FCP 3

Autumn rain brought a chill down the bones. The dense drizzle fell on the roof eaves, gently dripping to the ground, yet Rong Ju clearly heard its echo in her ears and felt the faint shock of the soil. Her nose caught a whiff of petrichor. 

She opened her eyes, looking at the feet of a Buddha statue, before slowly raising her head to meet the Buddha’s loving smile. Slowly, her hand clasped in front of her in reverence, her back straightened, and her waist bent in its sitting position. She kowtowed three times, zealous, reverent, and worshipping. When that was done, with practised and graceful movements, she offered incense. She took out the roll of newly-written scriptures and continued it until the drizzle stopped, the room darkened, and the candlelight exhausted. Only then did she put down her brush.

“Lady,” called a maidservant outside, who had been waiting with bated breath and hiding her chilled tremors. “Would you like to return to the courtyard now?”

From the maidservant’s words, Rong Ju knew she had returned to the Changping Duchy’s manor, in the praying hall specifically built for her and only a hundred East from the courtyard. 

She touched her flat belly. She thought of Xu Yanling’s face, her parents-in-law’s care, and everything else that had just happened–or did not happen–with calmness. She reviewed every event she could remember, though many were related to the praying hall, temples, or the lack of them later on. Although she reviewed her brief illusion several times in her head, she still felt at a loss.

Rong Ju did not reply to the maidservant’s knock on the door for a long, long time, until a new set of footsteps came.

“Wife.”

This call, along with the sliding door, made her look.

Xu Yanling stood between the doorframe, staring at her with a pair of eyes darker than the night. “It’s late.”

Rong Ju thought of their usual conduct, fleetingly remembering he always played the zither or wrote poems or painted for her, but he regarded rules higher than life, though he knew the former was ‘dead’. She was chosen as she had the same attributes. 

Yet this family was not one of similar temperament, nor did they want their new offspring to be like them. 

Xu Yanling stepped inside, bowed to the statue once, and sat down beside her. He stared with a knowing look, asking, “Is something the matter?”

Her words blurted out without any reins: “I want to return home.”

There might be a flutter of something in Xu Yanling’s eyes. He looked back first to the now-closed door, returned to her, and his voice had a slight tenderness, “I will arrange it, you—”

“No.”

Stillness.

“No?” Xu Yanling repeated, tenser. 

Rong Ju bit her lips and repeated, “I want… to return home.” She could not say anything else that would be improper, passing a threshold of no return, nor could she pretend those illusions–briefing of her future–were false. 

Besides, Xu Yanling could understand. Otherwise, his face would not turn out so dark. “Why?” he asked, still solemn, calm, and upright.

Rong Ju did not know what to say and turned her gaze to look at the Buddha statue. 

Thinking of all past, present, and future, her mind felt a considerable weight. All that she could say in the end was: “I had an enlightenment.”

“What enlightenment?”

“This…” she stopped, lowered her head, and continued: “...fate is not for me.”

“Then what fate is for you?”

“Devoting myself to Buddha.”

Xu Yanling laughed. She heard the anger in that laugh. When he stopped, he only said, eerily calm: “It’s late. Have dinner and rest early first.”

Rong Ju dared not argue. They returned to the room together, had dinner together, and rested after digesting for a while. When Xu Yanling’s hand reached out to her clothes, she accepted as usual, but he was in an unusual state; not as gentlemanly as he used to be. Several times, he called for water in the night; as a result, Rong Ju did not have the energy to get up early in the morning when he prepared to go to court. 

When he left, she was still lying awake on the bed. Rong Ju thought over the illusions again. She theorised: this fate was too noble. In the first place, the marriage was unequal. On the surface, it greatly benefited the Rong family, but it also evened out power in the Changping Duchy, especially in the hands of Xu Yanling as the heir. His marrying a no-name countryside noble, though the said countryside was close to the capital, was a strategic move. Otherwise, would he really marry another noble of equal standing in the capital? His parents’ lineage and his own genius were already enough prominent. He even inherited the previous era’s Grand Princess's wealth, as she had no heirs of her own. 

Rong Ju understood the political consideration behind their marriage well once she understood the underlying, intertwined political power network in the capital; Xu Yanling, her mother-in-law, and her aunt-in-laws personally taught her. 

She received so much care from so many noble ladies that she came to the hypothesis that being too noble was not in her good fortune. Or, if she considered from the angle that her mother-in-law was the Mary Sue female protagonist, she was merely a footnote to give her a grandchild, to let her son experience a harmonious marriage. 

The most difficult part of all this was the road to death paved by caring intentions. 

She had never been slighted, even if she was not the type who was easily offended. Her in-laws' care and affection were genuine. At the same time, their wish for Xu Yanling’s child not to be as solemn as their parents was also real. 

Yet they both were simply such people. 

What then?

Rong Ju felt lost. Her whole body was aching, so she asked for permission to recuse herself from her duties today. She stayed in the room all day, doing her daily prayers and writing scriptures in the hope of another enlightenment. Would keeping her piousness while pregnant have saved her from death? Unlikely. If the Buddha she worshipped and followed were such a petty deity, she would not return to the present time, long before her pregnancy, but after being wholly supported by the whole family. Although if this marriage were ‘wrong’, she would not have been reborn to the praying hall of Changping residence. Or was it really a rebirth? Or a warning about her future?

She felt more lost and copied more scriptures, stopping only for lunch at the insistence of the maidservants, citing the Young Master–Xu Yanling, who strictly instructed them. She obliged.

Her mother-in-law called for her later that evening, probing here and there after hearing about yesterday. Rong Ju reassured her that everything was fine; sometimes she just felt enlightened and forgot the passing of time. Besides, today, she did feel body aches. That was a point her mother-in-law understood, so she was let go after half an hour. 

While rotating the rosary bead, Rong Ju had a fleeting thought that the life both in the Rong family and as the wife of the Duke’s Heir… had little differences. She expected a little more household fighting, but the Duchess was magnanimous and let learn and took over step by step. At this point, they still had a half-half custody, as Rong Ju had yet to be introduced to various shop stewards owned by the Xu family. Besides, she had a natural mastery of arithmetic and could do mental calculations, which right away put her into the highest esteem among the loyal servants of the Duchess. 

With a little more thought, Rong Ju had an epiphany: this was just how a woman's life was in this period. 

As someone who sticks to the conventional ways and rules while also knowing it inside-out to solve conflicts, she would not have any exciting drama happening, even as someone reborn to a novel, married to the protagonist’s son. The old life completely eluded her grasp and put her in a fear lock, in case this life would be full of rocky roads to pay off her old life’s sins; so she became pious. She did not know any grand matter of the country, did not dare to stick her head out of the sandhole, and did not have any grand ambitions to be realised. 

So the fate that I bore may be just that, she thought. 

Rong Ju went through the motions. Nothing much differed from the illusions except Xu Yanling being a little more ungentlemanly than usual. He always had servants report to him on her daily activities, right in front of Rong Ju’s face–she was closely watched. Their nighttime routine became a little bit more frequent. Her letters to Rong's residence were always read first by him before being sent out. 

After one month of this tossing and turning, Xu Yanling determined that his wife had no further thoughts of “returning home”. So he slowly let go, and in mere three weeks, Rong Ju became pregnant. 

That was a little earlier than what the illusions showed. 

She took it in stride, bracing for the hellish first trimester. In the latter weeks and months, she reduced her praying time a little; she would have done both reciting and writing, but she decided to keep it to writing only. It was all in hope of a blessed child, though those actions led her parents-in-law to worry the child would be called to the devout path. This time, she also did not light incense as usual. Overall, she avoided everything that would have abolished her praying time. However, she cannot escape being taken by her in-laws to read fun storybooks, listen to opera, and engage in other ‘fun’ and noisy activities to influence the baby to develop worldly desires. 

She really, really tried this time to act as if she had been enjoying everything, that her temperament had changed with her pregnancy, and that it would signal to the in-laws that the baby would not be born a monk or nun. 

Her memory, though, had gotten way worse than before and differed from the illusions as her belly grew bigger. She would forget that she had already eaten, drunk what she asked for, or how to tie her belt. Sometimes, part of scripture she had memorised by heart would suddenly slip away like sand held in a fist. These were normal symptoms; all the servants pardoned her, and her mother-in-law gave a more nutritious bowl of medicine to help with it; the recipe was written by her grandmother-in-law.

“You looked wearier day by day.”

Rong Ju stilled and turned. She just climbed up to the edge of her bed. During the pregnancy, Xu Yanling sleeps in the side hall or study room so as not to bother her in accordance with customs. 

“It’s normal,” Rong Ju answered. “Grandmother said so.”

Xu Yanling stared at her. He ended up nodding even though Rong Ju detected a hint of… disagreement. 

Although she forgot all about that the moment her head hit the pillow. 

Xu Yanling went to his study. He thought of the look on Rong Ju’s face, the slightly paler tint of her skin, and the activities she did during her pregnancy: all were not her style, much as he himself distanced himself from it. His Mother liked to gather with her natal family to have fun, read storybooks, or listen to opera. His father and he indulged her. Lately, Mother had been taking Rong Ju with her, although she never did before Rong Ju was pregnant.

Xu Yanling’s steps slowed down and changed course to his Mother’s courtyard. He knew the night was darkening, and it was late, so he hurried instead of stopping and retreating. When he reached the gates, he sent a servant to inform his parents, and then he was invited as the courtyard was lit with lanterns, and candles glowed in the reception hall. 

“What brings you here so late, Yanling?” Yun Xiyu was dressed lightly with only an oversized men’s cloak over her body, followed by a dissatisfied Xu Sheng. They sat across from Xu Yanling, looking part worried and part confused. 

“Mother, I am abrupt today and will be even more improper; for that, I will give you this bow in hope you will pardon my transgression.” Xu Yanling stood and gave a deep bow while his parents hurried him to rise. When he was finally seated, he revealed the matter he brought with him: “Mother, I wish for you to stop bringing my wife to watch the fun.”

The parents were dazed. Then Xu Sheng hit the table, anger flashing in his expression as he rebuked, “You! Your Mother had been taking care of your wife, and now you ask this?! Do you know this will hurt your Mother’s heart? Who told you to say this, your wife? Now that you have a wife, you abandon your Mother, is that it?!”

“Xu Sheng!” Yun Xiyu took the hand he had hit the table with. “No, it’s a good thing he protects his wife! But…” Yun Xiyu looked at her son with a somewhat helpless expression, “Did I make Ju’er tire herself out because of it? Why didn’t she say anything? Oh no, that child is too serious, I should have been more tolerant, is it….”

“Nonsense, if she has a problem with it, she could say it herself! Why send Yanling here and make it seem like you are an unreasonable mother-in-law?” Xu Sheng sneered, “Just a common woman—”

“Father, Mother.” Xu Yanling’s sound resounded in the hall and stopped the two, more so to stop his father’s words, before it turned ugly. “This is my own personal observation of my wife’s condition,” he explained. “From now on, I intend to make my wife stay in the courtyard and stop going outside, too. My wife would never refuse my Mother’s care, but it is I who decided to be… unreasonable and not let her outside.”

Slowly, his parents’ shocked expression turned to puzzlement, as if Xu Yanling had suddenly grown another head. In the end, Xu Sheng just said: “Fine, you are an adult, and you have your own matters. We will just support you, then.”

With that settled, Xu Yanling bowed in respect, asking for a pardon once more, then left.

Under the starlights and among the dark roads, Xu Yanling felt a weight in his chest. His mind drifted, thinking of this marriage that was made to happen with his and his grandfather’s explicit agreement… that overstepped his parents’ opinion. 

It was fine for him, their son, to give in and accommodate his own parents as part of filial piety. However, his wife… just because she had a similar personality to his, they had a slight dislike for her.

Then what about him?

A matter of taking care of pregnancy, as how customs do, suddenly incites ugly words from his father. 

A matter of abstaining and distancing oneself from needless indulgence–especially while pregnant–suddenly made Rong Ju sound scheming. 

This matter that should have brought joy and further affection, a crystallisation of their marriage, instead made the harmony between the family crack….

Did he misstep?

Xu Yanling stopped in his tracks, looking at the far artificial lake and thinking of Rong Ju’s request once that felt so long ago: to “return home”–“This fate is not for me.”

Xu Yanling shook his head, clearing his mind from the rare, turbid thoughts, and went to his courtyard. He entered the main room and peeped a little on how Rong Ju slept–pale, almost translucent as the moonlight cast between the windows’ gap. He felt another weight; something he cannot grasp at its root. Perhaps this is what helplessness feels like? 

He still went to sleep in the side room as customs dictate.

Indeed, as Xu Yanling had asked, the in-laws stopped bringing Rong Ju out or into the manor for fun, citing she had reached the end of her pregnancy and would need to focus on that. Rong Ju had a rough estimate of the birth time. Nearing the estimated week, she devoted more time to prayer, returning to lighting incense, reciting and writing scriptures, all while sitting on a chaise lounge. From time to time, if Xu Yanling were in the manor, he would pop out to check on her condition, extinguish the incense, and then leave. The door and windows were left wide open to air out the smoke. 

The pregnancy finally came to an end. 

Rong Ju was very familiar with the contractions as she went into labour. Calmly, she walked out of the praying hall and told the guarding maidservants: “I’m going into labour.” The next moment, a rush of water slid down her legs, so she added, “My water just broke.”

Rushing, noise, boisterous, yet all was done still in an orderly manner. 

Rong Ju lay in the familiar bed, watching the familiar maidservants and midwives scurrying around. She heard the familiar instructions. She felt her strength slip out little by little with an accompanying wave of pain, feeling a great tear that seemed to suck out all of her vitality, and slowly, she thought: The baby should be healthy. 

Her eyes closed. Someone told her to keep her eyes open, though she had no more energy to lift her eyelid. 

At one point, she could not retain her consciousness, and so she let it go, drifting, floating, slowly disappearing into a void. 

Right before she faded, she heard the sound of a baby’s cries, a loud crash as if a door or wall had been broken down, and someone calling her name…

She did not die. Not immediately. Death was impending and hung above her head.

She awoke in the fifth hour, around three or four hours after her childbirth. Rong Ju did feel weak all over, like all of her strength had been drained away. It took some time before she realised something was holding in her hand, or she held something. So she looked over, her neck barely moving, and saw Yanling sitting with his forehead on her hand. 

She wanted to call out, but there were no words. Just breathing. She tried to move her fingers, but to no avail. So she lay there, letting everything happen and listening to her own heartbeat and breath. So slow and weak, like her whole body right now. And she fell asleep soon after.

Yanling woke up as dawn broke through the gaps in the windows. He raised his head, looking at the pale and weakened Rong Ju on her bed. He grasped her cold hand, putting it near her lips, and kissed it reverently before letting go and leaving the room. 

There was another room separated by a corridor where the baby was currently being taken care of by the nursing mother. He checked the little one: still red, wrinkled, and peacefully asleep. He caressed the small cheeks before turning to leave, not speaking a word despite all of the servants’ hushed greetings. 

Yanling went to wash up, change his clothes, greet his parents, and then to the court. Of course, there were many talks in between all of that, but he seemed oblivious to all of it. The only time he spoke was to thank the Emperor for his grace in exempting him from court to attend to his wife and newborn child. 

Back at home, the first room he visited was Rong Ju’s current room. Some customs forbade this, yes–nobody enforced it, so there he went. He heard the servants’ reports that the Young Lady’s health stayed the same, but food and water could be consumed. He sat again in the stool beside her bed, this time on a different side. Took her hand again into his, feeling the coldness and the slow pulse coursing through it. 

For three days of his days off, he did nearly everything by Rong Ju’s bedside. On the fourth day, he felt the twitch of her fingertips and immediately straightened up, staring at the pale face that he’d personally wiped with a warm towel.

Rong Ju did open her eyes, just a little bit. Just enough for her eyelashes to flutter like dragonflies’ wings before she completely revealed her pupils, Yanling held his breath as he watched Rong Ju gradually awoke from her drowsiness, inspecting everything in her field of vision with a subconscious weight. Then that inspection finally moved to him. Still, she seemed to weigh and judge the things in her vision, as if trying to ascertain what she was seeing. 

Yanling let out just the slightest breath. She called, “Wife?”

“Who… are you?”

The physicians were immediately called. They gave the same diagnosis: weakened from childbirth, but nobody could tell exactly why she lost her memories. 

She gradually recovered, still. This was a good thing. The whole manor was celebrating, happy for her recovery. She smiled more, took the little child into her arms, and everyone said she seemed to glow with a different radiance than usual.

Yanling stood outside this circle of celebration, thinking of Rong Ju’s past words—this fate is not for me. 

He watched this recovered ‘Rong Ju’ with just the appropriate amount of respect. She took care of the baby herself, which pleased Yanling’s parents. He watched and respected her as she lightened the whole manor by smiling more, being more approachable, speaking with sweetness, and never stepping into the prayer halls. He thought maybe the ‘education’ his parents gave her affected her. Maybe this was a post-partum effect. 

He gifted her a painting of an Osmanthus tree where a swallow was perched. He wrote the finest poem he could think of. He watched the recovered Rong Jus’ reactions: smile, thanks, and immediate instruction to hang the painting. He watched where she hung the painting, remembering how Rong Ju of the past would ruminate about the meaning behind his creation and guessed right on the first try. Then she would roll the scrolls, never hanging them. She prefers hiding all of his creations away in her bookshelves. 

At the slightest look towards that very same bookshelves, the recovered ‘Rong Ju’ told her maidservants to hang a different painting every day from the collection on the bookshelves. She looked towards Yanling and smiled. “It’s better for Husbands’ work to be hung so that I can appreciate it every day.”

Rong Ju of the past never told him why she preferred to shelve away his creations. He didn’t mind, either, as he thought that might be her simple habits from writing countless scriptures day to day. 

He answered the recovered ‘Rong Ju’, “Do as you like.”

That evening, he went to the prayer halls. There were low shelves under the incense tables where most of Rong Ju’s written scriptures were. He took one out, looking over her olden style calligraphy. He thought of trying the Four Arts with this recovered ‘Rong Ju’, but then let the intention go—what uses would it be?

He lit some incense in the prayer hall, touched the words on the scroll, and recited the same sutra Rong Ju usually recited in a low voice. He didn’t know what these sutras were for, but his heart only had one thought:

Let her soul be free from worries and resentment, let her next life be full of happiness…

And at the end of the scroll, Yanling stopped for a moment and whispered, “May I have the fortune to meet you again.”

[[END]]

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