Chapter 6

Chapter 6

In the twenty-first year of Chengqing, it finally rained.

The years of disaster came to an end. Green grass sprouted in the fields, covering the earth in a lush, vibrant carpet.

Many people had died that year.

I had set a fire and burned the couple who managed the Mei County manor to death.

No one cared how they died. In a year of famine, survival was a matter of luck.

By the time the grass grew over my mother’s grave, my Eldest Maternal Uncle and Second Maternal Uncle finally arrived.

Second Maternal Uncle’s face was ashen as he knelt before the grave.

He seemed unable to accept my mother’s death.

It was hardly surprising; since my mother and I moved to the manor, he rarely saw her.

For one, after the scandal broke years ago, Eldest Maternal Uncle and the others kept a strict watch over him, essentially forbidding him from staying in Yongzhou.

Secondly, my mother refused to see him.

Once, when he was right at her doorstep, my mother shut him out and never opened the door. Everything he brought was thrown into the ditch by her own hand.

When I was young, I remember this handsome Second Maternal Uncle being very kind to me. Whenever he overheard my two aunts or my cousins insulting us, he would always start an argument with them.

He used to take me to the streets to buy candied haws and pastries. If he saw a beautiful hairpin, he would buy it and tell me to give it to my mother when I returned.

But what was the use? He was often away from home on business.

Forget it. I don’t want to mention that mess for now.

I made only one demand of them: from now on, this manor in Mei County belonged to me.

After the drought, all things began to recover.

I did not hire another manager for the manor. I personally handled the ledgers for all the tenant farmers’ harvests.

Just as the famine ended, I picked up a girl on the street who was on the verge of starving to death.

Her name was Huaihua, and she had escaped from that man-eating place called Qianyin County.

She said her family had run an acrobatics troupe in the county seat. Although they had some savings, when the drought hit, a single picul of grain cost ten thousand silver coins.

They had intended for the whole family to flee the disaster, only to find that it was the same everywhere. In the end, she was the only one of her family left alive.

Huaihua knew swordsmanship. Even as she was starving on the street, she still clutched her sword to her chest.

I gave her food, and she followed me from then on, calling me “Miss” at every turn.

I told her, “You are older than me; I should call you ‘Sister.'”

She shook her head. “Miss saved my life and provides for me now. From this day forward, Huaihua’s life belongs to you.”

Lan Guan, who had been missing for nearly three years, eventually returned as well.

He had grown much taller, with a lithe and sturdy build. His hair was a mess, but his features remained strikingly beautiful. The moment he saw me, his eyes reddened with an aggrieved look.

“Yinyin, I missed you.”

Only later did I learn that when he went out to find food that year, he was kidnapped by mountain bandits. He had spent three years in their lair, working like a slave, until he finally found an opportunity to sneak away.

It’s hard to say if it was good or bad luck; while so many people had starved to death in the world, he had managed to survive in a den of thieves.

My maternal grandfather’s family had been merchants for generations. By the time I turned fifteen, I had inherited some of their talent.

Not only did I manage the manor well, but I also opened a shop in the city. The shop sold flatbread with meat fillings. Besides Lan Guan, I hired two other workers to help out.

Second Miss Yao visited me at the manor once when she had some free time. Dressed in a silk gown with colorful embroidery, she looked like a fairy descended to earth as she walked gracefully toward me, followed by two maidservants.

At the time, I was learning swordplay from Huaihua. Becoming interested, she actually stepped forward, took my sword, and performed several beautiful moves.

I was somewhat surprised that she knew how to use a sword.

Yao Jingnian glanced at me and said indifferently, “It’s just a few moves for self-defense.”

That year, she turned seventeen. For a noble daughter of a prominent family like her, most would have already had their marriages arranged.

Yao Jingnian was no exception; she was bound to return to the capital eventually.

However, before she left, she and I did something earth-shattering together.

Since taking over the farm, I had some spare money in my hands, so I began to inquire about a certain person.

My mother’s former dowry maid-Xiu Qing.

My mother’s death had been a massive blow to me.

For a long time, I could not sleep at night.

I wouldn’t light the lamps in my room. With my hair disheveled, I would sit blankly by the edge of the bed, staring up at the beam in the ceiling.

I would stare and stare until the sun rose.

No matter how many flaws my mother had, no matter how hatefully weak she was, her entire heart had been devoted to me.

She was such a gentle person. When she spoke to me, it was always in a soft, low voice, her gaze tender.

When I was sick as a child, she would stay awake all night, guarding me without rest.

She would press her forehead against mine, weeping out of heartache.

In the afternoons, she would hold me in the courtyard to soak up the sun, singing “The Pavilion of Praying to the Moon” to me in a slow, gentle melody.

Wang Ruilan’s boudoir lament at the Pavilion of Praying to the Moon.

Later, as I grew up, I became quite different from the daughter she had imagined.

I had a hard personality, spoke little, and there was no warmth in my eyes.

I knew that she was actually a bit afraid of me.

Because of her past and those scandalous affairs, my eldest aunt would mock her in front of me.

She couldn’t hold her head up in front of her growing daughter.

In truth, I never actually held a grudge against her.

She was my mother.

As long as she loved me, then no matter how many thousands of faults she had, I had no right to resent her.

I simply… disliked her timid, subservient manner.

After we moved to the farm, she once picked flowers and willow branches to make a wreath for my head.

She said, “Ah Yin, from now on, Mother will make sure we live a good life.”

Afterward, she went back inside to cook. I took the wreath off and tossed it into the edge of the field.

I will never forget the look on her face when she came out to get firewood and happened to see the discarded wreath. Her eyes turned red, and she looked utterly at a loss.

Wiping away tears, she retreated into the courtyard.

I wanted to explain to her, to tell her that I just didn’t like the wreath, not that I didn’t like her.

But as soon as she started crying, I felt irritated.

I frowned and walked away.

Between us, mother and daughter, there was a gap after all.

It wasn’t until after she died that I began to stare at that beam, wondering what she had been feeling at that moment.

She must have been crying again, trembling with fear as she put her neck into the noose.

In the past, her crying was so annoying.

Her eyes would get all red like a rabbit’s, and she would always hesitate, wanting to say something to me: “Ah Yin, Ah Yin…”

What was it she wanted to say?

Oh, she wanted to say: Mother was wrong.

The day she died, on the table she had climbed to hang herself, she had written those three words in blood-Mother was wrong.

Ah Yin, Mother was wrong.

Ah Yin, please don’t be angry.

Mother was wrong, please don’t be angry, alright?

In the dead of night, I would stare blankly at the roof beam, wondering what it felt like to hang to death.

So I also took a rope, climbed onto the table, and stuck my head into the loop.

Then I leaned my body forward, letting my feet dangle in the air.

Suffocation, struggling… finally, I was saved by Huaihua.

Since her death, it was as if I had fallen ill.

Every time darkness fell, I would always think of that song she sang, “The Pavilion of Praying to the Moon.”

Why did I only understand what it meant after she was dead?

It turned out she envied the high-born lady Wang Ruilan so much.

She envied how, despite her hardships, Wang Ruilan had the chance to decide her own fate.

“To crave a scholar of broken scrolls, modest and gentle in deep affection.
To crave a short sword of light craft, bold and fierce in a wicked fate.
Those who betray their conscience, the blue heavens watch from above.”