Riding the Long Wind – Chapter 6

Chapter 6

When the news of her confinement reached Liu Yuru, she was genuinely surprised.

Zhang Yue’er had never been kind to her, but for Liu Xuan’s sake, she had always kept up the performance of a warm and dutiful stepmother figure. She was a concubine, but she had never let herself look like one in terms of conduct or dignity. Over the years she had never gone out of her way to help Liu Yuru, but she had never actively restricted her either. To confine her to her rooms over something as trivial as a run-in with Gu Jiusi was out of character enough to give Liu Yuru pause.

Zhang Yue’er’s maidservant Gui Xiang seemed to read the confusion on her face, and offered a smooth explanation with a smile. “Miss Liu, please do not blame Concubine Zhang. She said that you are at a different stage in life now than you once were, and that confining you is her way of showing the world that the Liu household upholds strict standards. It is all for your reputation’s sake. She hopes you will understand.”

What Gui Xiang said was perfectly reasonable, and if Liu Yuru had not known Zhang Yue’er’s nature through and through, she might almost have believed it. But she knew that Zhang Yue’er never did anything without a reason that served herself, and this sudden apparent concern for Liu Yuru’s wellbeing made her uneasy. She kept her expression settled, accepted the punishment without argument, and saw Gui Xiang off. Then she went to her room, picked up her needlework, and sat with Yin Hong in the small courtyard to embroider.

Yin Hong was forthright by nature. She tilted her head, puzzled. “What do you suppose has come over Concubine Zhang? She is suddenly acting as though she genuinely has your interests at heart.”

Liu Yuru’s needle paused mid-stitch. She thought it over, and finally said: “She is probably worried something will go wrong with the Ye family engagement before it can be properly confirmed.”

After all, her marriage was, to Zhang Yue’er, a matter of money. Liu Yuru had no brothers. Everything in the Liu household would one day pass to Zhang Yue’er’s sons. So all these years, Zhang Yue’er had watched Liu Yuru quietly working toward a good match and had never once interfered, because a good match meant generous betrothal gifts, and generous betrothal gifts meant more silver flowing into the household.

With no conflict of fundamental interests, they had maintained something almost like an alliance, and the inner quarters of the Liu household had stayed, on the surface at least, quite harmonious. Liu Yuru had always understood this. She also understood that in a household where her mother had produced no son, the only way to ensure her mother was treated well was to marry well herself.

If she made a good match, Zhang Yue’er would keep up appearances for her sake.

For a woman, birth was the first life you were dealt, and it determined everything before marriage. Marriage was the second life, and it determined everything after. Liu Yuru believed this with her whole heart. It was why, from the time she was old enough to understand it, she had spent every day and every night, with all the careful thought she possessed, working toward one thing: a good marriage. And now she had finally reached it. Perhaps that was why Zhang Yue’er had shifted her tone.

That thought settled something in her chest.

She finished embroidering a pair of mandarin ducks, and found her eyes starting to ache. She set down her needlework, went inside, and reached for a book.

“Another book, miss?” Yin Hong asked, a little bewildered.

“On my last visit to the Ye household,” Liu Yuru said quietly, turning the pages, “Ah Yun mentioned that Master Ye had read this one before and was very fond of it. I should keep up. We will need things to talk about.”

Yin Hong sighed. “Miss, you have thought so far ahead that you are practically a scholar already. All for the sake of having something to say to Master Ye.”

Liu Yuru smiled and said nothing.

She looked down at the book, a collection called Notes on Little Stone Mountain, and turned it in her hands. From the moment she had decided to marry Ye Shi’an, she had been gathering information about him through Ye Yun. Ye Yun knew what her friend was hoping for, and as her closest companion had hidden nothing. What books Ye Shi’an had read, what things he liked, Liu Yuru knew all of it. Over the years, she had read the same books he had read, learned the four arts, composed a handful of poems that would not embarrass her in educated company, and even practiced his style of running script until her own resembled it closely.

She had made all of this effort in silence, and waited for the day she could put it to use.

When you invest in something long enough, and pour enough of yourself into it, you begin to mistake the investment for feeling. She and Ye Shi’an had barely exchanged a handful of words. He had left for the White Egret Academy at thirteen, and every impression she had of him came from before that age. And yet somehow, somewhere in the years of preparation, she had come to feel as though she must, surely, be fond of him.

She had never once imagined marrying anyone else.

She sat with the book open in her lap, trying to picture Ye Shi’an reading these same pages, wondering what he might have thought. When she finished and set it aside, she looked up at Yin Hong with a small frown. “When do you think Master Ye will come home?”

“Soon,” Yin Hong said warmly. She dropped her voice and added in a whisper: “Soon, and coming straight back to marry you!”

“Do not say such things!” Liu Yuru pushed her lightly, though her smile did not falter. She let herself be a little freer in private, and Yin Hong knew it. The two of them laughed and teased each other for a while before Liu Yuru washed up and went to bed. She lay on her back in the dark, looking at the book on the table beside her, and before she drifted off she heard herself murmur: “Master Ye, please come home soon. This one life of mine, I am counting on you.”

Then she pulled the book into her arms and held it close, as though she were holding fast to everything she had ever hoped for.

The next morning Liu Yuru rose as usual. She practiced her calligraphy for a while, copying out a few pages from her model book, until sounds of commotion drifted in from outside. She frowned slightly and said to Yin Hong: “Go and see what is happening.”

Yin Hong went out, but came back almost at once. “Miss, the guards posted outside say you are confined to your rooms. They are saying I cannot come and go freely either. One of them has gone to find out more. He will report back shortly.”

Liu Yuru nodded. An unease she could not quite name had been sitting with her since she woke up. A little while later, breakfast was brought in. Liu Yuru turned to the servant who had delivered it and said: “Would you please let Concubine Zhang know that I would like to visit my mother, and ask whether she will permit it.”

The servant went off to relay the message. Yin Hong looked at her. “Miss, why not eat something first? By the time you are done, we may have heard back.”

Liu Yuru knew this was sensible. There was no use panicking before she even understood what was going on. She made herself eat, quietly and with composure, and then settled in to wait.

But she had barely sat down before a thick, unexpected wave of drowsiness washed over her. It came on so suddenly and so completely that it unsettled her. She said, blinking: “Yin Hong, why am I so sleepy?”

“Sleepy?” Yin Hong tilted her head. “Perhaps you should lie down for a bit, miss.”

Liu Yuru’s thoughts were already going soft at the edges. She nodded vaguely and let Yin Hong help her to the bed. “Did you not sleep well last night?” Yin Hong asked, tucking the blanket around her. “Is that why you are so tired today?”

Liu Yuru did not answer. The moment her head touched the pillow, she was gone.

She slept deeply and long. When she finally woke, it was already afternoon. Yin Hong was calling her name softly. “Miss. Miss.”

Liu Yuru blinked, still muddled. Yin Hong said quickly: “Miss, wake up. Concubine Zhang is here. She says she has something to tell you.”

Liu Yuru sat up at once.

Her head ached. The unnatural quality of that drowsiness had not been lost on her even now, and something in her chest pulled taut with quiet alarm. But she still did not know what had happened, and could only push herself upright, wash her face, and make her way to the outer hall.

Zhang Yue’er had already been waiting for some time. When she saw Liu Yuru come in, a look of sorrowful regret settled over her face. “Yuru…”

Liu Yuru saw that expression and felt her heart drop.

Zhang Yue’er sighed. “Yuru, I have come today to tell you something. Today…” she hesitated. “Today, the Gu family came to make their formal betrothal offer.”

Liu Yuru’s eyes went wide.

In an instant, she understood everything.

And yet she did not understand at all.

The Gu family had come to make a betrothal offer. Why on earth would the Gu family come to make a betrothal offer?

She swayed slightly where she stood. Yin Hong rushed to steady her. Yin Hong was in a panic herself. She knew better than anyone how much Liu Yuru had wanted to marry Ye Shi’an, how every day had been spent waiting for him to come home. How had it come to this? How had the Gu family ended up here?

“Father,” Liu Yuru managed, leaning on Yin Hong. “What did Father say?”

“The master has already agreed.”

Zhang Yue’er’s voice was full of regret. Liu Yuru closed her eyes.

Zhang Yue’er rose and took Liu Yuru’s hands in her own, speaking gently. “Yuru, I know this is painful. But your father is doing this for your sake.”

Liu Yuru trembled slightly, biting down on her back teeth, saying nothing. Zhang Yue’er drew her to sit and began to speak with the gravity of a woman dispensing hard but necessary wisdom.

“Your father always had his reservations about the Ye family, even before. They are a family of scholars with strict rules and a great deal of pride. We are merchants. Going in as a merchant’s daughter, people would look down on you. And Ye Shi’an, with his examinations and his limitless future, will likely end up with an official post in the capital someday. Who can say what opportunities a man finds when he goes far from home? What if he became another man who forgot the wife he left behind? Then you would be the wife he abandoned, and your life would be very hard indeed.”

She arranged her expression into something tender and pained. “And if he went all the way to the capital, father and daughter might never see each other again. Your father could not bear that thought. And then, right at that moment, the Gu family came. Your father thought about it carefully. Gu Jiusi may not be a scholar, and his temperament is a little wild, but the Gu family has real weight in Yangzhou. Madam Gu’s brother holds a senior position in the capital, and Master Gu is the wealthiest man in Yangzhou. Gu Jiusi has no particular ambitions, which means he will never leave Yangzhou, which means you stay here. You would want for nothing for the rest of your life. And we have already spoken with the Gu family. Both Master and Madam Gu think very highly of you. Marrying into that household, you would be the principal wife with real authority. The household would be yours to run. Gu Jiusi can do as he likes, so long as the life you actually live is your own.”

Liu Yuru said nothing. But as Zhang Yue’er spoke, something in her had gone very still.

She understood perfectly what had happened.

The Gu family had come with a fortune in betrothal gifts. For money like that, what was one daughter? What was the risk of offending the Ye family? Getting the silver into hand was all that mattered.

The confinement. The overwhelming drowsiness after breakfast this morning. All of it had been Zhang Yue’er laying the groundwork, making sure the engagement was settled before Liu Yuru could come out and make a scene.

But what choice did she have?

Liu Yuru bit down until she could almost feel her teeth give.

Fifteen years. She had spent fifteen years getting to Ye Shi’an.

She had poured every hope she had into that one future.

And now they were telling her she was to marry Gu Jiusi?

The Gu Jiusi that every well-born girl in Yangzhou fled from on sight, the one everyone called a demon and a menace?

They said it was for her own good. They said she would live in comfort for the rest of her life. And perhaps that would be true, if the dream meant nothing. But what if it did? The military governor of Youzhou was already Fan Xuan. If the dream was real, marrying into the Gu family would cost her more than a life’s happiness. It would cost her her actual life.

She was not afraid of dying for her own sake. But if she died, what happened to her mother?

Her mother had no one else. A woman with no son faced the threat of being cast aside at any moment, and if she were cast out of the Liu household, the shame of it would leave her with nothing but a rope and a rafter. If Liu Yuru was gone, who would stand up for her? Who would take care of her?

And could her mother even survive losing her?

The thought moved through her like cold water, and she felt herself go still all the way to her bones.

Zhang Yue’er, seeing that Liu Yuru had fallen silent, patted her hand and said warmly: “Yuru, do not do anything rash. If you marry into the Gu family, your mother will be well taken care of too. Never mind anything else, just think of her health. The physicians have always said she needs expensive medicines, rare ingredients we have never been able to source. Once you are in the Gu household, what rare thing in the world could they not find for her? Yuru,” Zhang Yue’er said, with an expression halfway between counsel and warning, “think of your mother.”

Liu Yuru did not speak.

She opened her eyes.

And in that instant she became very calm. She looked at Zhang Yue’er steadily, with clear and unreadable eyes, and Zhang Yue’er felt a sudden chill without quite knowing why. It was as though Liu Yuru could see every one of her thoughts laid out plainly. But that was not possible, she told herself. What could a fifteen-year-old girl understand?

The unease passed in a moment. A little while later, she watched Liu Yuru drop her head and say quietly, with a look of quiet grief: “May I speak with my mother first?”

“My dear child,” Zhang Yue’er said gently, “your father has already decided. The betrothal gifts have already been accepted. Do you think there is any road back?”

“If you were to break the engagement now, Yuru, you would never find a match like the Gu family again.”

That much was not wrong. If she actually went through with breaking the engagement, the best she could hope for in marriage would be some poor and undistinguished man, a craftsman or a small trader.

Liu Yuru was quiet for a moment. Then she let resignation settle over her face, and said, almost as an afterthought: “Since Father and Auntie have already decided, then let it be decided. But the Ye family will need to be given some explanation.