Chapter 51: 050 Why Don

Autumn of the fifth year of Chongzhen.

Jiangxi's drought from two years ago seemed to have eased, though the bandits in the mountains had yet to be wiped out.

Goose Lake Town, with merchants and travelers threading like woven cloth, was as bustling as ever.

Fei Yinghuan had already bid farewell to his parents and brothers at home, but his wife and children saw him all the way to the dock.

Wei Jianxiong, an iron rod slung across his back, stood silently at the young master's side.

With parting imminent, Fei Yinghuan looked at his daughter, now seventeen, and instructed his wife: "You must pay close attention to Rulan's marriage. No need to match social rank — as long as his character is upright, that will do. Pay no heed to others' gossip."

Madam Lou sighed: "I fear the old master will not agree."

"Ignore him. Once the rice is cooked, he'll have to accept it whether he likes it or not!" Fei Yinghuan still spoke so freely.

"Father, don't talk nonsense — what 'rice is cooked'…"

Fei Rulan flushed a little, and a touch of grievance crept in: "This concerns the Fei family's reputation. I'd rather not marry at all than let the neighbors laugh at us."

"Nonsense!" Fei Yinghuan scolded at once. "You're in the bloom of youth — are you to live as a widow your whole life? Even after I take up my post, I'll keep an eye out for promising young talents. I must find you a good husband!"

Fei Rulan's betrothed had died. The plan had been to return home and complete the marriage as soon as his term ended, but last year he fell under the blades of peasant soldiers.

Fei Yinghuan had never agreed to this match; it had been forced through by the old master of the Fei family.

Hearing her father's words, Fei Rulan felt her heart stir. She could only hope to marry a good man and leave this suffocating Yanshan far behind.

Having finished with his daughter's affairs, Fei Yinghuan turned to his son.

Fei Ruhe was already fifteen, tall and broad-shouldered. He no longer looked quite so fat, but still cut an imposing figure.

"You…" Fei Yinghuan had a thousand words in his heart, but in the end they turned into a sigh. "Just focus on your martial training. Later, I'll buy you a military post."

Since the Tartars broke through the passes, the treasury had been so strained that purchasing offices had become legal.

The court now permitted buying official rank with silver, but generally one got a rank without a post — just an official status. To get an actual substantive appointment, one still had to work other channels.

"Really?" Fei Ruhe was overjoyed. "Father, I truly don't have to study anymore?"

Fei Yinghuan said with a stern face: "You must still keep up your studies. Even to sit for the military juren examination, your essays have to be passable!"

"Oh." Fei Ruhe lowered his head unhappily.

Fei Yinghuan then stroked his younger daughter's head and said gently: "Rumei, while Father is away, you must listen to Mother. Do you understand?"

"Mm, I understand." Fei Rumei nodded firmly.

Fei Yinghuan turned to Zhao Han: "With all my urging, you've finally passed the child student exam. Truly won't try for the xiucai?"

"I'll give it a try, then," Zhao Han answered with a smile. Anyway, he'd just take the exam when the time came — pass if he could, forget it if he couldn't.

Finally, Fei Yinghuan said to his wife: "What needed saying, we said last night. Manage the household well at home. Once I'm settled at my post, I'll send someone to bring you over."

"Take care." Madam Lou wiped her tears.

Fei Yinghuan turned and boarded the boat. Wei Jianxiong hurried after him.

Fei Yinghuan and Hu Mengtai had both failed the examinations again last year. Zhan Zhaoheng, by contrast — who had been an adjunct student at the Pearl-Containing Academy — was only eighteen and passed the jinshi in one stroke!

Some people you just can't compare yourself to.

After failing, Fei Yinghuan did not return home immediately, but traveled to the Jiangsu-Zhejiang region in search of texts.

Visiting the library towers of great old families far and wide, Fei Yinghuan not only gathered the essays he sought, but also selected over thirty additional pieces himself, compiling them into A Selection of Ancient Prose, which he had printed in Jiangnan.

The A Selection of Ancient Prose compiled by Fei Yinghuan contained one hundred and forty-seven ancient prose pieces from successive dynasties.

Unfortunately, he published it at his own expense and lacked any reputation. He lost his shirt on it — barely anyone bought a copy.

Then his fortunes turned. Qian Qianyi, living at home after being dismissed from office, obtained the book through a friend. Instantly feeling a kindred spirit, he took the initiative to befriend Fei Yinghuan. He also introduced Fei Yinghuan to influential figures, and for just five thousand taels of silver, Fei secured a substantive appointment as County Magistrate of Suqian.

This was a lucrative post. Suqian sat astride a vital north-south trade route, and buying a county magistracy there normally required no less than ten thousand taels!

In other words, the list of ancient prose titles Zhao Han had provided saved Fei Yinghuan at least five thousand taels, and also helped him open connections within the Donglin Faction.

For this alone, Fei Yinghuan's regard for Zhao Han grew all the greater.

…

Watching the passenger boat sail into the distance, Fei Ruhe felt utterly at ease. He chuckled and said, "He's finally gone."

"What did you say?" Madam Lou glared at him, frowning.

Fei Ruhe hastily corrected himself: "Your son cannot bear to see Father leave."

"Home!"

Madam Lou very much wanted to give her son a beating.

Fei Ruhe did not take the sedan chair again, but walked shoulder to shoulder with Zhao Han. He asked in a low voice: "That Legend of the Eagle-Shooting Hero of yours — still not finished?"

"Almost done," Zhao Han said.

Fei Ruhe scratched his head and ears in agitation: "You've been writing it for three years, and I've been reading it for three years. Now it's nearly finished, and you keep dragging it out — it's truly driving me mad!"

"Exactly," Fei Chun suddenly popped up. "Did Guo Jing and Huang Rong get married or not? I'm still waiting to see. Brother, just finish it quickly."

Zhao Han laughed: "It's a matter of these next few days."

Apart from borrowing the broad plot outline, The Legend of the Eagle-Shooting Hero had practically been rewritten from scratch.

The great orthodox sects in it all had a sordid side, and the Beggars' Sect in particular was portrayed as deeply sinister.

The character Hong Qigong especially even seemed to allude to the Wanli Emperor — both hid themselves away ignoring affairs of state (or sect business), cared only for their own pleasures, and let their underlings play at factional strife (the Dirty Clothes and Clean Clothes factions).

As for Taihu's Lu Family Manor, Zhao Han simply depicted it as a water-bandit den, with Lu Chengfeng as a brutal water-bandit chief.

You could understand it as a dark version of The Legend of the Eagle-Shooting Hero, with a certain flavor of Water Margin.

In the end, Guo Jing achieved a great awakening and grasped the true meaning of "the greatest hero serves his country and his people." He gave away all his wealth to raise a righteous army, only to be betrayed by the court and nearly die in an ambush. Finally, utterly disillusioned, he chose to live in seclusion with Huang Rong on Peach Blossom Island.

Fei Ruhe and Fei Chun pressed for details of the ending, but Zhao Han only smiled and said nothing, walking all the way back to the Fei family mansion.

As soon as they entered the Loyal Diligence Courtyard, servants called out repeatedly: "Greetings, Brother Han. Greetings, Brother Chun."

Zhao Han smiled and returned the greetings all the way, while Fei Chun accepted them as his due.

Madam Ling came out at the news and said with overflowing warmth: "Aiyo, Brother Han is back. Quick, come inside and have some tea."

Zhao Han smiled faintly. "No need. Thank you for your generous hospitality."

Madam Ling added, "Chun'er, why haven't you invited Brother Han inside to sit?"

"Brother, come in, have a cup of tea at my place," Fei Chun said hastily.

"I'm going back to my room to write my novel," Zhao Han declined politely.

When you are down on your luck, the whole world is full of villains.

When you are riding high, everyone under heaven is a good person.

Fawning on the powerful, trampling the lowly — that is all it is.

With Zhao Han winning the eldest young master's favor, and Zhao Zhenfang becoming a maid in the inner courtyard, the siblings' status rose sharply.

The haughty Madam Ling, who had originally harbored ill will toward Zhao Han, now had a completely changed attitude. Every time Zhao Han returned to the Fei residence at Goose Lake, Madam Ling greeted him with a smiling face and went out of her way to curry favor, whether there was reason or not.

Back in his room, Zhao Han continued writing his novel. He had reached the part where the righteous army Guo Jing had built was betrayed by treacherous ministers and fell into an ambush.

Drawing on the story of the relief expedition in the second year of Chongzhen, the righteous army under Guo Jing was shifted to three different defensive posts in three days without receiving a single grain of military rations...

Before he could finish a single chapter, Fei Ruhe sent Fei Chun over to urge him on, repeatedly, several times over.

The next day, Madam Lou went back to her maiden home to visit her family.

In truth, she was entrusting her maiden family with the task of finding a match for her eldest daughter.

It was truly difficult to marry her off. Fei Rulan was already seventeen, and what was more, her betrothed had died. No proper, respectable family would be willing.

No sooner had Madam Lou departed than Fei Rulan was summoned by the old master of the Fei family.

She arrived at the main hall.

Fei Rulan knelt and kowtowed. "Your granddaughter pays respects to Grandfather. Your granddaughter pays respects to Grandmother."

The old madam seemed to carry guilt in her heart. She kept her eyes shut and said nothing, only fiddling with the prayer beads in her hand, her lips murmuring sutras in a low voice the whole time.

The old master, Fei Yuanyi, was nearing seventy. His face was expressionless as he said, "Get up."

Fei Rulan stood up straight. "May I ask what instructions Grandfather and Grandmother have for your granddaughter?"

Fei Yuanyi approached the matter circuitously. "That husband of yours — it has been a year and two months since he passed, has it not?"

"Yes," Fei Rulan answered.

Fei Yuanyi continued, "In the three months since your father returned, he has been searching for another family for you. I know he dotes on his daughter, but we must also consider the Fei family's reputation. Since the eight characters were exchanged and the wedding date was set, you are already counted as a member of the husband's family. With your husband dead, what sort of decorum is it to keep living in your maiden home?"

Fei Rulan's face went pale. She bit her lip and said, "Your granddaughter went to that household. Both father- and mother-in-law told me to come back, and told me to find another husband and marry."

"That is your in-laws being righteous and kind, unable to bear seeing you widowed so young," Fei Yuanyi said. "But I, of the illustrious Fei clan of Goose Lake — a married-off daughter living on and on in her maiden home, what sort of decorum is that!"

Fei Rulan understood perfectly now. But she did not want to die. Tears streaming down, she said, "Your granddaughter will find a Daoist nunnery at once, put up my hair, and become a nun."

"Preposterous!"

Fei Yuanyi flew into a rage. He stood up, leaning on his cane. "No daughter of the Fei clan has ever become a nun. That would utterly disgrace the family name!"

Fei Rulan looked toward the old madam. "Does Grandmother also bid your granddaughter to die?"

The old madam shrank back, her eyes tightly shut, and chanted rapidly, "Namo Amitabha, Namo Amitabha..."

"Your granddaughter takes her leave." Fei Rulan smiled through her tears.

If she had married over and then been widowed, that would be the husband's family's affair. Whether she died a martyr or not would have nothing to do with the Fei clan.

But with her betrothed dead and the husband's family refusing to take her in, it became the Fei family's problem!

If she could be quickly remarried, that would be fine. But if she remained unmarried, she would have to live out her days as a perpetual widow in her maiden home. She would certainly be ridiculed. The local villagers and kinsmen would gossip: "Look at that eldest daughter of the Fei family. Her husband died and she doesn't even serve her in-laws filially, just stays on at her maiden home waiting to remarry. She hasn't a shred of proper upbringing — what does she know of chastity? She's nothing but a lovesick slut!"

Seeing his granddaughter about to step out the door, Fei Yuanyi said in a deep voice, "You know what you must do. Do not bring shame upon our ancestors!"

Fei Rulan's figure froze. Her steps faltered, and tears fell like rain.

All the way back to her own room, her maid Xiyue saw how terrible she looked and could not help asking, "Miss, has your monthly cycle come? I'll have someone make brown sugar ginger soup."

"No need." Fei Rulan sat down in a daze.

Xiyue dared not ask further and simply stood to the side, awaiting orders.

After who knows how long, Fei Rulan secretly wiped her tears dry and said to the maid, "Go and fetch a bowl of brown sugar ginger soup."

"Oh." Xiyue trotted out.

Fei Rulan rose and opened her wardrobe, taking out a length of silk damask she had intended to use for making clothes.

After several attempts, the red damask finally went over the roof beam. She tied it fast into a dead knot.

Fei Rulan placed her neck into the noose, her heart filled with utter terror. She hesitated again and again, and at last kicked over the stool.

Xiyue had told an old serving woman to boil the brown sugar ginger soup, but on the way she ran into a maid from the inner courtyard and idled away some time chatting. She sauntered slowly back, and suddenly saw a person hanging in the room. Terrified, she rushed in and grabbed hold of her.

"Cough, cough, cough!"

Fei Rulan coughed violently. She had been a hair's breadth from suffocating.

Xiyue held Fei Rulan tightly, not daring to let go, and shrieked in terror, "Someone, come! The young miss is trying to take her own life! Someone, come..."

(End of Chapter)