Chapter 112: Unfilial and Unfraternal

Embroider Maiden and Wu Wei shared a single mount, with a young yellow calf tied to the saddle that trotted obediently along behind them. A cloth bundle strapped to the calf’s back held the Four Treasures of the Study along with a few books.

It was Embroider Maiden’s first time on horseback, and she was thrilled, pointing out the passing scenery to Wu Wei like an excited child.

Seated behind her, Wu Wei followed her gaze and smiled warmly.

The little calf was named Ah Huang, a moniker Embroider Maiden had chosen.

The horse went by Chou Chou, Wu Wei’s pick.

After purchasing the horse, the two had lingered one more day in Clear River County. They asked around for Zhang Cheng’s home, left a calling card, and met him the following morning. Zhang Cheng was delighted to see Wu Wei, and the pair chatted at length.

He informed her that once his colleague delivered her “household registration,” she could officially settle in Clear River County. At that point, he would send someone with the migration permit to her little courtyard. From then on, she would need to report back to Clear River County once a month to renew it.

The Liang Dynasty’s household registration system was quite strict. Without one, Wu Wei had enjoyed a degree of freedom before, but now that she had official status, she would be subject to oversight to prevent her from becoming an unregistered drifter again.

With all their errands completed, both Embroider Maiden and Wu Wei were in high spirits. Chou Chou might not have been much to look at, but it was docile and steady, with good endurance if not outright speed. It carried the two of them along at an even pace with minimal jolting.

They rode the full day and reached their little courtyard just before sunset. Wu Wei did some quick calculations—if Chou Chou carried only one rider, it could go faster. Departing before dawn, they could make it home before dark, sparing them an overnight stay in Clear River County. That suited her perfectly.

Wu Wei tethered Ah Huang and Chou Chou in the back hills, letting them graze contentedly. The next morning, when Eldest Sister Li’s family arrived, they were overjoyed to see the new livestock. Now they even had an ox to haul grain—no more worries there.

The fields belonging to Embroider Maiden and Wu Wei’s household were already in the midst of harvest, with just two more days until completion. From what Eldest Sister Li said, Old Lady Liu had joined in the work as well. Though advanced in years and not as spry as she once was, she had still done her part.

Wu Wei and Embroider Maiden exchanged a glance, both lost in thought.

Truth be told, Wu Wei harbored some resentment toward Old Lady Liu. Without her indulgence and willful blindness, Liu Cuicui would never have grown so overbearing, nor would Embroider Maiden have endured so much hardship.

Yet after a few days of interaction, Wu Wei realized Old Lady Liu wasn’t simply “playing deaf and dumb.” She was genuinely mild-mannered, never fussing over food or clothing, quietly laboring without seeking praise. No wonder Embroider Maiden used to say their family had been pushed around by the villagers for half a lifetime.

That very noon, Embroider Maiden unrolled a fresh bolt of indigo-blue cloth, cut it to size, and began sewing garments. Wu Wei knew exactly who they were for and simply lay beside her in companionable silence.

The past few days of travel had left Wu Wei’s lower back aching faintly again. She needed to rest and recover properly.

…

Three days passed in a flash, and the harvest was fully gathered. Eldest Sister Li beamed from ear to ear—their own grain stores had nearly run dry, and without the meals provided by Wu Wei’s household, they would have struggled to get by.

Tax time proved an interesting affair, and Wu Wei took part from start to finish.

The Liang Dynasty’s tax code was fair: it levied grain directly from the farmers rather than silver, with varying rates depending on the crop. Fine grains faced lighter levies, coarse grains heavier ones.

Don’t let the slim difference between “levying grain” and “levying silver” fool you—the gap was enormous!

Under a silver levy, farmers would first have to sell their grain, then convert the coppers to silver—a process full of pitfalls. A grain merchant squeezing the price could leave them destitute, and in years when copper was cheap and silver dear, a whole year’s toil might go for naught.

By the prescribed ratios, Wu Wei’s few acres owed six hundred catties of coarse grain. They loaded the unhusked harvest onto an oxcart, took it to the village for shelling, bagging, weighing, and logging before sealing it in the public granary for the imperial collectors.

They ran into Zhang Shuisheng during tax payment; he was the one adept with the abacus, handling the calculations.

The village head personally kept the records, under the watchful eye of the village headman, with public weighing to ensure not a speck went astray.

Only after the public levy was settled did they divide the remainder. Per their agreement, it was split evenly, leaving each household with over four hundred catties.

Wu Wei and Embroider Maiden rarely ate coarse grains, so they planned to sell theirs at market for fine ones. Eldest Sister Li’s family had no such need—fine grains were too pricey for them. At most, they might swap for ten catties of polished rice to entertain guests.

Wu Wei roughly estimated that back on Blue Star, a modern family of three needed about two hundred catties of rice a year. Eldest Sister Li’s clan were all heavy laborers with hearty appetites, so these four hundred catties would suffice but leave little surplus by next harvest.

The thought made Wu Wei sigh at the farmers’ lot—and tenants’ was even harsher. She already counted herself unusually generous; even so, the split barely covered Eldest Sister Li’s family’s basic needs. Market tenants were lucky to get thirty percent, slaving away a year only to scrape by—if no one fell ill or met disaster.

Truly, when a ruler prospered, the people suffered; when he fell, they suffered still.

That day dawned bright and clear, with gentle breezes.

Wu Wei and Embroider Maiden rode together, the little yellow calf pulling a cart laden with grain. Old Lady Liu and Eldest Sister Li—who drove the cart—sat atop it as their little caravan headed to market.

Old Lady Liu wore a brand-new indigo ruqun skirt and, inspired by Eldest Sister Li, even cracked a smile on her weathered face.

The heavily loaded cart moved slowly, taking two hours to reach the market. Wu Wei stabled Big Yellow and Chou Chou, tipping the handler five coppers so they could eat and drink their fill.

Embroider Maiden summoned a clerk from the grain shop, who wheeled off their sacks.

Fresh from harvest, the market buzzed with activity as farmers hauled in half a year’s labor: swapping coarse for fine grain, or trading surplus for daily necessities and silver.

Each grain shop displayed a board at its entrance listing buy and sell prices for every crop—open, fair dealings for young and old alike.

Wu Wei and Embroider Maiden’s grain poured into the shop’s bins, exchanged for a hundred catties of rice. Wu Wei added a sack of wheat flour, while Eldest Sister Li traded a sack of coarse grain for nearly ten catties of white rice.

“Eldest Sister Li, let’s store the rice at the granary for now,” Wu Wei suggested. “We can browse the market.”

“Sure thing! What else do you need? I’ll carry it!”

Embroider Maiden approached Eldest Sister Li and handed her a coin purse. “Eldest Sister Li, this is Er Ya’s wage for watching the house, feeding the dogs and chickens, and tending the vegetable patch. We agreed on this beforehand—one hundred thirty coppers in total. But with me away so often lately, everything fell to Er Ya. She helped a great deal, so let’s make it two hundred.”

Eldest Sister Li wouldn’t hear of it.

“No, no, that won’t do! You feed my whole family—polished rice and white flour, meat at every meal. No employer treats us better. House-sitting doesn’t warrant pay!”

She tried shoving the purse back into Embroider Maiden’s arms. Embroider Maiden couldn’t fend her off and shot Wu Wei a pleading look. Wu Wei took the purse and spoke solemnly. “Sister, I know you’re a proud woman who earns her keep through honest toil. But we’re more than patron and worker—we’re like sisters, aren’t we? Look at your three girls: Da Ya hands down her old clothes to Er Ya, Er Ya’s to San Ya. You all labor so hard, patching rags on rags. By the time they reach Er Ya, they’re threadbare; San Ya’s practically in rags. They’re growing girls, after all. Embroider Maiden and I hate seeing it. Even if you refuse the coin, we’d buy cloth for new outfits so they can have a proper New Year. Take it—this is Er Ya’s honest earning!”

Tears welled in the sturdy woman’s eyes as she accepted the purse with both hands.

“It’s my failing as a mother. They’ve suffered because of me.”

Embroider Maiden comforted her. “Don’t say that, Sister. There’s no finer mother anywhere. Things will only get better.”

“Indeed,” Wu Wei agreed. “Embroider Maiden’s right. Thank you—thank you both.”

…

In the end, Wu Wei’s group purchased eight bolts of cloth, ten catties of cotton, two sacks of salt, plus the herbs and sundries Wu Wei required before heading home laden with goods.

Eldest Sister Li bought one bolt of coarse ochre cloth; Embroider Maiden gifted her two bolts of green and five catties of cotton—for winter clothes for the children or sturdy quilts to weather the cold.

A month slipped by. Wu Wei’s household registration was finalized, and the migration permit arrived—along with a letter for Zhang Shuisheng’s family. It named his son with Second Lady Liu: Junzhuo.

The meaning: “A modest gentleman, outstanding yet unique.”

However, the given name was too refined, and the Zhang family elders feared the child would be spoiled and fail to thrive. So they gave him a nickname—Zhuzi(Pillar)—hoping he would grow to support the family. Pillars were sturdy things, easy to raise, after all. Until the boy began his schooling, everyone simply called him by that pet name.

Wu Wei had ordered materials in the county town, planning to hire workers in a few days to build a stable for the horses and another for the cattle. She had also picked out a fine spot on the mountain where she intended to excavate a cave. But then Old Lady Liu fell ill.

Word spread quickly. Second Lady Liu, still in her double month of postpartum confinement, hurried over to Embroider Maiden and Wu Wei’s home to tend to her.

Old Lady Liu had been staying with Embroider Maiden for three months now. She had put on some healthy weight, and the wrinkles on her face had softened noticeably.

Yet at this moment, she lay silently on the kang, tears streaming down her cheeks. No matter how her two daughters pressed her with questions, the old lady merely sighed, refusing to utter a word.

Second Lady Liu and Embroider Maiden were utterly at a loss. Wu Wei had a pretty good idea what was wrong, but as an outsider, she couldn’t very well spell it out. Instead, she asked Zhang Shuisheng to fetch the old physician from Returning Spring Hall to examine Old Lady Liu.

The old doctor stroked his beard as he addressed the group. “What the old lady has is a disease of the heart.”

Second Lady Liu grew frantic. “Sir, how do we treat a heart ailment? Please, write us a prescription…”

Embroider Maiden caught the knowing look on Wu Wei’s face and understood at once. She took Second Lady Liu by the arm and led her into the west room. After shutting the doors and windows, she sat on the edge of the kang and asked softly, “Mother, do you want to go home?”

Old Lady Liu’s eyes flew open at the question, fresh tears spilling over.

Second Lady Liu caught on too. She turned to Embroider Maiden. “Didn’t Eldest Sister say she would come after the autumn harvest?”

Embroider Maiden shot Second Lady Liu a sharp glance, urging silence. Old Lady Liu squeezed her eyes shut again.

“They…!”

“Second Sister!”

Second Lady Liu clamped her mouth shut, but the shock lingering in her eyes refused to fade.

Liu Cuicui and her husband—who had inherited every last bit of the Liu family property—had no intention of ever taking their mother back!