Chapter 95: The Republican-Era Young Lady Stops Making a Fuss: Xuange, Don’t Use That Kind of…

She lay in bed for a while, waiting for her eyes to gradually adjust before feeling her way to the window.

When she pulled the curtains open, brilliant sunlight flooded in.

A few male servants were busy in the garden outside, though she had no idea what they were doing.

When she went back to the bedside to check the time, she discovered it was already eleven.

She quietly blamed He Dusheng for drawing the curtains so tightly last night that she had slept this long.

When she went to the wardrobe for clothes, she realized a neatly folded outfit had already been placed by the bed.

Song Xuange smiled knowingly and put it on.

As soon as she stepped out of the room, she felt that the entire house was strangely quiet.

She stood by the railing of the spiral staircase for a moment and noticed two male servants whispering to each other at the bottom.

She listened carefully and found that they were talking about doing another thorough cleaning for snakes, insects, rats, and spiderwebs.

Song Xuange was speechless. At that volume, with those expressions, and with their heads nearly pressed together, anyone who didn’t know better would have thought they were plotting something major.

And this was it?

She walked down, and the servants spotted her.

The two of them stopped and bowed. “Miss.”

Their voices were still very soft.

One of them was Dahe. Song Xuange remembered his voice being rough and loud, but now that he was deliberately keeping it down, she could barely hear more than his breath.

It sounded especially strange.

“Did you hurt your throat? Why are you talking like that today?”

The two servants did not answer immediately. They first exchanged a look before Dahe replied, “It was the master’s order. He told us to speak more softly and move lightly when we work, so we don’t disturb you, Miss.”

Song Xuange finally understood.

She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. “There’s no need to be this careful.”

Then she let the two of them go back to their work.

Ruixin came by carrying a blue-and-white porcelain vase. The moment she saw Song Xuange, her eyes lit up with delight. “Miss, you’re awake…” She had called out loudly before remembering to lower her voice. “I’ll go tell Auntie to serve breakfast.”

After saying that, she walked off again with the vase in her arms.

Song Xuange found it amusing. Why was every single one of them talking like this?

She sat down by the dining table, and Nanny Wen came over carrying a tray, smiling so broadly that fine lines gathered at the corners of her eyes.

“The bird’s nest¹ custard with milk was steamed by sir early this morning. Miss, have a little to tide yourself over first. I’ll go make the proper meal right away. Everything’s ready to hand, so it won’t take long.”

The bird’s nest dessert was like pudding, with osmanthus honey drizzled over the top.

It was only a small bowl, and she finished it in just a few bites.

Nanny Wen then brought out breakfast. The table was full, with wontons He Dusheng had promised to make for her, scallion oil shredded pork noodles that were Nanny Wen’s specialty, and things she herself used to love, like rice balls, savory soy milk, toast, fried eggs, and more.

There wasn’t too much of any one item, and she truly was hungry, so she ended up finishing everything.

Nanny Wen took a small stool and sat a short distance behind her to keep her company.

Seeing that she had finished eating made her very happy, and she brought over some cut fruit as well. As she spoke, there was a note of heartache in her voice. “Pregnancy is a major matter. It’s already been three months, and yet you never said a word, Miss. If we’d known earlier, we would’ve taken even greater care looking after you. A while back, I actually watched you rushing around all day without eating.”

Nanny Wen’s face was full of regret.

Thinking about it, Song Xuange herself felt a little afraid in hindsight.

In her previous life, she had desperately wanted this child to miscarry and had thrown herself into all kinds of torment. The one who truly suffered was this child.

The two of them were feeling equally gloomy when they saw Ruixin passing by again, this time carrying another round-bellied vase with a wide mouth.

Song Xuange called out to stop her. “What’s with you and all these vases this morning?”

Before Ruixin could answer, Nanny Wen burst out laughing first.

Song Xuange had no idea why.

Nanny Wen said, “It’s not just the vases. Early this morning, sir gave orders that anything placed on tall cabinets and display shelves had to be light and not easy to break. All those ornamental rocks and gold and jade decorations were taken down. Even the framed paintings on the walls had all their nails checked to make sure they were secure. He’s afraid something might accidentally hit you.”

Ruixin lowered her head and laughed quietly too.

“And that’s not even the half of it. Sir got up before dawn this morning and called in the people who tend the garden to inspect every plant in the yard. Things like jasmine, night-blooming jessamine, oleander, and datura, anything poisonous, all had to be cleared out by today. Whatever gets replanted has to be safe flowers and trees. They’re busy with that right now.”

Wasn’t this being a little too careful?

Then again, it did sound exactly like something He Dusheng would do.

She asked Nanny Wen, “Is lunch ready?”

“Almost, almost.”

“In a little while, I’ll…”

Nanny Wen cut her off. “My dear Miss, please don’t. Sir specifically told us not to let you deliver meals again. He’ll be back before lunchtime.”

Just as she was speaking, the sound of a car came from the front entrance.

A short while later, He Dusheng came in leading a man carrying a medicine box. It was Doctor Wu, an old acquaintance of the family.

Naturally, he had been invited here for Song Xuange.

Doctor Wu was in his fifties and could be said to have watched Song Xuange grow up.

After checking her pulse, he congratulated the young couple and said that the fetus was stable and the mother was in good health.

Only then did He Dusheng, who had been tense all along, finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He kept Doctor Wu for lunch, then politely escorted him out.

When He Dusheng came back, he sat down near Song Xuange and said, “I’m not going to Suzhou, but I still need to make proper arrangements for Pingzhang’s affairs, and there are other matters I need to handle as well. I originally thought of calling the stewards over to discuss things, but with people coming and going through the house, you’d definitely find it annoying. So I went out early this morning and took care of those trivial matters first.”

Only then did Song Xuange realize he was explaining why he hadn’t been there that morning.

“I’m not sick, you know.”

He Dusheng said, “At a time like this, I should spend more time with you.”

“It’s not like I’m giving birth in the next day or two.”

He Dusheng was stubborn, and Song Xuange couldn’t argue him out of it, so she let him have his way.

When he was at home, he was even busier than when he went to work. During the day, he had to supervise the gardeners and servants as they rearranged the furnishings around the house, and he still personally cooked for her as well.

At night, when things finally quieted down, he would sit there reading a book.

These days Song Xuange slept whenever she needed to and woke whenever she needed to, entirely according to what her body wanted, regardless of what time it was outside.

Every time she woke up, she saw that He Dusheng was still reading the same book.

It had been several days already, and he still hadn’t finished it.

So she asked him about it out of curiosity.

He Dusheng directly handed the book to her.

Song Xuange was surprised to find that it was actually an English book.

You should know that before Father Song took him in, He Dusheng had only studied for a few years at the village school and merely learned to recognize a few characters.

“You can understand it?”

He Dusheng smiled awkwardly and scratched his forehead. “Not really. It’s pretty hard going.”

Then he explained, “Back when I was running errands in the streets, I often delivered things to the mission school. Every time I went, I’d crouch outside a classroom and listen to them teach. What I learned was all fragmented, bits and pieces I only half understood.”

Song Xuange had never heard about that part of his past.

Hearing it now, she could not help picturing a boy in patched clothes hiding outside a classroom to steal lessons, and her heart immediately ached for him.

“Why did I even start talking about this?” He Dusheng quickly cut himself off, looking annoyed with himself. “You probably don’t want to hear it.”

Song Xuange shifted farther into the bed and patted the spot beside her.

He Dusheng stood up hesitantly, then slowly made his way over.

Song Xuange patted the bed again, and only then did he lift the blanket and sit down beside her.

Song Xuange leaned against him, wrapped her arms around one of his, and rested her head on his shoulder.

She could feel the muscles in his body tense for a moment before gradually relaxing again.

She tipped her face up to look at him. “I want to hear about your past.”

He Dusheng flushed a little. “What’s there to hear? It was just running all over the streets and alleys. Nothing interesting.”

Song Xuange looked at him stubbornly.

Helpless, He Dusheng had no choice but to pick out the more interesting bits and tell her about those years he had spent scraping out a living on the streets.

To him, they were interesting stories. To Song Xuange, they carried a very different weight.

For a half-grown street punk, he had been in danger more times than he could count, and each time he had escaped only by relying on his tough body and his silver tongue.

What Father Song had valued in him, that refusal to bow to fate, that unwillingness to admit defeat, that quick-witted spark, had all been forged in those life-and-death hardships.

“Whenever I felt like I couldn’t hold on anymore, I’d tell myself that as long as I was still alive, maybe things could get better someday. So I just kept enduring it, again and again.” He Dusheng’s eyes were unfocused, fixed somewhere in the void as though he had sunk into old memories.

Song Xuange pressed herself a little closer to him.

He Dusheng tentatively placed a hand on her head. After pausing for a moment, he slowly began to stroke her hair.

With a soft laugh, he said, “Doesn’t it sound ridiculous? A poor nobody with nothing to his name, yet somehow full of all these grand ambitions at the wrong time, dealt a bad hand by fate and still refusing to accept it. Lots of people laughed at me for that, and I got beaten up more than once because of it.”

“For example, sneaking off to eavesdrop on classes?”

He Dusheng teased her. “How can a scholar’s business be called stealing? Sure, I got beaten for it, but I learned quite a bit too.” He added brightly, “I even picked up another way to make money from it.”

“What, climbing walls?”

“I already knew how to climb walls by then. After going often enough, I discovered that quite a few young masters and young ladies were deeply troubled by the assignments their teachers gave them. So I took on work doing their homework for them. That’s how I developed a knack for imitating handwriting, and I never slipped up once. The young masters and young ladies were all delighted. I’d get a few copper coins each time, and when I was lucky, even a dime or two.”

Some of them didn’t have enough pocket money on hand, so they paid me with pastries and sweets they’d brought from home, and I took those too. Laugh if you want, but during those days I got to eat all sorts of good things I’d never even seen before.

“Once, I had osmanthus candy that a young master brought with him. It was really delicious. Later, after I started working for Father Song and had a monthly wage, I even asked around, hoping to buy some. I heard the process was complicated and took several months, and that it was only made when wealthy families married off their daughters. It wasn’t sold on the street at all. I never got to eat it again.”

Song Xuange stared at him with wide eyes.

“Is this boring you?”

If he could learn enough just by listening in secret to finish other people’s homework, then he was clearly gifted.

Song Xuange grew puzzled. “With a mind like yours, even if you’d only studied in the countryside, you still could have made something of yourself. Why did you come all the way to Shanghai² to scrape out a living on your own at such a young age?”

He Dusheng smiled. “The village school I attended when I was little was run by the He clan. I was an illegitimate child, and no one knew who my father was. When I was eleven, my mother died, and my maternal grandparents were gone too. After that, the clan wouldn’t keep me. They took back the ancestral house and drove me out.”

At that, Song Xuange sat bolt upright. “How could they do that? You were only eleven. What could you possibly have understood at that age? They were driving you to your death.”

He Dusheng, however, was not nearly as indignant as she was.

“By local custom, my mother should have been drowned in a pig cage³ and burned as a warning⁴. The fact that they allowed me to live and grow up, as they said themselves, already counted as mercy.” There was a smile on his lips, but his voice was cold. “They all thought that was my fate, that this family disgrace should have ended when I turned eleven. But I refused to accept it. Not only did I survive, I survived well.”

Song Xuange looked into his eyes. “If you were that unwilling to submit to fate, then when I treated you badly before, why did you… why did you just accept it and never force the issue?”

Caught off guard by such a sudden question, He Dusheng raised a hand and covered her eyes. “Xuange, don’t look at me like that. When you do, it makes me think your eyes are filled with nothing but me. I can’t bear that.”

Translator’s Notes