Chapter 5

Zhao Yanping said he had never particularly paid attention to Scholar Zhu’s niece, and Old Madam Zhao believed him.

If her grandson might already have an interest in pretty young men, why would he take notice of a beautiful woman?

Old Madam Zhao had only intended to plant a seed in his mind, reminding him that there was a stunning woman next door who had once entered a brothel. She then began to mutter to herself, “That girl has had such a bitter fate. She finally escaped from that kind of place, only to end up with a shameless and sharp-tongued aunt who finds every excuse to torment her. And now, today, she was falsely accused of seducing her cousin—her aunt shouted so loudly that the entire street must have heard it.”

Zhao Yanping drank his tea, his expression and demeanor unchanged, just as when he usually listened to his grandmother gossip.

“You’ve seen Zhu Shiyu before. He doesn’t even reach your shoulder, as skinny as a monkey. Even Cui Niang looks down on him—who would ever seduce him? I heard people say that Scholar Zhu’s niece is as beautiful as a goddess. Most likely, Zhu Shiyu was the one who harbored lustful thoughts and tried to take advantage of her. But when she resisted and exposed him, he turned around and framed her instead. Poor girl… Having once been in that kind of place, even if she is truly virtuous, people will never believe her.”

Zhao Yanping finished his tea, set the empty bowl on the table, and looked out toward the courtyard. “Is the food ready? Let’s eat.”

Old Madam Zhao went to check the kitchen.

Tonight, Cui Niang had made a few pancakes and a pot of rice porridge. Both were ready, and the peanuts in the pan only needed a few more stirs before they could be served.

When Cui Niang saw Old Madam Zhao, she hurried her movements, afraid of being scolded.

But Old Madam Zhao was in a good mood, simply urging her to hurry before leaving the kitchen.

After dinner, Old Madam Zhao retired to the west room to sleep, while Zhao Yanping stayed in the east room, which was adjacent to the Zhu family’s home.

Perhaps because the bailiffs had dragged him off for a few drinks before he came home, Zhao Yanping was woken in the middle of the night by the pressure in his bladder.

Though autumn had just begun, it wasn’t cold enough yet to justify bringing a chamber pot indoors. Left with no choice, Zhao Yanping threw on a middle robe, quietly got out of bed, and slipped outside to the latrine.

After relieving himself, he tilted his head back and gazed at the night sky. It was the sixth day of the eighth month; the moon was a thin crescent, and the stars scattered chaotically across the sky. People said that the dead would turn into stars, but with so many stars, how could anyone possibly find their loved ones?

Not that he was looking—he didn’t want his sister to become a star. He wanted her to still be alive, no matter how hard life was. As long as she lived, there would still be hope.

After a moment of silent contemplation, Zhao Yanping prepared to return to his room.

Just then, a faint noise came from the Zhu family’s side—it sounded like someone opening their courtyard gate.

A thief? Or…?

His instincts as an official kicked in, and Zhao Yanping’s expression grew serious. He climbed onto the low wall where their family raised chickens and slowly straightened up. As his gaze crossed over the top of the wall, he spotted a slender figure stepping out of the Zhu household.

Under the dim moonlight, he quickly recognized her—it was A-Jiao, the very girl his grandmother had just spoken about earlier that evening.

In the dead of night, with the city gates already closed, where could a weak and helpless woman possibly be going?

===

Qinghe River was only one street away from the Zhu household. A-Jiao soon reached the riverbank.

The river had both shallow and deep areas. A-Jiao walked along the shore, step by step, toward the deeper waters.

The night breeze was chilly, but it could never be colder than her heart.

Today was the sixth day of the eighth month—it was also her birthday.

Her uncle had wanted to celebrate and had told her aunt in the morning to buy two pounds of meat from the butcher and a fat fish from the fisherman so they could have a proper meal that night. A-Jiao didn’t need such a grand affair, but her uncle had insisted. Her aunt, already displeased, delayed as much as possible. It wasn’t until dusk, when she could no longer stall, that she finally took her daughter out shopping, leaving A-Jiao to tend the fire and prepare the meal.

While A-Jiao was in the kitchen, her cousin Zhu Shiyu, who usually kept his head buried in his books, suddenly appeared. He pulled out a silk handkerchief, saying it was a birthday gift for her.

A-Jiao had long noticed the way her cousin looked at her. But she had no interest in him, and besides, her aunt would never allow such an entanglement. Faced with his gift, A-Jiao had only one choice—refusal.

Yet her cousin insisted. When she wouldn’t take it, he tried to shove it into her hands. Sensing something was wrong, A-Jiao turned to leave, but suddenly, he grabbed her by the waist and pressed her against the kitchen door, attempting to violate her.

Only then did A-Jiao realize, in terror, that even though her cousin was roughly the same height as her, his strength far surpassed hers. When he pinned her down, she couldn’t break free!

But the revulsion was overwhelming. With sheer desperation, she shoved him away.

She ran out of the kitchen and bumped into her uncle, who had returned home earlier than expected.

She didn’t even need to explain—her uncle took one look and knew exactly what had happened. Fury erupted in him, and he grabbed Zhu Shiyu, landing a brutal slap across his face. The impact swelled her cousin’s cheek instantly.

Then her aunt came home, carrying the meat her husband had asked for. Seeing what had happened, she immediately rushed to defend her son. And in order to protect him, she had accused A-Jiao instead—claimed that A-Jiao was the one who had seduced him.

A-Jiao knew that her uncle believed her. But her aunt had shouted so loudly that the entire neighborhood had heard. Would anyone else believe her?

Her reputation was already bad enough. Now, she had been branded a woman who seduced her own cousin. How could she ever face people again?

Staying in her uncle’s house was unbearable. Her aunt and cousin treated her with disdain, her uncle was caught between them, unable to smile, and her cousin—despite his bookish, feeble appearance—had harbored such vile thoughts toward her.

A-Jiao saw no hope in any direction.

She stopped at the riverbank, where the water was deep. It was said that children who had played recklessly had drowned here before.

A crooked old pagoda tree stood by the shore, its thick branches blocking the moonlight and casting eerie shadows over the water. The surface of the river looked dark and bottomless, as if something sinister lurked beneath.

One glance was enough to make A-Jiao recoil.

She was a coward. She had always been a coward.

When her aunt had sold her to a brothel, there had been other new girls—some were young, innocent children, barely seven or eight, while others were older girls, desperate enough to try and end their own lives.

A-Jiao had watched them carefully. The obedient young girls got food to eat. The defiant older ones not only went hungry but were also beaten.

She had made her choice instantly.

Her compliance had pleased the brothel’s madam, who would often lift A-Jiao’s chin and admire her, praising her as a rare gem. With the madam’s favor, no one in the brothel dared to mistreat her. She had never suffered the kinds of humiliations that others spoke of.

Thinking of the madam, A-Jiao remembered the day she had left Huayue Brothel.

That day had been the most dangerous of her life.

Countless courtesans had been ruined by those beastly bailiffs.

But she had been lucky—she had encountered Officer Zhao.

Lucky…

A-Jiao suddenly laughed. Tilting her head back, she gazed through the dense branches and caught sight of the sliver of a crescent moon hanging in the sky.

The wind was cool, the moonlight was cool, but A-Jiao’s heart, little by little, began to warm.

Her uncle had said that if she survived a great calamity, fortune would surely follow. Her aunt had made snide remarks about her “good luck.” Even the washerwomen by the river who loved to gossip about her had all said the same—that she was lucky to have escaped the den of wolves that was Huayue Brothel.

Just for those two words—”good luck”—A-Jiao no longer wanted to die.

Why should she?

Before her parents passed away, they entrusted all their savings to her uncle and aunt. Though it wasn’t much, it was more than enough to support her. Staying in her uncle’s house, she had never been a freeloader. More than that, her aunt had already sold her once. Without her, her cousin would have died long ago—where would he have found the strength to bully her? Why should she suffer so much, only to be driven to death by those who had already taken so much from her?

She was going to live. She was going to live well.

She had done nothing wrong—the ones who should feel ashamed were her aunt and cousin!

Wiping away her tears, A-Jiao turned resolutely and retraced her steps home.

From start to finish, she never noticed the silent figure following behind her.

======

The next morning, A-Jiao faced the four members of the Zhu family as if nothing had happened. Her expression was calm, but she no longer got up early to help clean the courtyard, nor did she, after meals, take the initiative to clear the dishes as she once had.

Everyone could see it—she was silently resisting.

Zhu Shiyu kept his head lowered even further, retreating early to his room and shutting the door to bury himself in his books.

Jin Shi, too, felt guilty. Her shouting the night before had only been to save face for her son, to pin the blame on A-Jiao no matter what. If A-Jiao had cried and pleaded, she could have continued lording over her. But now, with A-Jiao acting as if they had wronged her, Jin Shi didn’t dare order her around—if she did, Zhu Chang would be the first to scold her.

“Shuangshuang, clear the table,” Jin Shi said, preparing to go feed the pigs as she turned to her daughter.

Zhu Shuangshuang pouted, glancing at A-Jiao, who was already heading toward the east wing. “Why should I? Wasn’t it always Cousin who cleaned up?”

Before Jin Shi could respond, Zhu Chang scowled and rebuked his daughter in a low voice, “Shut your mouth. From now on, all the housework is yours. If you don’t want to do it, go complain to your mother.”

Though he reprimanded her, Zhu Chang deliberately kept his voice down—he didn’t want his niece to hear and feel even worse.

After scolding his thoughtless daughter, Zhu Chang headed to the east wing, lifting the curtain to see his niece sitting by the window, preparing to embroider.

“Uncle,” A-Jiao stood up and gave him a gentle smile.

Zhu Chang felt a pang of sorrow. Lowering his head, he sighed and said apologetically, “A child’s misdeeds are the father’s failure. It’s my fault for not teaching your cousin properly, for letting him be blinded by his own lust and commit such disgraceful acts. But I’ve already reprimanded him. He swore on his future as a scholar that he would never bother you again. Jiao Jiao, don’t be afraid. You can stay here in peace. I promised your mother I’d take care of you, and I won’t go back on my word.”

A-Jiao tugged at her sleeve, lowered her eyes, and nodded slightly.

Zhu Chang waited for a long time but received only this one response. Realizing she was still upset, he sighed helplessly and backed away. “I’ll be off to the academy, then. I’ll talk to you when I return.”

A-Jiao murmured an acknowledgment.

As Zhu Chang left, he passed by the window and glanced inside. He saw his niece, head lowered, focusing intently on her embroidery.

======

Mid-Autumn Festival was approaching. The academy gave the students a five-day break, and Zhu Chang was set to take Jin Shi and the children to her family’s home for the celebrations.

Early on the morning of the fourteenth of August, Zhu Chang secretly slipped A-Jiao a small silver ingot, urging her to go out and stroll through the streets, to buy herself some hairpins or jewelry if she pleased.

“Don’t keep yourself cooped up all day. Go out and get some fresh air,” he said with concern.

A-Jiao accepted the silver and replied softly, “Thank you, Uncle. I will. You should head out now—you don’t want Aunt to grow impatient.”

She had barely finished speaking when Jin Shi’s irritable voice rang out from outside the gate. “What time do you think it is? Are you coming or not?”

Zhu Chang frowned and gave one last glance at his obedient, sensible niece before stepping out to join his wife and children. The moment he saw Jin Shi, an argument ensued.

The four of them boarded the donkey cart, and after they departed, A-Jiao shut the front door and returned to her room to continue embroidering.

Next door, Cui Niang rushed inside, her eyes bright as she called out to Old Madam Zhao, “Madam, the scholar’s family has left! Their cart has already turned out of the alley!”

Old Madam Zhao was stitching a shoe sole for her grandson. Hearing this, she simply responded with a faint “Mm,” acknowledging the news without looking up.

Cui Niang was dumbfounded. She waited for a while, but when the old lady continued her work without any change in expression, she couldn’t help but ask, “Madam, aren’t you going to see Sister A-Jiao?” These past few days, the old lady had been constantly asking about A-Jiao’s beauty and had even ordered her to keep an eye on when the scholar’s family would leave for the festival. Cui Niang had assumed she was planning to visit A-Jiao while Jin Shi was away.

Old Madam Zhao stitched a few more times before finally lifting her head slightly to cast Cui Niang a look of disdain. “And let me ask you this—if I go over the moment they leave, won’t that make it obvious that I came just to see her?”

Cui Niang bit her lip, muttering under her breath, “But that’s exactly what you’re doing…”

Old Madam Zhao couldn’t be bothered to explain to the silly girl. She continued working on the shoe sole, and only when she had finished a whole pair—just in time for lunch—did she finally stand up, stretch her back, and order Cui Niang, “Go get me a large bowl from the kitchen.”

Cui Niang blinked. “What do you need a bowl for?”

Old Madam Zhao’s lips curled into a sly smile. “To borrow some rice from your Sister A-Jiao.”

——

Author’s note:

Jin Shi: You old crone! How dare you take advantage of my absence to steal my rice?!

Old Madam Zhao: Great, another fool!