The Lady Butcher and the Delicate Bride - Chapter 2

As expected, early the next morning, Mu Kongqing returned home treading on the morning dew. Anyone unaware would have thought the boy was studying in the county seat and missed his parents dearly, returning early just to catch a glimpse of them.

How could Mu Dingxiang not know her eldest brother’s temperament? If it weren’t for a lack of money, he wouldn’t want to come home at all for his monthly break.

Mu Mother kept his room spotlessly clean, yet every time he returned, he complained that the bedboards were too hard and uncomfortably bumpy. Hearing him say this so often, Mu Mother gritted her teeth and bought two loads of cotton to sew a thick mattress to pad the bed.

In contrast, Mu Dingxiang’s bed was spread with a layer of straw below and a tattered mat on top. Even her blanket was just a thin layer; every winter night felt exceptionally long to her.

When Mu Kongqing wasn’t home, his room was kept strictly locked. Mu Jueming had once snuck in to sleep for a night and was later scolded until his head spun.

It had to be admitted that Mu Kongqing was a man who knew how to maneuver and talk. He cherry-picked pleasant words to feed the Mu couple, acting filial and full of ambition. Anyone would think this young man had a limitless future. Mu Mother, having been served bowl after bowl of his “enchantment soup,” truly believed her eldest son would stand out one day—perhaps even become the Zhuangyuan (top scorer of the imperial exam). When that happened, she would be the mother of a Zhuangyuan; she’d see who in the village would dare look down on her then.

Every time Mu Kongqing returned, she would walk through the village twice with her chest puffed out, telling everyone she met, “Our Kongqing is back for his break today; his academy teacher praises his studies every single day.”

A few old sisters-in-law who had never gotten along with her saw her smugness and felt nothing but disdain. No one was willing to pay her any mind, and they gathered behind her back to whisper. Mu Mother had originally come out to show off, but with no one to play the supporting role, she felt deflated and slunk back home.

Hearing her eldest son say he wanted to eat meat, she gritted her teeth and went to the village entrance to buy five liang (ounces) of meat. Buying that meat was like cutting flesh from her own body; even one extra liang pained her to her very core. She could only constantly comfort herself: once her son became the Zhuangyuan, she would be the Zhuangyuan’s mother, and then she wouldn’t have to worry about a couple of ounces of meat.

Mu Dingxiang had headed out early to work in the fields. Mu Mother didn’t need to guard against her while cooking; she was primarily guarding against her fifteen-year-old, exceptionally gluttonous younger son, fearing he would eat the meat meant to nourish the future Zhuangyuan’s body.

At lunch, Old Man Mu didn’t return home, so it was just the three of them—mother and sons. Mu Mother pushed the small dish of meat entirely in front of Mu Kongqing. In the center of the table sat only a basin of wild greens. She kept a tight eye on her younger son, fearing his chopsticks might land in the wrong place.

Mu Jueming immediately felt dissatisfied. “We’re both your sons, is it right to be this biased?”

“You’re not a scholar, why do you need meat?”

“If you and Dad had been willing to spend five copper coins a month for me to attend the private school back then, maybe I’d be a Juren (successful provincial candidate) by now,” Mu Jueming said with a sneer.

Seeing this attitude, Mu Mother grew angry. “Your elder brother works hard at his studies and has a weak constitution. You do nothing all day, yet you still have the nerve to be picky.”

Mu Jueming looked at Mu Kongqing’s robust and powerful physique, which didn’t match the words “weak constitution” at all. But knowing the survival rules of this house, he gave a cold snort and stopped talking. He merely watched for an opportunity, snatched a piece of meat into his bowl, and ran off immediately. Mu Mother was so furious she chased after him, cursing loudly.

Watching this scene, Mu Kongqing felt a surge of disgust. If it weren’t for the monthly allowance, he wouldn’t want to return to this dilapidated house at all to hear his mother use such vulgar words to scold people everywhere. Even for these five ounces of meat, they fought like this; any casual meal he had in the county seat was better than this.

However, he was always smooth and knew how to please people. He smiled and pushed the small dish of meat to the center of the table. “Mother and Brother should eat together. The teacher said, ‘Sharing joy is better than enjoying it alone!’ The teacher also said to ‘honor the elderly and love the young.’ Mother and Brother must eat this meat together.”

When Mu Mother heard this, though she didn’t know what “sharing joy” meant, she assumed it was something good. She felt deeply gratified and carefully picked up a tiny piece, swallowing it down with her saliva. “You are a good child,” she said, still craving more. “It seems your teacher has taught you well. Your brother and I have tasted it; you eat the rest.”

Only then did Mu Kongqing act as if he had no choice but to finish the meat on the plate.

The academy in the county seat allowed two days of leave per month. To get the money, Mu Kongqing had to stay home for one night.

In the evening, when Old Man Mu returned, he surprisingly bought a jin (pound) of meat. Because the old man was there, the others weren’t as obvious about their greed as they were at noon, but shortly after it hit the table, the meat was gone. Old Man Mu looked at the plate that had become empty in the blink of an eye—he himself had barely gotten a few pieces. His brow furrowed, his face turned grim, and he said nothing. After finishing his meal, he silently returned to his room. Only the mother and two sons remained, heads down, shoveling rice.

By the time Mu Dingxiang returned home, it was already dark. She didn’t need to enter the kitchen to know no food had been left for her. Fortunately, as she passed the Wu family on her way back, Auntie Wu had stuffed a small ball of glutinous rice into her hand. The rice ball was mixed with some mung beans and a bit of lard; it had made her stomach feel full and distended, yet she still craved the taste now.

Mu Dingxiang ran into Mu Kongqing as he was walking out. She didn’t want to acknowledge him and kept her head down, heading straight for her room. One could say the primary source of the Mu family’s current financial hardship was the person in front of her. Every penny in the house was saved up to support his schooling, yet no one knew if he was actually studying seriously out there. However, none of this concerned her. Even if Mu Kongqing truly succeeded one day, it wouldn’t bring her any benefits. Moreover, from her observations, Mu Kongqing passing the exam to become a Xiucai (entry-level candidate) was merely a stroke of dumb luck; he simply wasn’t cut out for studying. If a person like this could become an official, then the Great Zhou dynasty was truly finished.

Seeing this sister whom he hadn’t crossed paths with in a long time, Mu Kongqing was surprised on one hand by how she had grown tall and transformed into a young woman, but on the other hand, he was irritated that she didn’t show him any respect as the eldest brother. He immediately put on his patriarchal authority and barked, “Why are you acting so sneaky? Where have you been fooling around so late before coming home?”

Hearing him use that tone and those words, Mu Dingxiang was so angry she laughed. “Where? Naturally, I was out earning money for my ‘dear elder brother.’ Otherwise, who does Brother think he relies on to study comfortably in the county seat?”

Mu Kongqing felt disgraced by this and said unpleasantly, “Shut your mouth! When have I ever spent your money? And how much money could a young girl like you possibly earn?”

“The five or six mu of family land are all tended by me. Isn’t the money from selling the grain every year given to you for your tuition? Dad has the strength to go out and earn your allowance because he eats the grain I grow. Tell me, have you spent my money or not?” Mu Dingxiang stared at Mu Kongqing with bright, piercing eyes, showing not a hint of cowardice.

Mu Kongqing hadn’t expected the sister he hadn’t seen in a long time to be so sharp-tongued, and the aura she carried was no weaker than the women in the city—completely different from his other two submissive older sisters.

Mu Mother happened to be walking by and heard their conversation. How could she stand to see her precious son being lectured by this little girl? She trotted over on her small feet, cursing and swearing, and unleashed a torrent of abuse at Mu Dingxiang.

“You wretched girl! Who does your elder brother work so hard for in the county seat? It’s for this family! Once he becomes the Zhuangyuan, our family will live a life of luxury. What does your little bit of farming count for now?”

Zhuangyuan?

If a man like Mu Kongqing could become the Zhuangyuan in this lifetime, the sun would rise from the west. Mu Mother could actually say such a thing without blushing; if outsiders heard it, they would laugh their teeth off. The word “Zhuangyuan” rolled around on the tip of Mu Dingxiang’s tongue, but in the end, she didn’t utter any biting words. At a time like this, it was better not to go head-to-head. Two against one—maybe even four against one—she would be the one to suffer in the end.

She immediately pulled back her sharpness and said tonelessly, “I suppose so. Then I shall wait for the day I become the sister of a Zhuangyuan.”

Mu Kongqing could naturally hear the sarcasm in her voice. His brow furrowed slightly, and anger flickered on his face. Unfortunately, his mother cut him off.

“A little hussy like you doesn’t deserve to be a Zhuangyuan’s sister, you’re not worthy—” She moved forward to hit her as she spoke.

Mu Dingxiang gave her no chance to succeed; she darted away and ran into her room, locking the door and shutting out the sound of the cursing.

Mu Jueming, who was lying on the bed with his legs crossed, saw her disheveled state and sneered, “You’re quite something, making Mom unhappy the moment you get back.”

“Likewise. Once your Zhuangyuan brother returns, you’re no longer the golden son of our parents,” Mu Dingxiang countered without hesitation.

“Zhuangyuan! Pfft—” Mu Jueming couldn’t help but chuckle. “Just say that inside the house. If word really gets out, I won’t be able to hold my head up in front of A-Liang and the others.” A-Liang was one of his “fair-weather” friends.

Mu Dingxiang ignored him. She didn’t mind having another person in the room to help share Mu Mother’s fire. Lying on the bed, her body felt exhausted. A day’s labor had drained most of her energy, leaving her no time to cut pig grass to earn a bit of pocket money. But she couldn’t neglect the field work; her current value lay in that land. If she stopped working now, her parents would immediately find someone to marry her off to.

Mu Dingxiang couldn’t help but sigh. Closing her eyes, she began to drift toward sleep, but a scene kept looping in her mind—specifically, a silhouette. It had been like this every day lately; the more anxious she felt, the more she yearned for it.

That person rode a tall, powerful horse, galloping down the country road. Her clothes and long ribbons were lifted by the wind, free and exhilarating, as if she could come and go as she pleased between heaven and earth without any restraints.

The Mu family’s fields were near the main road. Every time that silhouette sped past, it formed a sharp contrast with Mu Dingxiang, who was trapped in the muddy rice paddies.

She wanted so much to be like her—so free, so exhilarating, so wanton.

In truth, that person didn’t have any noble status. She was just a butcher who made a living slaughtering pigs. Mu Dingxiang knew her name.

Her name was Chu Yu.