Chapter 182: Refusing to Be the Duke's Wife
Second Master went to Shou'an Yard.
He didn't return after the evening meal, and as the hour grew late, Cheng Zhao and Zhou Yuanqi each went back to their own quarters.
“...I heard from Mother that your birthday is coming up soon,” Cheng Zhao asked him. “Is there anything you want?”
Zhou Yuanqi's birthday was the tenth day of the eighth month.
According to her mother-in-law's view, children didn't make a big fuss over birthdays, lest they prove unable to bear such fortune.
—Children were all too prone to dying young; parents had to take care in every regard.
Every year on Zhou Yuanqi's birthday, Second Madam would make some socks and shoes, Second Master would prepare some little trinket or stationery; and there would be a bowl of longevity noodles.
On the day itself, there was barely any mention of it, as if nothing were happening at all.
Cheng Zhao laughed and said, “In Wu Commandery there's an old custom: children who haven't come of age hide by the door to eat their longevity noodles. I used to hide as a child too.”
It was to ward off little ghosts.
Ghosts saw children as easy targets, envied their good fortune in eating well, and would come to snatch them away.
So one ate longevity noodles in secret.
Second Madam said the capital had no such custom, but the rule of “keeping it concealed and unmentioned” was much the same everywhere.
“Last time he gave you a gold pig. You can return a lavish gift when he comes of age. You shouldn't give too much at this time,” Second Madam had specifically cautioned Cheng Zhao.
Cheng Zhao said she understood.
She asked Zhou Yuanqi whether he wanted writing brushes, ink, paper, an inkstone, a fine book, or something like a pouch or sachet.
“I lit a blessing lamp for Grandmother at Jin'an Temple. Every year on my birthday, Mother goes to make an offering of oil money. If you have the heart, you can also make an oil offering—that can count as your gift to me,” Zhou Yuanqi said.
Cheng Zhao was surprised. “You lit a lamp?”
“Temples don't only light lamps for the dead. The living can light blessing lamps too,” Zhou Yuanqi said.
“...You're quite filial, yet you have no taboos at all.” Cheng Zhao laughed helplessly.
Zhou Yuanqi said, “Grandmother cares least about such things. It's the thought that counts.”
Cheng Zhao promised him that on the tenth, she would go with him and her mother-in-law to Jin'an Temple to pray.
The two parted and each returned to their own courtyard.
Of the fabric for clothes that Zhou Yuanshen had bought for her in Wu Commandery last time, she had selected a set for Zhou Yuanqi and sent it to the needlework room.
The needlework room was now also under Cheng Zhao's management.
Cheng Zhao told Suyue to give extra reward money: “Tell them to work quickly and get this outer robe done for Yuanqi. If it's done very well, each embroideress will receive an additional reward from me.”
She added, “They've just cut the winter clothes, so they have Yuanqi's measurements.”
Suyue acknowledged the order.
She soon returned, smiling. “I gave five taels of reward silver and told them not to delay their current duties, and not to invite gossip for you.”
The clothes Cheng Zhao had sent over were purely extra work.
The senior embroideresses in the needlework room earned only two taels a month in wages; the rest earned even less. Five taels of reward silver from Cheng Zhao, with the promise of more, meant no one would complain.
Besides, she managed the needlework room.
“For a child's birthday, one shouldn't be too showy,” Nanny Li said.
Suyue said, “I made it clear the clothes were for the Fifth Young Master. The head supervisor merely noted that the stitching should be fine, but the embroidery can't be too elaborate.”
“She's a supervisor who understands the way of the world,” Nanny Li said.
With nothing pressing to do, Cheng Zhao brought out her sewing basket.
Her monthly cycle had come again.
While she did needlework, the maids clustered nearby, organizing threads and chatting about this and that to pass the time.
But Cheng Zhao was lost in thought.
Still no pregnancy.
She'd been married for nearly a year now.
In less than a year, she had accomplished quite a lot. Looking back, even Cheng Zhao herself couldn't help but marvel.
She hadn't dared to think highly of herself, yet her achievements were considerable.
Now, everything was moving in a good direction except for the lack of an heir.
“Will the Lord Duke be back by the Mid-Autumn Festival?” Nanny Li asked.
Cheng Zhao said, “He should be.”
Nanny Li very much wanted to say, “Let's hope this Mid-Autumn Festival can be peaceful, and we can spend the holiday together as a family.”
But she couldn't say such a thing.
The moment she said it, something was sure to go wrong.
Cheng Zhao embroidered a sachet, stitched properly with a pattern of proud bamboo—something the young scholars could carry out.
Inside she would put herbs for clearing the mind, and give it to Yuanqi to take to the clan school, as her “birthday gift” to him.
“...You haven't made a pouch for the Lord Duke yet,” Nanny Li reminded her with a smile.
Cheng Zhao said, “Didn't I make one already?”
“The one you cut apart doesn't count,” Nanny Li said with a chuckle.
“It does count.”
Nanny Li: “...”
After a pause, Nanny Li smiled and coaxed her again, “Make one for him too. You're making one for the Fifth Young Master; when the Lord Duke sees it, he's bound to grow envious.”
Cheng Zhao stitched slowly along the lines of the bamboo leaves, unhurried: “When he has nice things, I don't grow envious. Why must he be envious of what belongs to others?”
Nanny Li watched her without moving: “Aren't the two of you getting along well? Why does it sound like you're sulking?”
“Nothing of the sort.”
“Is it because of that songstress, the one the emperor bestowed?” Nanny Li asked.
Cheng Zhao said nothing, continuing her needlework in silence.
Suyue and Qiubai signaled Nanny Li with their eyes to stop bringing it up.
They figured their mistress must be hurting inside, still putting up a front before others. In private, she was having trouble holding it together; if they pressed on, she might cry.
The inner room fell silent.
Cheng Zhao didn't cry. Her needle and thread never wavered, and she calmly finished the day's embroidery.
The bamboo-patterned sachet was simple to make; Cheng Zhao finished it in two evenings. Qiubai brought out their treasured spices, and Cheng Zhao followed the old recipe, weighing out the portions and filling the sachet.
A sachet with a refined color, exquisite stitching, and a fresh, clean fragrance was done.
Cheng Zhao also found a small box to store it in.
On the tenth day of the eighth month, Cheng Zhao informed her stewards a day in advance that she would not hold meetings that day. If anything urgent arose, they could refer it to the eldest mistress, Huan Qingtang, and she would handle it later.
She went early to the Vermilion Cloud Yard.
Qiubai carried a bundle with her.
Second Madam was just putting new shoes on Zhou Yuanqi.
“...What have you prepared? Clothes?” Second Madam asked with a smile.
Cheng Zhao said, “Mother has a good eye.”
She unfolded it: a brand-new sapphire-blue outer robe, embroidered with auspicious cloud patterns, the workmanship extremely attentive and the cut just right.
Second Madam immediately had Zhou Yuanqi put it on.
“Very nice. The new clothes are bright in color,” Second Madam said.
Cheng Zhao chuckled inwardly, “The bright color makes him look even more like a porcelain doll, exquisitely carved.” She didn't dare say it aloud, fearing it might irritate her young brother-in-law, so she merely said, “He looks wonderful. Yuanqi is really growing up—he's gotten much taller.”
Zhou Yuanqi lifted his chin proudly.
With new shoes on his feet and new clothes on his back, he was very pleased: “Thank you, Mother. Thank you, Third Sister-in-Law.”
Cheng Zhao then brought out his sachet.
“...There's borneol. I like this fragrance,” Zhou Yuanqi said, in a generous mood today.
Second Madam also took it to smell: “How was this blended?”
“There's a recipe. I'll write you out a copy later,” Cheng Zhao said.
“We can wear this kind of sachet in the summer too,” Second Madam said.
Second Master had given Zhou Yuanqi a fine inkstone. But he'd gone to the yamen at dawn for court, so Cheng Zhao hadn't run into him.
The lawsuit over the man beaten to death by Princess Qing'an's consort had been sent to the Court of Judicial Review. Cheng Zhao didn't know how it would turn out.
Nor did she know how the Grand Dowager would respond, or whether she would intercede for her natal family.
Cheng Zhao and the other three set off for Jin'an Temple.
The temple's incense was booming, and with the Mid-Autumn Festival approaching, the pilgrim traffic was thick as clouds.
The Duke Chen's Mansion had informed the people in advance. A senior monk, accompanied by several young novice monks, was waiting at the courtyard gate specifically to receive Zhou Yuanqi.
Zhou Yuanqi went to light the prayer lanterns. It was in the western part of Jin'an Temple, where there was a door and ordinary pilgrims were not allowed to enter.
From a distance, Cheng Zhao also saw other pilgrims led by senior monks.
She vaguely caught sight of Helian Xuan and his mother, the Dowager Consort An.
Cheng Zhao frowned slightly.
However, they didn't encounter them during the prayer. Maybe Cheng Zhao was mistaken.
In the morning, they not only had to pray but also sit on their knees to listen to the senior monk chanting scriptures. When it was over, Cheng Zhao felt sore and tired.
Her menstrual period had just ended yesterday, and she was still weak. She slightly closed her eyes to rest.
After Zhou Yuanqi finished, he ran away, saying, "I'm going to pick osmanthus flowers in the back mountain. Mother, you and Third Sister-in-law wait for me in the vegetarian dining hall."
Cheng Zhao: "..."
Kids never seem to get tired.
"Zhaozhao, it's time to go over there and have the vegetarian meal," said the Second Madam.
Cheng Zhao said, "I'll come right away. Mother, you go first."
She wanted to take a break.
There would be a young novice monk waiting to lead her the way, so she didn't have to worry about getting lost.
Cheng Zhao quietly adjusted her breath. When she felt that she had regained some strength and was about to stand up, someone hugged her from behind.
She was shocked and instinctively struck back forcefully with her hand.