Chapter Seventy-One: Sudden News of Tragedy

The spring examinations were imminent. Ankang was busy studying and preparing, while Madam Luo was occupied with packing his things. After delivering the embroidery to the Red Silk Workshop, she had taken no more orders; the household no longer needed that bit of money. She went to the market and bought two bolts of brocade, two bolts of gold-threaded silk, two bolts of patterned silk, one bolt of plain silk, and several pounds of cotton. She even sought out the hunters in the village, asking them to save some animal pelts for her.

“Mother, last year’s cotton robe will do for me. You needn’t make any more,” Ankang said, not wanting Madam Luo to tire herself.

“The capital lies in the north, and the weather is cold. It’s better to take more clothes. Besides, cotton robes are worn by commoners. You are now a scholar, and should wear brocade and silk.” Madam Luo wiped the needle on her hair as she sewed, speaking as she worked.

“Mother, I don’t care for such things. Cotton robes are more comfortable,” Ankang replied with a smile.

Madam Luo shot him a look. “Wear cotton robes at home, then. One’s attire must match one’s status, and so must one’s conduct. These are rules set by His Majesty. We must abide by them.”

“Just make two for changing, no need for so many,” Ankang relented.

“The weather is cold. Clothes won’t dry quickly after washing. What will you do if you have nothing to wear? Better to make a few more,” Madam Luo insisted.

“Big brother, let mother do as she wishes,” Anyi laughed, quoting, “A loving mother’s thread, sewn into a wanderer’s clothes. Meticulously stitched before departure, fearing her child’s late return.”

Ankang recited the concluding lines, “Who says a child’s heart is shallow? It can repay the warmth of spring.” He no longer objected.

Madam Luo had so many clothes to make that even with Anyi assisting, it wasn’t enough; Luo Hongmei and Luo Cuimei came to help as well.

One day, the four women were busy with their work inside, Ankang was reading in another room, and Anjian sat by the passage, sorting medicinal herbs in the breeze. The half-closed main door was suddenly kicked open, and Aunt Liu stormed in, shouting, “Luo Qiumei, come out here!”

Madam Luo hurried out. Seeing it was Aunt Liu, she asked coldly, “What brings you here?”

“What brings me here?” Aunt Liu snorted, dragging Zhuqiao from behind her. “Look at what your son did to my Zhuqiao! You’d better give me an explanation today. Don’t think just because your family produced a scholar you can do as you please.”

“I was the one who hit him, it has nothing to do with my big brother. If you have a problem, come at me. I did hit him, because he was spouting nonsense,” Anjian shouted angrily.

News of Ankang’s journey to the capital for the exams had spread through the village. Everyone felt proud that someone from their midst might become an official. Zhuqiao, dissatisfied with the An family, spread rumors that Ankang might not succeed.

One of Anjian’s followers overheard and told him. Anjian, hot-tempered as ever, found Zhuqiao and beat him, leaving him battered and bruised.

Zhuqiao went home crying. Aunt Liu, seeing her son’s injuries, was furious and dragged him over to seek justice.

“Anjian, adults are talking. You’re a child, stay out of it,” Madam Luo scolded sternly.

Anjian obediently withdrew.

Madam Luo took out her purse, counted out twenty coins, and handed them to Aunt Liu. “This is for Zhuqiao’s medicine. Take it.”

“Twenty coins?” Aunt Liu spat at her. “Are you sending away beggars?”

“Your family gives twenty coins to beggars? That’s generous,” Luo Hongmei mocked.

“How much do you want?” Madam Luo asked in a low tone.

“At least an ounce of silver,” Aunt Liu demanded, sticking her neck out.

“An ounce of silver? Do you think your Zhuqiao is made of gold? Even selling him wouldn’t fetch much, yet you dare ask for an ounce—you really have no shame,” Luo Cuimei scolded.

Madam Luo took out another twenty coins, handing both strings of coins to Aunt Liu. “If you want to use this as a pretext for extortion, I’m not afraid to go to the authorities.”

Aunt Liu’s mouth twitched, but she grabbed the forty coins and left with Zhuqiao.

Madam Luo turned to Anjian. “Go to the backyard and squat.”

“Mother, I… Oh,” Anjian hung his head and went to practice horse stance in the backyard.

When Madam Luo and the others returned inside, Anyi sneaked out to watch him, wrinkling her nose in disdain. “Second brother, you’re so foolish. Never hit someone’s face.”

Anjian nodded, accepting her advice. “Next time I’ll hit his belly.”

“If you hit his belly, you might kill him. Hit his backside instead.”

Anjian’s eyes lit up. “That’s good! He won’t dare pull his pants down to complain.”

Ankang coughed lightly and walked over.

Anyi felt guilty, as though caught doing something wrong. She forced a laugh, “Big brother.”

Ankang smiled at Anyi, then put on a stern face for Anjian. “Second brother, stay here and reflect. Also, keep your rough ways to yourself. Don’t teach bad habits to your sister.”

Anjian was dumbfounded. Wasn’t it his sister who taught him? How did it become him teaching her?

“Sister, the sun is strong here. Let’s go back inside,” Ankang said, leading Anyi away.

Anjian squatted in the sun for nearly half an hour, sweating profusely before Madam Luo relented.

Anyi handed him a cup of herbal tea to cool off.

Anjian drank it, wiped his mouth, and sighed with relief. “That’s much better, thank you.”

As the Mid-Autumn Festival approached, the weather cooled. Han Songyan returned the day before the festival, coming straight to Jingtang Village without resting. “Xier, the medicine passed inspection.”

Anyi was not surprised. The rapid-effect heart pills had been used for decades in modern times, proven effective. As long as her memory was accurate, they were sure to pass.

Han Songyan took the formula from Anyi’s hands, thanking her again with sincerity. “Xier, thank you.”

Anyi sighed, “Fourth Young Master, you’ve thanked me many times already.”

“Songyan, it’s I who owe you thanks—for enduring such hardship to protect my sister’s reputation,” Ankang said earnestly.

Han Songyan smiled. “Let’s dispense with these courtesies.”

Anyi and Han Songyan spent five days evaporating the remaining resin into crystals, then mixed it with Ligusticum to produce several hundred heart pills.

Han Songyan took the medicine to the city and returned two days later with five hundred taels of silver, inviting Ankang, “Brother An, I think you should go to the capital early. Not only to prepare for the exams, but to meet scholars from all over, gather information, and seek out renowned teachers. It will help you.”

Ankang had made great progress in his studies with guidance from the academy’s master, but the spring exams would gather scholars from all over; talents abounded. He was not arrogant, so he felt anxious. Han Songyan’s advice made sense, and he decided to go early.

Madam Luo had expected Ankang to leave at the end of the year. Now, only three sets of clothes were ready; the cotton robes were unfinished.

“Don’t worry, Aunt. There are plenty of ready-made clothes in the capital,” Han Songyan reassured her.

“Zhuzi, take more silver and buy what you need in the capital,” Madam Luo said, stuffing Ankang’s hands with two hundred taels in notes and over ten taels in loose silver. “Don’t be stingy. Spend as needed.”

“Mother, I understand,” Ankang replied, knowing she wouldn’t be at ease unless he took the silver.

Over the next two days, Ankang repeatedly instructed Anjian to take care of their mother and sister, not to start fights, and to try the child scholar exam next year.

Anjian’s head spun from Ankang’s nagging. “Big brother, you’re as long-winded as the old monks in the temple.”

Ankang tapped him. “I only worry you’ll forget everything.”

Anjian plugged his right ear with his finger. “Now it won’t go out the other side.”

Ankang couldn’t help but laugh.

August 26th, an auspicious day for travel, Ankang set out for the capital with Han Songyan, carrying his family’s hopes.

That same day, the capital received news of victory from the expeditionary army. For six years, they had swept through the cities of Ullya, even as emperors changed three times. The expedition did not cease. In early August, they captured the last city, Kulun, and took the Ullya king prisoner, ending a decade of war.

The Emperor, overjoyed, issued rewards for the troops, promoting meritorious officers by three ranks. But such news did not reach the distant common folk. Anyi, in her tranquil life, had no inkling that everything was about to change.

With Ankang gone, Anyi no longer needed to help with sewing. She spent her days in the herb garden, tinkering with her medicines.

By mid-September, the villagers were busy harvesting late rice in the fields. One afternoon, a man with a broken leg, leaning on crutches, arrived on the path into the village. At the entrance, he saw the tall locust tree, hugged it, and burst into tears.

The children playing at the village entrance were frightened by his strange behavior and scattered.

Leaning on his crutches, the man hobbled toward the west end of the village, stopping outside a house. He pushed open the half-closed door and saw an elderly woman squinting as she stitched shoe soles.

“Mother,” he called.

The old woman looked up, her eyes blurry. “Who are you? Who are you looking for? Are you thirsty? Wait, I’ll fetch you some water.”

“Mother,” the man cried miserably, kneeling. “Mother, it’s me, Erhuzi. I’ve come home.”

“Erhuzi?” The old woman couldn’t believe it, stood up, squinted to see him more clearly, rubbed her eyes. “Are you Erhuzi?”

“Mother, I am Erhuzi, your son. I’ve come home,” Erhuzi wept.

The old woman finally believed that her son, whom she had waited for ten years, had returned. She rushed to embrace him. “Erhuzi, my child, you haven’t written for years. I feared you were gone. My child, my child!”

News of Zhu Erhu’s return spread instantly.

Ten years ago, the court conscripted soldiers. Every village sent men; Zhu Erhu was one of them. For the first three or four years, he sent letters, but then nothing. Villagers assumed he had died far away, though his family still hoped.

Zhu Erhu had returned, missing a leg, but alive.

Families with sons conscripted came to ask for news. Zhu Erhu explained, “After we enlisted, we were together at first. Later, Qinghe and I were assigned to the expeditionary army. Some went to the Dingxi forces, others to the Ninghai army. I don’t know about them.”

He didn’t know the fate of the others, but of An Qinghe, he was certain. He told Madam Luo with sorrow, “Sister-in-law, Qinghe is gone.”

“Gone?” Madam Luo’s face went pale, lips trembling. “What do you mean, gone?”

Zhu Erhu lowered his head. “Sister-in-law, Qinghe is dead.”

“Dead?” Madam Luo’s eyes glazed over. “You say Qinghe is dead? No, no, that’s impossible. He promised he would return! He will come back! This isn’t true, I don’t believe it!”

“Are you sure? Are you certain my father is dead? Did you see it yourself?” Anjian grabbed Zhu Erhu’s collar, eyes wide, questioning him urgently.

“When we attacked Hening, I was wounded and collapsed. I saw Qinghe struck from behind. He couldn’t have survived,” Zhu Erhu said firmly.

“You only saw him struck—what makes you so sure he’s dead? You survived with a broken leg; why couldn’t he?” Anyi was angry at Zhu Erhu’s rash declaration.

“I crawled out from a pile of corpses. I was unconscious for three months. I survived by luck,” Zhu Erhu retorted bitterly.

“So you’re lucky, but my father must be unlucky? My father isn’t dead; he’ll come back. He will return!” Anjian supported Madam Luo. “Mother, don’t listen to him. Father will come back. Let’s go home and wait for him.”

Madam Luo, distraught, let Anjian guide her home.

Others watched the three leave with sympathy. When there was no news, one could still hope; with certainty, hope died.

Luo Fugui and others came to comfort Madam Luo. “Qiumei, Qinghe…”

“Uncle, Qinghe isn’t dead. He said he’d come back—he always keeps his word. I believe him, I believe he’ll return to see us. He will come back, he will come back, I believe he will come back!” Madam Luo repeated her words over and over.

The crowd, seeing her like this, felt grief well up, their eyes reddening as they turned away to wipe their tears.

Anyi brought a bowl of calming soup. “Mother, drink this.”

Madam Luo, lost in her misery, drank when Anyi told her to. Soon the medicine took effect, and she fell into a deep sleep.

Luo Fugui noted that Anjian and Anyi remained composed, not overwhelmed by the bad news, and felt somewhat reassured. “I’ll try to find someone to inquire about your father. If he’s alive, we’ll find him; if he’s dead, we’ll see his body. Even if we can’t, we need definite news—don’t rely solely on Zhu Erhu’s words. Take good care of your mother.”

“Granduncle, we’ll take care of her,” Anjian replied.

Luo Fugui sighed and led the Luo family away.

The An siblings ate a simple meal, washed, and went to bed, but sleep eluded them that night.

—Author’s Note—

Sorry, I had to take my son to piano lessons over the weekend and got home late, so the update is delayed. My apologies!