Ah Da had just placed an ice bucket when he heard the shout. Turning around, he saw Xing Pingchun’s little face flushed with anger. He quickly stood up to explain, “Chou’er, don’t be upset.” (Madam didn’t let them call him ‘Young Master,’ saying it was bad luck to raise.) “We didn’t want to tie up the Commander. He had a severe attack earlier—if we hadn’t restrained him, he’d have hurt himself. Just look, there are injuries on his forehead and shoulder!”
Even tied up, Dingxi Marquis continued to struggle and squirm. The veins in his forehead and neck bulged. His clothes were soaked through, and the chair bound to the pillar creaked ominously.
Huge tears welled up in Xing Pingchun’s eyes. “Then why did you stuff his mouth too?!”
Xing Pingchun met his father’s eyes—and they were filled with pain. The boy stepped forward, but Wang Yong held him back with one hand. “Chou’er, no. You can’t go near him. We stuffed his mouth because he was biting his own tongue. We’re doing this for his good! And we didn’t tie him that tightly—if he breaks free, you could get hurt.”
“I’m not afraid!” Xing Pingchun looked at Wang Yong’s bandaged wrist, eyes red. His voice dropped, “Is your hand…?”
“I know you’re not afraid. How about this—you go see Madam first. Have you visited her yet today?”
Xing Pingchun suddenly remembered that his mother was also seriously injured and hadn’t recovered. With a hoarse voice, he asked, “Uncle Yong, do you know how my mother got hurt?”
Wang Yong gave an awkward smile and tried not to look behind him. “Well… I’m not sure either. You should go ask Madam yourself.”
Xing Pingchun wiped away the tear tracks on his face. He looked again at Xing Muzheng behind Wang Yong, who was writhing in pain. “You’re all avoiding the question. Then it must have been my father who hurt her.”
“This…” Wang Yong scratched his head, flustered. “The Commander didn’t mean to…”
“So it was my father?” Xing Pingchun raised his head and stared directly at Wang Yong.
Wang Yong was at a loss for words. He glanced at Ah Da, not expecting to be cornered by a child.
Xing Pingchun lowered his head and whispered, “My father is sick. I don’t blame him.”
Xing Muzheng, caught in the torment between life and death, heard his son’s gentle voice.
“I’m going to see Mother.” Xing Pingchun ran off.
Wang Yong turned to Ah Da with a sigh. “Chou’er is such a good kid.”
Ah Da said, “Of course. With a father like the Commander, how could he not be? Madam is great too.” Just a little fierce.
Xing Pingchun ran from the west wing to the east. He leapt into the inner room, where Qingya was helping Qian Jiaoniang sit up against the bedhead, stuffing several soft pillows behind her back. Qian Jiaoniang’s eyes were tightly shut, her breathing slightly rapid, lips pale as snow.
“Now are you convinced? You could barely stand for a minute and already nearly collapsed. Still thinking of walking anywhere?” Qingya said with exasperation, reaching to adjust the pillows.
“I just didn’t want to lie in bed all day,” Qian Jiaoniang said weakly, still with her eyes closed.
Xing Pingchun rushed forward to the bed. “Mother, the doctor said you must stay in bed and rest! No moving!”
Qian Jiaoniang opened her eyes and reached for her son. “Chou’er, you’re back.”
Xing Pingchun leaned over so she could touch the back of his head.
Seeing this, Qingya said, “Chou’er, stay here and watch over your mother. I’ll go brew the medicine.”
Xing Pingchun agreed crisply. Qingya picked up a fresh medicine packet and lifted the curtain to go out. Xing Pingchun carefully laid his head on Qian Jiaoniang’s lap, gazing up at her with wide, affectionate eyes. Qian Jiaoniang lowered her eyes to gently stroke his head, and for a time, the mother and son were quiet.
But soon the muffled shouting from afar shattered the peace. Xing Pingchun said, “Mother, Father is in a lot of pain. Uncle Ah Da and Uncle Yong tied him up!”
Qian Jiaoniang hadn’t heard that from Qingya earlier. Her hand froze. “He’s in that much pain?”
“His mouth was stuffed too. Uncle Yong said Father was biting his own tongue.” Xing Pingchun frowned, aggrieved on his father’s behalf. After a pause, he added, “But Uncle Yong’s arm looks like it got hurt by Father too.”
Qian Jiaoniang’s left hand, resting at her side, rubbed the sheet slightly. Her gaze drifted toward the door. “Is that so?”
“It’s true. I just saw Father. Uncle Yong wouldn’t let me go near him, said it was dangerous.” Xing Pingchun’s brows knit tightly together. “Mother, why did Father suddenly become like this? Was he the one who hurt you?”
Qian Jiaoniang smiled. “Yes. I wasn’t careful, and your father suddenly had an episode, so I got caught in it.”
“Do you blame him?” Xing Pingchun asked.
“How could I have the time to blame a sick man? It was my own carelessness… You said your father’s in a lot of pain?”
Xing Pingchun nodded.
Qian Jiaoniang said, “Then go spend more time with him. See if there’s anything you can do. Maybe tell him some funny stories from school, cheer him up a little.”
“Okay! I’ll go in a bit!”
“But stay back a little. Listen to the uncles. Don’t be careless like me.”
“I got it, Mother.”
“Then go ahead.”
Xing Pingchun hesitated. “But Sister Qingya told me to stay with you.”
“I’m going to sleep. Just help me lie down, and that’ll be enough.”
Xing Pingchun quickly took off his shoes and climbed onto the bed. He gently supported his mother’s head onto the pillow. But even in those brief movements, sweat had already started to bead on his forehead. Qian Jiaoniang said, “I’ll be fine by tomorrow. Go on now.”
“Then you must stay in bed and sleep well!” Xing Pingchun earnestly tucked the blanket over her.
Qian Jiaoniang said, “It’s warm—I don’t need it.”
“You have to! Covering your belly keeps you from catching cold,” Xing Pingchun said seriously.
Qian Jiaoniang couldn’t help but laugh—those were the exact words she used to scold him with before.
Xing Pingchun hopped down and put on his shoes, but still lingered at the bedside. Qian Jiaoniang asked, “Why aren’t you going yet?”
“I want to wait until you fall asleep.”
Qian Jiaoniang curled her lips into a smile and closed her eyes. “Alright, I’m asleep now.”
“If you’re asleep, you wouldn’t be talking. You think I’m three?” Xing Pingchun muttered.
Qian Jiaoniang chuckled softly with her eyes closed and didn’t speak again, even making a couple of fake snores.
Xing Pingchun called softly, “Mother.” She didn’t respond.
He called her again in a whisper. Still no reply.
“Mother, don’t be mad at Father right now. Once he’s better, we’ll both be mad at him together!” Xing Pingchun leaned close to whisper in her ear, then tiptoed out.
That little rascal. Once Xing Muzheng recovered, would the two of them really dare be mad at him? Qian Jiaoniang found it funny, but for her son’s sake, she decided to let it go this time.
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