Chapter 2851: Midnight

Outside, the night watchman struck the third watch. In the main room of a small courtyard deep within a Ming-Australian Fusion residence in Lingao's upscale district, Zhou Suniang knelt on the square brick floor, "reflecting on her misdeeds." Her body had long since given out, slumping sideways against the Eight Immortals table.

The candlestick on the table burned through the night. The Madam had ordered that after the family discipline was administered, Zhou Suniang was to kneel until morning and reflect properly.

The maid keeping watch yawned again. The candle flame flickered twice, nearly burned down to its base. Still groggy, she stood to fetch another candle when the door opened. Another maid entered carrying a hurricane lamp.

"Ruilan! Go back and rest. I'll take over for you."

The newcomer was Fuyue, Zhou Suniang's personal maid. The moment the First Wife had returned, she had summoned every servant and maid in Zhou Suniang's service for interrogation, one by one.

Ruilan looked surprised. "They let you back?"

"I told the steward's wife and the First Wife that I was helping in the kitchen today. Everyone there can vouch for me. Concubine Zhou running out has nothing to do with me."

"Good that you're in the clear!" Ruilan patted her chest in relief. She glanced at the sky outside. "What time is it?"

"When I came over, the clock had struck twelve, and the third watch had sounded outside."

Ruilan laughed softly. "Forget it. At this hour, the night-patrol stewardess will be making her rounds soon. I've already lasted half the night; might as well last the other half. If she catches me leaving, she'll nag me endlessly!"

"You're that afraid of her?"

"Aren't you? One word from her, and you get a beating that keeps you from sitting for two days!" Ruilan shuddered. "I won't court that kind of bad luck."

Fuyue sat down beside her and looked at the drowsy Zhou Suniang. "Asleep?"

"Mm. Beaten and scolded—how could she hold up?" Ruilan sighed with sympathy. "The Madam has been waiting to vent her anger on her for a long time. This time, she caught her red-handed."

Fuyue extinguished the hurricane lamp, replaced the candle with a fresh one, and settled in beside Ruilan. "Then I'll keep you company."

She rose again, checked on Zhou Suniang, went into the inner room for a thin quilt, and draped it over her.

Winter nights in Lingao still carried a chill. Ruilan had a thin blanket for the night watch, so the two huddled together and shared it between them.

"You have a kind heart," Ruilan chuckled softly. "Taking care of her like this."

"She's the Master's treasure. If something really happens to her, the Madam can put on a stern face, but I'm the one who suffers." Fuyue sighed, her voice trailing off. She glanced at Zhou Suniang again and lowered her voice. "I'm afraid her days ahead won't be easy."

Ruilan nodded. When the mistress's days are hard, the maid's are even harder.

"Living such a good life, but she just had to..." Ruilan muttered.

"Shh!" Fuyue made a hushing gesture, glancing at Zhou Suniang. "Don't run your mouth."

Ruilan realized her mistake and quickly nodded.

"Sigh. In this house, we don't worry about food or clothing, and the work isn't heavy. But day after day, it's no different from being in prison," Ruilan said wistfully. "Living in fear all the time."

Fuyue whispered, "Have you ever thought about resigning?"

"Resigning?" Ruilan looked startled. "A slave's body, a slave's fate. They want you east, you go east; west, you go west. If you get slapped, you have to ask if the master's hand hurts. How would you dare say 'no'?"

"Didn't Advisor Xia say last time that all the Qu family's deeds of sale are void? Now we're all considered hired employees." She jutted her chin toward Zhou Suniang. "Her deed is gone too."

"That's what they say, Sister Fuyue." Ruilan sighed. "But so what if the deed is gone? We're still at the mercy of the masters, to be molded round or flat as they please. If they're happy, you get a sweet date; if not, you get a slap! Look at her—" She glanced at Zhou Suniang again. "The Master's favorite, right? One word from the Madam, and last night she was beaten half to death; the bamboo board split in two. If they weren't afraid of killing someone..." She trailed off, glancing toward the door. "Sigh. What does it have to do with us anyway?"

"You're too honest, you silly girl." Fuyue snorted. "Sister Lian's debt—who is the Master going to collect that from now?"

"I couldn't do that. Having debt on my conscience, even if no one asks, I'd feel like I couldn't lift my head for the rest of my life," Ruilan said. "Besides, I haven't been pushed to that point yet."

The two maids talked and sighed for a while. Whispering between themselves, they failed to notice that Zhou Suniang, whose head had been hanging as if asleep, stirred slightly.

They talked a while longer, yawning one after another, until finally, unable to hold on, they leaned against each other and dozed off.

Hearing their breathing grow steady and regular, Zhou Suniang opened her eyes. She braced her hands against the floor and slowly began to push herself up.

Inch by inch, she lifted herself with her arms, working feeling back into legs and feet that had gone almost completely numb. A full ten minutes passed before she managed to stand, gripping the table for support.

Numbness, pain, and dizziness tormented her. She stood there another ten minutes before her body, which had seemed to be falling apart, finally felt like her own again.

She moved cautiously toward the door of the west room. This was her usual study, where she often read and wrote. By the faint candlelight, she could see the door standing open and the floor covered with scattered books and scrolls. During the interrogation last night, the First Wife had unceremoniously searched her living quarters from top to bottom, determined to find evidence of her "contacting outside men" and "adultery."

Naturally, there was no evidence, because she had no adultery to hide. As for contacting outside men—He Xiaoyue had guessed correctly. She was looking for her brother.

Zhou Suniang had been sold to Yangzhou by a trafficker. She had left her hometown at a young age, and now more than a decade had passed. She had long forgotten her surname and given name, who her parents were, or where they had gone. She only remembered that she had a brother.

Her fate had actually been quite good compared to her sisters: she was redeemed while still young. Although she had been married off as a concubine to a merchant, she was deeply favored, and so the Qu household naturally treated her with respect.

Master Qu had been in business for many years and possessed considerable assets and foresight. The whole family had moved to Lingao, this blessed land of the Great Song. No longer needing to worry about the chaos of war, and enjoying many fresh and comfortable "Australian conveniences," she lived a stable, wealthy life, ordering servants about. She felt she had nothing to complain about.

What disturbed her peace of mind was a shopping trip to Wanzi Pavilion, where she saw a man named Wu Xinsheng—and the mole under his eye. In an instant, all those long-blurred memories came flooding back.

Unfortunately, repeated attempts to inquire led nowhere. Wu Xinsheng even left town. Fortunately, Guo Xi'er had a loose tongue, and Zhou Suniang managed to learn the man's address.

The Qu family maintained strict security, making it difficult to go out. But asking someone to mail a letter wasn't hard. Zhou Suniang used various means to finally make contact with the Nansha Cotton Textile Mill.

She wasn't willing to give up such a rare opportunity. Taking advantage of the Master being away on business and the First Wife going to the temple for incense and fasting, she sneaked out and went straight to Wanzi Pavilion. Although He Xiaoyue had rejected her request, Zhou Suniang could tell the other woman sympathized with her. Moreover, He Xiaoyue possessed a more resolute and decisive character than Guo Xi'er.

At this moment, the most pressing matter was the correspondence with the Nansha Textile Mill. One of the letters, along with the one she had written to her brother, had been stuffed into the sofa crevice in the reception room of Wanzi Pavilion. But she still had to dispose of two other letters quickly. Zhou Suniang knew the First Wife would never let her off so easily. The items would be found sooner or later.

She struck a match and, by its light, made her way to the bookshelf. Squatting with some difficulty, she fumbled along the bottom shelf. Soon her fingers touched a book jacket stuffed inside.

She pulled out the jacket. Inside were two letters—sent from the Nansha Textile Mill—and, of course, half a wooden comb.

(End of Chapter)