Because of Li Mingshan’s illness, Old Madam Li hadn’t thrown Lu Wen out, providing for him and the child adequately. After all, it was Li blood. However, those country bumpkins who called themselves in-laws, referring to Li Mingshan as “son-in-law”, were another matter. A mere concubine’s parents had no claim to such titles. She’d always despised them. Last year, after Li Mingshan’s incident, she’d ordered the back-gate servants to bar their entry.
Lu Wen had nearly miscarried after being pushed during pregnancy, so the child was born frail. Though scheming by nature, he cared for the child. With his needs met, he focused on raising the weak child, too busy to even see Du Hehua again, only sending maids and servants out with gifts.
As for Du Hehua and Lu Daxiang, after their failed attempt to extort the Shen family last year - one left with a broken leg, the other a broken arm, they’d spent their last copper coins on medicine. Penniless and powerless, they’d stewed in resentment. Finally, Lu Daxiang, whose leg had healed enough to move, went to town to complain, hoping to get Lu Wen to intervene. But with Li Mingshan ill, Lu Wen didn’t dare bring it up with the Li family, brushing Lu Daxiang off with excuses.
Under Old Madam Li’s watch, Lu Wen couldn’t risk borrowing Li power against the Shen family - he didn’t even dare mention Shen Xuanqing, given their broken engagement, bringing it up would only shame himself, possibly earning him a reputation for treachery and social climbing. If Luo Hongchou found out, it’d be even worse. Though Old Madam Li had never spoken of it to him directly, he sensed she knew. He wouldn’t dare provoke the tiger.
Still, Du Hehua was his mother. He sent servants with money, food, and medicine to support her and Lu Daxiang. While furious at Shen Xuanqing for beating a woman, he also wondered - according to Lu Daxiang, Shen Xuanqing had stormed into their home, but why now, after a year or two of silence?
Only after the child was born did he learn the truth. When sending cloth to his parents, his servant discreetly inquired and reported back that his mother and stepfather had gone to the Shen family to extort them, hence the beating.
The servant tactfully avoided calling it extortion, but Lu Wen knew that's what it was. Humiliated and furious, he thought bitterly - hadn't they already severed ties with Lu Gu and the Shen family? Yet, they'd gone to them, of all people, to beg. Now, even the servant looked at him with disdain.
Fortunately, the servant Li Mingshan assigned him was loyal but dull, easily bought off with a few words and small favors.
The Shen family no longer concerned themselves with the Li family’s affairs, only hearing the occasional update from Luo Biao. Their little Lingjun was delicate and clever - they were too busy doting on him to spare a thought for others.
With plenty of rooms now, they could accommodate guests. After staying the night, Luo Biao left early the next morning with Shen Yaoqing and Shen Xuanqing, dogs in tow, for the mountains. They didn’t return until evening.
As the sun dipped west, Wei Lanxiang stood at the gate, chatting with Granny Miao next door. Usually, Shen Xuanqing hunted the nearer mountains in winter, returning by midday. His late return today worried her. She’d assumed three young men would be quicker.
When they finally appeared, carrying a wild goat on a pole, she understood - they’d gone deep, hunting bigger game.
The goat bore two arrow wounds: one fatal shot to the throat, the other a glancing hit to the belly from Luo Biao. His archery wasn’t as skilled as Shen Xuanqing’s, but hitting the mark at all was respectable.
Shen Yaoqing had shot two fat rabbits - one dead on impact, the other dying soon after. In this cold, skinned and left outside overnight, the meat would freeze solid, keeping for days. Now they could enjoy rabbit without slaughtering their own stock.
Shen Xuanqing hadn’t hunted the goat on a whim. In this bitter cold, mutton would nourish and warm them. Last year, he’d wanted to slaughter a goat for Lu Gu and the family, but Lu Gu’s pregnancy made him vomit at the smell. This year, though, a pot of fresh mutton stew would be perfect.
But they’d returned late, with darkness falling, so the mutton feast had to wait. Luo Biao had planned to leave that day, but with the goat, Shen Xuanqing persuaded him to stay another night.
Unexpectedly, the north wind howled overnight, and by morning, heavy snow blanketed the ground, still falling relentlessly.
Lu Gu, half-asleep, had heard the wind and pulled Lingjun into his own quilt. The child, familiar with his Amu’s warmth, slept soundly, his cheeks rosy, untouched by the cold.
Outside, the blizzard raged, snowflakes like goose feathers whipped by winds so fierce they stung the eyes. Without proper covering, the wind cut like knives, making ears ache with cold.
Heavy snow wasn’t unusual in the village, happening once or twice yearly. The snow wasn’t the problem, it was the relentless wind that made no one want to go out. Luo Biao, still at the new house, woke up laughing, telling Shen Yaoqing, “Well, even if I wanted to leave tomorrow, I couldn’t now. Guess I’ll owe the brothel manager a drink later.”
Despite the cold, Shen Xuanqing rose early to slaughter the goat. A hot stew was just the thing for such weather, and it’d be rude not to feed the guest with meat.
Lu Gu, wrapped in a badger-fur collar, stayed indoors with the child. Wei Lanxiang bundled up thoroughly, covering her head and ears, helping Shen Xuanqing in the kitchen.
Ji Qiuyue and Zhao’er had slept at the old house - not for propriety’s sake, but because Luo Biao’s thunderous snoring the previous night had been impossible to ignore. After one sleepless night, she’d gladly taken Wei Lanxiang’s offer to keep Zhao’er with her.
When Shen Yaoqing and Luo Biao braved the storm to arrive, thickly dressed but still chilled, they warmed themselves by the fire before helping Shen Xuanqing butcher the goat.
Fortunately, a large pot of hot water made the task slightly less freezing. Once done, Shen Xuanqing didn’t warm his hands by the fire - instead, he tucked them under the quilt warmed by tangpozi, enjoying the heat while playing with Lingjun, whistling to amuse him.
By noon, the mutton stew bubbled in the pot as the blizzard raged outside, the sky darkening.
The family and Luo Biao gathered in the main room, the stew kept warm on a clay stove. They feasted on large meat chunks and drank heartily, the alcohol and hearty meal banishing winter’s chill.
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