Jiaoniang had not summoned Xing Muzheng, only letting Xing Pingchun come by once. Xing Muzheng, too, never mentioned the matter. It was as if nothing had ever happened between them.
Qian Baogui tried to “accidentally” run into him, but without success, and his impatience grew. He ran about outside every day. Qian Meinian, however, felt uneasy doing nothing while staying there. She always rushed to wash Mother Qian’s soiled clothes herself and kept the courtyard clean and tidy. Carpenter Zheng also could not sit idle; he asked Steward Ding for work. How could Steward Ding dare let the Madam’s brother-in-law labor? But learning he was a carpenter, he arranged for him to visit the finest workshop in Yuzhou, saying only that the Marquis had commissioned a bed and they were making it, and Carpenter Zheng could oversee the work. Carpenter Zheng, taking the task seriously, went.
That night, lying in bed, he said to his wife: “I saw those timbers—they were golden-thread nanmu, extremely precious. The design was mandarin ducks playing in water, so it must be meant for Third Sister and her husband. We’re staying here eating and using their things, but we didn’t even bring a proper gift when we came. Won’t that shame Third Sister? Why don’t you ask her if I can make this bed for them myself?”
The couple thought alike. Qian Meinian, too, had felt uneasy about shaming Jiaoniang while living in the Marquis’s residence. She trusted her husband’s skill—he had trained seven years to mastery—yet still hesitated a little.
“Are you really confident? You said yourself that golden-thread nanmu is precious. If you spoil it, it will be a disaster.”
Carpenter Zheng patted his chest. “I saw the blueprints. No problem—I guarantee I’ll do it well.”
So the next day, Qian Meinian spoke to Jiaoniang. But Jiaoniang was bewildered—she hadn’t known Xing Muzheng had ordered a new bed. Wasn’t their current one perfectly fine? Yet she also knew that ordinary people could not touch golden-thread nanmu; likely only the Marquis’s residence in all Yuzhou had the right to use it. Surely he wasn’t having it made as a gift for someone else?
When she turned and asked Xing Muzheng, he was silent for a moment before admitting, “That bed—I had it made to replace this one.”
“This bed is perfectly fine—not broken, not old. Why replace it?”
Xing Muzheng met her eyes. “Don’t you always complain it creaks?”
Qian Jiaoniang froze on the spot. Her face flushed scarlet. “That—that was because you… misbehaved!” The bed was sturdy enough, but when Xing Muzheng became as rough as a beast, even this solid bed would squeak under him. Jiaoniang was thin-skinned, afraid others outside might hear.
Seeing her shy and flustered, Xing Muzheng’s lips curved in a smile. “So it’s the bed’s fault.”
“It’s your fault!”
He asked in all seriousness, “What exactly is my fault?”
Qian Jiaoniang was speechless.
“One word at a time—tell me, and I’ll change,” he said.
Her rosy face turned crimson, her skin not nearly thick enough to withstand this. Scooping up Big Sis, she snapped, “Enough of you—go tell Brother-in-law yourself!” With that, she fled as if on wings.
The next day, Xing Muzheng truly did meet Carpenter Zheng—at the workshop. Carpenter Zheng was helping saw wood when Xing Muzheng, surrounded by attendants, entered. But Carpenter Zheng was so focused that once immersed in a task, nothing around could draw his attention. The noise of many footsteps did not make him look up. Li Qingquan was about to call to him, but Xing Muzheng stopped him. He dismissed the others and stood watching in front of Carpenter Zheng.
Only when a section of wood was sawed through did Carpenter Zheng wipe his sweat and look around for a square. Who would have thought to see a tall, martial man standing there? At a glance at the fine clothes, he knew he was someone of rank. Carpenter Zheng, who all his life had loved working with wood and seen few people, let alone nobles, stood there uncertain whether to offer a greeting—when the other man called out: “Eldest Brother-in-law.”
That one address left Carpenter Zheng completely muddled. Though he had married someone else’s eldest daughter, never had he heard an outsider call him “Eldest Brother-in-law.” He had seen Sun Bai before, whose eyes were always perched on the top of his head, looking down on him. Zheng Mujiang quickly gathered his wits—being addressed as “Eldest Brother-in-law” here in Yuzhou, and from someone with such extraordinary bearing, it could only be his third sister’s husband, Dingxi Marquis, Xing Muzheng.
“I am Xing Muzheng, Jiaoniang’s husband.”
Sure enough. Carpenter Zheng hurried to offer a bow, but not knowing which etiquette was proper, he could only clasp his fists together, speaking somewhat awkwardly: “Greetings, Marquis!”
Xing Muzheng, seeing this carpenter was simple and honest, also knew that among the Qian family, theirs was the most grounded household. So although he was not overly warm, neither was he cold. After a few words of courtesy, he said: “I heard Eldest Brother-in-law wishes to make this bed for me.”
Zheng Mujiang scratched his head sheepishly. “I, this so-called brother-in-law, have no other ability, I can only do such work. Think of it as a meeting gift for my third sister and the Marquis, would that be alright?”
“Eldest Brother-in-law, there’s no need for such formality. Guests are guests—how could I, Xing, have Eldest Brother-in-law laboring?”
“Eh, no matter, no matter. The Marquis and Third Sister have received our family with such kindness, Meiniang and I feel uneasy in our hearts. Besides, I’m just a man born for toil—if you let me work, I’ll actually feel more at ease.” Carpenter Zheng paused, then added: “I apprenticed for seven years, now I’ve finished my training and opened my own workshop in the town. I dare not boast about other things, but making a bed—I am very capable.”
Xing Muzheng said nothing. Carpenter Zheng continued: “The bed in my home, I made it myself.”
Xing Muzheng still said nothing.
“Solid as can be, not a single creak.”
“…Oh?”
Hearing that “oh,” the two exchanged a knowing look. Indeed, just as he thought. Back then it was because Meiniang feared the bed creaking and being overheard by her parents, that she wouldn’t even let him touch her—so he had poured all his effort into making an unshakably sturdy bed. So it seemed that even a noble son-in-law of a marquis household had the same kind of trouble.
All at once Carpenter Zheng felt closer to this illustrious third brother-in-law.
Xing Muzheng, seeing Carpenter Zheng so tactful, did not say more. “Then let me thank Eldest Brother-in-law in advance.”
Carpenter Zheng quickly replied: “It’s only right, only right.”
Xing Muzheng summoned the workshop master, spoke a few words of instruction, and told him to assist Carpenter Zheng in the work. The workshop master readily agreed—he had been afraid the finished bed might not meet the Dingxi Marquis’s approval, but now with someone in charge, he was even willing to accept less payment.
After finishing his instructions, Xing Muzheng was about to leave, when suddenly he thought of something, and called Carpenter Zheng over to whisper a few words in his ear.
Finding himself with proper work, Carpenter Zheng left early and returned late, just as he did back in town. Qian Meiniang was glad to see it—after all, he was making the bed for their own people, and once it was finished it would also bring face to Jiaoniang.
Ten days later, Mother Qian’s health was clearly much improved. She was awake for longer stretches and could even sit up. Qian Jiaoniang also tried her best to make time to visit, so the mother and two daughters sat by the bed chatting idly about this and that, almost like an ordinary family.
