Chapter 158

Madam Fu looked at her daughter's radiant, bashful face with deep satisfaction in her eyes, though she still gently scolded her: "Now that you're married, you must be more attentive. How is it that you didn't know until the physician examined you when you were nearly three months along? And what of Yuwei? Isn't she serving by your side? How could she not know whether your monthly cycle had come or not?"

Seeing her mother upset, Fu Tingjun quickly said, "This isn't Yuwei's fault—it was all my carelessness." She then explained how Yuwei, feeling her own fortune was ill-fated, had kept her distance and not touched her belongings for a month.

Madam Fu's expression softened slightly. "Why didn't you come tell me sooner?" Now the child was already four months along before her daughter had informed her. "Did your father say or do something again?"

Fu Tingjun was taken aback.

Why would her mother suddenly distrust her father so?

That any anomaly should be linked to him?

Her heart stirred slightly, and she said, "It was Zhao Ling who wouldn't allow it. He said that since the child was under three months, he feared it might be startled, and it would be better for me to rest at home." As she spoke, she recalled how ever since Zhao Ling had learned of her pregnancy, the first thing he did upon returning home each day was wash up, and the second was to stroke her belly and talk to the unborn child—which made her feel that all his kindness toward her was solely because of the child in her womb. There was a note of complaint in her tone.

Madam Fu frowned deeply at this. "Since Lord Zhao told you to rest at home, then rest at home—why speak with such displeasure?" She continued, "You are now married and soon to be a mother. How can you still refer to your husband as 'he'? Either call him 'Ninth Master' as others do, or address him respectfully as 'my husband'!"

Fu Tingjun pouted and retorted, "I do call him 'Ninth Master' at home."

Still talking back even after being told off? Quanhui had never been like this in the past. Clearly, this was all Zhao Ling's spoiling!

Madam Fu, who should have been displeased, couldn't help but laugh instead. "I'm saying this for your own good. Would you address their father that way in front of your children in the future?" As she spoke, her gaze at her daughter grew so tender it could melt, and she asked softly, "Have your symptoms been severe these days? Is there anything you particularly crave to eat?"

"I especially crave pickled vegetables," Fu Tingjun said, her mood lifting along with her mother's happiness, a smile dancing at the corners of her eyes and brows. "As for symptoms," her eyes showed a hint of confusion, "I've heard that in the first few months, women throw up whatever they eat, but aside from feeling tired and sleepy all the time, I've had no other reactions. Otherwise, how could I not have even known I was pregnant?" Her eyes dimmed as she spoke, and she lowered her voice, "Mother, do you think this child might..." A flicker of fear crossed her face.

This thought had haunted her mind ever since she'd learned of her pregnancy, but whenever she saw Zhao Ling's overjoyed face, she dared not ask anyone. Today, visiting her mother, she had come with great hope, wishing her mother could give her an answer.

Madam Fu was startled, then glared at her in displeasure. "Child, what nonsense are you talking? What others would pray for, you're turning your nose up at! Do you know who you take after? You take after your grandmother! She bore six sons and three daughters, and not one of them gave her trouble during pregnancy, and every child was healthy—all of them survived."

Fu Tingjun's eyes sparkled at this, her hidden worries swept away. Her face brightened like summer flowers blooming in the sun, radiant and lovely—she seemed even more spirited than usual, with none of the pallor of a pregnant woman.

Madam Fu looked at her and couldn't help but shake her head with a smile. "Back then, the reason the Yu family sought this marriage was entirely because your grandmother and I were both blessed with easy childbearing. They even had your birth chart examined by the Grand Master of the Way from Dragon Tiger Mountain, who said your fate was one that would bear sons..."

Fu Tingjun was stunned.

She had thought it was because the Fu family was of spotless reputation, and because she was lively and cheerful, endearing herself to the elders...

She'd never imagined that was the reason.

If her mother knew, then the elders of the family must have known as well.

Thank goodness she hadn't married into the Yu family—otherwise, what would she have been?

She felt somewhat displeased, but even more so, relieved.

Then her thoughts turned to the conversation she and Zhao Ling had had a couple of days ago, guessing whether the child would be a son or daughter.

Zhao Ling had joked that his family line had only him left as the sole descendant, and whether it was a daughter or son, he'd treasure them. He'd also said they should have many children... Then, as they talked, Zhao Ling had started getting fresh, saying things like "if there's no meat, at least let me have some soup" and other nonsense—but it was mostly in jest, with little true desire behind it. She could genuinely feel that he was trying to express through such playfulness the joy he couldn't put into words.

If she truly took after her grandmother, wouldn't they have many children?

If Zhao Ling knew that, he'd be so overjoyed he wouldn't know which way was up!

Fu Tingjun's mind conjured up an image of a tiny little person, with the same eyes and brows as Zhao Ling, who would also slant his gaze and look at people with that same cold, sharp stare... Just thinking about it made her half-delighted already.

But Madam Fu regretted her words the moment they left her mouth, and when she saw the strange expression flicker across Fu Tingjun's face, she silently scolded herself for being muddled.

Her daughter was living well now—how could she have been so possessed as to bring up matters of the past, needlessly souring her daughter's mood?

Madam Fu hastily tried to make amends: "Thank goodness you didn't marry into the Yu family! Even if you have the auspicious bearing to bear sons, that eldest young master of the Yu family carries the burden of three branches—I'm afraid unless you gave birth to five or six sons, the elders of the Yu family wouldn't be satisfied."

Meanwhile, Xiuzhu's Wife was sweating profusely.

What was wrong with the mistress today? Her words were all over the place, completely lacking her usual shrewdness and capability.

Why on earth was she bringing up the Yu family all of a sudden?

Could it be because Madam Yu had sent her personal attendant to inquire about her health a few days ago, stirring up these feelings?

But the young lady's marriage was already settled and done—bringing all this up now would only weigh on her heart.

Thinking this, she set aside concerns about her own station and hurriedly smiled: "Young Lady, what kind of pickled vegetables do you like to eat? I hear Baiwei Quan in the capital makes the best pickled vegetables. I'll send some over to you in a couple of days."

Madam Fu snapped back to her senses at the sound of this, and she quickly smiled: "Xiuzhu's Wife is so thoughtful. Look at me, just rambling on. Quanhui, what pickled vegetables do you like? I'll have Xiuzhu's Wife send some over to you."

Her mother had given her all her private savings, and with no uncle's subsidies to supplement her income, she certainly wasn't well-off. Fu Tingjun shared her mother's sentiment—she didn't want to accept any more gifts from the Fu family, and even less did she want her mother spending money on her.

"Please don't send me any pickled vegetables," Fu Tingjun said, putting on a troubled expression. "Ninth Master has such a big mouth—he tells everyone he meets that he's going to be a father, and says I've been craving pickled vegetables these days. His colleagues and superiors have all sent over their homemade pickles or bought ones from Baiwei Ren and sent them over. We must have at least fifty or sixty kinds of pickled vegetables at home now—we could open a pickle shop!" Her tone carried a hint of feigned complaint, but seven parts more of sweet contentment.

Madam Fu looked at her, tears nearly falling.

This child—even though she was married now, she was still so childlike.

She had already been powerless to help this child once in her time of need; she couldn't stand by and watch her daughter fall into difficulty again.

Madam Fu took a deep breath and asked with a smile: "Who's preparing the baby's little clothes and such?"

"Zhao Ling bought two more women in their thirties, saying they both have experience and will serve me through my confinement and help care for the child. These days Yuwei has been teaching them proper manners, and having them make the baby's little clothes on the side."

"Rather than buying two women at once, it might have been better to buy one first," Madam Fu said. She knew Zhao Ling had always been considerate toward her daughter, but hearing these things still made her heart glad, and she offered guidance: "Later there will be a wet nurse too. The wet nurse, along with two little maidservants, will be enough to help care for the child."

She couldn't very well tell her mother that she had said the same thing herself, and Zhao Ling had grinned and said something like "You think there are too many people now, but later you'll only think there are too few"...

A hint of embarrassment showed on Fu Tingjun's face.

Madam Fu thought she was just feeling awkward about the matter, so she smiled and changed the subject: "Have you started looking for a wet nurse?"

Fu Tingjun nodded eagerly: "Ninth Master asked around among his colleagues, and everyone says the wet nurses from Daxing Prefecture are the best—even the wet nurses in the palace mostly come from Daxing. As it happens, Ninth Master has a sworn brother serving in Daxing Prefecture, so he asked him for help. He's already looked at several candidates, and they'll settle on one after the new year."

Madam Fu nodded slightly.

This Zhao Ling—it was clear he cherished Quanhui deeply in his heart. Otherwise, how could a man bother himself with such minute details?

She couldn't help but take her daughter's hand and admonish her once more: "Ninth Master treats you so well—you must not let him down."

Why did her mother always admonish her like this every time they met, as if she were the fickle and flighty type?

Fu Tingjun was a little displeased and said with a coquettish pout: "I treat him very well too—I make all his clothes and shoes for all four seasons with my own hands. On his birthday, he had to go to the palace for duty, so I got up before him and made him a bowl of longevity noodles with my own hands..."

Madam Fu looked at her and laughed heartily, laughing until Fu Tingjun felt a bit uncomfortable: "What, what do you mean by that?"

"Isn't this what you should be doing?" Madam Fu said, gazing at her with a smile.

Fu Tingjun's face turned bright red.

...

After seeing her daughter off, Madam Fu leaned against the large bolster at the head of her bed and stared into space.

Xiuzhu's Wife didn't dare disturb her and quietly tidied up the teacups.

Madam Fu suddenly spoke: "What did the young mistress send to Quanhui?"

Just as if she had eyes in the back of her head!

Why had she spoken like that just now, as if possessed by a ghost?

Xiuzhu's Wife muttered to herself, when she heard Madam Fu speak, half in lament, half in explanation: "I know the young mistress's nature well. She is a true lady of a distinguished family—timid, yes, but incapable of anything base or despicable. Since she knows Quanhui is with child, she would surely offer her congratulations in some way."

"Madam is truly perceptive," Xiuzhu's Wife said with genuine admiration. "The young mistress picked out a few of the young master's old clothes and sent them to the young lady, wishing her an early son."

At these words, a flicker of pain crossed Madam Fu's face. "How I regret it! I should never have listened to his father and left him in the capital. Had he followed me to Huayin, how could he have become what he is now!"

It took Xiuzhu's Wife a moment to realize that the "he" Madam Fu referred to was none other than Fu Tingzheng.