Chapter Sixty-Seven: Scandal

Feng Da grew impatient, lazily refusing to acknowledge her. The woman, however, paid him no mind. She stepped closer, took a jug and a bowl from her basket, poured some water, and handed it to Feng Da, her cheeks flushed—whether from the heat or from embarrassment, it was hard to say. “Brother Feng, have some water,” she murmured.

Perhaps he truly was thirsty; though his expression remained sour, Feng Da took the bowl and gulped it down in a few swift mouthfuls. When he finished, he wiped his mouth with his sleeve and tossed the bowl back into the basket.

Feng Da had once liked to act refined, always presenting himself as polite and cultured before others. No one had seen him behave so roughly before; it showed how much the environment could change a person. In a few more years, he might well be indistinguishable from the local farmers.

The woman put away the bowl and, only then, seemed to notice Liu Qin and the group of noble youths nearby. Her face turned scarlet, but compared to those shy village girls, she was still far more composed. She stepped forward and bowed to Liu Qin and her companions. “Sister Zhen greets the young masters.”

Liu Qin waved her hand, smiling. This Sister Zhen appeared to be about eighteen or nineteen years old—not from the manor itself, but likely from one of the neighboring villages. She wore her hair in the braids of an unmarried girl, and though slim of figure, her features left much to be desired: small eyes, a flat nose, protruding teeth. By these looks, she was considered unattractive—no wonder she had not married despite her age.

Sister Zhen glanced up to size up Liu Qin’s party: all were youths, some dressed in finery—surely the sons of the Liu household her father had spoken of. She knew these noble folk were out of her league; as her father said, they lived in another world entirely. Sister Zhen could not imagine what that world might be like. She only knew that Feng Da was not so very different from herself. Were it not for her father’s opposition, perhaps… just perhaps…

She lowered her head again, shy. The first time she met Feng Da, she had taken a liking to him; he was unlike anyone in the village—or even the manor. He spoke gently, acted with grace, and back then his skin was pale and smooth. Though now he was sun-darkened and coarse, she still found him handsome.

Love is blind, though Sister Zhen had never heard the phrase. Her father hadn’t either, but with his years of experience, he saw through Feng Da at a glance: a fancy pillow with nothing inside, or as he put it, not even a fancy pillow—just a sack of rotten straw.

Despite her looks, Sister Zhen was treasured by her father. In the village, no girl went unmarried; as long as she brought some dowry, there would always be someone willing. Poor families didn’t care about appearance, only about whether a girl could work and bear sons.

Yet Sister Zhen had refused every match—not because others rejected her, but because she rejected them. Two years earlier, she finally agreed to a marriage, the horoscopes were matched, but the man died unexpectedly before the engagement was finalized. Had it gone through, she would have been a widow before ever marrying, and likely no one would have looked her way again.

In fact, no one had looked her way since. Sister Zhen worried constantly; Feng Da seemed her last hope. Though he was indifferent, and her father vehemently opposed, she decided to cling to him, for she did not know if another chance would ever come.

Liu Qin watched the scene for a while, found it dull, and lost interest. She disliked Feng Da and cared nothing for his affairs, so she decided to go fishing in the river. The crowd followed her, leaving the old tree suddenly deserted. Feng Da, seeing Liu Qin depart, ignored Sister Zhen and headed to the fields, working listlessly.

Sister Zhen watched the group walk away, her eyes flickering. Perhaps, she thought, this was an opportunity.

That day passed uneventfully, but the following day brought a scandal to the manor: Feng Da and Sister Zhen were caught in bed together by her mother and father, causing a stir among both villagers and manor folk.

Parents of daughters cursed Feng Da in their hearts, appalled that he could do something so disgraceful—thankful their own girls had never associated with him. The younger women realized they had misjudged him; he acted indifferent to Sister Zhen in public, but behaved shamefully in private. As for the young men, they just marveled at Feng Da’s taste: with Sister Zhen looking as she did, how could he?

Liu Qin heard only fragments of the story; such a scandal was too fresh for anyone to discuss openly with a young girl. Only Cui Yu, careless and talkative, spoke freely. From Cui Yu’s words and her own imagination, Liu Qin pieced together the story.

Her guess was not far from the truth. After Sister Zhen saw Liu Qin and her party, she returned home and spent the afternoon brooding. She thought about her marriage and Feng Da’s attitude, and finally resolved to take a risk, to gamble everything. As fate would have it, that night her father took her brother to visit relatives and would not return. Her mother, hard of hearing and indecisive, was easily persuaded to go to bed early.

Sister Zhen lulled her mother to sleep and went to the manor to find Feng Da, telling him her father had invited him for a drink.

Feng Da was reluctant, but when Sister Zhen mentioned it was freshly brewed, excellent grain wine, he could not resist. Since coming to the manor, he had been strictly watched—no gambling, and not even allowed to drink except on holidays. Hearing there was wine, his craving overcame him, and he followed Sister Zhen without another thought.

Once inside Sister Zhen’s private room, Feng Da realized her father had not invited him. He should have left immediately, but seeing the jug of wine on the table, he felt rooted to the spot. Half-pushed, half-pulled by Sister Zhen, he ended up sitting at the table. As for what happened after, Feng Da remembered little. He knew only that he drank a great deal, emptied the entire jug. How he undressed, how he ended up in bed—he had no memory.

He was awakened by Sister Zhen’s father’s furious shouting. At first, he was confused, then realized he was naked, with Sister Zhen sobbing beside him.

Stunned, Feng Da hurriedly grabbed his clothes and tried to escape, but Sister Zhen’s father, enraged, shoved him to the ground. Seeing his daughter still wrapped in the quilt, he snatched up a stick by the door and beat her mercilessly, stopping only when her mother intervened. Still angry, he struck Feng Da twice more, then demanded, “You beast, how could you do such a shameless thing? What now? Tell me—what now?”

Feng Da mumbled for ages, but never once mentioned marrying Sister Zhen. Her father was utterly disappointed. He had hoped to keep the matter quiet, arrange the marriage privately to preserve both families’ reputations. But seeing Feng Da’s attitude, it was clear he had no intention of accepting responsibility.

Throwing down the stick in disgust, he said to Sister Zhen, “You’ll regret this one day,” and paid no further heed to mother and daughter. Dragging Feng Da along, he stormed to the manor and made a scene, until the uproar reached the old matron herself.