Chapter 38 The threads of affection at the wedding are like a viper's sting; even a woman can untangle them.
In the family temple on the outskirts of the city, Changsun Qingjing and Li Shimin, under the guidance of Li Jiancheng and his wife, completed the Three Offerings Ceremony.
Changsun Qingjing successfully formally entered the temple and became a member of the Tang State Palace.
All four were taciturn. The brothers rode side by side, while the sisters-in-law rode together.
The monotonous tinkling of the bells was drowsy.
A cold wind blew open the curtains, and outside the car window came a series of desperate, hoarse cries, while non-existent groans of pain echoed in my ears. Even my breath carried the scent of fine sand and crushed ice.
Changsun Qingjing silently moved his hand closer to Dugu Cui's knee and gently stroked the back of her hand.
She liked the scent of Dugu Cui, which was similar to that of the Gao family, a blend of agarwood and sandalwood—tranquil, calm, and silently warding off countless difficulties.
"It's alright." Dugu Cui pulled her sister-in-law, who was more than ten years younger than her, closer to her and loosely wrapped her arms around her tender shoulders.
"We'll get through this together."
The sound of the bells grew increasingly broken and loud, with a kind of irritating intensity that seemed to pierce the eardrums.
The carriage bumped along, heading towards Changsun Qingjing's current official home, and towards an endless future of pain and uncertainty.
As the new mistress of the Tang State Mansion, Changsun Qingjing didn't need to do any cooking herself. She simply followed Dugu Cui to familiarize herself with the environment.
Lady Dou grew increasingly thin, ate little and lost her appetite. The imperial physicians were at a loss and could only instruct the family to prepare some of her favorite foods without any restrictions.
After discussing the matter for half a day, Dugu Cui and Changsun Qingjing ordered the cook to prepare an extra bowl of porridge as the first dish Changsun's wife would prepare for the matriarch, Dou, after she entered the household. The rest of the dishes remained the same.
“The apricot flavor in the apricot yogurt is weak. Try it.” Dugu Cui handed the spoon to Changsun Qingjing. “Mother prefers a stronger apricot flavor, so make it again. Also, use twice the usual amount of rock honey. When it’s almost done simmering, taste it again to see if it’s strong or weak.”
Upon hearing the two ladies' plan, the cooks resumed making apricot milk. The two ladies then temporarily withdrew outside the kitchen to rest.
In her spare time, Dugu Cui would tell Changsun Qingjing in detail about the Duke's mansion's several houses, villas, and farmlands in Daxing, Luoyang, and Hedong, as well as the temples and monasteries it had donated, so that the new bride would not be clueless when the family talked about familiar matters.
"How are you in mathematics? I heard that you have an uncle who is skilled in this art and is highly regarded by the lord," Dugu Cui asked.
"I dare not compare myself to my uncle. I was only urged by my mother to read a few pages of the 'Zhoubi' and 'Wucao'. My mother often said that as lazy as I am, learning a little bit is enough to avoid being cheated by merchants when I go to the city or metropolitan area," Changsun Qingjing said with a smile. "However, my aunt is bold. She usually asks me to check the accounts of official land taxes together."
When the topic of the official lands confiscated by the imperial court came up, Changsun Qingjing was slightly melancholy for a moment, but then she quickly composed herself and said, "Sister-in-law, please feel free to ask me anything."
“That’s enough. Your mother has thought things through very well… I can finally slack off a bit from time to time. No rush, I’ll teach you slowly. I’m worried the cook might be lazy, so go and try the freshly made apricot yogurt first…”
The two were walking hand in hand when a heated argument broke out in the courtyard.
"...Why bring Wan Xuandao to Daxing now? Did Mother allow it?" Changsun Qingjing heard Li Shimin's sharp question. His resentment seemed to pierce through the stagnant air.
“It’s Father’s will. You don’t need to interfere. You’ve only just officially gotten married today, and instead of taking a break, you’re meddling in Father’s affairs!” Li Jiancheng lacked confidence, but he tried his best to uphold his father’s authority.
"Was it Father's will or Lady Wan's? As a concubine of the Duke, Lady Wan should be serving the lady with medicine and soup. Mother, mindful of her years of obedience, couldn't bear to see her work, so she specially arranged for her to guard the house in Hedong; she also kept Zhiyun by her side to raise him, treating him as her own son. Instead of repaying her kindness, she took advantage of the mistress's serious illness to place her own younger brother in the Duke's mansion to serve Father. What is she really thinking?"
“What you say makes sense, but how dare I disobey my father’s orders?” Li Jiancheng was somewhat embarrassed and could only bring up his father again.
“Since my elder brother is unwilling to persuade Father to respect his wife, then I have no choice but to go myself…” Seeing his elder brother’s hesitant manner, Li Shimin was filled with bitterness and turned away in anger.
Changsun Qingjing rushed forward and blocked Li Shimin's path.
"Wait a minute, let me hear what my sister-in-law has to say first." She spread her arms wide exaggeratedly, like a tiny phoenix, presumptuously blocking the hawk's path.
"You were eavesdropping on our conversation!" Li Shimin said without thinking in his anger.
Changsun Qingjing pouted and said, "You were shouting so loudly just now because you were worried that I wouldn't go and cause trouble for Father?"
Dugu Cui and Li Jiancheng together restrained their impulsive second brother.
“Second brother, don’t be hasty about this matter. We should proceed slowly. The most urgent thing is to delay Mother’s life so that we can take good care of her. As for Father, we should use both soft and hard tactics, but we must not anger him. If we anger Father, it will be even more detrimental to Mother’s health…” The three of them weighed the pros and cons and explained the situation repeatedly, finally managing to persuade the stubborn Li Shimin.
"Oh dear, I haven't even tasted the porridge yet! What if it's not sweet enough or doesn't suit Mother's taste?" Changsun Qingjing suddenly stamped his foot anxiously. "I can't let my mother lose face."
Dugu Cui smiled and said, "Mother is satisfied with all the soup you serve. Just tidy up your appearance, hold the porridge in your hands, and serve Mother. Talk and laugh with Mother more. According to etiquette, today is the day you two are officially married. Mother is happy and will naturally drink more."
Indeed, when Lady Dou, who was on her sickbed, saw Li Shimin and Changsun Qingjing return from their temple visit, she was overjoyed and even reluctantly swallowed a few bites of Xingping pastry and glutinous rice cakes.
Her favorite dish was still porridge mixed with apricot milk and rock sugar.
Although Madam Dou's appetite remained worrisome, it at least gave her children a glimmer of hope for improvement.
The imperial physician didn't rule out the possibility of a cure, which made the somewhat naive Li Shimin think that perhaps his mother's appetite had improved and that prescribing another medicine would be effective.
Her cheerful response was somewhat inappropriate, so she could only stammer and brush it off: "Mother, are you just trying to amuse me?"
"My mind is made up. My clothes and belongings are all packed into my trunk. I will set off after discussing it with your father."
Lady Dou's so-called "consultation" never involved obtaining her husband's consent; she simply informed him and then disappeared into the mountains.
Whether her husband was happy or not, or whether he had any complaints, was not within her consideration.
“Vitiha, I know you are unwilling for me to leave Daxing City. Say everything you have to say at once, and I will refute your points one by one.” Madam Dou was already displaying the spirit of arguing with her second son.
Li Shimin struggled with his conscience for a long time before finally suppressing the urge to vent. He said in an almost ingratiating tone, "When have I ever been able to win an argument with Mother? Even if Mother wanted to set off for Luoyang right now, I could only obediently accompany her. Going to Zhongnan Mountain is fine too. Before Qingjing got married, she lived in her uncle's villa in Zhongnan Mountain for a long time and knows all the major roads, paths, and scenic spots better than I do. She can tell stories, legends, and play the pipa and konghou. With her accompanying me, Mother won't feel bored."
Madam Dou's words were sharp and desperate, with a kind of fortitude to fight against fate; her tone, however, was cold and indifferent, filled with a resolute detachment.
The four younger generation members were speechless for a moment. Even Li Shimin, who had been resentful about Wan Xuandao's coming to Daxing to rely on the Li family, did not know how to repeat his mother's words to his father.
The maids were packing up the peacock screen that the lady loved most in the bedroom, preparing to pack it up for the carriage. When Madam Dou saw this, she suddenly shouted sternly, "Put this screen back where it is! It's a thirty-year-old item and nothing to regret, especially since the peacock in the screen is blind. From now on, there's no need to take it out anymore."
Immediately afterwards, a piercing pain shot through her chest, gripping her throat and causing violent coughing and endless gasping.
The maid, who was always familiar with the mistress's travels or the habits of accompanying the Duke of Tang on his official tours, fell silent for a moment, unaware of the deeper meaning, and could only apologize.
Lady Dou drank the agarwood drink offered by Changsun Qingjing, tears welling in her eyes. She softly spoke to the maid who had been unjustly scolded, "Good child, take the screen with you that Erlang gave me, the one painted with phoenixes perched on paulownia trees. This peacock screen is just an old, useless object; there's no need to have it mended. Let it rot away..."
Knowing the story of the peacock screen, Li Jiancheng and Li Shimin were secretly saddened, but dared not even breathe loudly.
"Let's disperse for now." A violent cough left Madam Dou too weak to continue, but she still remembered to instruct Li Shimin, "Vitiha, quickly go and tell your father what I meant. There's no need for explanations, just say it exactly as it is, without changing a single word, and don't wait for his response. After you've said that, come back and take me and Qingjing away!"
This was the end of Changsun Qingjing's entire wedding. She forgot the solemn sacrificial ceremony and prayers in the ancestral temple, forgot her anxiety that the food might not suit Dou's taste, even forgot the quarrel between the Li brothers over the preferential treatment their father's concubine's brother received, and forgot her resolute decision to stand in front of Li Shimin like a mantis trying to stop a chariot, preventing him from arguing with their father. But she could not forget the peacock-embroidered screen in Dou's bedroom, the dazzling interplay of old and new silk threads, and even more so, the emptiness and sorrow in the proud peacock's eyes.
If the threads of love are like a viper stinging the hand, a woman can also emulate a brave man and cut off her wrist.
As Changsun Qingjing thought this, he glanced one last time at the old screen buried in the dust of the room. The dust reflected a golden glimmer in the sunlight, fine and scattered, dazzling and magnificent.
They fell onto the screen, like scattered gold dust that dazzled the eyes, but once the floating clouds obscured the golden wheel, the dust was ultimately just dust.
This is Changsun Qingjing's third home, unrelated to blood ties.
Author's Note: After the wedding, the middle-aged couple was left with nothing but shattered glass.
It's somewhat poignant to think that women in ancient times mostly needed the support of their fathers and brothers, their husbands' conscience, and their sons' success.
It's better now after all.
While writing this chapter, I inexplicably thought of Virginia Woolf's *Mrs. Dalloway*.
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