Chapter 69 Mother and Son

Chapter 69 Mother and Son

For several days, Xia Rongrong had been avoiding Lu Tong.

In the past, when Lu Tong was at the Renxin Medical Clinic during the day, Xia Rongrong and her servant would follow to help. But these days, they stayed hidden in the courtyard, taking detours whenever they encountered Lu Tong. This behavior was too obvious; Du Changqing had asked about it several times, but Xia Rongrong evaded his questions, making him think they had quarreled in private.

Outside, dark clouds rolled overhead. Yin Zheng helped Lu Tong move a white porcelain statue of Bodhisattva Guanyin into a small shrine cabinet in the room.

The Guanyin statue was brought back from an incense and candle shop on West Street. The shop owner claimed it had been blessed by a master from Wan En Temple, and Lu Tong found the small statue intricately carved and lifelike. She also noticed that there was an empty shrine cabinet in her bedroom that could fit the statue perfectly, so she spent five taels of silver to bring the porcelain Guanyin home.

With the white-robed Guanyin placed in the small shrine cabinet, it no longer felt as empty.

Yin Zheng looked around and smiled. "It fits perfectly. It just needs a niche. We can find one when we have time."

Lu Tong nodded and glanced outside the courtyard. "Let's go."

It was mid-afternoon, and the air was oppressively heavy. Dark clouds loomed, suggesting an impending storm.

Du Changqing was napping at the clinic table. Seeing them leave, he lazily raised his head. "Don't forget your umbrella."

"Got it."

After their figures disappeared outside the clinic, Xia Rongrong lifted the felt curtain and came out, looking outside and asking Du Changqing, "It's about to rain. Where is Doctor Lu going?"

"Wu Xiucai's mother passed away." Du Changqing wiped his face.

"They're going to offer condolences."

...

The wind was fierce, blowing the white paper lanterns under the eaves with a loud rustling sound.

In the courtyard, layers of mourning drapes and piles of paper offerings filled the space. In the flickering shadows of the perpetual lamp, a black lacquered coffin lay heavily in the memorial hall.

Wu Youcai, dressed in coarse linen mourning clothes, knelt beside a wooden basin in front of the coffin, burning paper money.

Wu's mother had passed away a few days ago. The fortune-teller He Xiezi had calculated the auspicious time for burial and left. Wu Youcai had no other relatives in Shengjing, and the neighbors on West Street had helped with the funeral arrangements and stayed to keep vigil for two days, offering words of consolation before gradually dispersing—everyone had their own lives to live.

He was alone, keeping vigil.

His mother's clothes were neatly folded and placed aside, ready to be buried with her. Wu Youcai's gaze fell on the folded clothes.

Embroidered on the clothes was a cluster of golden flowers, each with six petals, resembling smiling faces.

They were daylilies.

Wu Youcai's eyes gradually turned red as he gazed at them.

Wu's mother was frugal, rarely buying new clothes. A single linen garment could last her over a decade. Sometimes, when the elbows or knees wore out, she would patch them with discarded threads and embroider flowers to cover the patches.

Daylilies grow on the steps, while the wanderer travels afar; the loving mother leans against the door, unseen by the daylilies.

Daylilies symbolize maternal love.

Mother...

Tears rolled down the scholar's cheeks.

There are countless sorrows in life, none greater than death and separation. Even though he knew his mother's time was near, when the day finally came, Wu Youcai still felt it was sudden.

Just the previous evening, she had told him that she had been having a poor appetite and wanted to eat cold mung bean noodles with white rice the next day. By nightfall, when he went to bathe her, her body was already cold.

The neighbors who came to offer condolences all consoled him, saying that his mother passed peacefully without suffering, a blessed passing, urging him not to grieve. But even after so many days, Wu Youcai still couldn't let go.

He hadn't yet achieved high honors, hadn't earned a title for his mother, and hadn't given her a single day of comfort or praise. How could she have left so soon?

Without giving him another chance.

The yellow paper in his hand crumpled as he sobbed uncontrollably, his figure as lonely as a stray dog, tears falling into the fire, turning to ashes along with the paper money.

The wind grew stronger outside.

The long wind stirred the white banners hanging in the courtyard, the sky darkening like dusk, with faint lightning flashing through the black clouds.

Amidst the wind, a faint knock on the gate echoed. Wu Youcai was startled.

Who could be coming at this hour?

The neighbors who had come to help had already gone home, and even Hu Yuanwai, who cared deeply for him, had a family to look after. The neighbors on West Street who had some connection had already offered condolences, and the Wu family had no other relatives.

As he pondered this, the knocking stopped, followed by a creaking sound.

The gate opened, and someone walked in.

Wu Youcai looked up.

Dark clouds pressed down, casting a gloomy shadow over the memorial hall. Paper money fluttered like snow in the courtyard, and footsteps approached steadily.

A woman, draped in a plain white dress, her hair adorned with a frost-colored silk flower, appeared amidst the flickering candlelight and swirling paper money, her features gradually becoming visible, as if emerging from a fleeting dream, almost unreal.

Wu Youcai stared blankly at the woman, wondering: Why is she wearing mourning clothes?

She stopped in front of him, looking down at him. "Master Wu."

Wu Youcai suddenly came to his senses.

"Doctor Lu?"

The visitor was Lu Tong, the resident doctor at Renxin Medical Clinic.

He shivered and hurriedly stood up: "Why has Doctor Lu come?"

Since his mother's passing, he had been in a daze, only now realizing that it had been a while since he last saw Lu Tong.

Wu Youcai was extremely grateful to this Doctor Lu. Previously, this Doctor Lu had treated his mother, saving her from the brink of death, and later sent Miss Yin Zheng to deliver medicinal herbs for his mother every few days.

Wu Youcai knew that the little money he paid for the medicine was far less than what Lu Tong had given him. He could not repay her, so he kept his gratitude deep within his heart.

Lu Tong placed the gold ingot wrapped in white cloth into Wu Youcai's hands.

Wu Youcai hesitated: "Doctor Lu, I can't..."

But Lu Tong had already walked into the mourning hall, squatting down by the burning brazier and adding yellow paper to the flames.

Wu Youcai was taken aback.

The day was gloomy, and the mourning hall was brightly lit. She wore a white robe, pure and clean, with flowers in her hair like snow. In this murky sky, she looked like a ghost bride crawling out of a grave, young, beautiful, frail, and chilling.

Wu Youcai felt a chill run through him for no reason.

Lu Tong asked: "The autumn examinations begin on the first day of next month. Are you going to take them?"

Wu Youcai was startled and replied: "Yes."

He squatted down beside the brazier, joining Lu Tong in burning paper money. The living did not know if the dead could receive this money, but they needed something to hold onto.

Wu Youcai said: "It's a pity my mother won't see it..."

In past years, whenever he returned from the exams, his mother would wait for him at home. But this year, he was alone. When he finished and came back, there would be no light shining through the windows, no sight of his mother sewing by the lamp.

As he was lost in grief, he suddenly heard Lu Tong speak: "Actually, this is a good thing."

Wu Youcai looked up, not understanding her words.

"Even if you took the exams this year, you wouldn't pass. It's better for her to leave with hope than to face disappointment again. Isn't that good for her?"

Her voice was as melodious as ever, but her words were unusually harsh.

Wu Youcai was stunned for a moment before realizing the sarcasm in her words. He looked at Lu Tong angrily, his face turning red.

"You!"

"Angry?" Lu Tong smiled slightly, adding another piece of paper money to the fire. "Do you know that your mother's illness wasn't terminal? If treated earlier, she wouldn't have lived just these few years."

"Pity it was delayed."

Wu Youcai's face turned pale.

He knew it well.

When his mother first felt unwell, she didn't tell him. She was focused on selling fish, hoping to save money for his studies, unwilling to let her illness disrupt her business.

Later, when her condition worsened, she secretly visited a doctor. The doctor told her that she needed rest and expensive herbs, but she couldn't bear the cost and worried about her business, so she endured the pain.

Only when she could no longer hide her illness did she tell Wu Youcai. By then, it was too late. It couldn't be cured by mere rest and herbs.

Every word she spoke seemed to pierce his heart, "If she had been treated early with nourishing herbs and rest, she would have recovered. But because she wanted you to focus on your studies and not miss the chance to gain fame, she missed the opportunity."

"It was you who delayed her."

A distant thunderclap echoed.

Wu Youcai covered his face, letting out a pained moan.

He murmured: "It was me, my fault... my incompetence... my lack of ability..."

If it weren't for him, his mother wouldn't have sacrificed so much! He had always pursued fame, believing himself to be a talent unrecognized, but in truth, he was afraid to admit his mediocrity and failure!

It was he who killed his mother!

The scholar buried his face in his hands, tears streaming down, his sobs filled with sorrow and regret, moving the person beside him.

Lu Tong looked up at the distant sky.

Ordinary people always blame themselves, always finding reasons within themselves, wishing to shoulder all the world's faults.

Did his father and mother also feel this way?

When they learned of Lu Rou's death and Lu Qian's imprisonment, did they also blame themselves for not protecting their children? Did they suffer as deeply as Wu Youcai? Did they weep?

The flames licked at the yellow paper, illuminating the dim mourning hall.

Lu Tong looked down at the sobbing man and after a while, said: "Wu Youcai, you took the exams for the first time at eighteen. It's been twelve years."

"In twelve years, haven't you wondered why you never passed?"

The crying stopped abruptly.

The scholar looked up, his face streaked with tears, and asked in confusion: "What?"

"If you were truly mediocre, why would you persist for twelve years? Isn't it because you believe in your own writing, that you will surely achieve fame and renown?"

She pulled out a folded piece of paper from her sleeve and placed it before Wu Xiucai.

The scholar looked at the paper and murmured: "What is this?"

"It's the list of successful candidates from Shengjing's autumn examinations since your first attempt. The circled names are notorious playboys of Shengjing." Lu Tong continued: "These people, if you inquire, you'll find they have shallow knowledge. Why do they pass, but you don't?"

Wu Youcai looked at her, repeating instinctively: "Why?"

"Because of luck." She curved her eyes slightly. "Do you believe it?"

A flash of light seemed to illuminate his mind, and Wu Youcai vaguely guessed something but dared not say it aloud, only staring at the person before him.

"There are many possibilities," she said, her tone still indifferent. "For example, they might have bribed the officials in charge of grading the exams to manipulate the rankings. Or they might have bribed the chief examiner to have someone else take the exam for them. Or perhaps your exam papers were switched with someone else's, making your ranking someone else's."

"You only have paper, pen, and knowledge, but no money or connections, Mr. Wu. How can you compete for fairness with just these things?"

"Boom—"

Another thunderclap echoed, and a chilling wind howled through the door, as if trying to reach into his heart.

Wu Youcai shook his head. "Impossible... This is impossible..."

"Why is it impossible?" Lu Tong smiled. "Think carefully about the articles you've written over the years. Were they truly that bad?"

It was like a bolt of lightning striking his face, leaving Wu Youcai speechless.

If he didn't have confidence in himself, why would he have persisted for twelve years? He wasn't stubborn or inflexible; if he truly felt there was no hope, he would have sought another path—there are many ways to live, and he didn't need to be fixated on one route.

He was just unwilling to accept defeat.

His scholar friends all praised his writings as brilliant, unmatched by others, and he believed so too. But after twelve years, from a spirited young man to an ordinary middle-aged man, year after year, the golden lotus remained out of reach.

The neighbors' gazes shifted from envy to ridicule and perhaps even pity. He couldn't avoid their expectations, questioning himself every night: Did he really have talent? Could he ever achieve success?

But today, someone told him that his long-held dream had been thwarted because someone had taken away "fairness."

"If it's true," the scholar stammered, his eyes burning with fire, "I will report them. Such cheating is a grave offense, and the Ministry of Rites will thoroughly investigate—"

"Who would believe you?"

"The government will investigate!"

"The government itself is involved. Are they going to investigate themselves?" Lu Tong spoke with a hint of derision. "Perhaps you won't even make it out of the government office alive after reporting this."

Her voice was soft, yet it chilled Wu Youcai's heart completely.

What Lu Tong said was very likely true.

Over the years, he hadn't been without suspicion, but whenever he reached this point, it felt like a taboo, and he dared not think further. It was as if instinctively knowing that thinking deeper would lead to an abyss. But today, someone had torn open the veil of illusion without hesitation, revealing the harsh reality.

His thoughts were a tangled mess, and Wu Youcai looked at Lu Tong, his voice hoarse. "Why are you telling me this?"

Why was she telling him this?

In his daze, she revealed the truth and then forced him to acknowledge the reality that could never be changed, making him realize his own powerlessness.

"Because," she said, "I want to help you."

"Help me?"

Lu Tong smiled faintly.

The coffin was black, the mourning banners white, the boundaries between cold and warmth blurred. Her features were stunning under the lamplight, while the silk flower by her hair seemed vividly alive. Like those demons from strange tales who, on a rainy day, step out of books to make deals with humans.

You know she has ill intentions, but you can't refuse.

She said, "Now the entire examination system has been bought off, and the officials in the Ministry of Rites have been colluding. Over twelve years, countless chief examiners have been replaced, and each time you failed, undeserving candidates passed. Do you know what this means?"

"It means that every year, the chief examiners were bribed," Wu Youcai answered numbly.

"Yes. If the examination fraud isn't addressed, after you mourn your mother and bury her, your future will remain bleak, trapped in mediocrity. This is your fate."

These words were terrifying, and Wu Youcai shivered involuntarily.

He looked at Lu Tong as if she were a bodhisattva descending from hell, his gaze almost reverent, hoping she could show him a way out of this endless abyss.

"Doctor Lu, what should I do?"

Lu Tong asked, "Wu Youcai, do you want fairness?"

"Yes."

"If the officials in the Ministry of Rites have indeed been bribed, and your repeated failures over the years are due to examination fraud, are you willing to expose it, regardless of the cost, even your life?"

"Yes."

"Good. I'll tell you what to do."

Wu Youcai looked at her blankly.

"Reporting it before the exam without evidence will likely get you arrested, or worse, silenced. Unless it's after the exam."

"After the exam?"

"Exactly. After the exam, all the examinees are still in the examination halls. If there are imposters, they can be caught red-handed with their papers. However..."

"However, what?"

"However, you have little influence, and corrupt officials might find a reason to arrest you until after the autumn exams, eliminating any evidence."

"So there's no way?"

"Not entirely. Just make a big fuss."

Wu Youcai was stunned. "Make a big fuss?"

"Indeed," Lu Tong said calmly. "If someone dies in the examination hall, it won't be a small matter that the Ministry of Rites can suppress. The Court of Trial, the Office of Imperial Prisons, and even the Military Command will get involved. The more people involved, the harder it is to downplay the issue. With various interests mixed in, a simple matter becomes complex."

Wu Youcai seized on the key point in her words: "What do you mean by 'cost someone their life?'"

Lu Tong smiled but did not answer.

The sky grew darker, and a fierce wind howled through the courtyard. Lightning flickered intermittently within the clouds, signaling the imminent arrival of a torrential downpour.

Wu Youcai looked at Lu Tong.

The slender silhouette of the woman was enveloped in her plain white dress, and in her delicate palm, there was now an oiled paper package.

Her voice was gentle, laced with a subtle, insidious allure.

"Those examiners are nothing but clothed swine, corrupting the government and allowing the talented to be suppressed by the untalented. If it were me..."

Wu Youcai murmured, "If it were you, what would you do?"

She smiled slightly, placing the paper package into Wu Youcai's hand, leaning close to his ear and speaking each word distinctly.

"Of course, I would kill him."

A thunderclap boomed.

Lightning illuminated the dim ancestral hall, casting light upon her indifferent eyes.

In the courtyard, heavy rain began to fall.