Huang San glanced at her expression and seized the opportunity to tell another lie:
"...Therefore, because Pavilion Master Lan was worried about your health, she didn't let you go to Lan Ying Palace and told you to take good care of yourself."
93. Reunion
Hua Chongyang was kept for a month.
First came the morning sickness, which made her lose weight; her already thin face and chin became as sharp as a knife point. Then she caught a cold, so she saw a doctor, took medicine, and rested in bed. After a month, Hua Chongyang finally started to want to eat, so Huang Sanliu, Daye, and Laoqi went all out to prepare a bunch of sour foods for her. But she frowned at the sight of them and actually asked for Sichuan cuisine.
"I really want to eat some boiled fish."
Old Master Ye immediately tried to stop him:
"That's too spicy and will make you feel hot-tempered."
He suddenly stopped talking, looked at Huang San, and then his eyes widened:
"Could it be--"
Huang San continued:
"Is it a daughter?"
As the saying goes, sour foods are for boys and spicy foods are for girls. When the Double Ninth Festival arrives, people wish they could eat sour foods every day.
So the chili peppers were provided, and soon another ten days or so passed.
But more than a month has passed, and apart from her belly growing a bit, Hua Chongyang's chin is still pointed, and she hasn't gained any weight. On the surface, she always pretends to be fine, and Huang San and Ye Laoqi dare not bring it up—but behind her back, the two of them suspect that Lan Wuxie might be dead—otherwise, she should have recovered by now. Given Lan Wuxie's temperament, why hasn't she gone back to Hangzhou to find Lan Wuxie?
The two secretly wrote a letter and sent it to Lanying Palace.
The letter arrived after twenty days.
Two months have passed.
Huang San and Ye Laoqi hid in the house and secretly read it. As they read, they couldn't help but sigh. Huang San tossed the letter around, his face full of worry.
"What should we do? Should we tell Chongyang?"
Old Master Ye sighed to the heavens:
"...How would I know?"
As they were sighing, they heard a noise behind them. Turning around, they both instinctively hid the envelopes and letters behind their backs.
Hua Chongyang, with a cold face, stepped forward and snatched the letter.
Huang Sanye, the seventh son, was so frightened that he didn't dare to breathe. But after Hua Chongyang finished reading the letter, he put it down for a long time, then smiled slightly.
"...It's good that you're alright."
After saying that, she held her stomach, chuckled, and whispered:
"My dear little one, your dad can't be with you again."
As soon as he finished speaking, Liu Da brought Lan Fushun over in his arms. Lan Fushun, who could already speak, smiled upon seeing Hua Chongyang and struggled to call out to him:
"Father! Father! Mother—Father!"
Hua Chongyang's eyes reddened, and he smiled as he patted Lan Fushun's shoulder.
"Good boy, Fu Shun, Daddy isn't abandoning us... it's just that Daddy is sick."
Upon hearing this, Huang San and Ye Laoqi stood behind her and began wiping away tears.
The letter was written by Lan Cao. Lan Wuxie was moved back to Lan Ying Palace by Zu Xian. Zu Xian's pharmacy was located at the foot of Lan Ying Palace Mountain. Various methods, such as medicinal baths and hot steaming, were used. Lan Wuxie finally stopped vomiting blood, but she remained delirious. This completely aroused Zu Xian's desire to conquer her. He vowed that if he did not cure Lan Wuxie, he would never treat anyone else in his life.
Unexpectedly, Lan Wuxie suddenly recovered.
Lan Wuxie recovered and returned to his normal personality, bringing joy to the entire Lan Ying Palace. Zu Xian, upon hearing the news, also came and, after taking his pulse, praised him:
"It's nothing serious. After all, he's Lan Wuxie, not an ordinary person. However, the clash between the cold and hot energies within his body is still there, so it's best not to practice the Yellow Spring Martial Arts for the time being—"
Before he could finish speaking, Lan Wuxie glanced at the two of them and asked calmly:
"The Yellow Springs Martial Arts Technique?"
Lan Cao then sensed something was amiss. Looking at Lan Wuxie's expression, she tentatively asked:
"Sect Master—are you still planning to settle scores with Situ Qingliu?"
"...Situ Qingliu?"
Lan Wuxie raised an eyebrow and asked another question.
With just that one sentence, he suddenly frowned and bent over, his head throbbing, until the pain almost made him roll to the ground. Zu Xian, having no other choice, casually pulled out a silver needle and knocked him unconscious, then instructed Lan Cao:
"Don't mention anything to him for now."
In short, it seems that Lan Wuxie has completely forgotten everything that happened before.
Later, after Lan Wuxie woke up, and after two or three more times, Lan Cao found that whenever he thought about what had happened before, he would get a headache, and it wasn't just a normal headache, it was a headache that was excruciating.
From then on, he dared not mention it again; because he felt sorry for Hua Chongyang, he dared not tell her.
And so it went.
Setting down the letter, Hua Chongyang remained calm, showing no disappointment but rather appearing quite relaxed. He smiled at Huang Sanye, the seventh brother.
"Thank you for asking for me. For the past two months, I haven't been able to stop speculating whether he—now a weight has been lifted off my shoulders."
Huang San and Ye Laoqi remained silent.
Looking closely at Hua Chongyang's expression, she saw it was quite natural, not feigning indifference. She took her son's hand and went out, but after a few steps, she suddenly stopped, lowered her head, gently lifted Lan Fushun's small face, and asked tenderly:
Why is Fu Shun crying?
Lan Fushun's face was covered in tears, and he sobbed silently.
"...Mother...Fushun wants Father--"
Hua Chongyang burst into tears, then forced a smile:
"Okay. Good boy, Fushun, Mother will take you to find Father now."
Behind him, Huang Sanye, the seventh brother, couldn't help but start wiping away tears.
After all that, the two were almost about to get married and achieve a perfect union—but who knew that their once deep affection and boundless love would now vanish like smoke in the wind, leaving them heartbroken.
The next day, the group from the brothel, in two carriages, set off from Hangzhou. Nearly four months pregnant, Hua Chongyang could no longer withstand the commotion, so the carriages headed north, intending to travel to Nanjing and then take a boat upstream to Sichuan.
But as soon as they arrived in Suzhou, Hua Chongyang began to experience morning sickness again.
After settling into the inn, Ye Laoqi grumbled to Huang San behind his back:
"It's all because of the agonizing journey. Chongyang is destined to suffer this kind of torment because of that person. How far has it been? The journey to Sichuan and beyond is still long, and I don't know how much more difficult it will be. Sigh."
Huang San shook his head, his reply completely nonsensical:
"...I think Chongyang is definitely having a girl this time."
"……how?"
Huang San looked like he had a lot of experience:
"There's a reason for this. Usually, the eldest son resembles the mother, and the eldest daughter resembles the father. Our Chongyang is quite easygoing; look at Fushun, he's a boy and resembles her. When Chongyang gave birth to Fushun, she didn't suffer much at all. Now look at this one in her belly—she can't even walk a few steps? It's clearly Lan Wuxie's temperament—difficult to manage. It's definitely a girl."
The two were completely unaware that they had gone off-topic.
Suzhou has many beautiful sights, but Hua Chongyang was forced by Huang Sanye and Lao Qi to rest at the inn for two days. On the third day, Hua Chongyang couldn't sit still anymore, and Lan Fushun had also been feeling bored for two days. So one day, when the two weren't paying attention, he grabbed Fushun and went out to the street.
The streets were bustling, and the early autumn weather was still warm. After walking a few steps, they grew tired and chose a clean-looking teahouse to rest. Upstairs, in a private room separated by a screen facing the street, Fu Shun, though only one year old, already knew how to care for his mother and younger sister. He obediently took a snack and ran to Hua Chongyang.
"Mother, feed my little sister some snacks."
Hua Chongyang smiled and patted Lan Fushun's head:
"Good son, you eat too."
Just as the mother and son were deeply in love, the waiter suddenly ran up and chased them away.
"Gentlemen, I apologize, but our second floor was booked out yesterday. My waiter, without thinking, prepared to entertain you again today—but our guests are quite distinguished. Therefore, we will waive all charges for tea and snacks. We ask for your understanding."
There weren't many people on the second floor to begin with, but after hearing this, the people in the other rooms all left.
Hua Chongyang knew that one should be careful when traveling and did not intend to argue, but he still coaxed Fu Shun to eat a piece of pastry and drink half a bowl of tea, then took his hand and dragged him down the street.
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I happened to run into the waiter who was leading the guests who had booked the private rooms to go upstairs.
Fu Shun stopped and stared at the man.
Hua Chongyang thought to himself, "Rich and powerful, arrogant and domineering," without raising his head, he picked up Fushun, turned and walked past the man, coaxing him as he spoke:
"Good boy, Fu Shun. The tea here is awful. Mom will take you to eat crab meat buns."
The figure of that distinguished guest flashed faintly in the corner of my eye; he seemed to be a light gray, wearing a bamboo hat and a gray veil of the same color hanging down.
Everything was fine until Fu Shun, unusually unusually quiet, asked in a young voice:
"Hey, is that guy wearing a hat on the street because he's ugly?"
Hua Chongyang was dumbfounded.
Lan Fushun's question had a backstory: because in Hangzhou, young ladies often wore veils to escape the summer heat, Fushun was curious, so he casually made it up on Bailu's behalf:
"Because those older women are all ugly, I'm too ashamed to show my face!"
The figure with light gray eyes stopped.
The waiter on the stairs was also stunned, and it took him a while to come to his senses:
"This young master is young and naive, speaking without thinking—hehe, ha, uh, sir, this way please—"
The light gray figure obediently lifted its foot, but irritatingly left behind a single sentence:
"It is the father's fault if he raises his child but does not teach him."
Hua Chongyang suddenly stopped in his tracks.
If a child is raised but not taught, it is the father's fault.
After a long pause, she slowly turned around, facing the retreating figure climbing the stairs, and smiled before replying:
"Well said. Indeed, it is the father's fault if he raises a child but does not teach him."
The man paused.
The waiter was immediately sweating profusely, his eyes darting back and forth between Hua Chongyang and the man in gray, fearing that the man was seeking revenge—if so, the teahouse might be in trouble.