Chapter Ninety-One: Wife? Mother?

Lady Zhao wore a wicked grin as she pulled Yun Hao by the hand, chattering on and on. She pointed and gestured at the memorial tablet for Yun Hao’s father, and if the old man had somehow been alive to see it, he would surely have been driven half to death. Laughing and crying in turns, Lady Zhao was helped to the inner quarters by Yuan'er and Xin'er. The matchmaker escorted Yun Hao to the bridal chamber door and then took her leave as well. With no one else to rely on, Yun Hao could only go in by himself.

“You’re back?” Zhang Miaoke lay lazily on the bed, already changed out of her wedding robe and into a silk nightdress. Her fair bosom showed through the gauze, and beneath the close-fitting undergarment one could faintly make out the firm shape of her breasts and the beginnings of a graceful valley.

Yun Hao swallowed hard. His throat felt dry, perhaps because his body was producing too much saliva. He hated this body with all his heart. If only he were seventeen now, how wonderful that would be.

His sense of age had become oddly blurred. By rights, his mental age should have been well over sixty. Yet after crossing into this world, he had found his temperament drifting strangely toward that of a mischievous child. There were things he used to refuse to say or do even at the cost of his life. But now he could actually say them, and do them too. More often than not, Yun Hao felt as though he had become some vulgar little rogue. Heaven help him! In his last life, he had been a model honest man.

“Come here.”

Zhang Miaoke sat up, her long hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall. Good heavens, what a torment. That snow-white shoulder against that dark hair was such a sharp contrast it made one’s heart ache. Her drowsy beauty, the flickering candlelight—Yun Hao bitterly resented the fact that he was only seven years old.

His feet no longer seemed his own. As if under a spell, he walked toward the bed. Zhang Miaoke drew him close, lowered her delicate nose, and sniffed at him. Then she slipped off to the floor and put on her slippers, fetched hot water from the silver pitcher, and poured it into a bronze basin.

“You smell like a brewery. You’re practically a stinking little thing. If you don’t wash yourself properly from now on, you’re not getting into my bed.”

As she spoke, she adjusted the water and peeled off Yun Hao’s shoes, stuffing those little feet into the basin.

The water was a bit hot, but still perfectly bearable. Zhang Miaoke’s hands were soft as she gently scrubbed his feet. If he lowered his head, he could see the two crimson points hidden in her undergarments. His lower stomach warmed slightly, but his little brother still showed no response. Once again, he deeply hated the fact that he was only seven years old.

A warm cloth brushed over his face, pulling him out of his dazed reverie. Zhang Miaoke had already changed the water, and he did not know when his clothes had been removed. Her hair was loose, and she wore only a belly-wrap. His little thing was not even as big as a thumb. Zhang Miaoke wrung out the cloth and carefully wiped him down, even giving him a little touch.

The wedding night was supposed to involve many formalities, but everyone knew the truth. Nothing would happen tonight. If the bride were still a virgin by tomorrow, that would be the real scandal. The wedding attendants and maids had long since been sent away by Zhang Miaoke, and beneath the swaying red candles there were only Yun Hao and Zhang Miaoke left.

The young woman smelled wonderful, carrying the fresh scent of youth. It entered the nose as fragrance, yet settled in the heart as sweetness.

Yun Hao’s small hands clutched Zhang Miaoke’s waist tightly. He wanted to explore higher or lower, but did not dare. Not because he was timid, but because he knew it would only bring needless trouble.

Zhang Miaoke, however, was perfectly at ease. She tapped Yun Hao’s nose with her slender fingers, then brushed his cheek with a kiss as light as a dragonfly skimming water. “From now on, you are my man, Zhang Miaoke’s man.” It sounded as if she were speaking to him, yet also like a dreamy murmur to herself. She gave a long yawn, patted Yun Hao on the back as though soothing a child, and closed her eyes.

Such things were always this way: the one doing the soothing usually fell asleep before the child did. The red candles still flickered, yet Yun Hao could not fall asleep for a long time.

So this was my wedding night? I’m married now, just like that? I’m only eight years old—wouldn’t what that girl just did count as indecent assault of a minor...!

He did not know when he finally fell asleep. All he knew was that when he opened his eyes, the sky outside was already bright, and the paper on the latticed window glowed white with morning light. It must be a fine day outside.

Zhang Miaoke was nowhere to be seen. If the red candles had not still been burning, Yun Hao would have thought last night had all been a dream. There had been no conversation on the wedding night at all—just washing his feet and wiping him down, then sleep. This bride felt more like a mother than a wife.

Spring brought drowsiness, autumn brought fatigue, summer brought dozing—yet though he possessed primal strength, he had no courage to get out of bed. Yun Hao clung to the blanket and lazed around on the mattress. But human patience had its limits. Still wearing only his belly-wrap, he dashed from the bed, gave the chamber pot a furious barrage, shivered twice, then ran back under the covers with his bare little feet. It was already autumn, and the morning air was biting cold.

“The sun’s already on your little backside. Hurry up and get up to pay respects to Mother!”

He did not know when Zhang Miaoke had come in. Her hands were a little cold. As she slipped them under the blanket, Yun Hao shrieked in protest from the chill.

“I don’t want to get up. Let me sleep a little longer.”

Even Yun Hao was shocked by his own shamelessness. All those years in his former life seemed to have gone straight into a dog’s belly. He could never have imagined that he would truly start acting like a child. Could it be that the soul of this body was quietly changing his personality?

“Be good. I made you crab-roe soup dumplings. If you don’t get up, they’ll go cold and won’t taste good.”

Zhang Miaoke’s ability to switch roles so quickly was equally astounding. She could move seamlessly between wife and mother, with neither transformation nor disguise, no need even for a phone booth and costume change. One turn and the role was complete. Yun Hao admired that skill to the point of worship.

Since he could not eat Zhang Miaoke’s steamed buns, soup dumplings were not bad at all. Standing on the bed with his arms spread wide like a coat rack, he let Zhang Miaoke dress him.

Ever since Yun Hao had made the large round table, the separate serving of meals had vanished completely from the Yun household. The three of them sat around the round table together, and Zhang Miaoke wore the hairdo of a married woman. She respectfully bowed to Lady Zhao, who received the greeting with a face blooming like a chrysanthemum. At an age of only twenty-six or twenty-seven, she would not even count as an old maid in later times. Yet now she had already become a mother-in-law.

Smiling brightly, she accepted the young couple’s bows. But when she took the white handkerchief from Zhang Miaoke’s hand, a faint sadness crossed her face. No matter how capable and clever her son might be, it could not change the fact that he was not yet eight years old.

Sure enough, there were soup dumplings, and when he bit into one, it was indeed filled with crab roe. Crabs existed in Jinyang too. Yet almost no one dared to eat them, and poor households only occasionally gathered some during years of famine. Yun Hao did not care. These bumpkins had no idea what such crabs sold for in later generations. For ordinary wage earners, unless it was a holiday or a festival, they would not even dare ask the price.

Just as he picked up a dumpling, he saw Nannan crossing the courtyard with red-rimmed eyes. She seemed about to say something to Yun Hao, but the moment she noticed Zhang Miaoke, she darted aside like a mouse seeing a cat.

Hm? What happened to Nannan?