Chapter Forty-Three: Does Mother's Marriage Not Count?

Chapter Forty-Three: Mother's Marriage Does Not Count

Tie Xinyuan’s words were piercing. Yang Huaiyu glanced up at the old soldier, then lowered his head again and gnawed fiercely at the meat on the bone. The crunching sounds revealed his inner turmoil. Their ancestors had been invincible in the lands of Yan and Dai, but now their family had fallen into decline.

Yang Huaiyu’s heart ached as he recalled his family’s reaction to his resignation from his noble title. He didn’t mind giving the title to his brothers, but what pained him was his mother’s impatience—at dawn, she sent the steward to the Ministry of War to process his transfer from Fruit Battalion Captain to another post, as if she had long been prepared for this. By suggesting it himself, everyone could breathe a little easier.

He put down his rice bowl, rolled his arms, and prepared to split more firewood. Grandpa Niu had been right; his lack of effort in his youth meant his foundations were weak, and now it was hard to catch up. But it wasn't impossible. Since his family had given up on him, he would rely on his own strength to earn an official post.

As Yang Huaiyu picked up the axe, even Su Mei's ever-present, beautiful face faded from his mind. The axe struck the wood with crisp, sharp sounds. The old soldier with the lame leg, who was sipping broth, suddenly turned his head. Seeing Yang Huaiyu chopping wood again, he set down his bowl and shouted, “A hundred days of chopping wood builds strength unsparingly; if you don’t exhaust your first strength, you’ll never awaken the second!”

Yang Huaiyu seemed not to hear, splitting wood at his own steady pace, as if he felt no fatigue. In the time it took for a stick of incense to burn, the wood was piled high beside him. Only when there was no more wood to chop did he stop, shed his outer garment, and slip into the warm tub, closing his eyes as if asleep.

Tie Xinyuan, bathing with Xiao Qiao’er, had seen it all. He patted Xiao Qiao’er’s arm and said, “You’ll have to reach this level too, or else you’ll never be able to protect us.”

Xiao Qiao’er glanced at Yang Huaiyu. “I’m confident I can surpass him.”

“Boasting. That Yang Dalang made a breakthrough today. Look at those three old ghosts—how tense they are now.”

Xiao Qiao’er sneered, “Even if we master martial arts, we won’t join the army. I’d rather stay home and take care of my younger siblings.”

Tie Xinyuan glanced at the others, sprawled like dead dogs in the bath, and smiled wryly. “Looks like those fellows don’t need your care.”

Xiao Qiao’er snorted, “My real family is right here. As long as I can protect them, I care nothing for the rest.”

“That won’t do. One should have aspirations.”

“Why don’t we become bandits? I’ll do the robbing, you’ll come up with the plans. Sooner or later, every brother will marry, and every sister will have a handsome dowry.”

“I don’t want to talk to a bandit…”

After the sun set, the three old ghosts forbade anyone from soaking in the bath, claiming that once the yang energy faded and the yin energy entered the body, it would be harmful.

Tie Xinyuan didn’t quite understand. The light of the moon also came from the sun—what was the difference? Still, seeing the three old ghosts so angry, he obediently climbed out of the tub.

It seemed Yang Huaiyu had no intention of returning home. He found a shabby hut, dragged in a bamboo bed, laid out some bedding, and fell asleep. The three old ghosts sat at a battered table brewing tea, who knew until when.

The fox arrived, meaning Mother was already furious.

Slinging on his schoolbag, Tie Xinyuan bid farewell to Xiao Qiao’er and the others, and set off home. The fox ran ahead, urging him to hurry. Not eager to return, Tie Xinyuan grabbed a sesame flatbread from Old Niu’s bakery—his mother’s favorite, baked until crisp and dry. He brought her one every day.

“You smell of fresh grass. Have you been rolling in the fields?” Mother pulled him close, sniffing his hair, suspicious at how clean he was today.

“No. After practicing martial arts with Yang Dalang’s retainers, they made us bathe in herbal water. That’s why I smell of herbs, not grass. They say if you bathe in this all year, even mosquitoes won’t bother you.”

“Is it that good?” Wang Rouhua glanced at the mugwort burning in the room. “Bring some home tomorrow, let me try it. The mugwort stinks.”

Tie Xinyuan nodded. After laying out the meal his mother had prepared, he said, “Mother, you don’t need to save food for me anymore. I need to eat with Yang Dalang these days—his men say it’s good for building strength.”

Wang Rouhua only nodded and continued eating. That wasn’t like her. Normally, she’d be angry if he’d been away all day, but she just brushed it off and focused on her meal—strange behavior.

Tie Xinyuan suddenly noticed the ornate shoes peeking out from under her skirt. She rarely wore such decorative shoes now. Something was amiss. He looked at her hair ornaments. As he suspected: today she wore two hairpins, one with a peacock and pearls, the other a hollow silver ox horn, crossing in a lovely pattern. Her usual bronze pin was gone.

There was no powder on her face. Once she dressed up, she was quite beautiful. Though life had been hard these years, it hadn’t marked her features much. Clearly, she’d met someone today.

Tie Xinyuan had no doubt about his mother’s virtue. Even if there had been a man, he wouldn’t have minded. His father had been dead over six years. If that chastity plaque over the door needed burning for firewood, he’d do it without a second thought.

Since it wasn’t that, the only people she needed to dress up for were her own family—her mother’s side.

He’d studied the Wang family lately and didn’t think much of their future. He couldn’t understand why, just because the emperor wanted to give his own mother a proper title, the Wang family’s head made a fuss at the most important autumn festival, petitioning the emperor to revoke the tribute for his mother, claiming it was against propriety.

With such a foolish head of house, Tie Xinyuan thought it best to keep their distance. He didn’t plan to question his mother; she was never able to keep things to herself and would tell him everything soon enough.

As it turned out, her patience was even weaker than he thought.

“Your aunt came today.”

“Aunt? What did she want? Did she come to the shop?”

“No, we met at the nunnery. Her maid summoned me.”

Tie Xinyuan smiled, “Mother, if you don’t want to see them, don’t. Why not just meet in our shop?”

Wang Rouhua, seeing her son annoyed, quickly explained, “No, your aunt’s unwell and staying at the nunnery to recuperate.”

He took her hand. “Mother, you don’t need to worry about me. Wherever you go, I’ll go. Even if we don’t visit the Wang family, it’s fine. We live happily enough on our own.”

Suddenly, Wang Rouhua burst into tears and hugged him. “People are gossiping, saying your father and I eloped, and that under Great Song’s law, elopers can only be concubines…”

Tie Xinyuan shot to his feet. Having studied the laws of the Song dynasty, he knew exactly what that meant. If they labeled his mother a concubine, she’d lose all rights—including to acknowledge him as her son.

He smiled, wiped her tears, and said, “So someone wants our noodle shop? Well, only someone from the Tie family itself could take it. And, Mother, how did my aunt find out?”

“Your aunt heard it from her husband, who works at the yamen.”

Tie Xinyuan grinned, “Mother, don’t believe every rumor. None of it will happen. No one will disturb our peaceful life, I promise. I never lie.”

His words comforted Wang Rouhua. As he began to tell tales of his martial arts practice, she smiled through her tears, scolding him for being mischievous.

She didn’t notice, hidden in the lamp’s shadow, the cold light in her son’s large eyes.

On Tie Xinyuan’s suggestion, to avoid further trouble, Wang Rouhua decided to name Tie Fox as the new head of the family. She understood her marriage to Tie Aqiji wasn’t protected by Song law, so all her hopes rested with Tie Fox.

Led by the neighborhood headman, Tie Xinyuan entered an official office for the first time.

The Kaifeng County office was next to the prefecture, no less imposing for it. Eight bailiffs stood on either side of the hall, holding staves, shouting to maintain order. Cries, pleas, and sobs mingled inside; who knew what case was being tried. The fox buried its head in Wang Rouhua’s arms, terrified.

Tie Xinyuan pressed the fox’s damp black nose and laughed, “Fox, let’s see who dares to make trouble for us today. You can’t be so timid.”

PS: I humbly ask for your recommendation votes. I’ve fallen far behind. Please support and add to your favorites. Your humble author bows in thanks.