The marriage between Chen Rou-niang and Lu Zijie was a result that satisfied multiple parties.
Cheng Danruo was satisfied, Chen Rou-niang was satisfied, Lu Zijie was satisfied, and Lady Huang, Master Chen, and Lady Li were all satisfied as well.
So, was there anyone who was not satisfied? Yes.
Old Madam Chen was not satisfied.
During one of her morning calls, she questioned Lady Huang. “I remember Li’er told me that this young man was being considered for Danruo. How did he end up with Rou-niang instead?”
Lady Huang had not expected Master Chen to have mentioned it to the Old Madam and had no choice but to explain. “Master holds great hopes for Zijie. Betrothing Rou-niang to him better demonstrates our family’s sincerity. Moreover, the Lu family has few heirs, and Danruo falls somewhat short in that regard.”
Old Madam Chen was not an unreasonable person. Her dissatisfaction was not really with the marriage itself, but rather with the fact that her son and daughter-in-law had disregarded her instructions – she had previously urged them repeatedly to arrange a match for Cheng Danruo.
Indeed, after all these years of illness, this daughter-in-law was gradually ceasing to take her seriously.
Old Madam Chen stiffly fingered her Buddhist prayer beads, but her tone softened. “Since that is the case, I will take charge of Danruo’s marriage. What do you think?”
Lady Huang had no objection – if a match turned out well, it was a stroke of luck; if poorly, she would be the one blamed. “Mother’s judgment is naturally better than ours,” she said with a flattering smile.
Old Madam Chen said meaningfully, “That’s good, then.”
With that, the topic came to an end. Both Lady Huang and Cheng Danruo assumed the matter was settled.
Cheng Danruo believed the marriage question had been temporarily resolved and continued to serve Old Madam Chen with single-minded devotion, only occasionally noticing that the old lady seemed increasingly unable to do without her, often asking out of the blue, “Danruo, you’re grown up now. What are your plans for the future?”
“If you don’t find me troublesome, Old Madam, I would be happy to serve you forever,” Cheng Danruo would reply, half in jest and half in flattery.
At such times, Old Madam Chen would always smile and say, “Silly child, surely I can’t keep you with me for the rest of your life?”
“That would be my good fortune,” Cheng Danruo would answer.
“You child,” Old Madam Chen would say, her eyes glinting and affection spilling from the corners of her mouth, “don’t worry. As long as this old woman is still alive, I will never let you be left without support.”
“Then I shall rely on you,” Cheng Danruo would joke, as she brought over the medicine. “You must live to at least eighty, staying with us for a long, long time to back me up.”
Old Madam Chen was delighted by her coaxing and became all the more resolute in her convictions.
She said nothing of it, merely remarking casually, “The Dragon Boat Festival is almost here, isn’t it? The days are getting hotter by the day.”
“Yes, indeed. When the festival comes, we should fumigate the rooms with mugwort,” said Cheng Danruo. “If you have trouble sleeping, Old Madam, I could make a sachet to hang by your bed curtains – perhaps that would make you more comfortable.”
Old Madam Chen said, “What I was thinking is that Er-lang should be coming back soon.”
Chen Zhixiao, the second young master of the Chen family, was sixteen and studying at the Spring Breeze Academy in Suzhou. This was a renowned academy in the Jiangnan region. Its headmaster had formerly been a Hanlin Academy reader – not a high-ranking official, but one of scholarly prestige. After retiring and returning to his hometown, he had established this academy, attracting countless students who came seeking fame through his name.
Master Chen had only this one grown son, Chen Zhixiao, and naturally had great plans for him. He had pulled strings early on to get him admitted to the academy.
The Spring Breeze Academy enforced strict discipline, granting students only one day off every ten days, allowing them only to take some air within the city walls. Only during festivals would they be given three to five days of leave to return home and reunite with their families.
The Dragon Boat Festival was a major holiday, and Chen Zhixiao, who had returned to the academy after the New Year, would finally be able to come home.
For the Chen family, this was undoubtedly a major event as well.
The letter had only arrived the day before, saying he would return for the festival, and Lady Huang had already eagerly ordered the courtyards swept, the bedding aired, and the rooms fumigated – every preparation made in full.
Two days before the Dragon Boat Festival, calamus and mugwort basins began to be placed at the gate one after another. Above them hung clay figurines of Zhang Tianshi, with all manner of venomous creatures carved in various shapes arranged at the sides, creating a vivid scene of dispelling pests.
On the fifth day of May, the day of the Dragon Boat Festival, the entire household bustled with activity.
The youngest, Chen Wu-lang, had the character “King” written on his forehead and was adorned with a five-colored longevity cord.
The rest of the family changed into clothes made of Aihu gauze – light, thin, and airy. The deft-fingered ones, like Chen Wan-niang, had long ago cut out paper shapes of mugwort leaves, Celestial Masters, and venomous creatures to wear on their heads – so lifelike that they nearly frightened a young maid into tears.
Cheng Danruo was not as particular as the ancients; she simply wove mugwort into bracelets to wear on her wrists and prepared for everyone a sachet of mugwort and mint, filled with common herbs – angelica, ligusticum, skullcap, spikenard, mint, and mugwort leaves. They gave off a fragrant scent and were effective at repelling mosquitoes.
At midday, Chen Zhixiao arrived home, dusty and travel-worn.
Without even changing his clothes, he went straight to Xuancao Hall to pay his respects to Old Madam Chen.
“Greetings to you, Old Madam,” Chen Zhi-xiao said, having paid his respects to his grandmother. He then performed a courtesy of equal standing toward Cheng Danruo, who was attending at the side. “Cousin, I trust you are well?”
Cheng Danruo returned the gesture. “Thank you for your concern. The Old Madam and I are both well.”
“Come here.” How could Old Madam Chen not dote on her grandson? She pulled him over to sit beside her. “Thinner. Darker.”
Chen Zhixiao greatly resembled his father, Master Chen – neither plump nor gaunt, of medium build, neither handsome nor plain, of ordinary appearance. But coming from a wealthy and official family, his bearing carried a composure that set him apart from ordinary students.
He smiled and said, “I only look thinner because I’ve grown taller. The academy serves three meals a day, with snacks in between if one gets hungry. Rest assured, Old Madam – I have not endured any hardship.”
The food at the academy was ordinary fare, plentiful but simple. However, Lady Huang had long made sure he carried enough money, so he could buy sesame cakes, wontons, and steamed buns at the academy gate each day – he would never go hungry.
Old Madam Chen murmured something indistinct, and Chen Zhixiao did not catch it.
Cheng Danruo translated. “The Old Madam says that you must know your limits and must never harm your health for the sake of your studies.”
Chen Zhixiao immediately rose and bowed. “Rest assured, Old Madam. I understand.”
Old Madam Chen spoke a good deal more before finally letting her grandson go to see his mother.
Lady Huang had been waiting for some time and quickly urged her son to wash up. “The noon water has been prepared – go bathe quickly to dispel illness and ward off misfortune.”
Chen Zhixiao found it both amusing and exasperating. It was said that the water drawn at noon on the Dragon Boat Festival was the best, capable of strengthening the body, but it was something only young children did.
Yet, unable to bear going against his mother’s loving intentions, he dutifully agreed.
After bathing in the fragrant herbal water infused with pomelo leaves and white orchid flowers, Chen Zhixiao joined his parents and went to Xuancao Hall for the midday meal.
The Dragon Boat Festival noon meal had to be entirely red in color.
Braised eel in soy sauce, braised pork slices with carrots, duck blood soup, red amaranth, cherry-glazed pork, poached shrimp, and an assortment of zongzi.
However, Cheng Danruo did not join them. This was a family gathering for the Chen household, and she had no part in it – not even the concubines were entitled to attend.
Waiting upon the mother-in-law was a privilege reserved for the principal wife alone.
As an outsider, Cheng Danruo ate her meal alone in her own room.
Her lunch was somewhat simpler – poached shrimp, radish and pork meatball soup, red amaranth, and salted duck eggs.
The zongzi were likely made in too much haste by the kitchen to prepare any especially for her, so they simply steamed the festival gifts sent by Master Chen’s subordinates and colleagues – more than enough to go around, with both sweet and savory varieties.
Cheng Danruo peeled a small white glutinous rice zongzi and dipped it in white sugar.
In her previous life, who would have bothered with such zongzi? She would have been too worried about gaining weight. Now, however, though this body could eat its fill, she still craved sweets terribly.
Stuffing the sticky rice dipped in sugar into her mouth, it was fragrant and delightfully sweet.
Cheng Danruo ate with great care, chewing each mouthful slowly before swallowing. When dining with Old Madam Chen, the food was always overcooked, bland, and low in salt – and the old lady would often cough or retch. Whenever that happened, Danruo had to stop and attend to her before she could continue eating.
If the Old Madam was feeling particularly unwell and set down her chopsticks altogether, then even if Danruo had only taken one bite, the meal would be over.
Eating a proper meal to fullness had somehow become a luxury in itself.
Cheng Danruo swallowed the sticky rice and held back all her resentment.
Life had to go on, didn’t it?
Being able to eat white rice in ancient times, and enjoy a sugar-dipped zongzi on a festival day – that already put her ahead of more than half the population.
“Bai Zhi,” she called out to the maidservant who was outside sewing shoe soles. “You may take the rest of the dishes.”
She did not have a large appetite, and there was still plenty of meat left on the plates. The maids rarely got meat in their own meals, and though these were leftovers, they did not mind at all.
“Thank you, Miss.” Bai Zhi cleared the table and carried the leftover dishes away.
Cheng Danruo first rinsed her mouth, then used cotton thread as floss to clean between her teeth, and finally chewed a small piece of fragrant tea cake – an ancient version of chewing gum made from spices, mint, tea, licorice, and other medicinal herbs, meant to freshen the breath.
There were no dentists in ancient times, so she was extremely careful with her dental hygiene, terrified of getting cavities.
After that, she went immediately to the side chamber to take over the task of decocting the medicine, sending the maid off to eat.
The maid was happy to have her meal earlier and left cheerfully.
Within less than the time it takes to burn an incense stick, the medicine was nearly done.
Cheng Danruo wrapped a cloth around the earthenware pot and carefully poured out the decoction. A strong, pungent wave of herbal smell hit her face – so bitter it could bring tears to one’s eyes.
She strained the liquid and poured it into a medicine bowl.
In truth, though she said she personally prepared the medicine every day, this was about the extent of her work – most of the labor was done by the maids.
To put it nicely, this was called reasonable delegation of work; one could not exhaust oneself just for the sake of a good reputation. To put it bluntly, it was layer upon layer of oppression.
But in daily life, it was best to forget that – otherwise, one could not last a single second.
Cheng Danruo picked up the tray and walked steadily into the main hall.
The Chen family’s banquet had already ended. The dishes had been cleared away, and everyone was gathered around Old Madam Chen, listening to Chen Zhixiao recount amusing stories from the academy.
“Old Madam.” She bent down and said softly, “It’s time to take your medicine.”
Normally, Old Madam Chen was most resistant to the bitter medicinal brew and needed much coaxing before she would drink it. But today, perhaps because her eldest grandson had returned and she was in good spirits, she downed it in one go without needing any persuasion.
Cheng Danruo signaled to the maid Duo Xi with a glance. The maid quickly brought over freshly cut peaches and fed a piece to Old Madam Chen to take away the bitter taste in her mouth.
“I don’t need you today,” Old Madam Chen said after finishing the peach and rinsing her mouth. Then she addressed the others, “Xiao Ge’er, Rou-niang, and Wan-niang – all of you may go back now.”
Once the younger ones had been dismissed, Lady Huang and Master Chen knew she had something to say. They exchanged a glance and saw bewilderment in each other’s eyes.
Hadn’t the matter of the previous marriage already passed? What else could the Old Madam have in mind?
Of course, it was still about marriage.
As soon as Cheng Danruo and the others had withdrawn, Old Madam Chen got straight to the point. “Xiao Ge’er is already sixteen. What plans have the two of you made regarding his marriage?”
Lady Huang immediately replied, “I was thinking that since Master will soon be going to the capital, we might take that opportunity to ask my family to make inquiries about suitable young ladies in the capital and find a good match for Xiao Ge’er.”
Her son was the very apple of her eye, and the legitimate eldest son of the family. The couple had discussed it and were in no hurry to betroth him in Songjiang. After all, he was a man – marrying before twenty was not too late at all.
The corner of Old Madam Chen’s mouth twitched, as if a facial nerve had spasmed – it looked rather strange.
A sense of foreboding arose in Lady Huang’s heart, but she held her tongue and said nothing.
Old Madam Chen did not look at her, but addressed her son directly. “Is that what you think as well?”
“Xiao Ge’er’s wife must be chosen with great care,” Master Chen nodded, then asked, “Does Mother have someone in mind?”
Old Madam Chen said slowly, “Some time ago, your wife told me that Danruo has no one to rely on, and that if she were married out, people might look down on her for the Chen family’s thin connections. That set me thinking – I wanted to keep her by my side.”
Lady Huang’s heart gave a lurch, and she opened her mouth to refute this.
But Master Chen was even more direct. He said flatly, “She is, after all, a relative of the family. It would not sound good to have her as a concubine.”
“Exactly. I regard Danruo as my own daughter,” Master Chen said, using the word “concubine” to cut off his mother’s train of thought. Naturally, Lady Huang could not undermine him and echoed. “She is, after all, a daughter of a respectable family.”
Old Madam Chen did not change her expression and made no mention of wife or concubine. Instead, she brought up an old matter.
“I am not favoring Danruo out of partiality, but in the early years, during the Huai River flood, if it had not been for Danruo, I would have long since gone to keep your father company.”
