Poisonous Peasant 'Concubine' Ch 48 - Hyacinth in Bloom

Chapter 48 — Ling Jingpeng’s Warning • Listen to your older brother!

After the commotion stirred up by the old Ling family, Ling Jingxuan once again became the talk of the village. Before nightfall, countless versions of the story had spread far and wide. Unlike in the past—when his name was always accompanied by curses and scorn—this time, quite a few people were whispering in secret about the old madam of the Ling household and her overbearing, unreasonable ways.

Even though not long after, Ling Qiyun made a great show of sending Ling Chenglong to deliver ten jin of white flour, ten jin of rice, and even two jin of freshly cut pork to Ling Jingxuan, the scandal of Old Madam Ling barging into someone else’s home with her daughters-in-law and daughter, forcing a dutiful son and his wife into rebellion, still gave the villagers plenty to gossip about.

On Ling Jingxuan’s side, things were markedly different as well. For five years, whenever his name was mentioned, it was paired with words like “demon” and “wretch.” The villagers had bullied him as they pleased, scolded and struck him at will, their gazes forever laced with disdain and contempt. But after this incident, when they spoke of him, there was now a glint of unmistakable fear in their eyes.

The sight of Ling Jingxuan publicly striking his own third aunt by marriage, of retaliating against the entire Ling clan, had carved an indelible shadow into the villagers’ hearts—especially the eerie moment when Ling Chenghu was thrown to the ground before he had even come near him. Those who had witnessed it firsthand could not help but shudder whenever they recalled it. Though they were now even more convinced that he was some sort of monster, none dared voice it aloud—much less curse him to his face.

Yet all of this seemed to have little to do with Ling Jingxuan himself. The disturbance had compressed what little time they had. The two brothers worked until nearly midnight before finally finishing one hundred jars of fruit jam. They even forgot Yan Shengrui’s nightly medicine; it was the two little buns who brought it over.

Perhaps because Yan Shengrui had protected them, the children’s attitude toward him had clearly softened. Da Baozi remained somewhat awkward, yet no longer bristled at every word, while the Xiao Baozi—innocent by nature—had completely forgotten the warnings from his father and elder brother. He hovered around Yan Shengrui the entire evening, sometimes playing tricks, sometimes peppering him with curious questions. Before long, father and son had grown thoroughly familiar with one another.

In the deep of night, Ling Jingpeng—who had stayed over because the jam-making had gone so late—lay upon a pile of straw in the corner. His dark, lean body, healthy despite its thinness, was clad only in white under-trousers; his upper body was bare, a thin outer robe casually draped over his stomach.

Five years ago, he had been only nine—too young to do anything even if he had wished to. Now it was different. Out of filial duty he dared not speak against the old Ling family, but if any outsider sought to bully his elder brother again, he would no longer swallow his anger in silence.

“I do not care who you are, nor how noble your status may be. If you dare bully my elder brother again, I will stake my life against yours.”

Across the room, under the faint wash of moonlight, Yan Shengrui cast him a glance and replied in a low voice, without the slightest trace of anger, merely stating a simple truth:

“Come speak to me about such things when you possess the strength to back them.”

At fourteen, Ling Jingpeng might be considered grown, yet before Yan Shengrui he was no more than a child. His threat was like children playing house—utterly without force.

“I will,” Ling Jingpeng answered.

His dark eyes, nearly blending into the night itself, flashed with unwavering resolve. His fists clenched upon the straw. Not only for his elder brother, but also for his father and mother, his second brother, and his two young nephews—he would grow strong for them, until one day no one could ever harm or oppress them again.

What Ling Jingpeng did not know was that those trained in martial arts could see clearly even at night. By the faintest moonlight, every flicker of expression in his eyes had been captured by Yan Shengrui’s keen gaze.

In response, Yan Shengrui merely smiled faintly and offered no further comment. To protect Ling Jingxuan and the two children was both his wish and his resolve. Even should he one day recover his memories and recall his former life, he would never abandon the desire he held at this moment.

At dawn the next day, Ling Jingxuan rose as early as ever. After circling the courtyard several times as part of his routine exercise, he found that Ling Jingpeng—also an early riser—had nearly finished preparing breakfast.

“Brother, why are you all running about so early?” Ling Jingpeng asked in confusion, watching as the younger bun, just risen from bed, immediately began running laps around the courtyard as well. “Aren’t you hot?”

“Heh… just strengthening the body. After running, Xiao Wen and the others will practice Tai Chi for a while. If you’re interested, have them teach you. We’ll eat once we return.”

Taking the cloth towel handed to him, Ling Jingxuan wiped the sweat from his brow as he walked toward the handcart set in the courtyard. Four large wooden barrels had already been secured upon it.

“No need, Brother. I’ll go with you.”

Fearing he might struggle to pull the cart alone, Ling Jingpeng stepped forward. But Ling Jingxuan paused, turned back with a faint smile, and said, “I’ll manage by myself. If you’re truly idle, help Jinghan decoct his medicine and deliver it.”

He had no wish for his brother to discover the matter of Crescent Spring. It was not a question of trust; rather, he felt there was no need. If pressed for a reason, it was the same as why he had not told the little buns—some burdens were better borne by one person alone.

“Very well. Don’t catch too much,” Ling Jingpeng relented. “Isn’t someone coming today to collect the jam? It wouldn’t do if neither of us were home.”

He did not insist further. His elder brother was important—but so was his second brother. He too hoped his second brother’s illness would soon be cured.

“I know. Xiao Wen, don’t run too long. You still have your boxing practice afterward.”

Pulling the wooden cart out through the gate, Ling Jingxuan happened to see the two little buns darting out from around the corner. Behind them trailed the two wolf cubs usually tethered in the backyard. As expected, the moment the cubs caught sight of him, they bared their teeth and howled, bristling as though they longed to pounce and tear him apart.

Each time, he could not help but feel awkward. When would these two little beasts finally forget that he had slain their mother?

“Ah, Daddy, you’re going to catch fish again? Don’t go too deep into the water!”

“Daddy!”

Da Baozi, as always, fussed like a little old man. The wound on his face had improved greatly under Ling Jingxuan’s medicine and the water from Crescent Spring. Xiao Baozi, by contrast, rushed forward joyfully and wrapped himself around his daddy’s leg.

Both boys looked up at him, showing two small pearly front teeth. Their identical little faces were damp with sweat from prolonged running, yet their smiles showed not a trace of fatigue. After several days of keeping up with the morning runs, they had gradually grown accustomed to—and even fond of—this daily exercise.

“Mhm. The swelling has gone down. After you finish running, remember to apply the medicine.”

Ruffling Xiao Baozi’s hair and gently touching Da Baozi’s still slightly reddened cheek, Ling Jingxuan once more grasped the handles of the cart.

The two boys nodded obediently. Only after watching their daddy disappear from sight did they resume running. The wolf cubs frisked at their sides. Under the bright light of the rising sun, the two children and the two young wolves circled the courtyard again and again, tireless. Sweat soaked their garments, yet it could not dampen their will—rather, it strengthened their growing bodies little by little.

The previous day, after bringing Old Madam Ling and the others back, Ling Qiyun had not gone to the private school nearby. Instead, he sent the eldest grandson of the main branch, Ling Jinghong, to summon the children home.

When Ling Chenglong and his wife returned, the old master, in their presence, ordered his eldest son, Ling Chengcai, to escort the old madam back to her maiden home. Though in the end—after much persuasion from the sons and grandchildren—she was not truly sent away, just as Ling Chenglong had predicted, the matter of dividing the household and living separately quietly came to nothing.

Back in their own room, Wang-shi could not stop wiping away tears. They had known full well that the old master had dug a pit and waited for them to leap into it—and yet they had had no choice but to jump. The others had suffered nothing more than a scolding. Not the slightest real punishment had been dealt.

All along, they had believed the old madam to be biased, and the old master merely indifferent. Now it seemed his heart, too, leaned to one side.

“Mother,” Ling Jinghan had said at last, soothing her, “people’s hearts are never impartial. After so many years, we should be used to it. At least Elder Brother and the others are unharmed—let us leave it at that. If my illness can truly be cured, I may sit for the imperial examinations. Should I obtain a degree, no one in this household will dare bully us again.”

Filial piety weighed upon them like a mountain. What else could they do? The ones oppressing them were their own parents.

When Ling Jingpeng returned to the old Ling residence carrying two medicine jars, the eldest aunt—Li-shi—who had not shown herself the entire previous day, greeted him warmly as though nothing at all had happened.

Madam Li was the old madam’s own niece. She was ever adept at currying favor, treating her sisters-in-law with the broad-minded virtue expected of an eldest daughter-in-law, and showing gentleness and kindness before the younger generation.

Yet Ling Jingpeng had never liked her. It was not that he was particularly clever or capable of seeing through her benevolent mask. Rather, once by chance he had overheard her complaining to his uncle that their second branch was spending far too much silver on someone doomed to die. From that day on, he had kept his distance.

“Good morning, Eldest Aunt.”

Unmoved by her warmth, Ling Jingpeng gave a perfunctory nod and carried the medicine jars straight into their quarters.

“Bah! What is he acting for?” Ling Chenghua’s voice rang out behind him, sharp with disdain. “Sister-in-law, pay him no mind. Just a freeloading little bastard who doesn’t know how to appreciate a good face!”

Ling Jingpeng remained unmoved. He closed the door, shutting out the grating voices along with it.

“Jingpeng, you’re back? At this hour you should be going to Jingxuan’s place to fetch the fish. Why have you come back instead?”

At the sight of her son, Wang-shi—who, out of resentment, had for the first time failed to rise early to do the household chores—hurriedly set aside the cloth with which she had been wiping the table and went forward to meet him. Ling Chenglong, seated cross-legged to one side, also looked at him in puzzlement.

“Elder Brother asked me to bring Second Brother’s medicine,” Ling Jingpeng said, lifting the jars in his hands. He poured two bowls and carried them to the bedside. “Second Brother, how did you feel after taking Elder Brother’s prescription yesterday? Any improvement?”

Ling Jinghan propped himself up and accepted the bowl with a faint smile. “How could it work so quickly? Still, I coughed far less last night, and this morning I could speak without much coughing. It should be having some effect.”

Compared to his parents and brothers, he had long since learned not to place too much hope upon his own illness—lest the disappointment later prove too cruel.

“It will definitely work!” Ling Jingpeng insisted, sitting excitedly at the edge of the bed. “You don’t know—Elder Brother’s medical skills are excellent. Yesterday, the prescription we drank to prevent the plague was written by him. He even earned ten taels of silver from it! Second Brother, just rest and recover. I believe Elder Brother will surely cure you.”

At this, Wang-shi and Ling Chenglong exchanged startled glances and stepped closer. Even Ling Jinghan, who had been drinking his medicine, paused and lowered the bowl.

“What did you say?” Wang-shi asked. “Wasn’t it said he happened to encounter someone with plague and purchased the remedy? How did it become his own prescription?”

Plague was no ordinary ailment. Whenever it swept through the land, even famed physicians were left helpless. How could Ling Jingxuan write a preventive formula? Was his skill truly so profound?

“I don’t know the details,” Ling Jingpeng admitted. “I heard it from Xiao Wen. But Elder Brother’s medicine is truly good. Second Brother’s illness will certainly be cured. Once you’re well, perhaps you can sit this year’s county examination. Next spring, pass as a Xiucai. Then in the autumn examinations become a Juren. And in the metropolitan examination, attain Jinshi and enter officialdom. Our good days will finally come!”

The more he spoke, the more radiant his vision became, as though he already saw his second brother’s triumphant success. Ling Chenglong and his wife, too, forgot their earlier doubts and allowed smiles to bloom. If such a future could be realized, then their long endurance would at last bear fruit.

“You dream beautifully,” Ling Jinghan said with a helpless laugh, tapping his younger brother’s forehead. “Do you think the imperial examinations are so easily passed? Have you not seen how many years Grandfather has tried without advancing further?”

Ling Jingpeng wrinkled his nose and muttered, “Just because he couldn’t pass doesn’t mean you won’t. Who knows? Perhaps you will.”

Aside from his eldest brother, it was this second brother whom he admired most. Perhaps because he had spent so long bedridden, his scholarship surpassed that of anyone in the household—even the old master. Only his frail body had prevented him from entering the examinations.

“Enough. Those are matters for the future.” Ling Jinghan gently steered the conversation elsewhere. “About yesterday—when Father and Mother proposed dividing the household—did Elder Brother say anything?”

Of them all, he knew best that the one who most desired separation was this very younger brother. As early as the year their eldest brother had been cast out—when they were but nine—he had sensed that Jingpeng had already begun contemplating such a course.

Ling Jingpeng’s shoulders drooped. “No. Elder Brother only said that yesterday’s opportunity was not sufficient, and that we must wait.”

He could not help feeling dejected. Had it not been a fine chance? Why was it still not enough?

Ling Chenglong and Wang-shi were troubled as well. When matters remained unspoken, people could muddle through, pretending ignorance. But once laid bare, the days ahead would surely grow harsher.

After a moment’s silence, Ling Jinghan stroked his chin and said thoughtfully, “I think Elder Brother is right. Yesterday truly was not enough. If Grandfather had agreed to let us separate, would it not have confirmed that Grandmother had abused her authority as an elder to oppress her son and daughter-in-law? That would damage the Ling family’s reputation. Grandfather would never consent. You saw his actions yesterday—he and Grandmother have shared decades as husband and wife. They are your own parents. Could you truly have watched her be sent back to her maiden home?”

He paused before continuing, “Even if Elder Brother had not restrained us, matters would have ended the same way. Let us heed him and wait. Perhaps a greater opportunity will soon arise.”

He had the faint impression that their eldest brother already possessed a plan—one simply not yet revealed.

Ling Chenglong and his wife looked at one another and sighed in unison. “If you say so, then we shall wait,” Wang-shi said softly. “Jinghan, drink your medicine. We ask for nothing now but your recovery. So long as you three brothers are healthy, your father and I could endure a lifetime here.”

What else could they do? They could hardly brandish blades and force their parents to divide the family—that would be the height of unfilial conduct.

“I will listen to Elder Brother and Second Brother,” Ling Jingpeng said at last. Though still not entirely reconciled, he felt somewhat relieved after Jinghan’s explanation. By the time he left with the medicine jars, nearly half an hour had passed.

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Translator: LazyHermitGal