehead. The pain was so sharp she nearly lost her composure.
Her grandmother’s gruff, somewhat disgusted voice reached her ears: “Stupid girl, don’t you know to bring me a bowl of tea?”
Chen Yuanniang rubbed the red mark blossoming on her fair forehead. Maintaining a quiet and obedient expression, she mumbled, “I’m going now.”
Hmph, how could she hit me in front of outsiders? How embarrassing!
Yuanniang walked sullenly toward Chen Kuo Cang, who was holding the tray. However, she faintly heard her grandmother behind her start discussing other matters with the Wei family matron. Words like “borrowing servants,” “guard,” and “escort agency” drifted into her ears, but she didn’t pay much more attention.
She had intended to ask Chen Kuo Cang for a bowl of tea, but she saw him somehow engaged in conversation with a biaoshi. The sight was quite jarring.
He was so small, not even reaching the man’s waist, yet he wasn’t shy at all. Look at those bulging muscles under the man’s clothes—if he took a single punch, who knew how much it would hurt!
After silently criticizing her “stupid” younger brother, Yuanniang went into the house and poured two bowls of tea herself. One was for her grandmother, and the other was naturally for her. Her family was poor, and even malt sugar was a rarity they couldn’t often have, let alone tea leaves.
She wanted to try something new, too!
She gulped it down like a thirsty ox. Because she drank too fast, she didn’t catch any notes of bitterness or a sweet aftertaste; there was just an indescribable, light fragrance. Compared to plain water, it was better than nothing. Yuanniang had never tasted fine things, so she drank every drop of the bland tea, wiped her mouth, and headed out with the other bowl.
Granny Wang took the bowl and no longer restricted Yuanniang, waving her off to go play.
Given the situation at home, she certainly couldn’t go out. Feeling very uncomfortable under the gaze of those people from Bianjing, Yuanniang simply ran to the small shed built behind the house and sat on the low stool used for tending the fire.
Cooking was usually done here. By her feet was a built-up earthen stove with a coarse ceramic pot on top; its pale yellow body had been burnt black. In the corner sat farm tools like hoes and sickles. Poor as they were, her grandmother was very particular and wouldn’t allow them to leave mud-stained tools scattered around the yard like their neighbors did.
In the center of the shed, firewood was stacked against the mud wall higher than a person, arranged in neat horizontal and vertical rows. Because it was so level, the woodpile wouldn’t budge even if one gave it a kick.
While her grandmother liked cleanliness, only Chen Kuo Cang had this specific temperament—insisting that everything be arranged with a rigid precision that mirrored his own personality. For such a young child, he was incredibly stiff!
Finding herself alone in the back, her hidden temper flared. She glared at the woodpile several times. Still not fully satisfied, she plucked a wild flower from the grass and began aggressively tearing at the petals and leaves. Seeing her fierce expression, one might have thought she was dismembering a corpse.
Yuanniang was young, but she had inherited the family’s fiery temper. She had suppressed it earlier, unwilling to shame the family, but now that she was alone, she only wanted to vent all her indignation.
Breaking the engagement! Breaking the engagement! Breaking the engagement!!
To hell with them! I hate them! I really hate them!! I don’t care about it at all!!
Aaaaahhhhh!
She was fuming, her porcelain-white face flushed red with anger. Yet, her beautiful large eyes instinctively welled with tears, sparkling with a hint of grievance.
A twelve or thirteen-year-old girl, though raised in poverty, had grown up under the protection of her family; her heart was still quite innocent.
She understood the vast difference between the two families, but as a person with her own pride, she still felt a sense of injustice.
She plucked the flower until it was bare, not even a leaf remaining. Still not quite finished venting her anger, she was about to pluck two more when a youthful face appeared before her, framed by two round buns tied with red ribbons.
Look at those handsome eyes—black and white clearly defined, bright and clear—just like hers. Who could this be but her brother, Chen Kuo Cang?
Yuanniang pursed her lips and was about to turn away, not wanting to deal with him, but he suddenly cupped his hands and held them out.
Though the boy was thin, his fingers still had a bit of baby fat, though they were tanned dark from years of chores and covered in many pale, healed scratches. However, he was clean; unlike other children his age, there was no black dirt under his fingernails, which were trimmed neatly.
In his palms sat a large piece of malt sugar.
A piece that big must have cost at least five wen!
“Eldest Sister, for you.” He didn’t say much, but it was clear he wanted to use the candy to comfort her.
There was no scene of siblings embracing and crying as one might imagine. Yuanniang put her hands on her hips, assuming the full authority of an elder sister, and shouted in a fury, “Chen Kuo Cang!!”
“Didn’t you say last time that there wasn’t any left?”
“You actually hid such a big piece of sugar behind my back!”
“Were you planning to eat it all by yourself in secret?!”
Chen Kuo Cang felt a bit helpless. He wasn’t truly a child; how could he possibly expend so much effort over a piece of malt sugar? He had simply saved it for an emergency—to coax his elder sister.