“Mother — what happened?!” Lu Ze caught Song Yuhua by the shoulders. His eyes reddened with distress at the sight of her shivering, soaked through.
Song Yuhua lifted her gaze slowly toward him, managing a weak, trembling smile. “I am fine, my child!”
“Fine? Look at you!” Lu Ze turned sharply toward Aunt Liu. “Who did this?!”
Aunt Liu pointed straight at Jiang Yuan. “Comrade Little Jiang! She took a full basin of cold water — every last drop — and poured it all over Comrade Song! And after that, she stood there bold as brass! She said — if she did not admit it — you would again believe as you did before, that she would never do such a thing. This time, she said, she would let you see with your own eyes whether she truly poured water over Comrade Song.”
While Aunt Liu spoke, Song Yuhua glanced at Jiang Yuan again and again — a glint of triumph in her eyes, as if to say: Now let us see you wriggle your way out of this.
Then Lu Ze asked — simply, directly: “Did you do it?”
He had not forgotten the day Lu Qinian had summoned him to the study and reprimanded him thoroughly. You have no brain of your own, his father had said. No ability to think, to analyse, to decide for yourself. You let others lead you around by the nose. Lu Qinian despised foolishness — ordinarily he gave only gentle hints, leaving him to figure the rest out for himself. Never had he been so specific, so blunt, so clear. Lu Ze had taken it to heart. Look at the facts. Analyse everything. Do not simply assume what you wish to be true.
Jiang Yuan arched an eyebrow, surprised — and answered plainly: “I did.”
He had braced himself to sift through excuses and contradictions. She had simply admitted it. “Why?” he asked, determined to be thorough.
“She poured water over me first,” Jiang Yuan shrugged, unbothered. “Is it not perfectly obvious why I did the same?”
“Jiang Yuan!” Lu Ze’s face flushed, veins rising in his neck. “My mother raised me with every sacrifice! You swore to care for her as your own — yet you treat her like this! Kneel and apologise this instant — or I shall make you regret it!”
Song Yuhua caught his arm, feigning gentle restraint. “Lu Ze — please. It is only water. Do not quarrel or strike her over such a small thing.”
Not one word about who poured water first. This was no restraint — it was deliberate fuel, reminding him that striking her was still an option.
“Mother — stand aside,” Lu Ze said, indignant. “I shall see justice done.” He rolled up his sleeves, turning back to Jiang Yuan. “I shall give you one last chance — out of consideration for the long journey you made to find me. Kneel. Apologise. Promise to obey and care for my mother from now on — and this ends here. If not — do not blame me for being harsh.”
He signalled her urgently with his eyes — apologise, beg forgiveness, yield now and all will be well.
Instead Jiang Yuan looked past him once more, toward the doorway. “Division Commander Lu — what penalty does our army impose upon an officer who strikes an ordinary civilian?”
Every head turned — to see Lu Qinian standing there.
Lu Ze opened his mouth to explain everything — only to meet his father’s gaze, and fall silent instantly.
Song Yuhua hurried to shield him. “Qinian — Lu Ze raised no hand. He saw me doused in cold water and was distressed — he spoke sharply to her and asked an apology. That is all. He never meant to strike her — it was only a warning.”
Lu Qinian stood silent, face cold and unreadable. Aunt Liu, trembling but determined, spoke up:
“Do not blame Young Master Lu for this! Comrade Jiang Yuan has been unreasonable beyond measure! These past few days, whenever you were away, she tormented Comrade Song day after day! She demanded this food and that — and when she was refused, she took an axe and smashed open the kitchen cupboards! Everything stored inside she ruined and wasted! Comrade Song had told her plainly: take anything else you wish — but leave the pear cream set aside for Division Commander Lu alone. You suffer from winter coughs, and it soothes you best. In a fit of pique, she went to the yard and released the military dog! She set it upon Comrade Song! Frightened out of her wits, Comrade Song dared not remain in the house! When Jiang Yuan returned late — she spread lies that Comrade Song was abroad behaving shamefully, using words too foul to repeat! Comrade Song endured it all night, waiting patiently until dawn to speak with her — and upon knocking, Jiang Yuan seized a basin of cold water and poured it over her from head to foot! Autumn has come — mornings and evenings are bitter cold — and Comrade Song’s health is already delicate!”
The kitchen cupboards had indeed been smashed open by Jiang Yuan’s axe. With Lu Qinian and Lu Ze away, Song Yuhua had dropped every pretence of kindness — eating behind closed doors, locking every scrap of food away, leaving Jiang Yuan nothing. That alone Jiang Yuan might have endured — she could eat elsewhere. But it was the daily malice: bowls left filthy, deliberate slights, mocking remarks behind her back, even sneaking a flea-ridden stray cat into her bed at night. Enough was enough. Jiang Yuan had taken an axe, broken the locks — and helped herself. She had fed the leftover meat to Dashun rather than leave it for those two. As for the dog being set upon Song Yuhua — pure fabrication. Song Yuhua feared the dog, and she knew she had treated him unkindly — and so she imagined he would bite her.
Song Yuhua had deliberately left the kitchen wrecked — evidence prepared in advance. She had meant to wait longer, but Jiang Yuan’s cutting words the previous evening had stung too deeply. She had broken in at dawn.
Jiang Yuan knew none of these details mattered to Lu Qinian. He did not care about food or cupboards or bickering.
“Let us set aside kitchens and dogs for now,” Jiang Yuan said, meeting his gaze. “Let us speak only of this morning and the water. Song Yuhua — the Division Commander gave a clear order: Lu Ze is not to leave his post without permission. He is your son, yes — but he wears the uniform. He is an officer, raised and trained by the people and this army to serve and protect. For an officer — the nation comes before family. Yet you — merely because you dislike me — summoned him home with a single telephone call. Your grievance matters more than military duty? If he had been on a mission — would you still have called him away, to come running home and fight your quarrels for you?”