Chapter 73: Alive

Chapter 73: Alive

In an instant, she guessed the hypocritical intentions of Scholar Fan, who was putting on a show of righteousness.

To gain a good reputation and build up his standing.

Marriage is all about parental consent and the matchmaker's word.

The marriage between Scholar Fan and Feng Jinyu, with a matchmaker's visit and Old Lady Feng's consent, was perfectly proper.

Moreover, in almost everyone's eyes, Feng Jinyu was climbing above her station.

Now, with Feng Jinyu seeking death, others would only think that Feng Jinyu was neither chaste nor virtuous, nor filial, bringing shame to her elders.

Scholar Fan, who was determined to fulfill his promise, would instead gain a reputation as a virtuous gentleman who keeps his word.

As long as this reputation spreads far and wide, Old Scholar could transform into a sought-after figure, favored by local officials.

No wonder he was still just a scholar at his age. A fish eye cannot pass for a pearl, and foul-smelling black water cannot mix with ink.

With a slight shift of her gaze, Lu Mingchao looked at the young man beside Scholar Fan.

He had perfectly inherited Old Scholar's triangular eyes and bulbous nose.

At least Old Scholar had studied for decades and could put on some airs of scholarly arrogance. This young man, with bones lighter than three taels, could be described euphemistically as frivolous and shallow, or more bluntly as what the older generation would call a "good-for-nothing."

He wasn't even as good-looking as the second young master of the Sun family.

Scholar Fan pretended to nod politely, "Sister-in-law, who is this?"

Looking at the woman's married hairstyle, he felt a pang of regret and pity.

Feng Jinyu's mother frowned impatiently, "Don't call me sister-in-law yet."

Aren't scholars supposed to be the most particular about rules and decorum?

Until the wedding ceremony is completed, the term "sister-in-law" should not be uttered by Scholar Fan.

The more she looked at Scholar Fan, the older he appeared!

"This is the wife of Xie from our village. I brought her to see Jinyu."

After saying this, Feng Jinyu's mother led Lu Mingchao through the small door on the west side.

Scholar Fan, with a gentle and amiable smile, wanted to follow, but Lu Mingchao pushed the door shut behind her, "Scholar Fan, even a rat has its skin, but a man without dignity?"

In front of everyone, Scholar Fan still wanted to enter Feng Jinyu's boudoir. Was he afraid Feng Jinyu wasn't dying fast enough?

Scholar Fan awkwardly wiped the dust off his nose and sat back down, disgruntled.

Fortunately, the surrounding people were all crude, ignorant farmers who couldn't understand the young woman's cutting words.

"Why does it feel like Scholar Fan is rushing to marry Jinyu?" Feng Jinyu's mother muttered softly as she led the way.

Lu Mingchao frowned slightly and scoffed.

The three great joys of a middle-aged man: promotion, wealth, and the death of his wife.

Feng Jinyu could provide Scholar Fan with the ladder he had long sought to climb upward.

So what if you have no power, influence, or money? What scholars really want is fame.

With fame, you get support from above and flattery from below, making you feel young again.

As soon as they entered the room, the strong stench of blood hit them.

Feng Jinyu lay still on the bed, her eyes closed, her face as pale as a sheet of paper. Blood soaked the cloth on her forehead, trickling down and smearing her face.

A wooden basin by the bed held water now turned red.

Lu Mingchao sighed, "Feng Jinyu's mother, go get a clean basin of water."

Feng Jinyu's mother picked up the basin, stammering, "Before I left, her mother-in-law was here taking care of her. I didn’t mean to abandon her to die."

"I know," Lu Mingchao said softly. "Go on, Feng Jinyu's mother."

Lu Mingchao carefully peeled back the layers of the soaked cloth with tweezers, revealing a horrifying wound.

Her entire forehead was a gruesome, bloody mess.

No wonder Huaiqian and Feng Jinyu's mother thought she might not make it.

Lu Mingchao gently cleaned the wound with saline solution, then evenly spread a clotting ointment and wrapped it with gauze.

When Feng Jinyu's mother returned with the basin, Lu Mingchao soaked a cloth and gently wiped away the dried blood from Feng Jinyu's face.

Even if she didn’t make it, the bold and outspoken Feng Jinyu deserved to be clean.

Lu Mingchao leaned over Feng Jinyu's bed and whispered, "Jinyu, only by staying alive can things turn around."

The wound on her forehead was serious.

Feng Jinyu's lack of will to live was just as concerning.

"If you really don’t wake up, that heartless Old Scholar will take your memorial tablet into his home. He’ll use your death to polish his image as a perfect gentleman, climb the ranks, live in a grand mansion, wear gold and jade, feast on delicacies and fine wines, be praised and bask in wealth and glory."

"And you, in the underworld, will still bear the surname Fan, acting as a concubine to the Old Scholar’s long-dead wife, serving tea, enduring beatings and scoldings, never finding peace. When the Old Scholar dies, you’ll have another master to serve, and then you’ll truly be helpless, with no one to help you."

"Are you willing?"

"You clearly would rather die than marry the Old Scholar, but you’ve suffered, bled, and lost your life, yet no one respects your wishes. So how can you die?"

"If no one listens to you, keep speaking."

"Your death would truly fulfill others."

"Would you want to spend eternity with the Old Scholar, like spoiled meat no one would buy?"

Feng Jinyu's mother: These words are spine-chilling.

Xiao Ming's mouth is as sharp as ever.

Lu Mingchao didn’t know if the unconscious Feng Jinyu could hear, but it was worth a try.

Thinking this, Lu Mingchao spoke even more mercilessly.

If it doesn’t spark a will to live, maybe it will spark some rebellious spirit.

In short, the core idea is: "Only by living can your voice possibly be heard, and your wishes possibly respected."

Feng Jinyu came down with a fever, her cheeks, pale from excessive blood loss, turning red and hot.

Another frantic attempt to bring down her fever followed.

Feng Jinyu’s mother’s eyes lit up. “Xiao Ming, could it be that Jinyu heard what you said and got so angry that she ran a fever?”

If she could hear and her body was responding, there was still hope.

“Perhaps so.”

Lu Mingchao pried open Feng Jinyu’s mouth and forced down a mixture of powdered fever-reducing medicine and water.

Once the mouth was open, Lu Mingchao forced down another spoonful of anti-inflammatory medicine.

“Where is Old Lady Feng?” Lu Mingchao sat exhaustedly on a chair in the corner, her faint breathing echoing in the quiet air.

“She passed out from exhaustion.”

“At her age, the shock was too much—she just couldn’t handle it.”

Lu Mingchao calmed her breathing. “Why was she so insistent on having Jinyu marry Fan Xiucai?”

“Fan Xiucai’s practically old enough to be her father, isn’t he?”

“I remember how you warned me against marrying Xie Yan. What does your mother-in-law even see in him? His age, his rotten character, or the fact that he’s a widower with two children?”

“Men dread the wrong career; women dread the wrong husband. A bad marriage means a lifetime of misery.”

“You understand this wisdom—does Old Lady Feng not?”

Feng Jinyu’s mother set down the wet cloth, her throat tightening as if a claw were squeezing it, making it hard to breathe.

“Of course, it’s all because of me.”