“We picked her up,” Bai Muban said.
It was exactly what Old Mrs. Bai had suspected.
She could tell at a glance that the child was not even a month old, and Mrs. Zhen did not look like a woman who had recently given birth. Besides, at Mrs. Zhen’s age, for an “old clam to produce a pearl” would require the smoke from the Bai family’s ancestral graves to be as thick as a man’s thigh.
Old Mrs. Bai carefully examined the child’s swaddle. It was embroidered with a lifelike “Pomegranate and a Hundred Sons” pattern. The more she looked at the stitching, the more familiar it seemed.
That was it—it was very similar to Mrs. Zhen’s own embroidery style.
Although Old Mrs. Bai was a mere village woman, she was not without worldly experience.
From the infant’s swaddling clothes, she could deduce that this was no child of an ordinary family. What kind of household could afford such fine, water-slick silk? And if they were a wealthy family, why would they abandon a child for no reason? It wasn’t as if they couldn’t afford to raise her.
Even with the infighting in the inner courtyards of great families, they rarely laid a hand on a little girl. Raising a girl was no trouble, and once she grew up, an arranged marriage could bring support to her maternal family.
Unless—
“Could this child bring some kind of disaster upon our home?” Old Mrs. Bai’s mind raced, and her question left Bai Muban speechless.
“What kind of disaster could she bring?” Bai Muban was stumped by his mother’s question, and his heart felt a bit unsettled.
“I wasn’t asking you; I was asking your wife.” Old Mrs. Bai shot a sharp look at her son.
“Tell me everything truthfully. You know the gravity of this. The Lao Bai family has already been dragged down once; I won’t have us taking any more risks. You are a man with five sons to consider.” Old Mrs. Bai’s piercing gaze stayed fixed on Mrs. Zhen. She had thought of a possible reason why a wealthy family would abandon a daughter—a reason that made her heart tremble just thinking about it.
“Mother, it’s not what you think.” Mrs. Zhen steadied her emotions. She knew what her mother-in-law feared; she shared that same fear.
“This child is not from an official’s family, nor has her household committed any crime punishable by execution,” Mrs. Zhen clarified.
The baby girl had indeed been picked up in the snow by Bai Muban and Mrs. Zhen.
The story had to be told from the beginning.
When Bai Muban was young, he used to deliver fresh vegetables to the Shen family, wealthy merchants in Huacheng, where he became acquainted with a housekeeper.
A year ago, when making a living became truly difficult, Bai Muban took Mrs. Zhen to Huacheng to find work. Through the housekeeper’s connections, they entered the Shen estate as helpers. He tended to the flowers and plants in the courtyard, while Mrs. Zhen, with her excellent embroidery skills, joined the needlework department.
The First Lady of the Shen family greatly appreciated Mrs. Zhen’s craftsmanship. From the moment Mrs. Zhen started, all the clothes and handkerchiefs in the First Lady’s quarters were entrusted to her.
The First Lady was gentle and kind, treating the servants with generosity. Every time Mrs. Zhen took on a task for the First Lady, she would receive a handsome reward. Not only that, but the First Lady also allocated a vacant room for the couple to live in.
Truly grateful for the First Lady’s kindness, Mrs. Zhen embroidered a “Pomegranate and a Hundred Sons” quilt cover as a gift for her.
None of Shen Junshan’s wives or concubines had children, and the First Lady prayed to the Buddha for a son every day. Two months after Mrs. Zhen gave her the quilt cover, she was actually diagnosed with a pregnancy. Overjoyed, the First Lady told Mrs. Zhen that after the child was born, they should become “god-relatives” and treat each other like family. Mrs. Zhen, being a mere peasant woman, did not dare to claim such a connection and politely declined.
The First Lady had failed to carry her previous pregnancies to term, so this one was kept secret. She planned to announce it only after the birth, leaving all household affairs to be handled by the Ru Lady.
When she was five months pregnant, Shen Junshan went to the Shu region to collect silk. He encountered a rainstorm on the Jialing River, his boat capsized, and his remains were never found.
When news of Shen Junshan’s death arrived, the patriarch of the Shen clan brought the younger generation to the door. Using the excuse that Shen Junshan had no heir, they demanded to divide his vast fortune.
The Shen clansmen besieged the estate for days. The First Lady, supporting her belly and leaning on the Ru Lady, came out to prove that Shen Junshan had an heir. But the clansmen refused to back down, saying that if the child in her belly turned out to be a girl, she would have no right to inherit Shen Junshan’s property.
Finally, the government intervened and negotiated a resolution: if a boy was born, the clansmen would disperse; if a girl was born, more than half of the assets would be distributed among the clan.
Bai Muban and Mrs. Zhen did not want to be caught up in the Shen family’s mess, so they resigned last autumn.
The couple had not signed a formal contract with the Shen estate and were free agents. After moving out, they rented a room nearby and continued to work odd jobs. Mrs. Zhen embroidered for a workshop, while Bai Muban carried sandbags at the docks.
After winter began, the couple had saved a bit of silver and planned to quit their jobs and return home.
On a snowy night shortly before their departure, they were startled awake by a commotion outside. Thinking it was a thief, Bai Muban gathered his courage and opened the door, only to find a red swaddled bundle lying in the snow. Under the reflection of the snow, he saw it was an infant.
Fearing the baby would freeze to death, he hurried to bring her inside.
Mrs. Zhen recognized at a glance that the “Pomegranate and a Hundred Sons” pattern on the swaddle was her own handiwork.
The next day, word spread through the city that the First Lady of the Shen family had died of a hemorrhage after giving birth to a son.
…
“What a sin… those clansmen forced her like that. And that Ru Lady doesn’t seem like a good sort either. Likely that ‘son’ was bought in advance from outside. It’s hard to say how the child’s mother really died.” After listening to Mrs. Zhen’s account, Old Mrs. Bai spat on the ground, quickly understanding the hidden twists of the situation.
“Mother, this child has lost her birth mother.” Mrs. Zhen gently patted the bundle, her face clouded with sorrow. “The child and I are fated.”
“If it’s fate, then we’ll raise her. The whole family thinks you gave birth to a daughter, and most likely the whole village knows by now. We can hardly throw her back into the snow, can we? Your mother-in-law isn’t that malicious. Besides, when you worked at the Shen estate, her mother treated you well. We can’t be ungrateful. Raising her daughter well will be our way of repaying her.”
“I understand, Mother. I will raise her as my own daughter,” Mrs. Zhen said, her eyes filling with tears.
“Mother, from now on, this child is my, Bai Muban’s, daughter. Hehe, look at her face; it looks just like mine.” Seeing that his mother had agreed to keep the child, Bai Muban chuckled happily.
Old Mrs. Bai’s mouth twitched. She didn’t have the heart to burst her son’s bubble—with his rough farmer’s looks, how could he produce such a delicate, doll-like girl?
She looked more like Mrs. Zhen; Mrs. Zhen had a fair complexion, and this baby was fair too.
“However, the two of you must stick to the story: this child belongs to the Lao Bai family. No matter who asks, do not let it slip,” Old Mrs. Bai instructed.
Bai Muban and Mrs. Zhen exchanged a look; they had already agreed on this.
Suddenly, the infant in the bundle stirred.
Mrs. Zhen picked up the child. The baby girl wiggled and snuggled closer into Mrs. Zhen’s arms. With her fuzzy little head, tender pink round face, and tiny white hand tucked into her mouth… as Mrs. Zhen looked at the child, her heart felt as if it were melting. She held her even tighter.
Watching from the side, Old Mrs. Bai’s face unconsciously wrinkled into a smile like a blooming chrysanthemum.
This little girl was truly handsome; she looked like one who carried great fortune.
“The child is so small, how will we feed her?” Old Mrs. Bai frowned. In this house, they barely knew where their next meal was coming from. Could the child survive on nothing but rice water?
“There is still a bottle of goat’s milk we bought in Huacheng in the luggage,” Mrs. Zhen said.
“That won’t be enough,” Old Mrs. Bai worried.
“Well, Mother, there’s something I forgot to tell you. The silver Dazhuang’s mother and I earned is all gone. The child was half-dead from the cold in the snow, so we spent more than half our silver on a doctor. These past few days, buying goat and cow milk cost quite a bit. And hiring the carriage to come home cost three times the usual price because of the heavy snow…” Bai Muban carefully listed the expenses for his mother.
He had been away for a year doing odd jobs while his mother managed the household, and he felt quite guilty for not bringing any silver home for her.
“Enough of that. You’ve gained such a handsome daughter; if the money is spent, it’s spent.” Old Mrs. Bai stood up.
“I’ll head into the village to see who has a goat that just gave birth. None of you are any help; I have to go out and sacrifice my old face myself. You two haven’t eaten yet, have you? Muban, go to the kitchen yourself and bring some food for your wife. The rice soup Dazhuang’s wife made this morning is still in the pot.”
Old Mrs. Bai grumbled as she spoke, but she walked out as if her feet were on fire.
From now on, she had a granddaughter. After hoping and waiting for so long, there was finally a girl in the house. Even if she wasn’t related by blood, they say the bond of raising is greater than the bond of birth. Since she was fated with the Lao Bai family, then she was the Lao Bai family’s granddaughter.
Only the couple remained in the room; they weren’t hungry at all.
The fire in the stove burned brighter, and the room grew warmer.
The infant in the bundle slept beautifully with her eyes closed. As she slept, the corners of her mouth curled up into a sweet smile.
“Oh, look, wife! Our daughter is smiling.” Bai Muban’s heart nearly melted, calling her “daughter” with every breath.
From the first moment he saw this child, he had stepped fully into the role of a father.
He couldn’t look at her enough.
Truly, a little girl was much better to look at than those stinky boys; even the air around his daughter smelled sweet.
“She must be having a beautiful dream. Look how happy she is.”
Mrs. Zhen’s eyes were glued to the child, her heart soft enough to wring water from.
The couple stared at their little daughter together, their hearts growing more joyful the longer they looked.
Who needed food? One look at their little daughter was more fulfilling than a whole bowl of rice.