Chapter 18: Ninth Young Miss Is Too Pitiful

Chapter 18: Ninth Young Miss Is Too Pitiful

Not heeding Jiuchuan’s words, suffering was only to be expected.

Those who remained in the mourning hall, without exception, had yin energy invade their bodies. In the middle of the night they began to moan with feverish heat, and Lang Jiuchuan had people move them out.

In truth, such a trace of yin energy would not truly harm, yet in a funeral vigil, labor was already exhausting. After several days of keeping vigil, they ate only plain vegetarian food, their bodies weary and lacking strength. In the chill of winter, once yin energy seeped in, they naturally fell ill.

But in the eyes of the Lang family, this matter seemed strange and uncanny. After all, within the same mourning hall, the strong and hardy sons were the ones struck down, while the frail young girl who looked as though a gust of wind might topple her remained perfectly fine.

Most striking of all, she had warned them beforehand: the mourning hall was still thick with yin energy, remain there and yin would invade the body bringing misfortune or illness. And when all dismissed her words, she spoke a prophecy that came to pass.

“How is it that you are unharmed?” Lang Cailing could not restrain herself. Among those who fell ill was her own younger full-brother, Lang Caiyi. When he was carried back, their concubine-mother nearly fainted in fright.

Seeing Jiuchuan unharmed, remembering her earlier words, suspicion arose—had this girl done something crooked and unnatural?

Lang Jiuchuan rose, stretching lazily. Turning to the Lang family members who had returned to keep vigil, she pointed at her own face.

“Do I look unharmed to you?”

Though she possessed a thin thread of inherited merit to sustain her body, the places where this body was broken had not been mended or replaced. Her fragile life still teetered at the brink.

Look only at her face: pale with a bluish tinge, so bloodless that faint veins could be seen, even the blue vessels at her forehead stood out clearly. At a glance she was no healthy person. Even physicians had hinted that her constitution was so weak, without careful nurturing, she would not live long.

At that time, when those words were spoken, not only Wu Shi but the Patriarch himself had heard. Her birth-mother had also heard.

Yet when last night she insisted on remaining in the mourning hall to keep vigil, did anyone remember this, did anyone forcefully bring her away?

The answer, of course, was no.

Lang Jiuchuan did not truly mind, yet she could not help but feel grievance for the original owner, giving voice to indignation.

What a pitiful one indeed.

Lang Cailing looked at her pallid face, white enough to show the fine vessels beneath, her forehead’s blue veins standing out. She pressed her lips together, then sneered.

“Whose fault is it? Who told you to play at false strength?”

With that, she turned back and knelt again upon her straw mat, muttering under her breath.

“To truly keep vigil an entire night—her head must be filled with holes.”

Wu Shi entered, her face marked with weariness. Catching sight of Lang Jiuchuan, she immediately recalled the physician’s words from the day before. She hastened forward.

“Ninth Sister, you did not truly keep vigil through the whole night, did you?”

Alas, she had cast that matter aside completely. Yesterday, the physician had said this younger cousin’s body must be carefully nurtured. Later, when Lang Jiuchuan went to the Old Madam’s quarters, Wu Shi only arranged servants to tidy up. By dusk, her daughter’s wet nurse reported that the child had developed a fever, and she hurried to care for her. At night, more troubles arose, and she had to attend to her husband. In the midst of it all, she entirely forgot Lang Jiuchuan’s frailty.

Funeral matters were ever numerous. As the eldest grandson’s wife, she did not have a single moment to rest. In only a few days her own waist had grown thin. How could she still recall this recently-returned cousin of low presence? Only now, upon seeing that pallid face, did she remember what she had forgotten.

Heavens help her, would her image as the virtuous, gentle, gracious eldest sister-in-law crumble in a single day?

Wu Shi’s frantic thoughts, Lang Jiuchuan did not know. She only said:

“Filial duty has been done. Where is my courtyard?”

“Ah, I shall have someone take you there at once,” Wu Shi replied quickly.

“My thanks.”

Exiting the mourning hall, Lang Jiuchuan saw that the monks and Daoist priests had already begun sitting upon their meditation mats in a corner of the courtyard, preparing to recite scriptures.

Truly diligent.

She did not wish to remain in the mourning hall during the day precisely for this reason—she had no patience for those endless chants.

Cui Shi came from the opposite side. Seeing Jiuchuan’s complexion, her brows knitted, and her pale lips pressed together.

Lang Jiuchuan only inclined her head lightly, a greeting of sorts. At her side, Nanny Cheng saluted properly. Hearing that Jiuchuan was to return to her courtyard to rest, Nanny Cheng instructed Jianlan to go along and serve.

Lang Jiuchuan refused. Cui Shi’s face grew all the more unsightly. Without a word she continued into the mourning hall.

Nanny Cheng sighed inwardly.

“Madam, she is the only child of our Second Branch, her body so weak, yet you treat her with such harshness…”

Cui Shi turned her gaze upon her, and Nanny Cheng swallowed the rest of her words. Cui Shi entered the mourning hall.

Nanny Cheng could only sigh. She turned to Jianlan.

“Go after her. Whatever help can be given, do so. Do not neglect her simply because she shows a cold face. We of the Second Branch cannot rely on others for every matter.”

Jianlan hurried after.

“All stubborn bone cut from the same mold—how could she not be her mother’s daughter?” Nanny Cheng shook her head with a sigh.

“Mother and daughter who ought to lean upon one another, yet treat each other as enemies—what karma is this?”

The one spoken of, Lang Jiuchuan, sneezed. Rubbing her nose, she gazed at the courtyard before her. She clicked her tongue softly, pressing her tongue against the inside of her cheek.

The courtyard prepared for her lay somewhat remote, not far from Cui Shi’s Qichi Pavilion, facing south from the north. The orientation was decent, yet the courtyard’s fengshui was overly stagnant, lifeless, unfit for nurturing this fragile body of hers that might scatter at any time—not corpse, but body.

If her health was to improve, she must revive the qi of this place.

Lang Jiuchuan looked at those behind her. Besides Jianlan, there was a pair of twin maids, Da Man and Xiao Man.

“Since this is my courtyard, may I make requests?”

The twins exchanged a glance, yet before they could reply, Jianlan said:

“Whatever is lacking, Young Miss has only to speak. However, the manor is in mourning, busy with matters everywhere. It is not fitting to trouble the Young Madam or Madam with every request. If Young Miss requires something, you may tell this servant. This servant shall seek Nanny Cheng’s approval before sending it. Nanny said, Young Miss belongs to our Second Branch.”

In other words, she was under the Second Branch’s care.

Lang Jiuchuan’s eyes held interest.

“Anything I ask for will be allowed?”

“Of course,” Jianlan replied. “Yet in a time of mourning, one must not go beyond the bounds, lest others speak ill.”

“Then a few jade stones and the like should be harmless?”

Jianlan blinked.

“Does Young Miss mean jewelry?”

“Those, naturally, I wish for as well. But I delight in bright, gleaming things. Ornaments of jade will not do. Besides, am I not forbidden to wear them now?” Lang Jiuchuan said. “Just bring me several pieces of jade stone.”

Jianlan agreed.

At that moment, maids from Kangshou Courtyard delivered Lang Jiuchuan’s bundle. She took it, then instructed Da Man and Xiao Man to clear out some items in the courtyard. Afterwards, she entered her boudoir directly—she needed sleep.

Jianlan watched her figure disappear, then asked the Kangshou maid:

“Ninth Young Miss’s belongings are only that one bundle?”

“Yes.”

Jianlan fell silent.

Ninth Young Miss was the only child of the Second Branch. She ought to have been a cherished daughter of a marquis’s household, pampered and beloved. Yet who could believe it? Her sole luggage was a single bundle—coarse cloth wrapped, shabby and meager.

Her Young Miss was far too pitiful.

(End of Chapter)