Kays Translations

Chapter 5: Warmth Beneath the Hibiscus Curtain

Grandma Zhu fell silent for a moment before slowly speaking, “Eldest daughter-in-law, the family really doesn’t have any extra resources for Jun’er’s education right now.”

Aunt Wu wanted to negotiate further, but Uncle Zhu pulled her gently under the table and signaled with his eyes. Aunt Wu then reluctantly nodded in agreement.

Because Zhu Ping’an was young and short, he happened to catch sight of Uncle’s small gesture under the table and gained a deeper understanding of his uncle’s thoughts, realizing that his uncle was quite perceptive.

Yes—Eldest Uncle! The route to the private school in the neighboring village might be closed, but wasn’t there still Eldest Uncle? He had not passed the academy examination to become a xiucai, but he was well read. If Zhu Ping’an could learn characters from him, that would give him the cover he needed.

“Then can I learn from you, Eldest Uncle?” Zhu Ping’an raised his little face and asked.

Before Eldest Uncle Zhu could respond, Aunt Wu was already upset. “Little Pig, your uncle still has to prepare for the examinations. He already wishes there were twice as many hours in the day for reading. How could he have time to teach you? If you delay him from becoming a xiucai and someday taking top honors, can you bear the responsibility?”

In short, Aunt Wu had a face full of disdain! She looked very much like Wang Dachui’s mother-in-law.

“Wait until your uncle becomes a xiucai; then I’ll teach you,” Eldest Uncle Zhu said more pleasantly than Aunt Wu, but the meaning was the same: refusal. One was blunt and the other tactful, but the result did not change.

Even though he was still young, Zhu Ping’an had no intention of relying on Eldest Uncle for his education. He only needed a plausible reason to reveal his knowledge little by little.

If he waited until Eldest Uncle became a xiucai, it might be far too late. If what he had sensed earlier really was fortune, then Eldest Uncle did not look likely to pass soon. The white column above his head was a little denser than those of the others, but it was still white—the fortune of a commoner. To rise into officialdom would require blue fortune.

Zhu Ping’an silently criticized.

Although the food was not delicious, adhering to the principle that saving is honorable while wasting is shameful, Zhu Ping’an still ate his flatbread and the congee in his bowl completely clean, even licking the bowl a few times. After all, he was barely a little chubby.

Zhu Ping’an’s good appetite formed a sharp contrast with Zhu Pingjun, who was picky and choosy on the opposite side.

“Second daughter-in-law, give Little Pig another half-bowl of congee,” Old Master Zhu said. Although he favored the eldest and youngest households, he still cared for his grandchildren. Seeing Zhu Ping’an eat so heartily, he was pleased and did not want the child to go hungry.

At moments like this, Chen always looked rather proud.

As dinner was about to end, someone knocked on the door from outside, delivering a message from the town that Grand Uncle’s family would be moving to join their son who was doing business in the south, and they wouldn’t be able to come to pay respects to their ancestors during the New Year. Therefore, they would come to pay respects to the ancestral graves three days later before leaving.

Grandpa Zhu was the youngest of three siblings. His elder sister had married into a family in town, while his elder brother had gone to town as an apprentice when he was young and settled there after starting a family of his own.

Although they lived in different places, they would always meet during holidays or market days.

Now, upon hearing that his elder brother was moving to the south and would be hard to see again, Grandpa Zhu couldn’t help but feel sentimental. He sighed and went back to his room without finishing his meal.

After the old man left, Grandma Zhu, feeling worried, quickly went to comfort him, and everyone gradually dispersed, returning to their own homes.

The news of Grand Uncle’s family moving to the south didn’t greatly affect the rest of the family, except for Grandpa Zhu. After all, even though Grand Uncle’s family had a good relationship with them since moving to the town, they were not particularly close. At most, it would just mean one less place to stay when visiting the town.

The Zhu family courtyard was somewhat like a traditional Beijing siheyuan, though wider and more complicated. It consisted of a main house and two side wings around a courtyard with a well. The main house had three large rooms: the central room served as the main hall, one room belonged to Grandpa and Grandma Zhu, and the other housed Eldest Uncle’s family. Zhu Ping’an’s family lived in the east wing. The larger west wing was divided between Third Uncle’s and Fourth Uncle’s households. Near the entrance, against the courtyard wall, stood the kitchen and woodshed.

Under the bright moon and sparse stars, an oil lamp burned in the east wing, its flame no bigger than a bean and dimmer than the moonlight filtering through the window. The room contained nothing valuable, but Chen kept it clean and orderly, with everything neatly arranged.

Chen sat at the table sewing trousers for Zhu Ping’an by the dim light, while Zhu Shouyi sat nearby doing a little carpentry.

Biting through the thread, Chen laid the finished trousers beside Zhu Ping’an. “Try them on and see if they fit.”

“They fit! They definitely fit! Anything you make fits perfectly. You’re the best, Mom!” Zhu Ping’an grinned, laying the sweetness on thick. His protests had finally paid off: no more split-crotch pants.

“You little brat, all you know how to do is sweet-talk! I must have owed the three of you—your father and you two boys—in my last life!” Chen complained, though she could not hide her affection.

“Burning daylight and wasting lamp oil at night.”

Grandma Zhu passed the window, saw the lamps burning in the east and west wings, and muttered a complaint. In her eyes, her daughters-in-law were wasteful. If they had gone without lamp oil at night as before, the savings could have gone toward her eldest son’s studies.

“Alright, Mother. I’ll put out the lamp,” Zhu Shouyi answered at once.

“I still have clothes to mend!” Chen glared at her husband, who only grinned foolishly, leaving her with nowhere to vent her annoyance.

“Laugh, laugh, laugh! All you know how to do is grin like an idiot while your wife and children get bullied by your mother!” Unable to stand his meekness, Chen pinched him hard on the arm.

Zhu Shouyi was a sturdy farmer, and Chen’s pinch barely affected him. He kept wearing the same foolish grin, as if her anger had struck a wad of cotton, which only irritated her further.

“Marrying you is the worst luck I’ve had in eight lifetimes!” Chen huffed, jabbing a finger against Zhu Shouyi’s forehead.

“Then I must have accumulated eight lifetimes of virtue to marry a wife as good as you.”

Zhu Shouyi usually seemed like a dull, simple farmer, yet this reply was unexpectedly smooth, forcing Zhu Ping’an to revise his opinion of his cheap old dad. The man might be even more wooden than Guo Jing, but apparently he had his charming moments; otherwise, how could he have married a woman like his mother?

Chen’s face flushed. Shameless old fool—wasn’t he afraid of setting a bad example for the children?

Under the lamplight, Zhu Shouyi found himself momentarily entranced by the rare sight of his spirited wife looking bashful.

“Brother, I’m so sleepy.” Zhu Ping’an yawned and tugged his older brother, who was carefully weaving a bamboo basket, toward the little sleeping area partitioned off with wooden boards.

Uh-oh. What came next did not seem suitable for children.

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