I Am A Husband Curser, And You Are A Wife Curser. - Chapter 20

Chapter 20: Spring Blossoms and Blooming Flowers

In the sixth lunar month, Yang Tongchuan took Xiangxi, who was now three months pregnant, to see the doctor again. The doctor took his pulse and asked about his daily routine.

During the early stages of the pregnancy, Xiangxi had gone through a period where he threw up everything he ate. By the end, he was vomiting nothing but bitter stomach acid. The only thing he could keep down was plain water-cooked noodles with a pinch of salt.

During that time, Xiangxi had become gaunt, losing so much weight that he looked thinner than when they first married. Yang Tongchuan was terrified; he spent his days either rushing to the medical clinic or consulting colleagues who already had children. At night, he didn’t dare sleep deeply; he often woke up with a start and had to touch Xiangxi’s face to ensure he was still breathing before he could fall back asleep.

Now that the worst had passed, Yang Tongchuan didn’t dare overfeed him with rich tonics. Xiangxi’s stomach was weak, so he could only be fed bit by bit. Even now, they hadn’t managed to put all the weight back on him.

“The young ger’s condition has stabilized. Based on the dates, he should give birth in the first month of next year,” the doctor said, then turned to Yang Tongchuan with a serious warning. “Nurture him well at home, but remember: if he eats too much and the baby grows too large, the delivery will be extremely dangerous.”

The doctor added that last part specifically to stop this constable from running to the clinic every other day, making the neighbors think the medical hall was caught up in a lawsuit.

With the doctor’s reassurance acting as a weight off his mind, Yang Tongchuan’s steps were much lighter. On the way home, he made a special trip to the Xiang house to deliver the good news. Xiang Qiang was delighted, though he felt a pang of heartache for Xiangxi’s fragile health.

Now, Xiangxi was the most protected person in the Yang household. He truly lived a life where his “ten fingers did not touch the spring water” (a life of leisure). His only chance to use a needle and thread was to sew a few small clothes for the baby, but the finished products were so disastrous that the eldest sister-in-law, Ming Le, couldn’t stand to look at them.

Eventually, Ming Le took over the task of making the baby’s clothes and bibs. Xiangxi’s only job was to choose the fabrics and patterns; he wasn’t allowed to lift a finger for the rest.

Yang Tongchuan discussed the arrangements with Mother Yang, suggesting they book a wet nurse as soon as possible given the due date.

“Is it a bit too early to book one now?” Mother Yang, being experienced, was more pragmatic.

“Let’s start looking. A good wet nurse is hard to find. We’ll pay for it ourselves out of our branch’s savings; we won’t take it from the family pot.” Yang Tongchuan had seen the lingering health issues his sister-in-law suffered from a poor recovery, and he was determined to be extra careful. “If the wet nurse is reliable, I want to keep her until the child is weaned.”

“Isn’t that a bit long? Usually, once a baby is a month old, they can start drinking goat’s milk,” Mother Yang noted. She knew her son was acting out of over-concern, so she didn’t get angry and slowly explained the local customs.

When a ger gives birth, well-off families might buy a mother goat, and even wealthier ones hire a wet nurse for a period. Poor families usually raise their children on rice water. “There’s no rush. Go back and discuss it with Xiangxi first,” she said, sending her son away.

When he returned to the room, Yang Tongchuan found Xiangxi sitting by the bed with a long face, sulking.

“Who was brave enough to offend our family’s precious treasure? Why such a big temper?” Yang Tongchuan hadn’t realized the gravity of the situation and walked toward him with a grin.

“Don’t come over!” Xiangxi pointed at him, keeping him at a distance.

“What’s wrong? You were fine at dinner. Why the mood swing?” Yang Tongchuan had already noticed that Xiangxi’s temper had been unpredictable lately. A few days ago, Xiangxi had been drinking a bowl of chicken soup and started crying, saying the chicken’s death was “too tragic.”

Yang Tongchuan had been so spooked he thought Xiangxi was possessed. But after talking to his colleagues, he realized they had all gone through this. One colleague from the interrogation room told him: “Yours is nothing. My wife wouldn’t even let me in the bedroom after work, claiming the ‘scent of blood’ on me was too strong and made her nauseous. I spent that whole month drinking tea at the yamen gates—where was the blood coming from?”

Another colleague told a story about his ger spouse whose water broke on the day of delivery, but he insisted on eating sugar water from a shop that had been closed for two years. “I bought every bowl of sugar water in the west city, and he didn’t like a single one. He gave birth while crying and cursing me so loudly the neighbors thought I’d committed some unspeakable crime.”

After hearing these stories, Yang Tongchuan decided that whatever request Xiangxi made, it was undoubtedly reasonable.

“Who is this? Who did you draw?” Xiangxi threw a stack of sketches onto the floor.

Yang Tongchuan’s face turned beet red instantly. These were the “erotic drawings” he had made before they were married, back when he was so lovesick he couldn’t sleep.

“Where did you find those?” As soon as the words left his mouth, Yang regretted it, because Xiangxi started crying.

Xiangxi had been bored tonight and decided to tidy the bookshelf. While dusting the top shelf, he accidentally knocked down a stack of papers. He knelt down to pick them up, only to find detailed, intimate drawings of Yang Tongchuan with someone else.

Xiangxi was trembling. He knew Yang’s drawing style better than anyone; the brushstrokes couldn’t be faked.

“You’re shameless! Who is the person in these pictures? Are you… are you still together with them now?!” Xiangxi sobbed. The content was far too explicit. Xiangxi knew Yang had a high “appetite” in the bedroom, so he always worked hard to keep him satisfied. Why did it turn out like this? Was it because he had been unwell during the pregnancy and neglected him?

In just a few breaths, Xiangxi’s mind had already concocted a grand drama of Yang Tongchuan seeking flowers and willows (visiting brothels). The more he thought, the more wronged he felt.

“It’s a misunderstanding! There’s no one else!” Yang Tongchuan felt that if he didn’t fix this now, a disaster was imminent. He picked up one sketch titled ‘Galloping on Horseback’—the face in this one was drawn quite clearly.

“Look closely. Look at the silver bracelet on this person’s wrist. Doesn’t it look familiar? Isn’t it the one I included in your betrothal gifts?”

“I won’t look! It’s filthy!”

“How can it be filthy? I was drawing you!”