HomeBlossomChapter 20: Flowing Water

Chapter 20: Flowing Water

After that day, Mother fell ill.

Dou Zhao was very worried and stayed by her mother’s side every day.

Mother would smile and stroke her head, saying, “I’m fine, darling. I’ll get better soon. Go play!” But her face grew paler with each passing day.

Father came to visit her.

Mother took Father’s hand off her own accord.

His fingers were long, fair, and well-defined – as straight and elegant as bamboo.

“I love your smile the most,” Mother said, pressing Father’s hand to her cheek. “Whenever you smile at me, I think, how can someone smile so joyfully, so carefree? Like spring sunshine warming my heart.”

“The doctor says your pulse is steady. Rest well, and you’ll recover soon,” Father said, his eyes reddening. “When you’re better, I’ll smile for you every day.”

“Silly,” Mother smiled gently, looking at him as if he were a mischievous child, with a hint of indulgence. “People smile together because they’re happy. If you’re not happy, you naturally won’t smile. Don’t force yourself.”

Father was stunned.

Mother continued with a smile, “I just wanted you to apologize and tell me you weren’t doing well without me.”

Father was taken aback, then smiled awkwardly. “I’m not used to you ignoring me.”

“You’re just not used to me not being by your side!” Mother teased, her gaze very tolerant and peaceful. Her voice gradually lowered, “I thought only I could make you laugh so happily. It turns out others can make you smile just as freely…”

Father didn’t catch Mother’s last words. He leaned over her bed and asked softly, “What did you say?”

“Nothing!” Mother smiled. “I’m just a bit tired!”

“Then rest your voice,” Father said, holding her hand. “I’ll stay here with you until you fall asleep.”

Mother nodded and closed her eyes, quickly drifting off.

Dou Zhao, who had been eavesdropping, ran out and angrily threw her small sandbag onto the heated kang bed.

What was this supposed to be?

Making up as if nothing had happened?

The thought flashed through her mind, leaving her deflated.

Even if they reconciled, what difference would it make?

She still needed a little brother!

But why did it feel like hands were squeezing her heart, making her chest feel tight?

Dou Zhao sat blankly on the edge of the kang.

Father came out of the inner room. Seeing Dou Zhao, he paused, then sat down beside her. “Shougou, everyone says you’re clever and can speak in long sentences now. Say something for me to hear?”

Dou Zhao glanced at Father, then lowered her head to play with the sandbag in her hands.

Father smiled good-naturedly, “This sandbag is very well-made. Who helped you make it?”

Dou Zhao still didn’t respond.

Unfazed, Father chuckled and picked her up. “Come, let Father teach you how to write!”

“I don’t like writing,” Dou Zhao said rebelliously. “I want to swing!”

“Alright!” Father laughed. “Let’s go swinging.”

The back garden was still lush with competing flora.

After swinging for a while with Father, Dou Zhao’s mood gradually improved.

Perhaps Mother’s approach was right.

Taking the initiative to reconcile, keeping Father close… It was better than this cold war with no way out.

She looked at Father more favorably now.

“Father, push me higher!”

“Okay!”

Father pushed her high into the air.

She felt like she was riding the wind, the grounds of the Dou residence expanding and shrinking beneath her feet. She saw someone washing clothes by the well in the side courtyard, Aunt Ding scolding a young maid under the eaves, and Mother’s courtyard eerily quiet… It was as if she could see everything around her. The feeling was wonderfully strange.

Dou Zhao’s laughter rang out like pearls scattering on a jade plate, clear and melodious.

Father also smiled, his eyebrows lifting.

Only Tuo Niang foolishly jumped out, blocking Dou Shixing’s path. “Seventh Master, it’s too high! Fourth Young Miss might fall. Please bring her down!”

Dou Shixing recognized Tuo Niang and smiled, “I didn’t expect you to be so loyal!” Instead of scolding her, he simply walked around her and gave Dou Zhao another strong push on the swing.

Tuo Niang was so anxious she broke out in a cold sweat.

Dou Zhao, enjoying Tuo Niang’s concern, laughed heartily.

She saw Nanny Yu rush out of Mother’s room, calling from the steps under the eaves. The previously invisible maids and wives suddenly surged forward and then scattered in all directions, creating a chaotic scene.

What had happened?

As the swing rose again, Dou Zhao craned her neck to look towards the main courtyard.

The little maids were still in disarray, but Nanny Yu had disappeared.

Puzzled, Dou Zhao instructed her father, “Stop, stop.”

Father slowed the swing, smiling, “So our Shougou is a little coward after all.”

Dou Zhao didn’t argue. As soon as her feet touched the ground, Nanny Yu ran over, pale-faced and panting.

“Seventh Master,” she said tearfully, her eyes red and on the verge of crying, “The Seventh Mistress, she… she hanged herself!”

“What did you say?” Father’s eyes widened, his smile frozen on his face. “Who? Who hanged themselves?”

“The Seventh Mistress, the Seventh Mistress…” Nanny Yu cried, her legs giving way as she fell to her knees. “The Seventh Mistress hanged herself…”

Dou Shixing looked around blankly.

Seeing his daughter standing motionless beside him as if under a spell, he finally felt a touch of reality.

“How could this be… she was fine just now…” he murmured. His tall frame suddenly seemed to shrink, his face ashen, lips white, trembling uncontrollably.

Dou Zhao had lost the ability to speak. Her mind roared like a thousand galloping horses.

Why did Mother still have to die?

Hadn’t Wang Yingxue become a concubine?

Even if she bore a son, he would only be a first-born son of a concubine…

Why did Mother still have to die?

What was the point of her coming back then?

Dou Zhao stubbornly pressed her lips together, her small hands clenched into fists.

The spring sunshine was gentle and warm, silently illuminating the two figures – one large, one small – standing like clay statues. Only the swing continued to sway, attracting several colorful butterflies to dance around it in a display of beauty.

Dou Zhao knelt before the coffin, wearing coarse hemp mourning clothes. Her expression was blank as she mechanically kowtowed and returned bows in response to the chanting.

Mother had died by suicide, so she couldn’t be considered to have died of natural causes. With elders still alive, the mourning period could only last for 35 days – five sets of seven.

With no one to take charge, Grandfather had asked Third Uncle and Third Aunt to help arrange Mother’s funeral. He even gave Mother the nanmu wood coffin he had prepared for himself.

Those who came to pay their respects and offer incense inevitably asked about the cause of death.

The Dou family uniformly told outsiders it was a sudden illness. Listeners couldn’t help but shed tears: “…She wasn’t even twenty years old!”

Dou Zhao’s eyes reddened.

Indeed, how could she have forgotten? Although Mother was her mother, she wasn’t even twenty years old!

How could she expect a twenty-year-old Mother to understand things she only grasped at thirty?

Some wounds are buried deep in the heart, maybe raw and bleeding inside, yet show no trace on the surface.

Mother had never truly been at ease, had never truly let go, had she?

Dou Zhao looked across the room.

Father, dressed all in white, had a sickly pallor and sunken eyes, looking extremely haggard.

He knelt before the offering bowl, meticulously burning paper money for Mother, his expression serious and devout as if he were presenting official memorials.

Wang Yingxue, her eyes red, walked over and knelt beside Father. She silently took a stack of paper money from nearby and began tearing sheets to throw into the bowl with Father.

“Seventh Master!” Her voice was hoarse with a hint of choking, “You’ve been kneeling here for a day and a night. If this continues, your health will suffer… We’re counting on you to manage Sister’s funeral arrangements!”

Father didn’t respond, gently taking the paper money from Wang Yingxue’s hands and continuing to burn it.

A flash of embarrassment crossed Wang Yingxue’s face. She knelt there for a long time, but Father never looked at her. Her eyes dimmed slightly as she quietly withdrew.

Sixth Uncle came over and took Father’s arm. “Wanyuan, don’t be like this. The dead have passed; the living should take care of themselves.”

Father refused to get up.

In front of his good friend and cousin, he began to cry softly: “I promised Guqiu we’d have five sons and three daughters… Now she’s gone, and there’s not even anyone to smash the soul-recalling jar… Just let me burn some more paper money for her… My heart aches so much…”

Sixth Uncle stamped his feet, but his eyes glistened with tears. “I know you’re grieving, but now is not the time!” His voice deepened, “Ruifu has returned! He didn’t participate in the palace examination for Hanlin scholars…”

Dou Zhao looked up.

Ruifu was the courtesy name of her maternal uncle, Zhao Si.

“By my calculations, he should arrive soon,” Sixth Uncle said bitterly. “Have you thought about what to say when you see Ruifu? Third Brother and the others are in Uncle’s study. We need to agree on how to explain this beforehand…”

“Explain? Explain what?” Father mumbled, his mind still adrift. “It’s all my fault… That time when Nanny Yu said she wanted to hang herself, I thought she was just trying to manipulate me… I didn’t realize she was truly heartbroken and desperate… I knew nothing, yet I was smugly pleased with myself, thinking I had won… She said she was waiting for me to apologize, to admit that I wasn’t doing well without her…” He collapsed in front of his wife’s coffin, sobbing loudly. “I didn’t know it would be like this, truly didn’t know… I promised Uncle I would take good care of Guqiu, that I would be good to her for life… I broke my word… She said I was despicable… She wasn’t wrong at all…”

“Wanyuan, Wanyuan!” Sixth Uncle wiped the corner of his eye with the back of his hand and tried hard to pull Father up. “We’ll talk about this later. The urgent matter now is to give Ruifu an explanation. You can’t act on impulse.”

Father shook his head, his voice lifeless: “I’ve wronged Guqiu. After I finish her funeral, he can deal with me however he wants!”

Sixth Uncle was furious. He called two servants to come and carry Father away to Heshou Hall.

Dou Zhao ran out.

Wang Yingxue was standing under the magnolia tree outside the mourning hall, staring blankly at the retreating figures of Father and Sixth Uncle.

Dou Zhao called out to her: “Aunt Wang!”

Wang Yingxue turned her head, glancing at the servants outside the mourning hall, then walked over with a proper smile. “Shougou, what is it?” Her tone was gentle.

“You want to have a son, don’t you?” Dou Zhao looked up, her dark eyes fixed on Wang Yingxue’s, speaking in a voice only the two of them could hear. “Unfortunately, this child you’re carrying is a girl! After the mourning period, when the new mistress arrives, who knows if she’ll be as easy to deal with as my mother?”

“You…” Wang Yingxue recoiled in shock, staring at Dou Zhao as if she were looking at a monster.

Dou Zhao was satisfied.

She coldly curled her lip and walked past Wang Yingxue, her posture as straight as a pine tree.

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