The second day of the lunar new year was the day for married daughters to return to their parents’ home. Aunt Li Cuilan and Fourth Aunt Li Cuilian had both married nearby, while their own mother and Aunt Hong lived in the same village as their parents. Before mid-morning, the four sisters, their husbands, and seven children had already gathered at their parents’ home.
Each couple paid their New Year respects to the elderly couple and presented their gifts.
The eldest daughter and her husband were hardworking farmers. Zhang Tieshuan, the eldest son-in-law, was a year younger than Li Cuilan and had an honest, straightforward appearance. Both were tanned and rough-skinned from long days of labor, yet their faces radiated contentment and happiness, a picture of harmony. They brought produce from their own fields. Li Cuilan, clever and resourceful, had managed to cultivate a small greenhouse during the harsh winter, growing fresh vegetables. Though seemingly humble, the rarity of such produce in winter made it special. Their only son had already married and had children, and today he had gone to his wife’s parents’ home, so he wasn’t with them.
Li Cuimei had spent most of the past year recuperating. Despite her skill in needlework, she had been forbidden from straining her eyes or doing any sewing. As a result, she hadn’t prepared anything. Fortunately, Lin Dalang often brought back small trinkets during his outings, which he had Guicheng keep for him. Now, they could serve as makeshift gifts—a jade hair ornament for his mother-in-law. Though the jade wasn’t of the finest quality, the craftsmanship was exquisite, and flaws were hardly noticeable unless examined closely. For his father-in-law, he gifted a gold-wrapped jade pipe, as Li Qingyun had no other vices but loved to smoke.
Li Cuihong brought a large food box filled with assorted pastries, while Lin Erlang presented a pair of daggers he had forged himself.
Zhou Xiaosuo, the only son in his family, was the shortest among the four sons-in-law and bore some resemblance to Lin Boshi. Though his family didn’t own a shop, he was a businessman—though, as Lin Fang put it, his business seemed more like a shell company. He and Li Cuilian brought an assortment of small items: pouches, fan pendants, rouge boxes, rattles, and other trinkets. To Lin Fang, it felt like a peddler had emptied his treasure trove.
Ziyang’s wife, Daping, had striking features and a lively tongue, praising everything she saw. Their three daughters—eight-year-old Li Yinrong, six-year-old Li Yinhua, and four-year-old Li Yinwei—followed their mother’s lead, creating a boisterous atmosphere. Clearly, the whole family was cheerful by nature, and Lin Fang couldn’t help but giggle along.
Li Cuilian embodied the phrase “petite and delicate.” Standing just over 1.4 meters tall with a perfectly proportioned figure, her small face featured bright, lively eyes, a tiny nose and mouth, and dainty ears adorned with small blue diamond earrings. Her fair, delicate skin seemed to rival snow, and her demeanor exuded a mix of composure and vivacity, making her look like a child pretending to be mature. It was hard to believe she was already in her thirties.
Looking at Li Cuilian, Lin Fang was reminded of a couple from her childhood. The husband was tall, while the wife was as petite as Li Cuilian. Whenever they went out, the husband would carry a shoulder pole with two large baskets—one for goods and the other for his wife. Villagers often joked that he hadn’t married a wife but adopted a child, doting on her and sparing her any hardship. Years later, when Lin Fang returned home as an adult, she saw the same couple, now middle-aged, still using the shoulder pole—one basket for tools and the other for the wife. Her parents told her the couple had remained deeply in love, with the husband treating his wife like a child and the wife caring for him like a son. Later, after Lin Fang married and rarely visited, she heard from her family that the husband, now elderly, had replaced the shoulder pole with a cart, but his wife still rode in it. The couple had no children but lived happily together until old age.
After the formalities, Li Qingyun took the four sons-in-law aside to talk, while Li Ziyang became the ringleader for the children. Except for Lin Fang, who couldn’t walk yet, the kids swarmed around him, playing noisily. Lin Wen also showed the mischievousness typical of his age.
From the moment they arrived, Granny Pan had held Lin Fang and refused to let go. Now, chatting with her four daughters, she pointed to the pastries on the table, letting Lin Fang choose and feeding her.
Li Qingyun and Granny Pan were an unusual couple. While most people preferred sons and hoped for many male descendants, they had five granddaughters and no grandsons—yet they doted on the girls. Li Ziyi had two daughters, and Li Ziyang had three.
Li Cuilian, though lively and witty, couldn’t entirely hide a trace of melancholy. Behind her stood an eighteen- or nineteen-year-old girl with delicate features, her hair styled as a married woman’s. She carried herself like a lady of high birth, more so than Li Cuilian herself, and held a baby boy about Lin Fang’s age. From her mother and Aunt Hong’s conversation, Lin Fang learned this woman was indeed from a respectable family but had chosen to become a concubine for unknown reasons. The baby was naturally the concubine’s child, as Li Cuilian couldn’t conceive.
“You may leave,” Li Cuilian waved dismissively.
“Yes, madam,” the concubine replied meekly, bowing. But from Lin Fang’s vantage point on her grandmother’s lap, she caught a fleeting glimpse of resentment and bitterness in the concubine’s eyes. Sensing Lin Fang’s gaze, the concubine glared at her with undisguised scorn before leaving.
*Damn it, picking on me because I’m small? What’s it to you how I look? If you’ve got a problem, say it to my face instead of glaring behind my back.*
“Waaah—scary! Waaah—!”
Lin Fang’s sudden wailing startled the women, who rushed to comfort her. But Lin Fang ignored them, pointing at the concubine and crying loudly, clearly articulating, “Glare—scary—!”
The concubine, shocked that such a young child could speak and accuse her, panicked and tried to flee with the baby. But at the door, an elderly maidservant blocked her way. No matter how she dodged, she couldn’t escape. The maidservant’s authoritative demeanor suggested high status among the servants, and the concubine didn’t dare push past, breaking into a cold sweat.
The maidservant was Liu Ma, who had been waiting outside, concerned for the sixth young miss. Seeing the concubine’s state, she feigned ignorance and asked, “What’s wrong, madam? Sweating in this cold—are you unwell?”
“N-no, thank you, ma’am. I’m just a bit warm,” the concubine stammered.
Li Cuilian’s voice turned icy. “Come back. Explain why the young miss is crying. Did you do something to frighten her?”
The concubine protested, “No, madam! How would I dare?”
Li Cuilian sneered. “You thought you could bully my niece because she’s young? You thought we wouldn’t notice your little act? Guards! Drag this wretch out and give her twenty lashes!”
Before the concubine could plead, Liu Ma stuffed a handkerchief into her mouth and swiftly took the baby from her arms. Servants waiting outside rushed in and hauled her away despite her struggles.
“What’s happening? Who made our precious Fang cry?” The commotion had drawn the men, with Li Qingyun at the forefront.
Upon learning the truth, Li Qingyun roared, “A lowly concubine daring to frighten our treasure? Execute her!”
“Father-in-law, no! You can’t!” Zhou Xiaosuo cried desperately.
“It’s bad luck to shed blood during the New Year,” Granny Pan said, suppressing her anger to avoid further upsetting her granddaughter. “Lock her in the woodshed. After the fifteenth, sell her to a broker.”
Zhou Xiaosuo relaxed at the first half of her words but panicked at the second. “Mother-in-law, you can’t sell her! She’s the mother of your grandson! If she’s sold, the child will suffer!”
Granny Pan scoffed. “Grandson? When did Cuilian bear a grandson? Ridiculous.”
Zhou Xiaosuo turned to Li Cuilian. “Cuilian, please, beg your parents for mercy. She can’t be sold!”
Li Cuilian studied him silently for a long moment, making him squirm, before saying, “Husband, let me ask you this: When you proposed to me, I was still a maid. You said you loved me for who I was, regardless of status. When you brought that woman home, you claimed I lacked refinement and needed a lady to complement me. Now this ‘lady’ has acted like a petty commoner. How can I possibly plead for her?”
Zhou Xiaosuo had no reply.
“Enough. Though Cuilian is our adopted daughter, we won’t tolerate her being insulted. Summon a broker at once. Sell the wench today.”
Zhou Xiaosuo gave up pleading, thinking the concubine’s contract was at home—how could they sell her without it?
By lunchtime, as the four sisters prepared to leave, no broker had arrived. Just as Zhou Xiaosuo began to hope, Liu Ma crushed it: “Madam, the broker said a servant who steals her own contract is unworthy of a decent household. She’s been sent where she belongs.”
On the way home, Dalang pinched his daughter’s nose and laughed. “You little rascal. You weren’t scared of your grandfather’s stern face, but a woman’s glare frightened you?”
“Giggle.”
Lin Fang’s crying had initially been meant to teach the concubine a small lesson. But when she heard her grandmother order the woman sold, she was stunned at first. Eventually, she realized this world had its own rules. If she clung to her past principles, she’d only leave herself vulnerable. From then on, she resolved that anyone who threatened or harmed her—regardless of their reasons or nature—would face consequences without mercy.
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