Chapter 7

Despite Song Taohong's troubles casting a shadow in the background, Song Dingxiang's wedding was anything but subdued—it was an exuberant display of rural revelry that demanded attention. Zhou Tiezhu, though devoid of an extended family entourage, wasn't about to let that hinder his big day. A lively gang of young villagers, brimming with energy and mischief, stepped in to ensure every detail was seen to perfection.

The real spark that lit this fiery celebration, however, was Zhou Tiezhu's undeniably bold display of wealth. His betrothal gifts were nothing short of audacious: twenty shimmering taels of silver, a stately pair of geese, and a coveted five-acre parcel of fertile land, worth nearly ten taels on its own. When added to Song Dingxiang's well-endowed dowry, the total sum roared past the twenty-tael mark, making it clear that this wasn’t just any ordinary union—it was a spectacle.

The wedding procession didn’t settle for mere tradition. It paraded boldly through the village, not once but twice, as if daring anyone to ignore the grandeur before finally arriving at Zhou Tiezhu's temporary lodging—a sprawling pig-rearing courtyard that had been transformed into a festive arena.

The courtyard itself was a sight to behold, its expansive space meticulously adorned to radiate festivity. One side of the yard showcased vibrantly decorated carrying poles, while the other side held tables piled high with heaps of melon seeds and peanuts. A pack of scrappy, wide-eyed children gleefully filled their pockets to bursting before darting off to catch a glimpse of the veiled bride.

Inside, the modest two-room house was brimming with activity. In the east room, Song Dingxiang, draped in a striking red veil, sat regally on the kang bed, encircled by a gaggle of chattering elder women and giggling sisters. Meanwhile, Zhou Tiezhu commanded the outer hall, entertaining guests with an air of rugged charm, offering tea and sweets before they meandered over to Song Xingyi's neighboring house to bask in even more cheer.

Even the backyard played its part, festooned with vivid red decorations that defied the winter chill. The weather may have been unforgiving, but the festivities didn’t falter. With the feast moved indoors, the house heaved with guests, every room bursting at the seams.

The courtyard transformed into the chef's domain, where a roaring stove worked tirelessly to churn out a feast fit for kings. Song Zhiyuan, the bride’s father and a seasoned pig farmer, spared no expense. With an ample supply of meat from his own stock, he turned the culinary reins over to the chef, ensuring that no one left hungry.

But this wasn’t just about pampering Song Dingxiang. It was a calculated move by Song Zhiyuan—a show of equal treatment for his daughters. When his eldest had married, he’d slaughtered half a pig, and this time, he wasn’t about to show favoritism. Yet, with Zhou Tiezhu lacking any family to pitch in, Song Zhiyuan took it upon himself to consolidate two days of celebration into one raucous, unforgettable affair.

This wasn’t merely a wedding—it was a declaration of defiance, a blazing testament to tradition, community, and the audacity of rural pride.

Song Dingxiang's eldest sister, Song Yulan, arrived with her husband’s family to lend a hand. Her husband, a man from the neighboring Xu village, carried an air of calculated pragmatism. Though the Xu and Song families had shared blood ties for five generations, their interactions were sparse—casual nods in passing, the kind of obligatory ties that felt more like an afterthought than kinship.

Yet, as he surveyed the lively, bustling courtyard of the Song family and compared it to the murmurs of scandal that clung to his own kin, a sly smirk crossed his face. He knew he’d gambled well marrying into Yulan’s family.

Still, the whispers refused to die down. Why had that pompous Xu scholar tossed aside his engagement with Dingxiang, only to run after Old Third Song San’s granddaughter, Taohong? Surely, it couldn’t have been her looks. In the unforgiving countryside, beauty was a fleeting asset—quickly dulled by days spent under the scorching sun and hands worn raw from relentless labor. No, here, a woman’s worth was measured by her ability to toil and bear strong children. Anything else was just fluff.

The Zhou family had sent a handful of representatives to the wedding, but the absence of Zhou Lao San’s branch was glaring. Their grudge, thick and bitter, had already seeped into the tongues of the villagers, fueling gossip like dry wood to a fire.

Zhou Lao San, however, couldn’t stomach the loss he’d taken—twenty taels of silver and five acres of good, fertile land, all stripped from him for the sake of his eldest son's education. It ate at him, day and night. He knew his enemies were watching, waiting for his downfall, none more than his own kin. His wife, sharp-tongued and unapologetically venomous, leaned against their doorway, her eyes slicing through the merriment across the way.

“Hah! All this fuss over a man who’s doomed to die young. Ridiculous,” she sneered, her voice dripping with contempt.

Zhou Lao San felt the heat of her words like a slap. “Enough! Get inside,” he snapped, slamming the door with an edge of desperation. He couldn’t shake the sense that everything he’d done, every decision, had led him to some unforgivable sin. But for all his regret, the survival of his children came first.

His wife wasn’t done, though. As they retreated to the shadows of their courtyard, she muttered, her voice as cold and cutting as a winter wind. “We raised him, fed him, clothed him, and now he dares to ignore us? If I’d known this would be our reward, I would’ve wrung his neck as a baby and saved us the trouble.”

“Woman! Shut your mouth,” Zhou Lao San hissed, his scalp prickling with unease. “Do you want people to hear? Do you want to bring trouble down on our boy in town?”

But even as he spoke, her cruel laughter echoed in his ears, leaving him with the sinking feeling that, despite his efforts to control the chaos, it was only a matter of time before the storm broke loose.

When Zhou Tiezhu stirred up a storm over splitting the family, the others refused outright. But Zhou Tiezhu wasn’t one to back down easily. He declared with no hesitation that he'd march straight to the academy to find his eldest brother. After all, someone educated and capable of making sound decisions needed to intervene.

If word of this escapade got out, how many would sneer at Zhou Tiezhu’s audacity? How many would brand the entire Zhou clan as a pack of greedy wolves?

“What’s there to fear?” Zhou Lao San’s wife snapped, her sharp gaze cutting through the tension. “Is there anyone else here to meddle?”

Her tone dropped slightly, though the venom lingered. “Honestly, Zhou Tiezhu’s making a mountain out of a molehill. That ungrateful brat must’ve been goaded by someone. Why else would he kick up dust about splitting the family? Just because we talked about him joining the army? He didn’t lose his temper then.”

“Who’s behind it?” Zhou Lao San grumbled as he stepped into the room, peeling off his worn shoes to reveal socks riddled with holes.

“Why couldn’t someone have gotten to him?” His wife barked, shoving his filthy feet aside as she climbed onto the platform. “Back when he carried that pile of silver, don’t you think someone might’ve schemed for it? He took twenty taels from this house alone, not to mention five acres of land!”

“Keep your voice down!” Zhou Lao San hissed, clamping a hand over her mouth and darting his eyes around nervously.

Years ago, when Zhou Tiezhu returned with that hefty sum of silver, it was his wife who raised hell over splitting the family. She pushed and shoved until they broke apart and built their own shabby clay house. That drama left a bitter aftertaste, with whispers and curses trailing behind them for years.

Since then, the brothers barely spoke, their connection reduced to the income from the land and whatever scraps Zhou Tiezhu brought back.

As for the family’s treasures? The jade pendant was set aside for Zhou Tiezhu, but everything else—the gold and silver bracelets, the stack of silver notes—ended up in his wife’s hands. Over time, most of it disappeared, squandered who knows where.

So when Zhou Tiezhu demanded they split the family assets, they swore up and down they were broke. In the end, they scraped together twenty measly taels and nothing more.

Zhou Lao San’s wife was no amateur when it came to handling business. She had a sharp mind and an even sharper tongue, running the household like a well-oiled machine. Unlike those who squandered their fortunes on whims and bad decisions, she knew how to stretch every coin of silver until it screamed for mercy.

With her cunning, she turned their savings into something solid: a clay house for shelter, over twenty acres of fertile land ripe for profits, and a small but lucrative market stall in town that brought in steady rent every month. In a village where people barely scraped by, their family stood as a shining example of how to live well.

But let’s not give her sons too much credit. The eldest, pouring money into his so-called education, was hardly a reliable heir. And the second son? A self-indulgent sloth, more interested in food, drink, and showing off than building a future. Between the two of them, they’d burned through most of the hard-earned cash.

Her children scattered: the sons chasing dreams in the town—one buried in books, the other dabbling clumsily in a trade—the eldest daughter already married off, and the youngest, still tucked away at her grandmother’s, refusing to return home. The once-bustling courtyard had now dwindled to just Zhou Lao San and his formidable wife.

But she wasn’t one to sit back and let peace settle. Her mind was constantly spinning, sniffing out conspiracies and schemes. “It’s the Songs, I’m telling you,” she declared with venom. “They’re behind this whole mess, trying to tie down that second daughter of theirs with a marriage deal. That ungrateful little snake!”

Zhou Lao San, usually quiet, frowned deeply. “What’s the point in stirring things up? The second daughter of Old Song’s son is barely fourteen. There’s no rush to marry her off. Two years from now will be just fine.”

His wife’s eyes narrowed into slits, her frustration bubbling over. “Oh, please! If she wasn’t desperate, why did she tie the knot with Zhou Tiezhu? Don’t act like it doesn’t stink of a setup!”

Zhou Lao San shrugged, his voice calm but firm. “Have you even met Tiezhu? That boy’s got skills. He’s not just any farmhand—he killed a damn tiger and sold it for over a hundred taels of silver. Whether he comes back from the army or not, he’s a strong asset. He’ll even help the Songs raise their pigs.”

Her face flushed with anger, the memory of the tiger sending her into a rage. “That tiger! Ugh, don’t even mention it. He’s a useless, ungrateful brat. Could take down a tiger, but what’d he ever bring back for us? Rabbits and pheasants! Did he think we couldn’t feed him? And now, he’s planning to come back alive from war? Ha! Nobody around here survives the battlefield! Not ten miles, not eight villages... Forget it. I’m getting something to eat. This nonsense is giving me heartburn!”

She stormed off, her indignation echoing through the courtyard, leaving Zhou Lao San in the silence he probably preferred.

*

It was Zhou Tiezhu's moment to shine, and he wasn’t about to let it pass unnoticed. With no one left in the yard demanding his attention, the man had a spring in his step. He’d been putting on a bit of weight lately, filling out his frame in a way that made his new clothes sit just right on him. His face, now fuller and rosier, practically glowed under the crisp, vibrant pomegranate-red cover he’d purchased just for the occasion. It was bold, daring, and utterly intentional—a clear statement meant to turn heads and leave a lasting impression.

In these parts, rural weddings didn’t follow strict rules about wearing red or green. Any fresh outfit would do, but Zhou Tiezhu wasn’t about to settle for “acceptable.” That embroidered lotus flower on his bright red cover? Pure flair. It was the kind of detail meant to dazzle during those all-important first three days of marriage before being swapped out for something more mundane. But oh, how that fiery hue clung to its vibrancy, defying time itself.

Meanwhile, the bride, Song Dingxiang, wasn’t one to be overshadowed. She wore a crimson dress stitched from her mother’s old wedding gown, the color still as fierce and attention-grabbing as it must’ve been decades ago. Song Dingxiang didn’t just wear history; she owned it, her family’s pride sewn into every thread. And unlike Taohong—the bride who’d shown up to Xu Xiucai’s place with nothing more than a modest round fan to shield her face as she rode a humble donkey—Song Dingxiang made her entrance in a style that screamed tradition and triumph. Her family rolled out a freshly scrubbed ox cart for the occasion, draped with an impeccable red veil. The display was unapologetically lavish, sparking envy among every young woman in the village who watched with wide eyes and whispered awe.

As the banquet preparations hummed along, someone brought a table to where Song Dingxiang sat, her cover already cast aside. Perched cross-legged on a platform, she chatted easily, the picture of composure. That morning, she’d risen early, her mother summoning a lucky woman from their village and a skilled makeup artist to perfect her look. They’d washed her face, styled her hair, and transformed her from the cherished daughter of one family into the bride of another.

Tradition demanded tears, and Song Dingxiang dutifully delivered, shedding a few practiced drops as her eldest brother carried her out the door. But the act didn’t last long. Once settled, her lips curled into an irrepressible smile, one that no ritual or solemnity could contain. The bride, radiant and unapologetically herself, was ready to claim her place in this new chapter, with the whole village watching.

Why be unhappy?

The daughter boldly claimed she had been married off, but honestly, what’s the real difference between that and marrying into another family? At the end of the day, it’s all the same. A few months later, she’d probably be back at her parents' doorstep, living under their roof again.

And Zhou Tiezhu? Well, forget it. Let the man do as he pleases. No use wasting energy trying to change him.

The daughter’s wedding day came and went. Interestingly, the bride’s family decided not to show up, opting instead to linger in the front yard. Still, the banquet was nothing short of impressive. The tables overflowed with dishes: savory meatballs, tender braised tofu with pork, flavorful blood sausages, and perfectly roasted pork. And let’s not forget the crowning touch—each table featured a glistening, fresh fish.

As the old saying goes, “No banquet is complete without chicken, and no feast without fish.” This spread had it all, an extravagant feast that had the guests eating with gusto, savoring every bite.

Inside the house, Fang’s sharp tongue and probing nature were on full display. Pulling her married-off eldest daughter aside, she pried, “So, what did your third grandpa’s family send over as a gift?”

Song Yulan, ever the dutiful daughter, replied with a knowing smile, “They sent a pair of luggage covers.”

Fang’s brows furrowed. “Just luggage covers? That’s all?”

Song Yulan let out a short laugh. “What else were you expecting? A pair of luggage covers, plain and simple. Although, I did notice their eldest daughter sneaking something wrapped in clothes back and forth a couple of times.”

Fang clicked her tongue, unimpressed, but didn’t press further. Instead, her gaze shifted to her in-laws, her eyes brimming with barely concealed disdain.

Li shi, her mother-in-law, caught the look and snapped, “What’s with that face? Are you here to stir up trouble with me and my husband on such a joyful day? So what if your third uncle’s family didn’t send anything? You want to kick them out?”

Fang shrugged, feigning innocence. “I didn’t say that. I just feel bad for my second daughter.”

Li shi wasn’t having it. “Oh, cut the nonsense! Everyone can see through your little schemes. If I hadn’t stopped you today, you’d have been snooping around your third uncle’s family’s business. Sure, we might be close to them in theory, but when have we ever been that friendly? You act clever, but you’re just a fool.”

“Mother…” Fang tried to defend herself, but under her mother-in-law’s cutting glare, she had no words. Frustrated, she popped a meatball into her mouth, chewing in silence as the tension simmered in the air.

The daughter boldly claimed she had been married off, but honestly, what’s the real difference between that and marrying into another family? At the end of the day, it’s all the same. A few months later, she’d probably be back at her parents' doorstep, living under their roof again.

And Zhou Tiezhu? Well, forget it. Let the man do as he pleases. No use wasting energy trying to change him.

The daughter’s wedding day came and went. Interestingly, the bride’s family decided not to show up, opting instead to linger in the front yard. Still, the banquet was nothing short of impressive. The tables overflowed with dishes: savory meatballs, tender braised tofu with pork, flavorful blood sausages, and perfectly roasted pork. And let’s not forget the crowning touch—each table featured a glistening, fresh fish.

As the old saying goes, “No banquet is complete without chicken, and no feast without fish.” This spread had it all, an extravagant feast that had the guests eating with gusto, savoring every bite.

Inside the house, Fang’s sharp tongue and probing nature were on full display. Pulling her married-off eldest daughter aside, she pried, “So, what did your third grandpa’s family send over as a gift?”

Song Yulan, ever the dutiful daughter, replied with a knowing smile, “They sent a pair of luggage covers.”

Fang’s brows furrowed. “Just luggage covers? That’s all?”

Song Yulan let out a short laugh. “What else were you expecting? A pair of luggage covers, plain and simple. Although, I did notice their eldest daughter sneaking something wrapped in clothes back and forth a couple of times.”

Fang clicked her tongue, unimpressed, but didn’t press further. Instead, her gaze shifted to her in-laws, her eyes brimming with barely concealed disdain.

Li shi, her mother-in-law, caught the look and snapped, “What’s with that face? Are you here to stir up trouble with me and my husband on such a joyful day? So what if your third uncle’s family didn’t send anything? You want to kick them out?”

Fang shrugged, feigning innocence. “I didn’t say that. I just feel bad for my second daughter.”

Li shi wasn’t having it. “Oh, cut the nonsense! Everyone can see through your little schemes. If I hadn’t stopped you today, you’d have been snooping around your third uncle’s family’s business. Sure, we might be close to them in theory, but when have we ever been that friendly? You act clever, but you’re just a fool.”

“Mother…” Fang Shi tried to defend herself, but under her mother-in-law’s cutting glare, she had no words. Frustrated, she popped a meatball into her mouth, chewing in silence as the tension simmered in the air.

———TN: "Go ahead and slam that rate and vote button, it's time to make your mark. Don’t hesitate, hit it hard and let your opinion be known. This is your moment to make it count!"