Poisonous Peasant 'Concubine' Ch 44 - Hyacinth in Bloom

Chapter 44 — And Just Where Did This Wild Man Come From?

“Grandmother, please calm your anger. Second Uncle and Second Aunt are filial people; perhaps they were misled by someone’s instigation. We mustn’t make a spectacle of ourselves here and let the truly wicked hide in the shadows and laugh at us.”

Ling Xiaoying quietly drew her mother aside and leaned close to the Old Madam’s ear, whispering in a low voice. As she spoke, her gaze flicked meaningfully toward the wooden door that had remained tightly shut all along. The furious Old Madam started, a shiver running through her, and suddenly recalled what they had come here for today. Xiaoying was right—she should never have made a scene here to begin with. If there was to be a scene, it ought to be made at that bastard’s house, not here for others to mock.

“Let go!”

Having grasped this, the Old Madam—who moments ago had been gasping for breath with rage—now wrenched herself free from daughter and granddaughter alike, her voice full and forceful as she pointed at her son and daughter-in-law and roared, “Did you not say you never helped that bastard? Then we shall all go inside and see for ourselves!”

With that, she spun around and lunged toward the wooden door. Ling Jiang-shi and the other two hurried forward as well.

Bang, bang—

“Open the door, you damned bastard! Open up!”

“Ling Jingxuan, you unfilial, unbrotherly cur! Your grandmother has come and you still hide inside—are you trying to anger her to death? Open the door!”

“Open it!”

“Mother, please go back! Mother, I beg you! I won’t insist on dividing the household and living separately—will that satisfy you?”

“Ling Jiang-shi, you cannot do this!”

Seeing this, Ling Chenglong and his wife rushed forward in tears, crying out as they tried to stop them. Yet with the Old Madam present, they dared not truly lay hands on her. And in her towering rage, how could she possibly heed their pleas?

Inside the courtyard, the little bun who had been clutching his brother all this time could not help but tremble. The villagers all said his daddy was a demon; yet to him, the Old Madam outside was the true monster—a fearsome vengeful ghost.

Crash!

Amid the pulling and shoving, the rickety wooden door, already swaying on its hinges, could no longer withstand their brutal kicks and pounding. With a thunderous crash, it toppled to the ground, raising a heavy cloud of dust. Those inside and outside alike froze in shock; such an outcome was clearly beyond anyone’s expectation.

“Waaah—Brother—!”

With a wail, the little bun flung himself into his elder brother’s arms. Ling Wen, equally frightened, held him tight, his small mouth pressed into a thin line as he forced back the tears surging upward, glaring at those women as though they were evil spirits.

“Xiao Wen, Xiao Wu—my precious grandsons!”

Seeing the little one cry so pitifully, Ling Wang-shi came back to herself. She shoved aside Ling Jiang-shi and her daughter, rushed forward, and gathered the two children into her arms, tears streaming down her face. What sin had she committed in this life to encounter such a monstrous mother-in-law? Heavens above, was she truly determined to drive them to their deaths?

“Wuu… Grandmother, I’m scared—wuu…”

Buried in her embrace, Ling Wu sobbed even more heartrendingly. Ling Wen’s tears could no longer be held back either; they rolled silently from his eyes. His small fists clenched tightly. Not yet five years old, he understood for the first time the true meaning of the word hatred.

“Wailing at a funeral, are you? Who are you crying for? Where is that bastard? Tell him to come out—I’ll tear him apart!”

Seizing the moment her son faltered, the Old Madam violently shook him off and stormed into the courtyard, shouting at the two children. Their thin, frail bodies trembled. Ling Wu shrank deeper into Ling Wang-shi’s arms; his loud sobs turned into suppressed whimpers, all the more heartbreaking. Ling Wen, however, after staring at them for a long moment, straightened his small chest and firmly pushed his grandmother aside. Step by step, he walked forward and stood before the Old Madam.

“Daddy is not at home. You are not welcome here. Please leave.”

Tilting his head to look up at them, Ling Wen enunciated each word clearly. The small hands hidden behind his back trembled uncontrollably. It was not that he felt no fear—but he was the eldest son of this household, the man who would one day uphold the family gates. With Daddy absent, he must guard this home in Daddy’s stead and protect his younger brother. He could not allow them to run amok.

Yet he seemed to have forgotten his own tender age and frail body.

“Where did this mongrel whelp come from!”

Smack!

Ling Jiang-shi stepped forward and struck him hard across the face. The small body staggered back several steps before falling to the ground with a dull thud.

“Xiao Wen!”

“Don’t hit my brother! You wicked woman—don’t you dare hit my brother!”

Ling Chenglong and his wife were struck with alarm. Ling Wu forgot his fear altogether; crying and shouting, he rushed forward and shoved Ling Jiang-shi aside. Turning back, he stretched out his thin, trembling arms, trying to help his elder brother up, tears pouring down his face as though they cost nothing.

The boy’s gaunt little face swelled at a speed visible to the naked eye. Several bright red finger marks nearly covered half his cheek. Ling Chenglong and his wife wept as they patted him, hearts aching unbearably. Yet there was another whose heart twisted in pain as well—Yan Shengrui, who had tried several times to step out from the inner room, only to be driven back each time by splitting headaches. The moment he heard his son had been struck, the pain vanished as if swept away. Rising unsteadily to his feet, Yan Shengrui staggered forward.

“Mother, look—these are all new. Second Brother and Second Sister-in-law must have secretly given them money to buy these things!”

“Grandmother, there’s so much meat here, and they’ve bought plenty of grain too!”

“Mother, I found this on their bed—brand-new clothes, an entire bolt of cloth!”

The women showed not the slightest pity for the children. Ignoring the grandmother and grandsons huddled together in tears, they ransacked Ling Jingxuan’s house like bandits, dragging out everything he had purchased at the market that day. Ling Xiaoying even brought out the remaining half bowl of twice-cooked pork with wood ear mushrooms and two scallion pancakes.

At the sight of those goods, the Old Madam’s hatred deepened. She shot a vicious glare at her son, daughter-in-law, and the two little mongrels, and declared loudly, “Take it all back with us! Even if the Ling family’s things are thrown away, they shall not be given to that bastard!”

The Old Ling family was not wealthy, yet neither did they lack food or clothing. But the Old Madam was exceedingly selfish and miserly. Aside from the Old Master, she begrudged everyone—herself and even her most beloved daughter included. Though her words sounded righteous, the greed in her eyes betrayed her utterly.

“Yes, Mother.”

Ling Jiang-shi, clutching the brand-new farm tools and other items, swallowed at the sight of the half bowl of pork in her daughter’s hands. At the Old Madam’s command, all but Ling Chenghua—who held the bolt of cloth—moved again toward the kitchen and courtyard, intent on taking every last new item and measure of grain.

“Don’t take our things! Daddy worked hard to earn the money for those! Don’t take them!”

Ling Wen, ignoring the pain in his swollen face, struggled in Ling Chenglong’s arms, crying out. Through tear-filled eyes shone fierce distress. Their family had only just managed to acquire those belongings—they must not be stolen away.

“Wuu… you’re bandits! Don’t take our things! They’re ours!”

The little bun wept as if his heart were breaking, crying himself hoarse. Ling Chenglong and his wife held the boys tightly, fearing they would rush forward. If that happened, the ones to suffer would only be the children. Goods could be earned again; if a life were lost, there would be nothing left. Yet the ones seizing their possessions were their own closest kin—even acting under the command of his own mother. The pain in their hearts was no less than that of the two little ones.

“Stop!”

Suddenly, a man’s thunderous roar rang out. The “busy” women all froze, instinctively turning toward the source of the voice. Yan Shengrui stood leaning against the doorframe, his head wrapped in white cloth, sweat soaking his body, his face pale as paper. Yet his eyes were sharp and intimidating. Coupled with his naturally handsome features and the innate bearing unique to royalty, the unmarried Ling Chenghua and Ling Xiaoying both flushed at the sight of him.

“Father—? Wuu… Father, they’re taking our things!”

Seizing the moment while his grandmother stood stunned by Yan Shengrui’s sudden appearance, Ling Wu wriggled free from her embrace. Caring no longer whether he should or should not acknowledge him, he ran forward crying and clung to Yan Shengrui’s leg. Such is the instinctive bond between father and son.

“There, there. Don’t cry. Father will protect you.”

Awkwardly patting the child’s head, Yan Shengrui spoke stiffly in reassurance. The sharpness in his gaze suddenly turned blade-cold as it shot toward the Old Madam standing in the courtyard. Years of slaughter on the battlefield had etched killing intent into his very bones; it surged forth now, heavy and terrifying, suffocating in its intensity. The Old Madam stumbled back several steps in fright. Ling Jiang-shi trembled and edged closer to her. Ling Chenghua and Ling Xiaoying, however, flushed red and white by turns—his appearance and bearing had struck their maiden hearts, yet the child calling him “Father” crushed their hopes utterly.

“May I ask who this young master might be? We are—”

“Get out.”

Ling Chenghua, still clutching the bolt of cloth, stepped forward with what she fancied was elegance, her voice sweet enough to drip honey. Before she could finish, however, Yan Shengrui cast her a cutting glance that froze her where she stood. The blush drained from her face, leaving it deathly pale.

“And where did you come from, you wild man?” the Old Madam demanded, emboldened by her daughter’s humiliation, stepping forward to hold her while glaring at Yan Shengrui. “How dare you be in that wretch’s house?”

“Wretch?” Though he had heard the word countless times, Yan Shengrui still felt a stab of pain. His already terrifying gaze grew even more murderous. “No matter how base Jingxuan may be, he would never openly seduce a man. As for your daughter—hmph. A mere village girl, and she dares to think she could entice me?”

He did not lower his voice; on the contrary, he raised it. The villagers gathered at the gate burst into laughter. The Old Madam and her daughter’s faces turned livid with fury. Especially the Old Madam—wife of a licentiate scholar, keeper of all the household’s finances, accustomed to having every child under her thumb—when had she ever suffered such humiliation?

In truth, however, they were hardly wronged. Yan Shengrui was a royal prince, and the first in history to hold military command with illustrious victories to his name. A village girl—let alone seducing him—did not even have the qualification to stand before him.

Of course, this did not mean he had recovered his memory. If anything, it was instinct. A prince, even stripped of memory, remained a prince; what was carved into the bones from childhood could never truly disappear.

“Will someone tell me what is going on here?”

Ling Jingxuan’s cool voice sounded suddenly. He and Ling Jingpeng emerged from the rear courtyard. Clad in coarse cloth, Ling Jingxuan’s face was stern and cold as his gaze swept slowly over everyone present, finally settling on Ling Wen’s swollen cheek. A flash of killing intent—no less fierce than Yan Shengrui’s—flickered across his eyes. Ignoring all stares, he crossed the distance in swift strides and went straight to his son.

“Who did this?”

Squatting before him, Ling Jingxuan gently touched the reddened cheek and asked softly. His tone was indescribably gentle, yet to others it carried an eerie chill.

“Daddy… Daddy—! Wuu… you’ve finally come back, Daddy—!”

Ling Wen could endure no longer. Breaking down, he threw himself forward, his thin arms wrapping tightly around his daddy’s neck as he sobbed uncontrollably. Ling Jingxuan’s heart ached beyond measure; his arms tightened around the child.