Gu Zhizhuo held A-Man in her arms, lost in thought.
Going by the pulse, the blockage in A-Man’s heart meridian was severe. The best approach would be to use silver needles on the Heart Meridian and Pericardium Meridian to clear it—the trouble was that A-Man was afraid of needles.
For a moment, Gu Zhizhuo found herself at a loss.
She thought it over all night, and as soon as it was light the next morning, she had Qiongfang bring out the ledger from her small storeroom.
She remembered that when she was seven or eight, she used to have night terrors every evening, sometimes even convulsing, unable to sleep peacefully. Her maternal grandmother had sought out a dozen or so pieces of white jade of the finest water and had them sent to the capital.
Gu Zhizhuo flipped through the ledger. Nothing.
She made another trip to the small storeroom—still nothing. In the end, she found a palm-sized piece of uncut jade in a box on her dressing table, and had a craftsman outside turn it into jade tablets. Only two came of it.
White jade had the effect of calming the spirit and settling the mind—commonly said to ward off fright.
Gu Zhizhuo carved the talismans onto the tablets with her own hands.
Truth be told, her skill had grown rusty. The carving knife simply wouldn’t obey her hand, and it took her a full three days to carve the two tablets—one of them came out crooked.
Too ugly!
Gu Zhizhuo couldn’t bear to look at it, so she tossed it into her jewelry box and kept the one with the beautiful knifework for A-Man.
The little girl preened over it happily for a whole day, showing it off to the Old Madam one moment and gleefully bragging about it to her cousins the next. By the time she came back from her bragging, the tablet had gained a newly braided cord, strung with several jade beads.
Gu Zhizhuo was in and out, busy for several days.
The calming incense burned at all hours. Made with her own hands!
The jade tablet was worn every single day. Carved with her own hands!
Gu Zhizhuo had even used the leftover fragrances to make two sachets—one for A-Man to wear, one to place beneath her pillow.
Whatever she said went; Gu Liaoliao never interfered.
Seeing her change the incense recipe yet again, Gu Liaoliao remarked with great equanimity, “A-Man sleeps so much more comfortably now. She used to toss and turn in the middle of the night, breaking out in a sweat. These past few days, I’ve noticed she sleeps clear through till dawn.”
Gu Zhizhuo seized the chance to stir the pot. “Of course she does. Our A-Man is back in her own home now, no need to watch anyone else’s face—naturally she sleeps better.”
Gu Liaoliao took this thoroughly to heart.
The Lady of Jing’an looked at A-Man as though she were some kind of harbinger of doom, and Gu Liaoliao herself had never let go of her bitterness over that feng shui formation. Not only had she dismissed the wet nurse and nanny who had been tending A-Man at the time, she’d also kept A-Man confined to the courtyard to play, day after day. Nothing like now—in the whole Duke’s household, she could go wherever she pleased, and everyone adored her.
In the morning she ran wild through the whole garden; when the sun grew too strong at noon, A-Man would come back and lie against the windowsill watching birds. One particular bird, brilliantly multicolored, came every single day, hopping along the window eaves and preening its feathers.
Its tail bore long, trailing plumes, dazzling and smooth as silk.
Once done preening its feathers, it would peck at its little claws, grooming itself until it looked immaculate.
A-Man watched, transfixed.
Just then, a young maid in blue came in through the hanging-flower gate. The bird startled, flapped its wings, and flew into the canopy of the tree, its small body swallowed up by the dense branches and leaves.
A-Man pointed disappointedly in the direction the bird had flown, craning her neck to look this way and that. When she turned back, her small face had crumpled.
Her mouth moved, and from her throat there suddenly came a garbled sound: “Ah—ah!”
“Ah!”
Gu Liaoliao’s crimson lips parted, disbelieving. black lotus novel Translations · Black Lotus Novel
Wait—A-Man could make sounds!?
This past year, A-Man hadn’t just failed to speak—she’d had no laughter, no crying either. However sad or however happy she was, only her expression would show it, as though something were lodged in her throat, without a single sound. Every time Gu Liaoliao looked at her, it was as if her heart were being torn apart.
And now, she had truly heard her daughter’s voice again.
A voice she hadn’t heard in so long.
Tears spilled uncontrollably down her face. Gu Liaoliao covered her mouth with her hand, terrified of startling her daughter, then looked over at Gu Zhizhuo.
Gu Zhizhuo only smiled. “Slowly does it.”
If she used silver needles, along with a mind-calming talisman, Gu Zhizhuo was confident she could clear A-Man’s heart meridian in just seven days.
As things stood now, though, it would take half a month at the fastest.
Gu Liaoliao nodded hurriedly—yes, slowly does it, as long as there was even the faintest hope, what did it matter how long it took? At least there was light ahead now, not a bottomless, unseeable abyss.
Her heart pounding fiercely, Gu Liaoliao said, choked with emotion, “A-Man likes birds. Why don’t we go to the bird market and pick out a parrot?”
A-Man tilted her head, seeming to consider this seriously.
The maid in blue had come to stand beneath the corridor eaves and reported, “Eldest Young Miss, the Eldest Young Master has arrived.”
Ever since that last time, Gu Liaoliao had specifically instructed that no one from the Qin family—including Qin Su himself—was to be let in, no matter how many times he came calling. So this time, he was turned away as well.
“I won’t see him.”
Gu Liaoliao said only that, then went back to murmuring softly with her daughter. “Parrots are so pretty. Mother will take A-Man to pick one out herself…”
The maid bent her knees and went down to relay the message.
The word reached the gatehouse, and so Qin Su was left standing outside a closed door.
“…Eldest Young Master, please go back.”
The gatekeeper said this with all due courtesy, then shut the side gate, leaving Qin Su alone outside.
Qin Su stood there in silence, holding his horse’s reins.
He and A-Liao had met in the Southern Frontier. A-Liao, clad head to toe in red armor, longsword in hand, had charged into the enemy ranks like a man, valiant and dashing. From that moment on, she had been etched permanently into his heart.
He’d wanted to marry her.
He fought bravely, built up military merit, and within a single year rose to the rank of battalion commander. He led troops in an ambush against horse bandits, and when he brought back the bandit leader’s severed head, she finally noticed him.
Later, he won her hand.
He’d put his whole heart into her…
Qin Su closed his eyes.
All he wanted was a son—just one, was that too much to ask?! Why did A-Liao have to be so stubbornly fixated on this one matter?!
She ought to think of him too—without a son, what would become of the Marquis title? Everything he’d struggled and schemed his whole life to build up—who was it all supposed to go to!?
Vexed, he sat astride his horse without even pulling the reins, letting the animal carry him back to the residence.
The moment he stepped through the gate, a nanny hurried up to him, wiping her tears, and told him in a choked voice, “Young Master, Concubine Sun’s pregnancy has taken a bad turn—it’s not looking good!”
Qin Su startled and rushed straight to the main courtyard, not even waiting to be announced before flinging back the curtain and charging in. The Lady of Jing’an sat in her armchair, wiping her tears, weeping uncontrollably—so grief-stricken that Qin Su nearly thought the child had already been lost.
“Mother,” he asked anxiously, “how is Yaoniang?”
“So you do remember to worry over your cousin,” the Lady of Jing’an said, setting down her handkerchief, eyes red-rimmed. “The moment you get a day off, you go running out, your mind only on that wife of yours. With all this trouble in our household, these past few days you can’t even find a shadow of Madam Gu, and it’s been Yaoniang running herself ragged, and now look—her pregnancy’s taken a turn. The physician’s still in there!”
“If anything happens to my precious golden grandson, I won’t want to live either.” The Lady of Jing’an wept harder still. “At my age, to finally have a grandson on the way—tell me, what sin did our Qin family commit?”
“Marrying a wife who can’t bear a son is bad enough, but to be so consumed with jealousy on top of it. I’m telling you now, if Madam Gu doesn’t hand over the aged ginseng and doesn’t properly attend to Yaoniang through the birth, I will not agree to hand my little grandson over to her to raise!”
That wouldn’t do! Only a child raised from infancy would form a true bond—later on, this child would come to see A-Liao as his real mother too. Qin Su said soothingly, “Old Madam Gu isn’t feeling well…”
“Not feeling well?! Where was her not-feeling-well when she was cursing people out?!” The Lady of Jing’an grew angrier the more she spoke. “If you ask me, Madam Gu is simply jealous that Yaoniang can bear a son!”
“She’s married into our Qin family, and still she throws tantrums at the drop of a hat! That Gu family breeds nothing but shrews! The elder one’s one, and so’s the younger!”
A girl so wild and unruly—if it weren’t for the fact that Su’er said the Commander of the Jinwu Guard was about to be transferred, and he wanted to vie for that official post, needing the Duke Protector of the Nation’s household’s military connections, she would never have swallowed this insult.
Qin Su lifted the teacup from the side table and passed it to her—experience had taught him that staying silent was best at times like this.
If he so much as defended A-Liao with a single word, his mother could go on nagging for half an hour straight.
The Lady of Jing’an took a few sips of tea, then broke into sobs again. “What did I ever do to deserve such a bitter fate.”
Halfway through her crying, the physician emerged. The Lady of Jing’an didn’t even have time to set down her teacup before asking anxiously, “Physician, my daughter-in-law…”
“Mother!” Qin Su’s face darkened, cutting her off sharply.
Whatever Yaoniang was, she was still only a concubine! How could a concubine be called daughter-in-law? · BlackLotus Reading · Black Lotus Novel
The Lady of Jing’an took a sip of tea to cover the awkwardness of her slip.
Physician Wang, assuming his own ears had simply misheard, bowed his head and said, “My lady, the concubine is in no serious danger. A course of fetus-stabilizing medicine will suffice. It’s only that—” he paused, his expression turning grave, “—the fetus’s position is somewhat off. I fear the birth may be difficult.”
At the mention of a difficult birth, the Lady of Jing’an went pale with fright, gripping Nanny Ping’s hand tightly beside her.
Nanny Ping hurried to ask on her behalf, “Wasn’t it said just a few days ago that the fetus’s position was fine? How could it…”
“With the birth so near, some change in the fetus’s position is only to be expected. It’s just that the concubine’s constitution is too weak, and she’s been too burdened with worry—the pregnancy hasn’t been nourished well enough…” Physician Wang went on at length, but the gist of it was: the child might not be kept.
Qin Su’s breath caught.
A-Liao had always struggled to conceive. He had hoped, he had prayed, and he had been disappointed.
Now that Heaven had finally granted him a son, if he lost this one too, how could he bear it?
The Lady of Jing’an suddenly looked up. “That little mu— A-Man, wasn’t she having some stomach trouble a few days ago?”
Nanny Ping paused, silently counting back the days in her head.
The Young Master’s wife had left seven days ago—that was the day, it seemed, a physician had been called. She nodded and flattered, “My lady, your memory is truly excellent. That’s exactly right.”
“Then that settles it! Immortal Qingping said from the very start that our Qin family’s line of descendants had been struck by an inauspicious star, that our bloodline would struggle to continue.” The Lady of Jing’an suddenly saw it all clearly, slapping the table again and again. “Seven days ago, Yaoniang’s pregnancy was still perfectly fine, and then this little mute fell ill—no sooner did she recover than Yaoniang’s fetus turned the wrong way and now faces a difficult birth. My golden grandson must have been used by this little mute to block off her own illness onto him!”
“I said all along this little mute was inauspicious—she must be the inauspicious star!”
Her voice had risen to a shrill pitch with her agitation.
Ever since Yaoniang had fallen pregnant, she’d never once felt well—and it was all because this little mute had brought her ill fortune!
The Lady of Jing’an’s blood surged. She sat in her armchair, her body rocking back and forth, and a darkness swept again and again before her eyes.
