Chapter 167

"...My mother-in-law originally thought that at worst, your engagement with the Yu family would be called off—she never imagined the Fu family would treat you this way. Ever since news of your 'death' spread, she has been consumed with guilt, worrying endlessly, and her health gradually declined." Zhao Ling held Fu Tingjun as they sat side by side on the kang, wiping away the tears of the sobbing woman leaning against his shoulder. "Coupled with the hardship of the journey to the capital, and the fact that your uncle's entire family..." He sighed softly. "And your mother insisted on living in that dark, damp side room facing south—her health completely collapsed. It was only the joy of seeing you return home safe, married and a mother, that gave her a brief rally before the end. Now that her heart's wish has been fulfilled, she passed with no lingering regrets!"

Fu Tingjun burst into louder sobs upon hearing this. "If I had known this would happen, I should have insisted that Father find Mother a better place to stay..."

"There you go talking like a child again!" Zhao Ling feigned displeasure. "If your mother truly wanted to move somewhere else, would she have needed you to intervene?"

This was simply Madam Fu's self-imposed punishment.

But such words dared not be spoken to Fu Tingjun, for fear she would feel even more guilt.

Fu Tingjun's sobs gradually subsided as she buried her face in Zhao Ling's shoulder.

"That's better!" Zhao Ling said gently, stroking her back as if comforting a small child. "Your mother knew how stubborn you are, so she specifically sent Xiuzhu's Wife here—she was afraid you would recklessly rush to the mourning hall despite still being in confinement. If you clashed with your father then, as a younger generation member, even if you were in the right, you would become the one in the wrong. Your mother was thinking of your reputation. You must understand her good intentions."

Fu Tingjun remained silent.

According to custom, a woman in postpartum confinement was considered unclean, and before completing the full month, she could not visit others' homes. As a married daughter, even though it was her mother who had passed, she still could not go to the Fu residence to pay her respects.

If she insisted on going, she would certainly come into conflict with the Fu family.

Zhao Ling knew she still couldn't get past this hurdle in her heart, so he continued: "The weather is too hot to transport the coffin south at this time. Most likely, after the seventh-day rites are completed, the coffin will be temporarily placed at some Buddhist temple. When that happens, we can set up an altar along the route where your mother's coffin will pass and pay our respects first. Then, once you've completed your confinement month, we'll bring Youyou to offer incense at your mother's grave..."

Fu Tingjun's spirits lifted at these words. She sat up and called loudly for Xiuzhu's Wife.

Xiuzhu's Wife lifted the curtain and entered upon hearing the call.

"Do you know which Buddhist temple my mother's coffin will be placed at?" Fu Tingjun asked urgently.

Xiuzhu's Wife wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes and said, "The mourning hall was just set up—these matters haven't even been discussed yet!"

"Then hurry back, and come tell me as soon as you have news."

Xiuzhu's Wife was taken aback and glanced at Zhao Ling.

Zhao Ling's expression remained unchanged, but he said to Fu Tingjun: "Xiuzhu's Wife rushed over in such a hurry—she probably hasn't even had breakfast. Even if you want her to do things for you, you should let her eat first!" Then he instructed Zhenzhu, "Accompany Xiuzhu's Wife down and let her rest for a while." And to Xiuzhu's Wife, he said, "Eat something first and restore your energy. There will be more instructions for you shortly."

Upon hearing this, the tension in Xiuzhu's Wife's expression visibly relaxed. She softly acknowledged with an "yes" and withdrew with Zhenzhu.

Fu Tingjun immediately asked: "What's going on?" Her face was full of confusion.

"Haven't you figured it out yet?" Zhao Ling said. "Your mother is entrusting Xiuzhu's Wife to your care!"

Fu Tingjun was stunned.

Then, in a flash, she understood.

Xiuzhu's Wife was her mother's dowry servant who had accompanied her from her natal family, and with years of devoted service, she was naturally loyal to Madam Fu. Because of her matter, her mother and father had developed a rift. If her elder brother had sided with their mother, it would have been fine—but unfortunately, her brother felt their father was in the right. Now that her mother had passed, if Xiuzhu's Wife remained in the Fu household, her days would likely be difficult.

She called for Kou'er: "Go, bring Xiuzhu's Wife here."

But Zhao Ling stopped Fu Tingjun: "I can see Xiuzhu's Wife's eyes are bloodshot—she probably hasn't rested properly since your mother passed. There's no rush on this matter. Let her rest for a while first. There's no harm in discussing things this afternoon."

Fu Tingjun nodded.

"Now, rest well at home. Be good, get proper rest, don't cry at the slightest thing, and keep your heart at ease—there's nothing that can't be resolved." Zhao Ling repeatedly urged her. "I'll go to Sixi Hutong first to offer some incense for your mother."

"Then go quickly!" Fu Tingjun urged Zhao Ling. After he left, she still couldn't help crying twice more. The people around her had to continually console her. Once, even Youyou was startled awake—perhaps the bond between mother and daughter—and Youyou cried inconsolably, which finally made Fu Tingjun begin to control her emotions.

In the afternoon, she called Xiuzhu's Wife in to ask about the details of her mother's final days. Learning that her mother had entrusted both Xiuzhu's Wife and her husband to her care, she couldn't help but show a look of shame: "It was all my foolishness!"

Xiuzhu's Wife's sorrowful face showed a hint of a smile: "The young mistress married well, and with everything taken care of by the young master, it's only natural that such small matters wouldn't catch her attention."

As if she were someone who paid no mind to anything at all.

Fu Tingjun muttered inwardly.

Seeing that she seemed rather unconvinced, Xiuzhu's Wife thought for a moment and then said, "You may not know this, but ever since you and the young master were married, he has visited Madam every month to speak of you." As she spoke, the corners of her eyes grew moist again. "At that time, Madam's health was already failing—even when the young master came to pay his respects, she paid him little heed. But whenever the young master came, Madam's spirits would lift, and in these last days she counted the days until his next visit..."

Fu Tingjun was taken aback.

...

Zhao Ling returned from Sixi Lane in the afternoon: "The master still has some colleagues and old friends in the capital, so the funeral was held with due ceremony. I've already spoken to the young mistress and arranged for Xiuzhu's Wife to stay with us for a while. Once the temple for the encoffined spirit is decided, she can send someone to let you know."

Had it been any other time, Fu Tingjun might have simply let it pass, but Xiuzhu's Wife's words had made her pay close attention to everything Zhao Ling said and did.

She called for Anxin to ask: "What did you all eat for lunch?"

"We bought two sesame cakes by Chunshu Lane..."

Fu Tingjun could barely hold back her tears again and said to Xiuzhu's Wife, "What exactly is the master trying to do? Didn't he say time and again that I have nothing to do with the Fu family anymore? Now that Zhao Ling has gone to pay respects to my mother, he can't even arrange a meal..."

"Please don't be upset, young mistress." Xiuzhu's Wife could only console her. "Madam never wanted you to be entangled in the affairs of Sixi Lane either. Isn't it better this way?"

Fu Tingjun let out a long sigh.

Xiuzhu's Wife seemed to hesitate, as if wanting to say something more.

"You were the one who served my mother," Fu Tingjun said. "You helped with the small rites when she passed, and you watched me grow up. Is there anything you cannot say to me?"

Even so, Xiuzhu's Wife spoke haltingly: "I was thinking... I was thinking of returning to the Fu household to keep vigil for Madam, and once her coffin is taken south, I'll come back..."

"That should be my duty." Fu Tingjun choked up. "For you to say such a thing shames me."

"Please don't say that, young mistress." Xiuzhu's Wife said. "What Madam never forgot was you. As long as you are well, she can rest in peace." She quickly took out a handkerchief to wipe Fu Tingjun's eyes, and the two of them chatted at length about the past and the future. Then Fu Tingjun sent Zheng San to escort Xiuzhu's Wife back to Sixi Lane.

That evening, Fu Tingjun discussed matters with Zhao Ling: "From what Xiuzhu's Wife said, Bi Bo's Wife passed away long ago, and Bi Bo has since remarried. Xiuzhu and his two children have remained in Huayin. I was thinking we might settle Xiuzhu's whole family of four on our estate in Chang'an County. If anything comes up, Master Lyu can look after them, and they won't have to leave their homeland..."

"That's a good idea." Zhao Ling nodded repeatedly. "Since she served your mother, it would be disrespectful for us to employ her further. And Chang'an County is still in Shaanxi, with similar customs and ways of life, so they'll feel more at home."

Just as they were speaking, Mo Yi arrived.

He stayed for nearly an hour before taking his leave.

Fu Tingjun asked Zhao Ling: "Is it still about the campaign in Guizhou?"

Zhao Ling nodded.

Before he could speak, Fu Tingjun continued: "Last time it was my pregnancy, this time it was my mother's passing—who knows what will happen next time... Are you prepared to stay home forever, Ninth Master?" As she spoke, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face tightly against his chest. "Ninth Master, I am not some fragile, delicate woman. Don't forget—I fled with you from Huayin all the way to Zhangye. Whatever you ought to do, go and do it! Didn't you say yourself that going to the office and coming home day after day is dreadfully dull." She murmured softly, "If two hearts are joined in lasting love, what need is there for morning and evening together? Ninth Master wishes for my happiness every day, and I wish for yours as well!"

Zhao Ling could not help but hold her tightly in his arms. "Ajun..." He lowered his head and kissed the crown of her hair. "Don't worry. There are only twenty or thirty thousand rebels in Guizhou, but the court has mobilized fifty thousand troops, and with Mo Yi as commander-in-chief, nothing will go wrong."

He knew the details so well.

Clearly, he too longed to go.

Fu Tingjun nodded: "At home there's Zheng San and Yuwei. Lady Chen Shi also comes to see me from time to time, and Madam Li is very kind. There's also Madam Mo—she's a mother of four children. If there's anything I don't understand, I'll go and ask them. You needn't worry about matters at home..."

The two talked for most of the night. Two days later, the campaign proclamation was issued: the Marquis of Longping would bear the seal of General for the Pacification of Barbarians, Mo Yi would serve as commander-in-chief, and Zhao Ling as vanguard officer, for the campaign in Guizhou.

From Sixi Lane, Xiuzhu's Wife also sent word that Madam Fu's coffin was to be placed at Cuifeng Nunnery near Xizhimen.

By the seventeenth, Fu Tingjun and Zhao Ling, dressed in mourning clothes befitting a daughter and son-in-law, had set up a sacrificial altar on Guangping Street, where Madam Fu's coffin was to pass.

According to custom, when the deceased is a relative, one sets up an altar to pay respects as the coffin passes by one's door. But they were neither residents of this neighborhood nor merchants here—complete strangers to everyone. Before long, a crowd of onlookers had gathered around.

"Strangers—newly moved here, are they?"

"Never seen them before."

"Look at this altar, all three sacrificial offerings laid out in full. I wonder what relation the deceased is to this young couple?"

Passersby also turned their heads for a glance.

Zhao Ling supported Fu Tingjun as she knelt on the bluestone slabs.

Amid the soft strains of funeral music, Madam Fu's hearse drew closer and closer.

Fu Tingjun began to weep.

Paper money fluttered down like snowflakes.

Fu Tingzheng, walking solemnly at the head of the procession, caught sight of Fu Tingjun at once.

His eyes instantly bulged wider than copper bells, and his face turned green with rage.

The two young nephews, still small, suddenly spotted a familiar face and called out "Auntie" in a daze, only to be hastily yanked back by panicked attendants...