WBICDPH Chapter 70

Chapter 70: Weak in the Dark

Zhu Eryao was her parents’ only child. Her father had been blessed with a daughter late in life and cherished her dearly. Though their family was not wealthy, they never lacked food or clothing.

Their neighbors, the Zhou family, were very close to them. The Zhou family’s eldest son studied under Zhu Eryao’s father, who never accepted a single coin in tuition. Grateful, Mr. and Mrs. Zhou often sent over food and clothes. They were fond of Zhu Eryao as well, frequently bringing her fresh pastries and little trinkets, joking that one day she would grow up to become their daughter-in-law.

In Zhu Eryao’s memory, the couple always wore kind, gentle smiles. She liked them very much and loved visiting their home.

Brother Wencai from next door treated her well, too. When he didn’t have lessons, he would take her to lie in the fields under the sun. They would stretch out in the wheat, and Zhou Wencai would weave delicate little pinwheels for her. When the wind blew, the pinwheels spun with a soft whirring sound, carrying the scent of sunlight and ripening grain.

Zhu Eryao grew up carefree. Her only task was to enjoy each day happily. Her life seemed so smooth that one could see its ending at a glance. If nothing unexpected happened, she would live in that small village with her parents, and when she grew older, she would wear the wedding dress her mother had saved for her and marry Brother Wencai from the neighboring courtyard, living happily ever after.

But misfortune always arrives quietly, catching people off guard.

When Zhu Eryao was ten, the Zhou couple accompanied Zhou Wencai to Four Waters Town for his examinations. Her parents went along to buy supplies. That day, however, Zhu Eryao chose instead to go to the market with Auntie Zhuang from the village and did not travel with her parents.

She never imagined that, as she sat happily on Auntie Zhuang’s ox cart, waving goodbye to her parents on the road beside them, that fleeting moment would be the last time she would ever see them alive.

When she saw them again, they were lying cold and still in their coffins.

Zhu Eryao became an orphan. She cried beside the coffins until she nearly fainted.

Auntie Zhou told her that bandits had attacked her parents on their way back to the village and killed them. She said Zhu Eryao would not be alone; from now on, they would treat her as their own daughter. They would be her father and mother. Zhou Wencai also promised that, though her parents were gone, he would protect her in their place. When he earned official honors one day, he would marry her in a grand ceremony.

Zhu Eryao believed every word.

Her father had once said that Zhou Wencai was the most talented student he had ever taught. That proved true. At twelve, Zhou Wencai ranked first in the county examinations, and he continued to rise until he became the youngest top scholar in the empire.

Busy with his studies, he was rarely home. Zhu Eryao remained behind, caring for Uncle and Aunt Zhou. After finishing the housework and farm chores each day, if she had time, she would sit at the village entrance.

The wooden plaque reading “Double Happiness” had been written by Zhou Wencai himself. Zhu Eryao would sit on the large stone beneath it. When she missed him, she would look up at those two characters.

They were beautifully written. Back then, Zhou Wencai had practiced them over and over until he was satisfied, and she had sat beside him the entire time.

She loved the focused look on his face when he wrote. Even more, she loved it when he set aside his seriousness, smiling as he held up the wooden board to ask if it looked good.

Zhou Wencai was the gentlest person in the world.

Zhu Eryao had always believed that.

“Village Chief says Brother Wencai became the top scholar! I don’t really know what that means, but he told me it means you’re the very best scholar of all! That’s amazing! Now that you’re the top scholar, does that mean you’ll become a high official?”

In the early autumn fields, Zhu Eryao sat beside the long-absent Zhou Wencai on a dirt mound, just like when they were children.

Zhou Wencai folded a pinwheel and replied, “Perhaps. Even if I don’t become a high official, it doesn’t matter. What matters most is that I’ve earned this honor. Now I can marry you in a grand ceremony.”

Zhu Eryao’s cheeks warmed. She lowered her head and fiddled with the little pinwheel he handed her.

She wanted to say it wasn’t necessary.

Even if you weren’t the top scholar, even without honors, even if you were just an ordinary, poor scholar, I would still marry you.

But before she could speak, someone called her name from behind.

“A-Yao!”

She turned and saw Auntie Zhou standing with her hands on her hips, looking displeased. Zhu Eryao startled and glanced at the sky.

It had turned orange-red; it was already dusk.

“Oh no,” she cried, scrambling to her feet. “I forgot to make dinner!”

That evening, she prepared a large table of dishes. Yet the Zhou family’s table was too small for four people. Zhu Eryao sat on a low stool with a small bowl, positioned slightly lower than the others.

If she wanted a dish, she had to stand to reach it. To avoid annoyance, she mostly sat quietly, eating plain white rice.

Zhou Wencai noticed her discomfort and kept placing food into her bowl, even selecting the best piece of fish for her.

Before he could finish, Auntie Zhou slammed her chopsticks down.

“Are we eating or not? Is A-Yao incapable of serving herself? Why must you keep feeding her? This is your welcome feast! You’ve barely eaten a bite, and everything’s going into her bowl!”

Zhu Eryao quickly returned the chicken leg he had given her.

“I’m full. Brother Wencai, you should eat it. The chicken leg is the best part. You’re the one being celebrated. And… the chicken coop in the backyard is broken. I need to fix it. Just call me when you’re done—I’ll clear the dishes.”

She made excuses to leave, but Zhou Wencai suddenly grasped her wrist.

“Wait.”

He stood and said gently but firmly, “Father, Mother, A-Yao and I grew up together. Since we were children, you said I would marry her. Later, you told me to wait until I was older, then until I earned honors. Now I’ve come of age and achieved the highest rank. It’s time to fulfill my promise and marry her properly. I returned home not only to visit but for this matter. Please give your consent.”

Zhu Eryao’s heart pounded.

They waited for Auntie Zhou’s response. After a long silence, she said flatly, “We’re eating. Why bring this up now? A-Yao, didn’t you have something to do? Go on.”

The pounding in Zhu Eryao’s chest faltered and slowly quieted.

She lowered her eyes and gently freed her wrist from Zhou Wencai’s grasp. His arm remained suspended for a moment before he lowered it under his mother’s gaze and picked up his chopsticks again.

That night was cold. Zhu Eryao sat in the yard, weaving a chicken coop with hands chilled by the wind. Inside, voices rose in argument.

“When you were children, it was just a joke! How could you take it seriously? Have you studied so much that you’ve lost your senses? Don’t you know filial piety comes first? You’re the empire’s brightest star now! You could marry any fine lady. Why cling to some country girl? She’s not worthy of you—not even as a concubine, let alone a wife!”

Zhu Eryao listened absentmindedly. The sharp edge of a bamboo strip sliced her finger.

Bright red blood welled up. She wiped it away and blew warm air onto her cold hands.

After a moment, she pulled out the little pinwheel Zhou Wencai had made for her.

It seemed crushed, its head drooping weakly. No matter how she blew on it, it would not spin.

Another bead of blood surfaced at her fingertip.

She set the pinwheel aside and did not touch it again.

It hurt.

She was always afraid of pain.