The next day at noon, the Xinglong Inn in Yuzhou was packed with guests and lively with chatter. The waiter weaved through the crowd with a large teapot, loudly announcing dish after dish. A traveler who had arrived yesterday evening yawned as he came downstairs, surprised to find the tavern so full. He pulled the waiter aside and asked, “Hey, what’s the celebration today? Why are there so many people?”
The waiter replied, “Ah, sir, you don’t know. It’s not some celebration—yesterday, something big happened in town, and everyone’s here to hear the storyteller talk about it!”
It turned out that the storyteller at Xinglong Inn was the most well-informed man in all of Yuzhou. No matter how big or small the event, he was always the first to know. Folks had nicknamed him “All-Knows-Fast.” Before starting his storytelling sessions, he always liked to share the latest news, and so the common folk loved to listen to his tales. Since something big had happened yesterday, the tavern was packed with people eager to hear what he had to say.
The traveler, upon hearing this, found himself a spot at a corner table, joined others, ordered two taels worth of wine and a dish of peanuts, and looked up at the storyteller in blue robes preparing on the stage.
The storyteller took a sip of wine, shook his head and sighed dramatically, slowly picked up some appetizers to eat, poured himself another drink and downed it, then finally stood up. With a sharp smack of the wooden gavel, the rowdy tavern instantly fell silent.
“…Ladies and gentlemen, before I begin today’s story, allow me to first speak of a strange event that occurred yesterday in Yuzhou City.”
“Good!” the crowd responded with cheers, just as expected.
All-Knows-Fast cleared his throat and began loudly: “It is said that yesterday at the yamen gates, the grievance drum was struck. A woman was beating the drum to seek justice. But this woman was no stranger—she was none other than Dingxi Marquis’s original wife. This original wife had been chosen by the Marquis’s late mother, just a rustic peasant girl from the countryside, not even literate.”
The crowd erupted in whispers, talking amongst themselves in groups.
The storyteller smacked the gavel again and continued, “She went to strike the grievance drum not for anything else, but because the Marquis is planning to marry Miss Feng—one of the three great talented women of our time. So he gave the original wife five hundred silver taels and wanted her to agree to a divorce and remarry elsewhere. But the original wife, having endured all these years just to enjoy wealth and status, wasn’t willing to hand it over so easily. So she ran to the yamen to plead with the prefect for justice. Aiya, can a country girl really be a marquis’s wife? Isn’t that just a sparrow dreaming of becoming a phoenix? Such greed—trying to swallow an elephant whole!”
“Ha! Ha! Ha!” Three strange laughs echoed from below. Everyone turned to look—only to see the traveler scratching his head, excited beyond belief. Before anyone could stop him, he darted upstairs and disappeared down the corridor.
The people in the tavern stared at each other in confusion, wondering what madness had seized him.
Someone called out: “All-Knows-Fast! You said the Marquis’s wife was unwilling to accept divorce and went to beat the grievance drum. But afterward, when she came out of the yamen, the Marquis walked beside her the whole way. Many people saw them on the street! If the Marquis wanted to cast her off, why would he still accompany her?”
“Could it be that the Marquis changed his mind?”
“But I heard it was the original wife who was unfaithful!”
“Unfaithful? Heaven help us! A woman like that ought to be drowned in a pig cage!”
“But if the Marquis knew she was unfaithful, why hasn’t he executed her yet?”
“This…”
The crowd buzzed louder and louder, and in the end, all eyes turned toward the now-sweating storyteller on stage. “All-Knows-Fast, what’s really going on?!”
He only knew part of the story, not the full picture. Stammering, he said, “T-this matter, I’ll have to look into further. Let’s get back to the story, shall we?”
A wave of booing followed. Someone even tossed peanuts at him.
Meanwhile, the traveler who had dashed off had just burst into a guest room at the end of the corridor. Inside, his wife was helping their young daughter with her hair, and their not-yet-grown son lay on the bed with his rear in the air. The noise startled them.
His wife glared. “What are you rushing in like that for?!”
“Wife! It’s great news—tremendous news!” The traveler was so happy he was rubbing his hands together with glee.
His wife’s eyes lit up. “What news? Has my dear nephew heard we’ve arrived and come to greet us?”
“Ahem! We didn’t even notify him—how would he know?”
“Then what’s the good news?”
The traveler shut the door and said, “Your good nephew has dismissed his original wife!”
“Really?!” His wife and both children lit up with joy, excitement written all over their faces.
“It’s true as can be! All of Yuzhou knows! They say that Qian Jiaoniang got cast off, held a grudge, and even ran to the yamen to beat the grievance drum!”
The traveler’s wife said, “If a man wants to cast off his wife, that’s only proper! And Qian Jiaoniang dares to hold a grudge?!”
“She’s exactly that kind of person!” the daughter chimed in excitedly. “Papa, can we go visit cousin at the marquis’s residence now?”
“Of course! We’ve got nothing to worry about now!”
The traveler grinned widely. “Don’t rush. I’ll go out this afternoon and buy some gifts, make proper arrangements, and tomorrow morning we’ll go pay our respects!”
***
Qian Jiaoniang had returned from the yamen and quieted down like a wilted leaf. Luckily, Xing Muzheng had the sense not to linger in her presence and stayed in his own courtyard. That night, Xing Pingchun went to the main courtyard as usual to give his greetings. When he returned, he was so excited he was bouncing off the walls. Qian Jiaoniang asked what was wrong, but he just grinned foolishly and didn’t answer.
The next morning, Qian Jiaoniang woke up and decided to go check on her son, who had still refused to sleep even at the second night-watch. Lifting the curtain, she peeked in and saw her silly son lying there with his belly exposed, one leg hanging off the bed, snoring away. He even smacked his lips twice in his sleep, as if dreaming something sweet.
Since he’d stayed up all night, he likely wouldn’t wake until the sun was high in the sky. Qian Jiaoniang shook her head with a smile, deciding to call him later. She tucked the blanket over his stomach and quietly left.
She went outside to draw water to tend the vegetable garden. Though she’d been away for a while, it seemed someone had helped water it in the meantime. The grapevine had even borne fruit. She picked a cluster, washed it with clean water, and plucked one to taste—it was sweet and tangy, surprisingly pleasant.
Just then, the courtyard gate creaked open. Xing Muzheng strode in quickly. Qian Jiaoniang frowned subtly.
When Xing Muzheng saw her, he paused, slightly surprised. He walked up and stopped beside her, hesitated, then folded his hands behind his back and said stiffly, “You… are up early.”
Qian Jiaoniang acted as if only just seeing him. She smiled and said, “The Marquis is here—please forgive me for not welcoming you from afar.”
Xing Muzheng found that fake smile an eyesore. He turned his gaze away but didn’t move. Qian Jiaoniang didn’t bother guessing what he was up to. She simply went on eating grapes and watering the vegetables, ignoring his presence.
Xing Muzheng looked at her eating, then turned to glance at the grapevine—only one lonely bunch of half-green grapes remained. He remembered how she used to be heartbroken whenever he knocked over the grape trellis, though thankfully the vines were tough enough to bear fruit again.
Seeing that the trellis was leaning, he walked over and pushed it in firmly, then broke off a piece of dead vine and tied it securely. Afterward, he gave it a shake—much steadier now. Women’s hands simply didn’t have the strength to brace things properly. He turned his head to glance at Qian Jiaoniang again, but she was focused on watering, not even lifting her brows.
Xing Muzheng went to fix the frame on the other side. When he came back, he saw Jiaoniang had finished pouring a bucket of water. He lifted it again and went into the back courtyard, soon returning with a freshly drawn full bucket. He placed it beside her. Jiaoniang watched with cold eyes, then slowly picked up the dipper to ladle the water.
Suddenly—splash!—the bucket was knocked over, spilling water all across the stone slabs, raising a light spray of dust with a damp, earthy scent.
“Oh no, how clumsy of me! I’ve gone and spilled the water the Marquis personally fetched!” Jiaoniang exclaimed with exaggerated regret. “Please wait—I’ll just clean it up.”
Xing Muzheng said nothing, his hand behind his back tightening into a fist. He had clearly seen her knock over the bucket on purpose.
Jiaoniang fetched a broom and dustpan and began to sweep the water with swishing motions. But how could water possibly be swept up? After a long while of pointless effort, she looked up with difficulty and said, “Marquis, look at this. No matter how I sweep, I can’t get the water back.”
There was meaning in her words. Xing Muzheng ignored it. “If you can’t sweep it back, then draw a new bucket.”
Jiaoniang clapped her hands. “Yes, yes, draw a new one. After all, what’s spilled can’t be recovered. New is better.”
A sharp sting shot through Xing Muzheng’s ears. He acted like he hadn’t heard her and instead asked, “Where’s Chou’er?”
The mighty general, and still playing dumb? Qian Jiaoniang cursed him inwardly. “Still sleeping.”
At that, Xing Muzheng said no more and turned to leave.
Qian Jiaoniang, baffled, gave a cold snort and picked up the bucket to fetch water again. When she passed the side room, she paused. Just now Xing Muzheng had asked about Chou’er, and the boy had been so happy last night—could it be he had something going on this morning? She thought for a moment, put down the bucket, and went to Xing Pingchun’s room to push him awake.
Pingchun was sound asleep, mumbling and rolling over.
“Chou’er, are you getting up?”
“Mmm… Mama, just a little more…” he mumbled, eyes shut. Suddenly he jerked upright like a fish flipping out of water. “Mama! What time is it?”
“Not yet past the hour of Chen.”
“It is the hour of Chen!” Pingchun cried in alarm, and immediately began dressing in a panic. The more he dressed, the more tangled his clothes got, even buttoning all the wrong holes. Jiaoniang tossed him his pants and told him to fix his buttons. He looked down, then fumbled frantically to undo them, almost spinning in place with anxiety.
“Where are you off to this early?”
Pingchun muttered something unclear. Jiaoniang didn’t catch it. He pulled on his pants, stuffed his feet into his socks, slipped into his shoes, and dashed off. “Mama, I’m going!”
Jiaoniang shook her head and picked up the clothes he had tossed all over the floor. Qingya entered. “Chou’er rushed off like lightning. Where’s he going?”
“No idea.”
Pingchun didn’t return even by noon. And as luck would have it, not long after the hour of Chen, it started to rain—a downpour at first, then steady drizzle that fell without end. Qingya stood under the eaves watching the gate. “That boy Chou’er… Is he coming back for lunch or not? He could at least send word.”
Just as she said that, someone came. An older maid rushed in holding an umbrella. Seeing Jiaoniang, she gave a respectful bow. “Madam, Master says the young master is studying in his courtyard, and he’ll have lunch there.”
“Don’t call me Madam. What’s he studying?”
The maid kept her head down and answered quickly, “This servant doesn’t know. Master just told me to come deliver the message.”
Jiaoniang exchanged glances with Qingya and sent the maid off. She went into the room to fetch an oil-paper umbrella. “I’m going to the front to check. You go ahead and eat first.”
“I’ll come with you,” Qingya said.
“The road’s wet, and if you get soaked, you’ll just complain. I’ll be quick.”
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