After Transmigration, Her Whole Family Are Villains

Chapter 63

...

The young master returned at night.

The stars lit his path.

Frogs and insects accompanied him.

At last, the two bid farewell to that little courtyard.

That courtyard with a corner of the mud wall collapsed, that courtyard with a table whose legs had been replaced, that courtyard where the arrogant young man boasted of having a well.

That small courtyard with only four simple houses.

That courtyard where one had to use bowls to catch the rain during heavy downpours, that courtyard where one had to be careful of flying roof tiles during strong winds.

That courtyard with two trees in front of the gate.

Night fell, and guests could no longer linger.

They had to take their leave.

For they had to depart early the next morning.

But Meng Shaoxia's horse refused to move, unable to be led away or carried.

It was rather awkward.

Meng Shaoxia wondered if the horse had somehow sensed his inner feelings.

The horse seemed more sensible than him.

So he rode on the guard's horse instead.

The young masters returned at night, accompanied in silence by their guards.

They usually enjoyed such weather, feeling excitement when traveling at night on the road.

They would engage in lofty discussions, and at times Meng Shaoxia would even mischievously recount some indescribable cases unsuitable for the night.

Hearing them, He Chen felt both thrilled and appalled.

But tonight, there was silence.

Perhaps there was too much to say, yet they knew not how to begin.

When they came, the journey seemed long, winding through the deep village.

But as they departed, it felt too swift, and soon that little courtyard vanished into the darkness behind them.

They arrived at the county town, where there was no curfew, and street vendors still called out, selling snacks.

Passing by a street, they heard the laughter of young ladies.

The aroma of rice noodles wafted by.

Yet the two young masters wore solemn expressions.

At the inn, they saw the gifts sent by the Jiang family.

Learning of their departure the next day, the Jiang family had thoughtfully prepared many items for them.

Not to mention food and drink.

There were thick cloaks to guard against changing weather.

Luxurious felt blankets, in case they needed to sleep outdoors.

Local specialties of Mingxian, medicinal herbs, porcelain wares - all fine enough to present as gifts upon their return.

There were also fragrant sachets prepared by Miss Jiang Wan, said to repel mosquitoes and refresh the mind.

The elder Madam Jiang had given them prayer beads blessed by the Grand Master of Qingyuan Temple for their elders.

And much, much more.

The gifts filled half a room.

Such sincerity and thoughtfulness.

That morning, they had visited the Jiang manor.

Lord Jiang was gracious and amiable, a talented scholar and warrior.

Lady Jiang was elegantly beautiful.

The elder Madam Jiang exuded a Buddhist aura of refined grace.

Miss Jiang Wan was a talented beauty, well-versed in arts and literature.

Jiang Rong was plump and prosperous.

The Jiang family had ample wealth and prestige, with an orderly household that left a very favorable impression on them.

So much so that they had developed a prejudiced dislike for the unmet youngest son of the Jiang family, Jiang's youngest son.

Unfilial, disrespectful and neglectful of ancestors, parents, marrying and reveling during the mourning period.

Undutiful, lacking fraternal love, harming kin, committing unpardonable acts.

Such a name must mean he had committed grave misdeeds.

In Meng Shaoxia's family, there were no such people, but his uncle who oversaw law enforcement in the capital often dealt with strange cases revealing the depths of human evil, beyond imagination.

In He Chen's complicated family, there were indeed unfilial descendants who had been expelled from the household.

Yet all this now seemed absurd in contrast to the humble dwelling of Jiang Feng's family.

Even these generous gifts before them appeared insincere.

They were not children, nor were they ignorant commoners. They were educated and had seen the world, understanding principles.

They believed what they had witnessed.

They saw Jiang Feng proudly say his home was good because they had a well, without complaint about the difficult mountain paths or the dilapidated courtyard, without lamenting their difficult life.

He merely smiled, saying they had a well, so they did not need to fetch water from afar, making washing convenient.

They saw Jiang Yu secretly brush away crumbs from the table, cupping them in her hands and furtively eating them. They all witnessed it - unrefined, lacking in decorum.

They saw the red string hanging in Jiang Yu's room.

They saw Jiang's father return home dusty and weary after work, tenderly embracing his child with a smile.

They saw Jiang's mother return with a heavy basket on her back, drenched in sweat under the sunset glow.

They saw their hardship, yet everyone smiled.

Appreciating the delicious snacks, feeling blessed by the hearty dinner.

Initially, when He Chen read the poetry by Jiang Feng, he felt some disbelief, even doubting in his heart.

The poem was too gloomy.

The young man had always greeted them with a smile.

He did not believe Jiang Feng understood such bitterness.

But now he understood, he understood why Jiang Feng did not immediately agree to follow him to Qingzhou, for an unfilial person's descendants could not sit for the imperial examinations.

They even wondered if Jiang Feng had truly rescued He Chen's sister by chance that day from those ruffians, or if they had been lured outside the city to be robbed, with the two of them as the intended victims.

Yet they could not bring themselves to dislike him.

All their teachings of benevolence and righteousness, all their knowledge of the classics, paled before a simple pot of wild vegetable soup.

The rice they could not swallow was the fine grain they rarely had, the grain they had to borrow and pay interest for.

To entertain guests, each person had a bowl.

Little Jiang Yu ate so earnestly, so carefully, fearful of wasting a single grain of rice.

Meng Shaoxia and He Chen gazed at the mountain of gifts before them, still silent.

The servants asked how to handle them.

The two remained silent.

Such thoughtful gestures, yet they felt even more ill at ease.

Had they not met Jiang Feng and learned of his family, they might have accepted the gifts joyfully, highly impressed by the Jiangs.

For even in such reduced circumstances, they still maintained their dignity, truly admirable.

But after witnessing Jiang Feng's family, they understood what true hardship meant, what was truly admirable.

A voice repeated in He Chen's mind that these were the elders' issues, unrelated to the generous and kind Miss Jiang Wan.

Yet he could not escape it.

Miss Jiang Wan treated even her maidservants with gentleness and courtesy, yet her own cousin wore clothes inferior to her maid's.

The night grew deep.

They had to depart early the next day.

They should rest soon.

But the two wealthy young masters born with silver spoons could not sleep.

Meng Shaoxia had a dream where he intervened to rescue a young lady being beaten by pursuers in the capital city. She was said to have injured their young master, and she was beaten bloody.

But her eyes were as fierce as a wolf's.

He rescued her, but she remained unconscious, so he did not ask He Chen for help in finding her a place, instead taking her with him.

When she awoke, she had lost all memory of who she was.

She was like a child, remembering nothing.

So he kept her by his side, teaching her.

She was gluttonous, wanting to eat everything, and her speech was rather unrefined.

But whenever he saw her eat or heard her speak, he wanted to laugh, feeling joyful.

He sent people to inquire in the capital, but amid the chaos of war, they could not find who had sold her.

Yet being sold as a maidservant, she could not have come from a prestigious family.

Seeing his fondness for her, his mother agreed to take her as a concubine.

She was delighted, still gluttonous, still speaking without refinement.

But by then, he had become a renowned marshal for his military exploits.

Others praised his valor, but in truth, each time he went to battle, he merely wished to return swiftly, to bring her delicacies.

He worried for her, for her thoughtless speech might offend others, and he feared that if he died in war, without his protection, she would suffer.

Later, when he was to be betrothed, his intended was a niece of the reigning empress.

The new emperor sought to ally with his military family, while harboring suspicions of their martial power.

That day, she returned weeping bitterly.

She said she had seen his betrothed, and she remembered everything - that she was now an orphan, that if there was a next life, she hoped never to go to the capital, that she wished to die by her parents' side.

The next day.

She hanged herself in her room.

He went ahead with the betrothal.

He finalized the marriage arrangements, completing the six rites.

...

The rooster crowed.

Meng Shaoxia awoke.

Tears streamed down his face, his pillow damp.

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