Fang Yao sat with the other women in Old Madam Fang’s room, chatting until the pig’s desperate squeals grew shrill and terrible. Sensing disaster, she hurried out to see.
The great sow lay thrashing in pools of blood. Botched and unskilled hands had failed to make a clean end; maddened with pain, she broke free from her captors, the knife still lodged in her neck, and charged wildly across the yard!
“Good heavens! She’s loose! Why did none of you hold her fast?”
“Quick stop her before she escapes! After her!”
Fang Zhen and several young men gave chase. They finally brought her down but their clumsy strokes had failed to pierce the thick hide, and only prolonged her agony. The butchery had turned into a cruel, bloody struggle. No one could bring themselves to strike another blow. All stood frozen, staring helplessly at one another.
Then, amid the crowd, appeared a tall, striking figure in grass-green uniform. Slender, strong hands closed around the knife. One swift, sure motion and the sow fell still.
Silence fell over the yard.
Fang Daguo recovered first. “Bowls! Bring bowls to catch the blood!”
The tall, lean figure in green did not depart. He stayed among them, working calmly and steadily becoming the very pillar upon which everyone leaned.
“Whose son is that fine young man in uniform?” a woman whispered behind Fang Yao. “I have never seen him before.”
Sun Yanqin beamed proudly. “Who else? That is our new son-in-law! A company commander in the army and capable beyond measure!”
Praise flowed freely from every tongue, each neighbour vying to heap compliments upon Xu Qingzhou and by extension, honouring the Fang family. Yet amid the acclaim, Fang Yao caught one quiet, disapproving murmur.
An elderly woman leaned close to another and whispered: “Blood upon the groom on his wedding day… surely that bodes ill.”
Fang Yao’s gaze remained fixed upon Xu Qingzhou’s broad, busy back. A cold knot tightened in her chest. Those words struck dread into her heart for this proud, upright man standing before her was destined, not long hence, to suffer grave injury and crippling disability!
Heaven had granted her a second chance. She would not could not let that fate befall him again!
Fang Yao said nothing more to the elders. She waited at the edge of the crowd until the pig had been butchered and portioned, then walked straight to his side.
“I thought you were asleep inside? Why have you come out here?” Her eyes fell upon his blood-spattered cuffs, and her concern was plain to see.
Xu Qingzhou had slept soundly for two hours; the wine had long since worn off. He wiped sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. “The household was in such uproar I could not lie abed, knowing they could not manage.”
“Do you not know what they say?” she chided, her face grave and tight with worry. “Blood upon the groom brings ill fortune!”
Xu Qingzhou saw her concern and smiled, warmth shining in his eyes. “What have I to fear? I serve the nation such superstitions mean nothing to me. Besides… how could I stand idly by and watch chaos unfold before our very wedding feast?”
He caught the scent of blood and slaughter clinging to his clothes and feared it might distress her. He walked to the courtyard basin to wash his hands, then slipped off his tunic and draped it over one arm.
Fang Yao followed close behind him, step for step, like a faithful shadow.
Xu Qingzhou laughed softly at her persistence. He sat upon a stone bench, leaned close, and whispered low into her ear. “Still following? Your relatives are beginning to tease they say you simply cannot keep your hands off me.”
“Hush! Must you hear everything?” Fang Yao pinched his arm in embarrassment, a flush rising warm and pink to the very tips of her ears.
Yet beneath her shyness, resolve hardened. She would keep him close watch over him ensure he never again walked the path that led to ruin.
The sun sank low. Great fires blazed red and golden through the courtyard as relatives and helpers set to work preparing the feast. Savoury scents of oil and spice drifted far beyond the gate, drawing every village dog and cat to linger hopefully nearby.
Xu Qingzhou, kept idle under Fang Yao’s watchful eye, went indoors to sit respectfully with the elders.
By the time the work was done, night had deepened past ten o’clock. Though the marriage had been sanctioned, Liu Bailan remained old-fashioned and cautious. Since Fang Daguo meant to keep watch through the night, she asked her daughter to share her room.
Oil lamps burned steady and bright across the courtyard, casting long shadows and carrying distant laughter into the night. Now and then, a dog barked far off.
Fang Yao lay beside her mother, listening to Liu Bailan’s steady breathing but sleep would not come. She turned and tossed, restless and awake until the grey hours before dawn.
Quietly she rose, wrapped a thick quilt around her shoulders, and carried it out to her father.
“Father… wrap this around you. Do not catch a chill.”
Fang Daguo looked up at his daughter’s care, and a gentle, proud smile softened his weathered face.
“Never fear for me. Go back inside now wash, dress, and make yourself lovely. This is my daughter’s wedding day. Let no one say you are not worthy of your fine husband.”
Fang Yao saw clearly how deeply her father admired Xu Qingzhou thoughtful enough to tend even to such small details. She nodded softly and returned to her room.
At the sound of the door, Xu Qingzhou rose at once and lit the oil lamp. A knowing, tender smile played upon his lips. “Up so early? Are you too excited to sleep just as I am?”
Fang Yao flushed, turning away. “I am not! Do not be so pleased with yourself!” She walked to the wardrobe.
Nearly all her new clothing had been sent ahead to the Xu household. Only one dress remained cut somewhat snug, fitting close and firm to every curve of her figure.
She stood with her back to him, fastening the buttons quickly. When she turned there he stood, watching openly, eyes bright with amused affection.
“What are you staring at? As though you have never seen a woman before!” She glared at him, pouring warm water into the basin to wash.
Xu Qingzhou leaned comfortably against the bedpost, head resting upon one hand, gaze warm and admiring. “I have never seen one half so lovely as my wife.”
“Smooth-tongued rogue!” She ignored his compliment, washed her face, then stood before the mirror. With the stub of an eyebrow pencil she shaped her brows; lacking rouge, she pressed a scrap of red paper gently to her lips. Lastly she unbound her hair, braided it neatly into a single plait, and tied it securely with red cord at the nape of her neck neat, fresh, and radiant.
“Rise now,” she told him gently. “I shall heat water so you may wash too.”
She carried the kettle out. Villagers and helpers began arriving while dawn was still grey. The whole household rose, passing out cigarettes and candies to every guest, while others hurried to assist the cook.
The moment Fang Yao stepped into the courtyard, all eyes turned toward her. She was praised for her beauty and then the teasing turned to Xu Qingzhou. Several young men who had not met him the day before called out merrily.
“The bride is up and radiant! Where is our groom? Surely he has not been worn out already!”
“Ha! We are all men of the world here! No amount of weariness keeps a man abed! Call him out let us feast our eyes upon him!”
Fang Yao burned bright with shame, her cheeks aflame. It took every ounce of self-possession to hold her tongue though every instinct told her to silence their disrespect once and for all.
Then Xu Qingzhou stepped calmly from the house. He smiled, passed around cigarettes, lit them for every man and turned all their banter gently away from her.
When he had greeted each in turn, he turned and spoke clearly, standing tall beside her.
“Friends and kinsmen thank you for rising so early to help. My wife is modest and easily embarrassed. Jest with me as you please, I beg you but do not tease her. Grant the groom this small favour, I pray!”