Chapter 93 The Wu Family

Chapter 93 The Wu Family

She spoke vaguely. On ordinary days, Old Madam Jiang would have questioned her, but now, staring at Concubine Tao's tightly closed door, she didn't feel like saying a word. No matter how much she disliked Concubine Tao, the Jiang family's offspring was ultimately the most important. Still, she couldn't help but be angry at Jiang Fulang for being so reckless.

Jiang Fulang shuffled forward to protest. "I just didn't want her to get jostled on the street while she was heavily pregnant. So I told her to stay home. I didn't push her... Ah!"

Before Jiang Ye's breathing had even steadied, he slapped him and then gasped for breath. Without even glancing at Jiang Fulang, he growled, "Go back to your room and stay put. Don't go out for the rest of this month."

The Jiang household was brightly lit that night. It wasn't until midnight that the cries of a newborn were heard—faint, almost inaudible. But the Jiang family's joy spread to all the neighbors.

Meng Wan was woken from his sleep by the noise of people. Groggily, he woke up in Song Tingzhou's arms. "Hmm?"

Song Tingzhou, eyes still closed, patted him a few times. "It's nothing. Go back to sleep."

The familiar scent enveloped him tightly, and Meng Wan fell back into peaceful sleep.

He woke up feeling refreshed. The weather was fine, and Meng Wan even drank an extra half bowl of congee at breakfast compared to usual.

After Song Tingzhou went to the government school, he accompanied Chang Jinhua in planting seeds in the courtyard.

"Wan Geer, where do you think we should plant the cucumbers?" Chang Jinhua asked Meng Wan, holding a hoe.

Meng Wan casually pointed at the corner. "Weren't they planted there last year? Just plant them in the corner again."

Chang Jinhua wasn't satisfied. "They didn't grow very well in the corner last year. Let's plant them somewhere else this year."

Meng Wan took a turn around the courtyard. "Then plant them in the middle of the yard."

Chang Jinhua glared at him. "Isn't the middle of the yard planted with a jujube tree? And there's a stone table and stone stools!"

Meng Wan shrugged. "Then plant them next to the jujube tree. Let the cucumber vines climb the tree. That way we won't have to set up trellises."

"That's just sophistry..."

Just as the mother-in-law and daughter-in-law were bickering, Old Madam Jiang from next door came to visit in person with a servant.

"Huaniang, busy with your daughter-in-law?"

Chang Jinhua put down the hoe and went to greet her. "I'm just moving around because I have nothing to do. How can that be called busy? Please come in."

Old Madam Jiang was all smiles. "I won't stay. I still have to go to other houses."

The servant carried a basket. Old Madam Jiang took out six red-dyed eggs from it. "The young one in my house has given me a grandson. I've come to share the joy with everyone. Your house is the first. Next year, Wan Geer will give your Song family one too."

One never refuses good fortune. Chang Jinhua smiled and said, "Then this is a great happiness for you. When the child is a month old, we'll come to beg for a cup of wedding wine. Wan Geer, come and accept the joy."

Meng Wan wiped his hands with a handkerchief, took the eggs, thanked Old Madam Jiang, and said some congratulatory words. Old Madam Jiang left the Song house cheerfully and went to other houses to deliver red eggs.

"Joy makes people spirited. Last time I saw Old Madam Jiang, she was sitting still at home. Today, her legs seem much more nimble," Chang Jinhua said, looking at the screen wall at home in surprise.

"Why isn't Jiang Fulang the one delivering eggs?" Bi Yun wondered.

Meng Wan handed all the eggs to Bi Yun. "There must be some reason for it."

Chang Jinhua and Meng Wan spent half the morning planting vegetables in the yard. When they got hungry at noon, they asked Bi Yun to make some dough-drop soup. It was quick; it would be done in a moment.

Meng Wan loved leafy vegetables. That morning he had bought fresh spinach at the market entrance. Bi Yun washed and trimmed it, cut it into small pieces, and put it into the soup. It was cooked in no time.

Now the courtyard also had a stone table and stone stools, just under the jujube tree. Meng Wan carried the dough-drop soup to the stone table and ate it with a spoon in small mouthfuls. Occasionally, he could hear the hearty laughter of Jiang Ye next door. Having finally gotten a son at the age of forty, he seemed overjoyed.

In the morning, the sun was shining brightly. In the afternoon, somehow clouds suddenly gathered, and a light drizzle began to fall.

"Rain is good. It just so happens we just planted vegetables. It saves us from watering," Chang Jinhua said, opening the window on the kang and looking at the rain.

Meng Wan walked under the eaves holding an umbrella. "Have you forgotten that your son is still on the road?"

Chang Jinhua exclaimed, "Oh, that's right. Hurry and tell Xue Sheng to take an umbrella to the government school."

After moving, unless the weather was bad, Song Tingzhou preferred to walk to the government school himself. This morning he had walked, the weather was clear, and he hadn't brought an umbrella. It was almost time for school to let out; wouldn't he get soaked?

"I have nothing to do this afternoon. I'll go along too." Meng Wan held an umbrella and went to the front inverted seat room to call Xue Sheng. He didn't expect Xue Sheng had already put on a straw rain cape and was coming his way.

He led the horse out from the stable in the back courtyard, hitched it to the carriage in front. Meng Wan closed his umbrella and got into the carriage. Chang Jinhua called from the house through the window, "Xue Sheng, the road is slippery in the rain. Drive slowly."

"Yes, I know, Madam." Xue Sheng acknowledged, then removed the threshold and drove the carriage out. He didn't bother to put the threshold back, as they would be back soon anyway.

The open space outside the government school was already filled with many carriages. Xue Sheng found an empty spot to park. He took the umbrella from Meng Wan's hand, planning to hand it to the young master as soon as he saw him.

Meng Wan lifted the carriage curtain to let in air. The drizzle was like cotton, but there was no wind. Changbei was originally dry, and this rain brought a touch of moisture.

They didn't wait long. The gates of the government school began to pour out students. The scholars maintained their composure and didn't run wildly, but their steps were more hurried than usual.

Xue Sheng nimbly broke through the crowd of servants and handed the umbrella to Song Tingzhou. The two got into the carriage smoothly.

Song Tingzhou lifted the carriage curtain and saw Meng Wan smiling with curved eyes, handing him a handkerchief. "Hurry and wipe yourself."

Song Tingzhou took the handkerchief and wiped his face. "It's raining. Why did you come?"

"Are you the only one allowed to pick me up every time? Can't I pick you?" Seeing that Song Tingzhou's hair and clothes were half wet, Meng Wan found a double-layered cloth and draped it over him.

Song Tingzhou held his hand and said softly, "I was afraid you'd catch a cold."

Meng Wan said helplessly, "You'd better pray that you don't catch a cold yourself."

There were really too many carriages around at this moment. Meng Wan instructed Xue Sheng, "Don't rush to leave. Wait until it's less crowded."

They waited in place for a while. Outside, Zhu Zening called out to Song Tingzhou, "Brother Song."

Song Tingzhou lifted the carriage curtain. He and Meng Wan were sitting close together. Zhu Zening on the Zhu family carriage could also see Meng Wan.

"Sister-in-law is here too." He couldn't help feeling envious. How could these two stick together even for such a short time?

Meng Wan smiled and nodded.

Zhu Zening had called Song Tingzhou for nothing else. He just reminded him, "Don't forget to go to the Wu residence together tomorrow. Eat breakfast and meet at his gate."

Zhu Zening himself was nervous about going to the Wu residence. Luckily, he had Song Tingzhou as company.

"I won't forget." Song Tingzhou finished speaking and let down the curtain.

Seeing that the surroundings had opened up a lot, Xue Sheng drove the carriage away.

Meng Wan couldn't help asking Song Tingzhou, "Tomorrow you're going to visit the prefect's residence?"

"Not exactly."

A hint of worry appeared on Song Tingzhou's face. "Brother Wu is sick. He's been on leave from the government school for three days. Brother Zhu sent a visiting card to the Wu residence this morning. Tomorrow morning we'll go together to visit him."

"Sick? What illness is so serious?"

The last Meng Wan heard of Zhao Yuan was when he borrowed money from home, claiming he wanted to buy a farm outside the city. Later, he repaid the money, and the farm matter fizzled out.

Song Tingzhou didn’t know either. "The Wu family hasn’t let out a word, just said he’s ill."

Meng Wan’s heart skipped a beat. Even though they were in his own carriage, he leaned close to Song Tingzhou’s shoulder, lowering his voice like a thief: "Wasn’t it said earlier that after Juren Wu returned to the Wu family, the Prefect intended to add him to the clan genealogy, but the Prefect’s wife kept blocking it? Could this be some household scheming?"

Song Tingzhou pressed a finger to Meng Wan’s lips. "Don’t speak recklessly," he whispered.

Meng Wan pursed his lips and nodded obediently.

He looked so sweet and handsome that Song Tingzhou withdrew his finger and leaned over to peck his soft lips twice.

"Actually, Brother Wu himself doesn’t want to be on the Wu family clan genealogy either. That’s why it’s been dragged out all these years."

Meng Wan nodded. "Understandable."

After all the humiliation over the years, not benefiting at all from his prefect father’s status, now that he was showing promise and the metropolitan exam was approaching—a single leap to success within reach—why should Prefect Wu reap the rewards?

If he were Wu Zhaoyuan, having been independent for so long, he probably wouldn’t want to join the clan genealogy either. Not for anything else, just to save face.

By the time they arrived home, half the meal was already cooked. Chang Jinhua had also boiled a pot of ginger soup for them to drink on a small stove.

That evening, Meng Wan prepared the gifts for the next day’s visit. The Wu family probably wouldn’t think much of these modest gifts, but they couldn’t be too shabby either. He prepared two packs of slightly better bird’s nest as gifts.

Song Tingzhou and Ze Ning had already requested leave from their instructor at the academy. The next morning, they each took their gifts and met at the Wu family gate before calling on them together.

Prefect Wu wouldn’t stoop to receive them personally; the eldest son by the legal wife received them instead.

The Wu family’s eldest legitimate son was over thirty and only held the title of *xiucai* (scholar). He also studied in the prefectural city but had never been in the same class as Song Tingzhou and the others. He spoke politely enough but was noticeably cold when mentioning his half-brother.

After a brief exchange of pleasantries, a servant led Song Tingzhou and Ze Ning to Wu Zhaoyuan’s courtyard.

In the five-courtyard mansion, Zhaoyuan occupied the most remote spot. The yard was empty, with neither flowers nor trees planted, nor servants bustling about—it looked rather desolate.

A faint medicinal smell greeted them as they entered. A fire stove stood in the center of the yard, where Zhaoyuan’s personal servant, Qiu Ying, was preparing the herbal medicine.

Seeing Song Tingzhou and the others enter with gifts, Qiu Ying threw down his fan. His eyes, swollen to mere slits, squeezed out a few more tears. "You two gentlemen are finally here," he choked out. "Please go in and see my master quickly."

Seeing him like this, Song Tingzhou and Ze Ning’s hearts both skipped a beat, dark thoughts flashing through their minds. They hurried into Wu Zhaoyuan’s bedroom.

Wu Zhaoyuan lay on his side on the *kang*, the blanket pulled down to below his belly. His hair was stringy, his face was beet red, and his closed eyes were ringed with dark circles. His breathing was heavy, with a rasp in his throat.

Anyone could see he was in terrible condition.

Song Tingzhou looked grim—he clearly hadn’t expected Zhaoyuan to be so ill. He stepped closer and called softly, "Zhaoyuan! Zhaoyuan!"

Zhaoyuan seemed to hear his voice. After a struggle, he slowly opened his eyes. "Brother Song... Ze Ning... you’ve come. Excuse me... I can’t get up." His voice was hoarse and weak, as if uttering those words took all his strength, and he closed his eyes again.

"Just three days since we last saw him, and Zhaoyuan has become like this?" Ze Ning approached to look at the man on the *kang*. His chest tightened, and tears fell uncontrollably.

Song Tingzhou called out to Qiu Ying, who had just brought in the medicine. "What illness does your master have? Is he still conscious? What did the doctor say?"

Qiu Ying set the medicine bowl on the table and wiped his reddened eyes. "A few days ago, the master caught a mild cold. It wasn’t serious. The household is controlled by the madam, and she has never liked the master, so he didn’t make a fuss. He figured he'd just keep warm at night and get better. But overnight, his condition took a turn for the worse. He couldn’t even stand. That’s when I went to ask the madam to call a doctor."

Qiu Ying sniffled. "When the doctor came, he felt the master’s pulse and said something about a worsening cold—I didn’t catch the details—and prescribed several doses of medicine."

At this point, Qiu Ying picked up the medicine bowl and broke down sobbing. "But I’ve been giving him the medicine on time every day, and he just doesn’t get better. Now he can barely wake up a few times a day."

Seeing him like this, Ze Ning and Song Tingzhou’s hearts ached. Ze Ning blew his nose with a handkerchief and asked hoarsely, "Did you call another doctor later?"

"Yesterday, the madam brought another doctor, but he didn’t say anything conclusive either—only upped the dosage a bit." Qiu Ying wiped his tears with his sleeve, sat on a small stool by the *kang*, and tried to feed Zhaoyuan the medicine. But the man was unconscious and couldn’t swallow on his own, so only a third of the bowl went in.

The courtyard wasn’t very large, but with only Qiu Ying tending to it, it looked pretty deserted. Song Tingzhou scanned the room and suddenly asked, "Wu Zhaoyuan is so seriously ill—why is only you serving him?"

Qiu Ying was about to get up to refill from the pot outside and replied, "When the master first returned to the family, the master of the house wanted to assign more servants to his courtyard. But the master refused, and the master of the house got angry. Since then, it’s been just the two of us living here. Occasionally, menial servants come to sweep the yard."

Ze Ning interjected, "And what about his biological mother, Madam Fan? Why hasn’t she been here taking care of him?"

Hatred flickered in Qiu Ying’s eyes. "The day before yesterday, she came to his bedside and cried until she passed out—the master of the house carried her away. And she hasn’t been back since."

Ze Ning and Song Tingzhou looked at each other. Some mother, huh?

Leaving the Wu estate, both men felt heavy-hearted. Ze Ning was a few years younger and hadn't been through much hardship, so he was less composed and just said whatever popped into his head. "Zhaoyuan probably won’t hold out much longer. My dad was in trade and knows this doctor..."

Song Tingzhou cut him off. "Let’s go to my place first."

Ze Ning was startled for a moment, then instinctively looked back at the Wu family’s grand compound. The more he looked, the more it seemed like a monster's gaping mouth, and it made his skin crawl even in broad daylight. He hurried to catch up to Song Tingzhou.