The servant bringing the news had no idea. He could only kowtow and say, “It was the servant of Third Young Master’s family from the village end who saw it with his wife when visiting her natal family in Shangcai. They only recognized Chengbo and the second young madam, but judging by who was leading, it should be the third young mistress of the first branch.”
Zhao Song thought for a moment. “Before eldest brother passed, he arranged a marriage for the third young mistress. It must have been his intention to entrust the first branch to her. Perhaps she stopped in Shangcai hoping we would go welcome eldest brother?”
He continued, “That’s as it should be. Quick, inform each household. Make some preparations tonight—tomorrow morning we’ll go to Shangcai to welcome eldest brother home.”
The steward acknowledged and withdrew to spread the word. Zhao Song’s son Zhao Ming was full of doubts. “Father, why are only second sister-in-law and the third young mistress escorting the coffin home? Where are Jizi and the others?”
He said, “Even if Jizi is busy, eldest nephew should handle this matter. He inherited eldest uncle’s title, so he ought to fulfill his filial duty. Even if he couldn’t return himself, he should have sent his son to escort the coffin home. How is it that only the first branch’s orphans and widow are escorting the coffin?”
Zhao Song frowned slightly. “We’ll know when we ask tomorrow.”
Early the next morning before dawn broke, human voices, horse sounds, and ox sounds mingled together in the Zhao family compound. Learning that the old clan head’s coffin had reached Shangcai, many Zhao clan members wanted to go welcome it.
Chengbo had set out even before daybreak with several retainers, traveling light and fast toward Xiping.
At noon, Chengbo stopped only to gnaw on some dry rations. After the horses drank water, he stood up. “Let’s go. Another hour or so and we’ll arrive. Everyone pick up the pace.”
Everyone was about to put away their water pouches and mount up when they saw numerous horses and ox carts approaching on the official road.
Chengbo led his horse to the roadside, planning to wait for their procession to pass before continuing.
At the front were two horses and a carriage. Chengbo’s gaze met that of the mounted rider, then slid away unobtrusively, sweeping past the carriage with just a glance.
Suddenly his sharp eyes caught the emblem on the carriage body. He immediately turned back for a second look. After confirming it was indeed the emblem he knew best, his eyes widened slightly.
He immediately released his horse and stepped forward several paces, raising his hand and calling out loudly, “Is someone from the Xiping Zhao family in that carriage?”
The carriage slowly stopped. The mounted guard looked at him warily and demanded, “Who are you?”
Zhao Song lifted the curtain to look out. Meeting Chengbo’s gaze, he was startled. “Chengbo?”
Chengbo was also surprised, calling out loudly, “Wulang—oh no, Fifth Grand Master, it’s Fifth Grand Master!”
Zhao Song immediately stepped down from the carriage. Chengbo knelt on the ground. “This humble one pays respects to Fifth Grand Master.”
“Rise quickly. What are you doing here? Has eldest brother’s coffin truly returned to Shangcai? Why didn’t you send it back to Xiping?”
Chengbo knelt on the ground crying. “This humble one is following the third young mistress’s orders to go to Xiping to report the death and also to ask Fifth Grand Master to take charge of our master’s funeral. I never expected to meet Fifth Grand Master halfway.”
Still sobbing, Chengbo pulled out a letter and presented it. “Fifth Grand Master, our young mistress suffers greatly. She’s too ashamed to return to the clan and could only quietly send me to request Fifth Grand Master’s aid. Please, Fifth Grand Master, lend your assistance.”
Zhao Song immediately took the letter and opened it.
In the letter, Zhao Hanzhang began from Zhao Changyu being falsely accused of plotting to harm the Prince of Donghai, making clear that Zhao Changyu had refused treatment and chosen to pass away at that time for the sake of the entire Zhao family.
Reading this, Zhao Song’s tears flowed freely, his nose turning sour. When he learned that Luoyang had been besieged and the Prince of Donghai had actually fled the capital with the emperor, abandoning the entire city, he was shocked. “That traitor the Prince of Donghai is leading the country to ruin!”
Reading further about how their entire family fled together, only to be robbed on the road with many servants and possessions lost, and how only a few of them managed to escape under the protection of retainers while safeguarding grandfather’s coffin, and how they became separated from Zhao Ji during this journey…
Though Zhao Hanzhang wrote euphemistically, when Zhao Song read that “the third young mistress barely escaped with her life, only to find grandfather’s coffin abandoned in the wilderness, her frail mother and young brother collapsed weeping beside it, all servants scattered, with only two or three loyal servants remaining to protect them, while eldest uncle’s entire family was lost and scattered…”
Zhao Song was so angry his nose flared. “Zhao Ji is incompetent! He couldn’t even protect a single coffin and lost the first branch’s mother and children. Simply, simply…”
Zhao Song found himself unable to find appropriate words to curse. His son Zhao Ming, watching anxiously from the side, supplied them for him: “Simply a beast.”
Zhao Song: …
He shot his son a sideways glare. If Zhao Ji was a beast, what did that make their ancestor? And with Zhao Ji sharing the same ancestor as them, what did that make them?
He couldn’t even curse properly—who includes themselves in their own insults?
Zhao Song folded the letter and asked, “Having suffered such grievances, why didn’t the third young mistress escort the coffin back to Xiping to have the clan make things right?”
“This…” Chengbo looked conflicted before saying, “The third young mistress says family scandals shouldn’t be made public. The eldest master was personally chosen by our late master to be the earl. Now the second grand master heads the Zhao family. If word of this got out, it would be extremely damaging to the clan’s reputation, so…”
Zhao Song snorted coldly. “Am I afraid of that Old Eight?”
Zhao Zhongyu ranked second in his immediate family but eighth in the clan. Though younger than Zhao Song, Zhao Song wasn’t intimidated by him.
Zhao Changyu had probably considered this point when he originally instructed Zhao Hanzhang to escort the coffin home.
Zhao Song put away the letter and immediately boarded the carriage. “Let’s go to Shangcai!”
The procession proceeded with great momentum toward Shangcai. Zhao Hanzhang was just selecting burial goods for Zhao Changyu when she heard the commotion outside. Emerging, she saw a middle-aged man descending from a carriage. Seeing the courtyard filled with white mourning clothes, and meeting Zhao Hanzhang’s gaze, tears immediately welled in his eyes.
Zhao Hanzhang: …
The middle-aged man approached with restraint, looking at her with reddened eyes. “You must be Sanniang? It’s been years—you’ve grown into an adult.”
Chengbo immediately said, “Sanniang, this is Fifth Grand Master.”
Hearing this, Zhao Hanzhang immediately performed a deep bow. “Fifth Grand-Uncle.”
Zhao Song saw she performed a bow rather than a curtsy but didn’t mind. He reached out to support her, and the grandfather and granddaughter entered together hand in hand.
Wang Shi and Zhao Erlang had both changed into mourning clothes today and were sitting in the mourning hall burning millet stalks. Seeing Zhao Song, she quickly pulled Zhao Erlang to his feet to bow. “Fifth Uncle.”
Zhao Song showed her a cold face, nodding curtly and sweeping a glance over Zhao Erlang. When he raised his head to look at the mourning hall, his expression became full of sorrow.
The clan members who had followed Zhao Song all began crying mournfully. The previously quiet mourning hall was suddenly filled with wailing.
Some had even brought children. When the children couldn’t cry, adults would pinch them hard. The children would burst into tears, and the crying in the mourning hall would correspondingly surge louder. Someone two li away from the courtyard could probably tell there was a funeral here.
Zhao Hanzhang: …
These were all relatives—she couldn’t very well tell them to stop. Wang Shi had already broken down from their crying, collapsing to the ground in anguished sobs.
Zhao Hanzhang didn’t know how sincere the mourners were, but Wang Shi was clearly truly heartbroken. Her sobs carried fear and anxiety. She quickly knelt at Wang Shi’s side, reaching out to embrace her.
What was so frightening about the old Xiping home that she was this afraid of these people?
Seeing Zhao Hanzhang couldn’t produce tears, Qinggu quietly withdrew. Before long she returned, looking grief-stricken as she went to help Wang Shi up, but slipped Zhao Hanzhang a handkerchief to wipe her tears.
Zhao Hanzhang, who previously had no tears, suddenly began crying. The strong scent of ginger juice was so pungent her eyes could barely stay open.
Fu Tinghan, who had just rushed over from the back courtyard, happened to witness this scene.
It was… quite remarkable.
—