Chapter Twelve: Worn Out for Her Sake

Many prominent families chose officers of the Imperial Guards as their ideal sons-in-law.

Lu Song was valiant and striking, with a dignified bearing. Now an officer in the Imperial Guards, he foresaw limitless prospects for himself and looked down on his simple, rustic wife back in his hometown. Without even returning home, he sent a divorce letter, ending the marriage with little more than a stroke of a brush.

As a newly single bachelor, Lu Song once went to the armory to exchange his armor. There, he met the young and beautiful Sun Guiying, radiant and delicate, and was further captivated by her elegant handwriting. After collecting his armor and returning to camp, he found himself utterly bewitched, unable to eat or sleep. In just a few days, he had grown haggard for her sake, thin as a wilted chrysanthemum.

As his body withered, Sun Guiying remained oblivious. After some bitter soul-searching, he suddenly realized: fortune favors the bold, while the timid starve. From then on, he found excuses to visit the armory daily.

Heaven rewards the diligent; at last, he won Sun Guiying’s heart.

Not long after their marriage, Lu Hu was born. His grandmother, a farmer’s wife, hurried from their hometown to see her stout, healthy grandson. Forthright and plainspoken, she was so pleased with the baby that she talked endlessly and unwittingly revealed every detail of her son’s second marriage.

Sun Guiying was thunderstruck. An educated, proper maiden, she had been deceived by a rustic man with a past marriage. Tears streamed down her face.

“Worthless swindler! I’m done with you!” she cried.

Frightened, Lu Song knelt, kowtowed, swore oaths to the heavens, and begged her with all his might. He nearly bit his finger to write a blood oath, barely managing to keep from receiving a divorce letter himself.

From that day, Sun Guiying’s temperament changed drastically. Nothing at home pleased her anymore. Little Lu Hu was not spared either; innocent as he was, he became collateral damage.

Other babies, when they cried, were gathered into their mothers’ arms and soothed lovingly. But if little Lu Hu dared cry, Sun Guiying would grit her teeth and pinch or twist him, venting all her pent-up fury upon the child.

What could such a tiny child understand? The more she twisted, the more he cried; the more he cried, the harsher her grip. When his father or grandmother was around, there was some respite, but in their absence, he could only cry himself hoarse before falling into a fitful sleep.

Yet, with all his crying, he developed a powerful set of lungs.

Once aware of the world, Lu Hu grew distant from his mother. Each time he saw his younger brother nestle into their mother’s arms and act spoiled, he felt it was utterly inconceivable.

Even up until he entered the army, Sun Guiying remained cold and indifferent toward him. She never showed him kindness; any mistake made by his siblings was blamed on him, and he was met with beatings.

All her love was reserved for her youngest son, Lu Bao, whom she doted on excessively.

Despite a rich diet, Lu Bao was frequently sick—colds and fevers were his constant companions. In their family, a sick child meant eating eggs: steamed, fried, or boiled, Lu Bao ate eggs daily as a matter of course.

Lu Hu, meanwhile, grew so envious he wondered if he could somehow lay eggs himself.

He naively thought, “If all it takes is a cold to get eggs, why not catch one myself?” So, on a freezing night, he ran outside naked and shivered half the night. His lips turned blue, his nose ran, and he trembled uncontrollably, but despite his suffering, nothing came of it—no eggs for him.

When his brother was full, he would sometimes toss Lu Hu a bite as a reward.

How could two children born of the same mother be treated so differently?

Lu Hu often wondered if Sun Guiying was really his mother. Yet, doubts aside, he remained dutiful—respectful and obedient, eagerly doing all the chores, like a little servant.

After joining the army, whenever he returned home, he handed over all his saved wages to his mother, using only what he needed for himself.

This time was no different.

The two of them didn’t walk far before turning into the courier station. The station attendant had already driven the carriage inside and was sitting in the yard with a wine gourd, licking his finger before taking a sip—waiting for Lu Hu to collect his belongings from the cart.

This man was so poor he couldn’t afford vegetables, so he made do with wine and the tip of his finger.

When Lu Hu and his companion appeared, he stood up with a broad grin. “Sir, is your business finished? All your goods are in the cart—please check them.”

Lu Hu laughed heartily. “No need to check. I’ll just take them.”

The station man opened the carriage door, and Lu Hu retrieved two bolts of silk and a deerskin case. Opening the case, he took out several strings of copper coins and handed them over. “Brother, you’ve worked hard. Take this as a token of thanks—buy yourself some tea.”

Though the courier stations were government-run and the attendants received a small wage, their social standing was low. Normally, officials treated them like servants, never mind tipping them.

Lu Hu’s tip equaled half a month’s wages. The man was stunned, bowing deeply. “Thank you, sir! Such generosity—I am overwhelmed with gratitude!”

“It’s nothing. In the future, drink less wine and save your money for the family,” said Lu Hu, who had noticed the man’s constant drinking throughout their journey.

With such a strong thirst, in another world, this would be a clear case for a drunk-driving fine—enough to leave him in rags.

“Wine’s the spirit of grain—it makes you younger with each sip. I’m too used to it to stop now,” the attendant replied, scratching his head with a self-deprecating smile.

Lu Hu handed the silk to Yanalie. “Hold on to these. When we get home, give them to your mother-in-law as a meeting gift.”

Silk was as valuable as money in the Great Sheng. Such a generous present would surely win over her mother-in-law.

Yanalie nodded, hugging the silk to her chest as she and Lu Hu left the station, with him carrying the deerskin case.

“Let’s go check on your father first,” Yanalie said anxiously, concerned about her future father-in-law’s injuries.

“With a good doctor, he’ll be fine. He should be home by now. My father is reasonable, but the real challenge is passing my mother’s test,” Lu Hu replied.

“When we get to your house, how should I address your mother?” Yanalie was nervous, unsure what to do next.

“You silly thing, you’re my wife, so my mother is your mother-in-law. Don’t mix things up and address her the wrong way,” Lu Hu teased.

“Your mother is my mother, so your mother-in-law is my mother-in-law. I don’t get all these complicated titles. I’ll just call her whatever you do, all right?” Yanalie’s people didn’t have such convoluted forms of address, and all the twists and turns left her confused.

“Fine, whatever makes you happy. Call her however you like!” Lu Hu said with a mischievous smile, his words carrying a hidden meaning.

…

Not far off, a half-grown boy suddenly appeared, limping and running toward them, glancing nervously over his shoulder.

Lu Hu was about to ask him if he knew the way home when several more boys appeared, cursing and chasing after him. They caught up, knocked him to the ground, and began kicking and stomping him.

Bullies, picking on the weak.

Lu Hu was ready to intervene when he suddenly froze—the most vicious among the group looked eerily familiar, resembling his younger brother, Lu Bao.

While Lu Hu was still in doubt, Yanalie shoved the silk into his arms, rushed forward, and with a few blows knocked the bullies to the ground. She then helped up the battered boy.

This woman was fierce—like a warrior of legend, never losing her footing.

Lu Hu decided to stand aside and watch.

The first to scramble up was indeed Lu Bao, rubbing his neck and shaking his head—where Yanalie had struck him a moment ago. His face was full of defiance, a rebellious glint in his eyes as he stared challengingly at Yanalie, hesitating between advancing and retreating.

“Who the hell are you? Do you have any idea who I am? Are you looking for trouble?” Lu Bao snapped, brash and bristling.

Yanalie glanced at him, then turned to dust off the boy she’d rescued.

“What’s it to you? Mind your own business, unless you want to get hurt,” Lu Bao threatened. Seeing she was a handsome, armored officer, he grew bolder, his tone even more arrogant.

He bent to pick up a stone and menaced Yanalie. “Just because you’re a border soldier doesn’t mean you can act tough. Haven’t you heard who I am? Hand over anything valuable, and maybe I’ll let you go.”

Lu Hu could hardly believe his ears—was this really his clever, well-behaved brother? He looked like a petty thug, a little street ruffian.

If he dared extort a border guard, he’d have no qualms preying on ordinary folks. Left unchecked, he’d grow to be universally despised.

Lu Bao raised the stone, ready to hurl it at Yanalie.