Chapter 10—Suspicion

Lan Yunjin went to the study at the usual morning hour to teach the young ladies.

But standing for too long made her back ache, and sitting left her listless.

She had not suffered such discomfort for many years, and once class was dismissed, she returned to her own quarters to rest.

For lunch, a plate of steamed carp was served. As Lan Yunjin had had no appetite these past two days, Momo Zhou had the small kitchen prepare a separate bowl of plain noodles and also cook a pot of black-bone chicken soup.

Wei Xiao had been invited by the Minister of War to drill troops and give lectures on military training. He left the residence at dawn and did not return until after sunset each day.

Lan Yunjin was more than content for Wei Xiao to be away; that way she could spend her time alone in her quarters without having to mind him.

“My lady, the Madam says you may rest in your rooms tomorrow and needn’t go to the study,” Momo Zhou advised. “I see your complexion isn’t as rosy as it was a few days ago. Teaching is a small matter, but your health is important; if your vitality is harmed, the loss would outweigh any gain.”

Lan Yunjin ate a bowl of noodles. She had no desire to drink the chicken soup, but it would be a waste to leave it, so she had Momo Zhou serve her a small bowl.

“Momo Zhou, the girls are in such high spirits with their reading lately. I can’t let them lose momentum,” Lan Yunjin said with a smile. “If I don’t go to the study, I can’t imagine what notions they’ll get into their heads. Besides, I’m perfectly fine; staying in my room would only leave me idle.”

The young ladies were lively, all smiles from morning till night, and though they were playful, they never stirred up trouble.

She couldn’t claim to truly like children, as that would be a lie, but at least they no longer vexed her as they once had.

Momo Zhou wiped her hands on the sash at her waist, smiling broadly.

“My lady is so composed and virtuous; even Young Lady Jun and the others have become much more well-behaved under your guidance.”

Still, she didn’t forget to add a word of concern: “Even if you feel well, my lady, you should rest these two days while your monthly periods are here.”

“I understand, Momo Zhou.”

Their time together as madam and servant had been neither long nor short; needless formalities could be spared.

After lunch, Momo Zhou and a young maid went to the kitchen to clear the dishes.

Once Momo Zhou had gone, Yuchan shut the door and helped Lan Yunjin change for her rest.

“My lady,” Yuchan whispered, “why is your monthly period so painful this time?”

She had served her madam since girlhood, and after twelve years of combing her hair, she could recognize every strand without mistake, and she knew the timing of her madam’s periods as well as her own.

Normally, it was around mid-month.

Yesterday, Pipa had wondered aloud that the lady’s periods should have come on the fifteenth, so why had they suddenly arrived on the fifth?

Her madam had always been full of healthy blood and energy. Though she spoke little, she was no dullard; she had spent her maiden days reading, embroidering, playing the zither, composing music, and reciting poetry with tireless enthusiasm.

If anyone in the family could be called lazy, it was Fifth Young Lady; she owed all her skills in needlework and music to their lady’s constant urging.

A jumble of doubts filled Yuchan’s heart. If her madam’s cycle was irregular, was it due to illness, or…?

Lan Yunjin paid no special mind to her words, thinking it only a casual inquiry.

Pressing her fingertips to her brow, she said, “Perhaps I’m just not used to the climate in Chang’an.”

“That may be so,” Yuchan mused. “If next month your back pain doesn’t ease, I’d like to have Momo Zhou call a physician to take your pulse.”

Lan Yunjin sensed something amiss in Yuchan’s tone.

“It’s only discomfort for a day or two. Calling a doctor would only worry the Madam and the rest of the family.”

Yuchan explained, “It’s just that you never used to hurt this badly. I remembered how the young Fifth Lady suffers terribly each month, unable to rise from her bed, and didn’t the doctor say it was due to a cold in her spleen and poor circulation? He prescribed medicine, and only then did it improve. I’m worried for your health, my lady.”

Lan Yunjin’s hand froze halfway to removing her hairpin.

She had been careless.

Nearly forgetting that her sister’s courses did not fall on the same days as hers, she also could not recall ever having been bedridden from the pain in her youth.

For her, it was a memory buried far in the past. For Yuchan, it was engraved in her bones.

Yuchan frowned.

Since her madam had married into the general’s mansion, leaving aside the general himself, how many of the household’s so-called refined and well-mannered masters and servants truly fit that description?

They were bold in their ways but too unconstrained and careless in their words.

Take, for instance, the Madam’s decision to have her teach the young ladies. What kind of mother-in-law assigns a daughter-in-law to substitute as a tutor?

It made little sense and was certainly a grievance for her, Madam.

Lan Yunjin placed the hairpin in her dressing case. The bronze mirror reflected her fine-browed face; she raised her eyes to meet her own gaze.

Not a wrinkle to be seen; her eyelids were not sagging with age.

“You’ve troubled yourself,” Lan Yunjin said with a sidelong glance and a smile. She sighed lightly. “I’ve been a wife for less than two months, and already my maiden days feel a lifetime away. Perhaps it’s just that I’ve slept poorly these past nights, and my body’s tired, so don’t think I’ve fallen ill.”

The reassurance, like a calming draught, eased Yuchan’s mind, though the seed of suspicion remained.

She could not name the cause and so blamed it on her own overthinking.

—-

The Qionghua Courtyard did not employ many servants. With Momo Zhou overseeing the place, every maid she chose was quick and capable.

The hour was still early when Wei Xiao returned from drills, sweating through his clothes, and went straight to his quarters to bathe.

He had not dined with his wife for two days. Once he changed into fresh robes, he went to her room.

Yuchan tiptoed to open the door.

“Young master, the young madam is sleeping.”

Wei Xiao peered inside. The incense burner by the desk sent up a thin stream of smoke; the screen blocked his view, and all was quiet.

“Is she feeling any better?” he asked.

“Better,” Yuchan replied. “She sat with the madam for tea around noon, then came back and fell asleep.”

Realizing she was barring him from his wife’s room, she quickly stepped aside to invite him in.

But Wei Xiao did not wish to disturb her rest.

“I won’t go in.”

At that moment, his wife’s voice drifted out, “Why does my husband not come in?”

Wei Xiao was momentarily speechless, his legs carrying him forward against his will.

Lan Yunjin was a light sleeper; even the faintest sound would rouse her.

He lifted his robe hem and sat at the tea table.

As always, Lan Yunjin leaned against the headboard and asked if he would like tea or some cakes and what he wanted for supper.

Then came the polite words about how hard he had been working at drills, how the weather was growing hotter, and whether she should prepare a water flask for him tomorrow.

If she did not call him “husband,” he would feel like a guest, and she the host.

It was like swallowing a mouthful of astringent, throat-drying wild fruit when he answered stiffly,

“No need.”

He knew not one of her questions came from true sincerity.

Wei Xiao rested his arm on the chair’s armrest in the manner of a civil official, a pose he had deliberately studied from the Minister of War these past two days.

His wife liked refined manners. This was not hard to imitate, and he thought he could manage it.

“I won’t be going to drills tomorrow,” Wei Xiao said, staring at Lan Yunjin. “Your younger sister and her husband are arriving in Chang’an, and I’ll be going to meet them.”

“My sister and her husband…” Lan Yunjin blinked. “They’re arriving tomorrow?”

Her eyes lit with joy, her gaze brimming with laughter.

“Yes.” Wei Xiao could not look away.

She had not been this pleased even on the day they were wed.

Footnotes:

1. Cold in the spleen and poor circulation—in traditional Chinese medicine, a diagnosis indicating weakness in digestive energy and internal cold, often associated with menstrual pain.

Translator’s Note: Hello, dear readers, do let me know if you like this novel and want me to continue it or not.