Chapter Twenty-Eight: It Is Vengeance, Not Gratitude

Xinliu made another mistake and could no longer contain her impatience. She set down the wooden stick and asked, “Xier, are you the only one home? Has Brother Zhuzi not returned yet?”

“Mm.” An Yi hadn’t expected Xinliu to be so thick-skinned, asking so directly. She merely gave a faint snort.

Xinliu bit her lip, her face flushing slightly as she pressed, “Why hasn’t Brother Zhuzi come back?”

“He has things to take care of.” An Yi lifted her gaze to look at her, curious to see if Xinliu would dare ask further.

“What could Brother Zhuzi be so busy with that he can’t even come home?” An Yi had clearly underestimated Xinliu’s persistence, who asked in a slightly teasing tone.

An Yi felt a flicker of irritation but could not show it. She smiled faintly and gave no answer.

Xinliu opened her mouth but ultimately didn’t dare ask any more.

Madam Luo had been called away by Madam Yang and was not at home. Naturally, An Yi would not give Xinliu any food, so Xinliu had to return home empty-handed.

“Big sister, why didn’t you bring anything to eat?” Zhu Qiao, Xinliu’s younger brother, asked discontentedly.

“Madam An wasn’t at home,” Xinliu replied weakly.

Sitting at the kitchen door weaving straw sandals, Aunt Liu noticed Xinliu’s odd demeanor. She put down her work and asked Xinliu’s younger sister, Congliu, to take the three youngest children out to play. Then she followed Xinliu into the house and asked, “What’s the matter with you?”

Xinliu sat on a small wooden stool. “It’s nothing.”

“Nothing? Then who are you showing that half-dead face to?” Aunt Liu glared at her. “Did you see Zhuzi?”

Xinliu shook her head. “He didn’t come back; he’s busy.”

“He didn’t come back this time, but he’ll be back next time. His home is here, he’ll always return. Missing him once is no big deal. Why are you so anxious? It’s all meat in the bowl; do you think he’ll run away?” Aunt Liu scratched her head vigorously. “My scalp itches to death—I need to boil water to wash my hair.”

Xinliu sighed. “Madam An won’t agree.”

“She dares not agree? That would be ungrateful.” Aunt Liu snorted coldly. “The gossip of the villagers could drown her.”

Xinliu frowned. “Mother, you know exactly how that favor came to be.”

“So what? If I don’t say anything and you don’t say anything, who will know? Whether Luo Qiumei wants it or not, she has to accept this favor.” Aunt Liu smiled smugly. “Rest easy. I’ll make sure your wish comes true. Once Zhuzi passes the scholar’s exam, you’ll be a scholar’s wife—so prestigious. Then I’ll get to enjoy a peaceful life alongside you.”

Thinking of such a happy future, Xinliu’s guilt toward An Yi vanished without a trace. She pursed her lips and smiled sweetly.

The schemes of Xinliu and her mother were unknown to An Yi. Likewise, they had no idea that An Yi had already guessed their intentions.

An Yi simply wanted to keep Xinliu from coming to her home; she had no intention of letting her off so easily. After days of observation, she had learned that Xinliu’s family was one of the few in Jingtang Village who only ate two meals a day. Every morning, Xinliu fetched three buckets of water from the well, washed clothes if there were any, then went up the mountain to dig for wild vegetables. In the afternoon, she sometimes went to the southern bamboo grove to gather bamboo branches to make brooms, or stayed home to weave straw sandals and reed mats.

On this morning, An Yi once again stood under her umbrella atop a small earthen slope near the mountain foot and not far from the village entrance, just at the spot where the path led up the mountain.

Xinliu wore a raincoat, carried a large bamboo basket, and braved the rain to climb the mountain. Though Jingtang villagers were not wealthy, most families would not let their children out in the rain for fear of accidents. Girls like Da Ya usually only picked wild vegetables near the village and rarely ventured up the mountain. But Xinliu, regardless of the weather, always went. After paying taxes and rent, her family’s grain lasted only three and a half months, so wild vegetables were their staple for most of the year.

Xinliu’s solitary trip up the mountain was the perfect opportunity to act, if only it weren’t raining. An Yi couldn’t go out in such weather, and even if she could, she couldn’t stay out long. If she lingered, Madam Luo would worry and come looking for her. On sunny days, there were too many people on the mountain, making it harder to act.

Just as An Yi was pondering how to get rid of Xinliu, a snake silently slithered out from the grass behind her, heading for her feet. Li Guyu appeared seemingly out of nowhere, grabbed the snake by the head, and stuffed it into a bamboo basket.

An Yi wasn’t frightened by the snake, but the sudden arrival startled her. She stepped back several times, almost tripping over the grass. Seeing it was him, she exhaled in relief. “Thank you for saving me.”

“The snake isn’t venomous.”

“But a bite would still hurt.”

Li Guyu glanced at her, took two steps, then stopped and looked back. “There are more snakes in the rain.”

An Yi responded to his kindness with a gentle smile. “Thank you for the warning. I’ll be careful.”

Li Guyu watched her smile, his eyes flickering, then tugged at his lips and walked away with his head down.

An Yi followed behind him, descending the slope toward home.

Du Fu’s quatrain had stumped Xinliu. After three days, she brought little Zhu Sheng along again. “Xier, the words in this poem are too hard to write. I can’t manage it. Could you teach me something simpler?”

“Is it really so hard?” An Yi’s brows furrowed slightly. “My brother says learning to read and write means facing difficulties head-on. If you shrink from challenges, there’s no point in learning.”

Hearing this, Xinliu hurriedly said, “Then please teach me again. I’ll try it again when I get home.”

An Yi had just written a line when little Zhu Sheng suddenly began to cry.

Xinliu picked him up, patting and soothing him while asking, “Where did Aunt go?”

A flash of anger crossed An Yi’s lowered eyes. Since when had Madam Luo become a nanny for Xinliu’s children? She answered coolly, “My mother went to my great-uncle’s.”

Little Zhu Sheng was easy to comfort. After a few pats, he stopped crying. Xinliu put him back in the basket and let him play with his fingers.

Seeing his dirty little hands, An Yi felt nauseated. She went to the next room for paper and ink. “Copy it once on the paper, take it home, and practice slowly.”

Xinliu copied the poem from the book, blew the ink dry, folded the paper, and tucked it into her bosom. She glanced around, noticing the half-finished sachet on the wooden stool by the bed. She picked it up, “Xier, did you make this?”

“Yes.” An Yi saw she was lingering, hoping to wait for Madam Luo to return so she could get something. An Yi’s eyes shifted. “Xinliu, take your brother and go home. I need to go cut grass for the rabbits.”

“Isn’t your second brother the one who does that?” Xinliu knew An Yi’s family well.

“He cut too little yesterday. The rabbits have eaten everything. He won’t be back until the afternoon. If the rabbits go hungry, they won’t gain weight and will get thin. I need to cut some for them now.” An Yi went out first.

Xinliu bit her lip, resigned, and had no choice but to carry her basket and follow.

An Yi fetched the sickle and bamboo basket from the woodshed and left with Xinliu and her brother.

Xinliu returned empty-handed yet again, earning another round of complaints from her siblings.

—Extra Notes—

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