Chapter 279

Upon hearing the news, Wang Xiujin was stunned for a long time before letting out a slow sigh. He was not a woman and could not fathom a woman's thoughts, nor did he understand why his sister-in-law had acted as she did. Was it out of guilt? Or did she wish for the children to resent the Wang family? Whichever it was, he did not consider it wise. His sister-in-law’s death was like a leaf falling into a quiet lake—it stirred no ripples. No one would tell the children the true cause of her death; they would say she died in childbirth, and the newborn child would bear the burden of a reputation for having brought about her mother’s demise.

Casting a cold glance at the messenger, Wang Xiujin sighed. This person could not be allowed to stay; no matter how tight-lipped, nothing compares to the silence of the dead. Wang Xiujin never considered himself particularly virtuous. For the sake of family harmony, he would rather be the villain. The messenger, had he been wise, would not have spoken of “suicide.” Those who live long are never those who presume to be clever.

Setting aside what he was doing, Wang Xiujin went to the Wang family estate. White banners already hung at the gate. Upon entering, the steward promptly handed him a strip of white cloth, and a nearby matron helped tie it for him, muttering ritual words as she did so. Wang Xiujin paid little heed, moving on once the cloth was secured. The mourning hall had been set up in the courtyard prepared for his elder brother. Wang Xiujin went in, offered incense for his sister-in-law, and bowed before rising.

The ritual master recited a few more words. Beside him, his sister-in-law’s three sons knelt, tossing paper offerings into a bronze vessel. Wang Xiujin approached, crouched beside his nephews, and threw in some paper himself. He found no words of comfort. Zhiyuan and Zizhuo were somewhat better off; they had spent less time by their mother’s side, and their grief was less than that of Zize, whose tears had not ceased.

“Did you send word to my elder brother?” Wang Xiujin asked. Even if a messenger were sent, his brother would not return for a month, by which time the burial would be over. Communication in ancient times was truly inconvenient.

“We sent someone as soon as it happened, traveling day and night by fast horse, hoping to deliver the news as soon as possible,” Wang Xiuyun replied with a sigh for their sister-in-law.

“How is Mother?” Wang Xiujin hadn’t seen his mother in the mourning hall and asked his eldest sister.

“Her mood is not good. Go see her,” Wang Xiuyun sighed, thinking of their mother’s state.

“Watch over the three children. I’ll go check on Mother,” Wang Xiujin said anxiously and hurried to his mother’s courtyard. Upon seeing her, he found she had grown haggard. Kneeling before her, he took her hand. “Mother.”

“I’m fine. I’m getting old, my heart softens, and I think too much,” Lady Wang sighed, patting her son’s hand. “Your sister-in-law was truly ruthless. My little granddaughter never tasted a drop of her milk, and now she must carry a bad reputation all her life.”

“Mother, as long as our family stands, what does reputation matter? When she grows up, there will still be lines of suitors eager to marry her,” Wang Xiujin spoke not to comfort, but honestly. With the Wang family backing her, even if she was known for bringing about her mother’s death, or worse, infamous as a courtesan, some would still seek to ally with them.

Lady Wang understood, but in her heart she still resented her daughter-in-law. Whether out of guilt or a wish to disrupt the Wang family, such actions left a bitter taste.

“Mother, not for others, but for my brother’s three children and the Wang family’s name, even if you are upset, you must go see her. After all, she bore four children for our family,” Wang Xiujin urged. Though no one would judge Lady Wang for not attending the mourning hall, the difference between being spoken of kindly or ill behind one’s back was significant. “What did the Chun family say?”

“What can they say? They aren’t blood kin. As long as the families maintain appearances, it’s enough. The close attendants have been silenced; nothing will spread. Childbirth is risky for women, and she delivered early—it’s not unusual,” Lady Wang reassured her son. “When the time comes, she’ll be buried. If your brother makes it back, he can attend the funeral. If not, she has no one to blame.” Lady Wang spoke through gritted teeth.

“Is she to be sent back to Wang Village or buried in the capital?” This needed to be settled; the burial site affected the treatment received.

“If it were up to me, I’d find a spot in the capital and bury her, but for the sake of my grandchildren, send her back to Wang Village!” Lady Wang sighed deeply. “Enough, stop bothering me. Let me be.” She waved her son away, feeling more troubled the longer she thought. If her eldest daughter-in-law hadn’t acted so, none of this would have happened.

Seeing his mother’s mood improve, Wang Xiujin did not linger, stepping out to inquire about his niece. Learning she was in his mother’s inner chamber, cared for by Lady Wang, he abandoned the idea of visiting her and headed back to the mourning hall.

Before leaving his mother’s courtyard, the steward hurried over. “Someone from the city gate has sent word: the eldest young master has arrived in the capital and is heading to the Censorate to find the master.”

Wang Xiujin was surprised. His brother had returned quickly. But seeing he was going to the Censorate first, not home, suggested he had come for another reason, not because of his wife’s passing. Wang Xiujin instructed the steward to relay the news to the mourning hall and turned back to inform his mother.

Lady Wang’s expression shifted upon hearing her eldest son was in the capital, finally settling into a long sigh. “The Chun woman truly has luck on her side.”

Wang Xiujin was not well-versed in funeral rites, but his mother’s demeanor suggested she did not wish his brother to appear. “Is Father still at the Censorate today?”

“The Chun woman’s death isn’t such a big deal. Why should your father be delayed from his duties?” Lady Wang looked at her son as if he were foolish. “Besides, there seems to be something important lately; your father is very busy.”

Wang Xiujin nodded. “I’ll go to the mourning hall. If my brother rushes in and acts out, I can try to restrain him.” He truly was unsure of his brother’s temperament these days.

“With your father here, what can he possibly do?” Lady Wang sneered. “Still, you should go. It’s not right to hide in my rooms all the time.”

Returning to the mourning hall, Wang Xiujin saw the three children’s faces streaked with tears. Wang Xiuyun wiped her face with a handkerchief. In the hall, an unfamiliar woman burned paper offerings. Wang Xiujin stepped aside, as even a public mourning hall required some discretion.

After the woman left, Wang Xiuyun explained, “She is a member of the Chun family’s main house.”

“Why hasn’t anyone from the Chun family come?” Wang Xiujin asked quietly. Even if she wasn’t born to their family, appearances should be maintained.

“They came together earlier. Before you arrived, someone persuaded them to leave,” Wang Xiuyun sighed, thinking of their sister-in-law’s fate. “I sent word to your brother-in-law, asking him to bring the children to burn offerings. We must do what’s proper and not leave room for criticism.”

Wang Xiujin nodded. With Li Linshan absent, Yachang should come to burn paper, and tomorrow Linfu could come on behalf of the Li family. For others, it wasn’t necessary; the deceased was a young woman, and it wasn’t convenient for men to attend.

“The eldest daughter of the Li family from the General’s residence has arrived,” came a quiet announcement at the entrance. Wang Xiujin was startled, then understood—the Li family wished to demonstrate their respect. He and his sister quickly went to greet her.

Li Linfu carried herself with the dignity befitting a young lady, dressed in plain clothes and supported by her maid. She greeted Wang Xiujin and Wang Xiuyun, then proceeded to the mourning hall to pay her respects and burn offerings. At the door she said, “Xiujin, your brother has returned to the capital and is reporting at the palace. He will come once he returns home.”

Wang Xiujin felt relief upon hearing Li Linshan was back. When family was away, hearts were anxious. Now he was home, and Wang Xiujin could rest easy.

Li Linfu did not stay long, leaving soon after. Shortly after, members of the Song family arrived, and then others, mostly women. Wang Xiujin avoided them, slipping away. With Li Linshan back, he thought it was time to begin experiments at the military workshop and the shipyard. After the New Year, he would ask the emperor to let Li Linshan accompany him to the shipyard, using Li Linshan’s presence to keep unruly people in check.

Wang Xiubo returned with his father. Other than the sadness on his face, his eyes showed no particular emotion. Lord Wang did not come to the mourning hall. Wang Xiubo offered incense for Chun, then kept vigil with his son. His trip to the capital was for official business; he had planned to come and go quickly, and visit the Chun family to resolve matters, whether separation or otherwise, to ease Chun’s heart. Fate, however, had other plans. Upon arrival, he received the tragic news. He could only lament the whims of destiny.

Wang Xiuyun and Wang Xiujin exchanged glances, neither attempting to offer words of comfort.

Soon, Song Hongyi brought his son, and after offering incense, sent the boy home, remaining to accompany his wife in keeping vigil at the Wang family home. As dusk fell, Wang Xiujin sent a servant to the Li residence, instructing him not to summon Yachang if night fell, but to wait until morning. Li Linshan had not arrived yet, likely still at the palace, with no telling when he would return.

As Wang Xiujin had guessed, just as he sent a servant with the message, someone arrived from the palace, summoning Lord Wang.

Wang Xiubo approached his siblings, asking them to look after the children while he visited his mother and daughter. He remained with his mother until after supper. With no more visitors expected, Wang Xiujin sat with the three children on a bench, quietly watching the coffin. On ordinary nights, the cold seemed insignificant, but tonight, despite the heated floor, the room felt chilly. Wang Xiujin fetched small blankets for the children and continued to gaze at the coffin, the label above his sister-in-law’s head containing only two words: death.

Zhiyuan and Zizhuo sat on either side of their uncle, clutching his sleeves. Zize gazed pitifully at the coffin, silently weeping. Wang Xiuyun, though not fond of her nephew, could not bear to see him cry incessantly. She sat beside him and soothed him in a low voice, which only made Zize cry harder, collapsing into her arms and soaking her collar with tears. Wang Xiuyun’s heart ached, recalling the scene when they left the capital years ago.

The two older brothers sniffled as their younger brother cried. Wang Xiujin gently patted them, suddenly remembering a childhood song from his previous life, feeling his own heart grow sour. Hearing his sister recount old stories, his eyes reddened. In their youth, even when suffering together, their hearts were united. Now, each had their own family and their thoughts centered there, unconsciously neglecting their closest kin, perhaps even harming them, directly or indirectly. Small grievances could fester, growing larger over time, eroding family bonds, until they became estranged, perhaps even enemies, exchanging pleasantries on the surface while speaking ill in secret.

“I never thought you would remember, Eldest Sister.” Listening as she recounted old times, Wang Xiujin’s mind conjured scene after scene. “You held a grudge for a long time over Father’s slap.”

“I still do,” Wang Xiuyun admitted, not concealing her feelings. “I was truly angry at Father then, and even now I cannot understand his actions.”

“Perhaps it was out of resentment,” Wang Xiubo, who had been listening, finally spoke, giving a bitter smile. “Father’s path was too smooth before. I also was at fault; as the eldest son, I failed to support the family, letting you all suffer.” Thinking back, Wang Xiubo felt deep remorse. All their money had come from his brother’s efforts. Regardless of difficulty, without his brother’s ideas, their family would never have caught the emperor’s eye again. His brother need not have shared his earnings every year, yet since he entered officialdom, he had never worried about gifts or favors, while his brother established workshops in Wuxian, all to add to his achievements. His brother’s sacrifices had, unconsciously, become things he took for granted.

Truth be told, without his brother’s guidance, his own path in the imperial examinations might not have gone so smoothly. Wang Xiubo looked at his brother; he was still the same as before, whether for the Wang or the Li family, treating kin without reserve. It was he who had changed, becoming ungrateful.

“It's good you understand, Eldest Brother. The family still needs you to support it; we cannot let Zhiyuan bear the burden too soon,” Wang Xiuyun said bluntly, directly striking his sore spot.

Wang Xiujin remained silent, still gazing at his nephew. Though he bore the Wang family’s young master title, outsiders saw him as bearing the Li surname. The Wang family’s fortunes were not his to decide; his concerns lay with the Li family.

“Of course,” Wang Xiubo replied firmly.

Song Hongyi, ever the silent presence, reflected inwardly, feeling both moved and a little envious.