Chapter 12: The Second Branch

Madam Han was startled by Han Ruoyu’s stern reprimand, finally realizing her behavior was indeed improper. Yet, what was done was done, and with so many people watching, she couldn't take back her words; her pride demanded some restitution. Straightening her back, she spoke stiffly, “Master, your words are unjust. Everyone knows how the old lady came to hear about this. As for me, I’ve been your wife all these years, working hard without complaint, yet now I suffer baseless grievances. Today, I truly must ask Mother to judge the matter!”

Han Ruoyu always picked the softest target, deftly shifting the topic, but he hadn’t expected Madam Hong to stand up to him today, showing her displeasure. He glanced at the old lady, who, soothed by Liu Chuyan, seemed calm in spirit but her face was still dark and severe, her gaze fixed upon him, making his scalp tingle.

After recovering, Madam Han remained silent, neither speaking nor stopping the unruly behavior of Madam Han, waiting to see how he would attempt to justify himself.

Unable to withstand the pressure, Han Ruoyu lowered his voice, pleading, “Mother, your son has just returned from outside, bearing merit and reward. Please forgive me this once.”

Seeing he had no remorse and only wished to smooth things over, Madam Han thought—was she so easily dealt with?

Han Ruoyu, sensing he had erred again, bowed deeply, “Mother, your son admits his fault.”

“You, do you truly know your fault?” Madam Han tapped her knuckles on the chair back, each knock longer than the last, her words measured and stern.

“I know, I know,” Han Ruoyu saw hope, answering repeatedly.

“Will you correct it?”

“I will! I will! Absolutely!”

“How will you correct it?” Madam Han withdrew her hand, leaning back, observing the cold sweat pouring from him. Why hadn’t he thought of this moment before acting? Truly, she had raised a useless son.

“This…” Han Ruoyu was troubled. To correct it meant sending those two women away, but he couldn’t bear to do it—especially since Luzhi was pregnant, carrying his own flesh and blood. Luzhi was beautiful and clever; surely their child would be lovely and bright, unlike the dull offspring born to his wife and Madam Hong.

“Cannot correct it, can you?” Madam Han stretched the last syllable, her gaze shifting to the cane.

“No, no, no…” Han Ruoyu remembered the beatings of his youth, his heart pounding, hastily denying it.

“Then how will you correct it?” Madam Han returned her gaze, biting her teeth hard.

“Mother, your son can send Rushi away.”

“And the other woman?”

Forced to relinquish one, Han Ruoyu could not let go of the other, stammering.

“Or perhaps you wish to bring the other into the household?”

“Mother, mother…” Han Ruoyu looked up nervously, “Mother, Luzhi is already carrying Han family blood.”

A sudden snap—the beads on Madam Han’s wrist broke, the prayer beads scattering across the floor. The same words, spoken from different mouths, carried a different weight. Though Madam Zhao had struck her hard, and she had fainted in disgrace, she still clung to a sliver of hope—it might have been a misunderstanding, or mere nonsense. But with Han Ruoyu himself confirming it, could there be any doubt? This was a calamity of epic proportions! Fortunately, she had heard it once already and managed to endure, though the commotion was still considerable.

Han Ruoyu glanced at her, blaming her for her overreaction, but quickly withdrew his gaze, looking sheepishly at the old lady. “Mother, this is your grandson, the blood of Han family.”

Madam Han’s brows knotted tightly; she rose abruptly. “Say that again!”

Han Ruoyu hurriedly fell silent, lowering his head.

Madam Han, grumbling, took two steps, grasped the cane, and pointed it at Han Ruoyu’s nose. “Tell me, how will you deal with those two women?”

“Mother, mother, mother!” Han Ruoyu, unable to withstand the fright, went weak in the knees and knelt down, reminding her with every cry that he was her son—she mustn’t be too harsh.

Madam Han saw through his ploys. Though the pain inflicted on her son hurt her own heart, this worthless child would never learn without discipline. From childhood, he had only grown under strict correction; without it, he’d have become a street ruffian. Just as in this recent campaign against bandits—he’d been too idle, capable of anything! If she didn’t properly teach him today, one day he’d bring ruin upon the entire household of Marquis Wukang.

“Mother!” As she pondered, Madam Han had already tapped the cane on his shoulder. Han Ruoyu crawled closer, crying out, “Mother, I am your son! How could you…”

“Lingcong, it’s not that I don’t love you, but you are too thoughtless.” Madam Han’s frustration was deep; though her heart ached, her hand was heavy, and in just a few strikes, Han Ruoyu’s back was torn.

“Mother—mother—it hurts, it hurts!” Han Ruoyu couldn’t dodge, the pain searing to his bones, making him cry out without regard for dignity.

Madam Han refused to stop. “Tell me, how old are you now? Look at yourself—your son is twenty, you’re married, and yet you still don’t act responsibly?”

“You are forty-two, not twenty-four! After all you’ve done, you show no repentance!”

“With such lack of ambition, are you trying to drive me to my grave?”

“Your actions would not let your father rest in peace!”

“You’ve disgraced the entire Marquis Wukang household; when I die, I’ll have no face to meet our ancestors!”

The more she scolded, the more aggrieved she became, and her strikes grew weaker, tears streaming down her face. Han Ruoyu’s guilt deepened; he grasped her wrist, “Mother, mother, your son knows his fault. Scold me as you wish, but don’t curse yourself!”

“I truly will be driven to death by you…” Madam Han, exhausted and unable to strike further, stood trembling, her vision blurring.

“Cousin Aunt!” Liu Chuyan saw Madam Han collapsing backward and rushed forward to catch her before she fell.

The two Madams, who had been watching, finally reacted at Liu Chuyan’s scream, quickly calling servants to carry the fainted old lady back to Qingxin Residence.

Han Ruoyu, realizing he had once again angered Madam Han into unconsciousness, was filled with regret and frustration, slapping himself twice.

“Brother, don’t blame yourself, just send for the doctor quickly.” Han Ruogu, just returned from outside, saw the scene and rushed to help Han Ruoyu up, urging him.

“Second Brother, why have you returned? Wasn’t the Emperor sending you to…”

“Brother, let’s not talk about that. I heard you had returned and feared you would upset Mother, so I hurried back. Yet I still arrived too late—Mother was angered by you again.” Han Ruogu sighed, seeing his brother’s sorry state, and ordered servants to take him back to the east wing. “Brother, tidy yourself up first. I’ll speak to Mother.”

“You’re always so considerate, Second Brother. Please, do your best to persuade her for me.” Han Ruoyu patted his shoulder and turned away.

“I will, don’t worry, Brother.” Watching him leave, Han Ruogu snorted in disdain, brushing his hands and shoulders. “Such a man as this could be Marquis Wukang? Truly laughable. But since he can’t inherit in the next generation, let him sit in that seat for now. I only need to…”

“Second Master, the doctor has arrived.” Someone brought the physician in and reported urgently.

“Good, take the doctor to Qingxin Residence.” Han Ruogu gave instructions and returned to his own quarters.

Qingxin Residence was in chaos; only after the doctor arrived did things settle. Fortunately, Madam Han had only fainted from anger and blood rushing to her head, and soon regained consciousness. The doctor prescribed some simple medicine and left after a few instructions.

“Cousin Aunt, don’t be upset. So long as you refuse, Cousin Uncle won’t dare bring them here. Take care of your health first, then consider the matter slowly.” Liu Chuyan, fearing the old lady’s headaches would recur, comforted her softly, hoping to calm her.

Madam Han listened and nodded; indeed, she felt powerless, unable to control matters anymore.

“Grandmother, grandmother.” Han Shuwei, hearing of Madam Han’s illness, hurried anxiously to her bedside.

“Shuwei, why have you come?” Liu Chuyan handed Madam Han to Yunling, hurried over to support Shuwei, whispering, “Cousin Aunt is resting, keep quiet.”

“Grandmother is ill again?” Han Shuwei entered, and Second Madam came to meet her.

“Shuwei, you’re still not fully recovered. Go back and rest.”

“It was only a few stones to the back, I’m much better now. Mother, don’t worry.” Ignoring the protests, Han Shuwei walked to Madam Han’s bed. “Grandmother, my father has returned.”

Madam Han had just closed her eyes but suddenly opened them wide. “Why isn’t your father properly working on the Yellow Canal outside? What’s he doing back here?”

“He returned because he heard about Elder Brother’s trouble. He rushed back, dirty and smelly, and is changing clothes now. I heard you were ill, so I came to see you first.”

Madam Han sat up again. “You are thoughtful. If only your father had half your sense, I would be at ease.”

“Grandmother…”

“I know your father well. He’s naturally averse to filth—walks a few steps and feels the wind has made him dirty. Rushed back from outside, after such a journey, he must be uncomfortable. Now he’s surely bathing and perfuming himself; he won’t come for at least half an hour.”

Who didn’t know that Second Master Han was obsessive about cleanliness, washing constantly, with his paper, ink, brushes, and washing utensils all kept spotless by attendants, and even the willow and magnolia trees in the courtyard cleaned morning and evening. Han Shuwei spoke up for him, but Madam Han, feeling aggrieved, needed someone to vent at and snapped impatiently.

Han Shuwei, embarrassed, retreated behind Liu Chuyan.

Yet Han Ruogu truly intended to bathe thoroughly, and Madam Han, not waiting for him, looked at Liu Chuyan and Han Shuwei standing together, recalling an errand. “Chuyan, Shuwei, the General’s Residence has sent an invitation for Quanjiu’s birthday banquet. I’ll take you both. I’ll arrange gifts from the Marquis’s household, but you should prepare some small items yourselves to present at the banquet. One mustn’t attend empty-handed.”

“Yes,” Liu Chuyan and Han Shuwei replied softly.

Suddenly, Second Madam’s face flushed; she leaned toward Madam Han. “Mother, I have a request.”

Madam Han, reading her expression, sighed lightly. “Shujing has been at the convent for over a year, hasn’t she?”

“Yes, she spent two years in mourning for the Lin family, plus a year in the convent—three years in total. If we delay any further, she’ll truly become an old maid.”

“She’s already an old maid, what’s there to fear? But this is a good opportunity—I’ll take her out to be seen, and if a suitable match arises, we’ll arrange it quickly, so she won’t be the subject of gossip any longer.”

“Mother, returning to the family isn’t shameful, please don’t…”

“What am I saying? You insisted the second son of the Lin family was good—handsome, polite. In truth, you wanted his elder sister, a noble consort in the palace, and his mother, your cousin, to strengthen ties and climb the social ladder, so you pushed your daughter into marrying him. What happened? Three months later, she became a young widow. Now, upon return, your daughter is worth nothing.”

“Mother, I know I was wrong.” Second Madam knew full well that, in her foul mood, Madam Han would berate even a cat, let alone a genuine offender. Yet, regret was useless; she could only hope Madam Han still cherished her granddaughter and would take her out, letting others know that the third young lady of Marquis Wukang’s household had mourned her late husband for three years, fulfilling her duty. Once she returned to the family, she would resume her status as a maiden, pure and unblemished.

Madam Han, unwilling to let her off, pointed at her nose. “Shujing’s predicament is entirely your fault!”

Han Shujing was four years older than Liu Chuyan and treated her like a sister, unable to bear hearing Madam Han disparage her. She stepped forward and hugged Madam Han’s arm. “Cousin Aunt, the past is behind us. Third Sister is well now; let’s think about the future. If she remarries a worthy man, it’ll be a blessing and others can’t gossip.”

Madam Han always liked Liu Chuyan’s words, so she nodded in agreement. “Chuyan is right. Second daughter-in-law, send someone to bring Jing back. Have some new clothes made for her, dress her properly—there must be no disgrace.”

Second Madam, receiving permission, nodded joyfully. “Yes, I’ll see to it at once.”

Meanwhile, Madam Han was fuming. Han Shujing had once stolen the man her own sister fancied, only for fate to turn, and within three months, she was widowed. After two years of mourning, she returned to the family, but, fearing gossip, spent another year in the convent. Now she was about to reemerge and cause trouble again, even more irksome than Liu Chuyan. She must return to her own family and warn them, so the young men—especially those of the collateral lines—would be wary. She must not let Shujing benefit at their expense.