“That long?” Qian Jiaoniang was a little surprised. It was the first time she had heard of such a thing.
“Isn’t it just so? Madam, your body took a heavy toll in childbirth this time. If you don’t nurse it well, in later years it’ll be hard to bear.”
Qian Jiaoniang shook her head with a soft sigh. She took the little one from Qin Momo’s arms, tapped his tiny nose, and said, “Truly a little star of calamity—you must be filial to your mother in the future, do you hear?” Though she spoke thus, there wasn’t the slightest trace of regret or reluctance on her face.
Xing Pingrui seemed to understand their words, slowly spreading into a grin, almost as if to please her. Qian Jiaoniang was amused, and as she looked into his bright eyes, she couldn’t help but press a kiss to his forehead. What a little imp!
Qin Momo said, “The young master is clearly a good and obedient one. In future he’ll surely be as filial to madam as his elder brother.”
Qian Jiaoniang smiled, rocking the rattle-drum lightly to amuse the child.
Qin Momo glanced at her and added, “The young master is of no concern. It’s just the Marquis…”
Qian Jiaoniang lifted her head as she played with the baby. “What about the Marquis?”
Qin Momo leaned closer, lowering her voice: “Madam, the Marquis and you were deeply affectionate before, and he would share the conjugal bed with you almost every night. Now, because of your pregnancy and childbirth, it’s been nearly a year since he has lain with you. The Marquis is in the prime of his years—if he must go another year or two without… I fear he cannot endure it. This old servant thinks, rather than letting him lose patience and take pleasure with other women, it would be better if madam personally chose one or two obedient ones to give to him. That way, neither your bond as husband and wife would be harmed, nor would the inner court fall into disorder. The Marquis treasures madam so much—if you don’t wish for concubines to bear children, the Marquis would likely agree.”
The hand Qian Jiaoniang used to shake the rattle-drum slowly stilled. She lowered her head and said nothing for a long time.
The room was silent for a while. Little Ni Xue fell asleep in his mother’s arms. Qian Jiaoniang gently tucked his swaddling cloth. Qin Momo couldn’t help but speak: “Madam?”
Qian Jiaoniang raised her head, let out a long sigh, and smiled helplessly. “Qin Momo, being a woman is truly difficult, isn’t it?”
“Madam…”
“I know that in many great households, once the wife is with child she will choose concubines for her husband, to show herself virtuous and considerate. Someone like me, who cannot let her husband near for years, should all the more find someone else to serve him—otherwise I am not a worthy wife… But when a wife is pregnant, whose child does she carry? The husband’s. If a husband cannot relieve himself, it is said to be hard for him—but is it easy for the wife, carrying a swollen belly, suffering morning sickness and cramps, enduring ten months, then facing life and death in childbirth? Who spares a thought for her? Why is it taken as heaven’s law that the wife should suffer? That when she safely bears a child it is only right, but if she dies of difficult labor, it was simply her bad fate? Now, after damaging her body giving birth, the wife must still send other women to warm her husband’s bed. The husband may be satisfied—but what of the wife? Her body is hurt, and her heart must be hurt again on top of it?”
“Madam, that is simply a woman’s lot… even in the palace, the Empress herself, the favored concubines, all endure the same.”
Qian Jiaoniang shook her head. “They all say it is a woman’s fate—but it is not right. A wife is not a man’s plaything. A wife is a person. A wife loves her husband, is willing to suffer and labor and give everything for him. If a husband truly loves his wife, he too should give for her. If only for that matter of desire he cannot restrain himself, then he is unworthy of his wife’s respect and love.”
Qin Momo was struck speechless with shock. In all her long life, this was the first time she had heard such words. A husband was a wife’s heaven—wives should only think of their husbands. Could a husband truly be expected to endure for his wife’s sake? And besides, wasn’t it a matter of course for men of great houses to have three wives and four concubines?
Seeing Qin Momo’s look of astonishment, Qian Jiaoniang knew her words were too rebellious to her ears. But this truly was what she thought. If Xing Muzheng knew she suffered yet still claimed his own suffering as excuse to go take pleasure with other women, she would never forgive him! Sharing joy but not sharing hardship—how could that be called being husband and wife?
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