Chapter 121: Chapter 71 Animosity_1
The rain pattered, Shengjing’s night was dim and heavy, exuding the crisp chill of autumn.
By the time Qi Chuan returned home, it was deep into the quiet night.
The roof leaked rainwater, which trailed down the wall to form a small puddle on the ground. Stepping into it unwittingly, his thin-soled boots instantly soaked through.
He pulled his wet leg free and pushed the door open to enter.
Inside, the room was lit by a lamp on the table, where a young woman in a satin robe sat on the outer divan drinking wine. Shrimp shells were tossed carelessly all over the floor, the room redolent with the smell of alcohol.
This was Qi Chuan’s wife, Mrs. Ma.
She was somewhat drunk, squinting disapprovingly at the water stains on Qi Chuan’s clothes that dampened the floor, and muttered, "Filthy!"
Qi Chuan paid her no heed and merely glanced inside, asking, "Is Jiu’er asleep?"
Jiu’er was Qi Chuan’s son. Mrs. Ma grunted in response.
He nodded and took off his soaked outer garment, tossing it into the wooden tub at the doorway where they washed clothes.
Mrs. Ma held the wine jug, staring at him dazedly for a long while before shuffling forward a few steps to the edge of the divan and asking, "Has the matter with our son’s academy been settled?"
Qi Chuan paused, then shook his head.
Jiu’er had reached the age to attend school, and it was time to choose an academy for him. But now in Shengjing, the good official schools were inaccessible, and Qi Chuan looked down on the lesser ones. He had been exasperated by this matter for some time, and even after two or three months, there was still no resolution for Jiu’er’s education.
Upon hearing this, Mrs. Ma’s nostrils flared, her lips curled disdainfully to one side, and she spat, "Useless!"
A vein throbbed on Qi Chuan’s forehead as he responded in a low voice, "Keep it down, be careful not to wake Jiu’er!"
But Mrs. Ma grew even more irritated, babbling curses, "Utterly worthless, I told you long ago to flatter and ingratiate yourself with the higher-ups on a regular basis. Everyone who started in the Trial Court with you is now doing better than you. You’re still just a Record Keeper. It goes without saying that your salary is meager, yet the daily expenses keep piling up. Look at yourself, drenched like a homeless dog, you only look dapper on the outside. I must have been blind to marry you, thinking I was becoming an official’s lady, only to lead a miserable life with a ruinous scoundrel like you!"
Qi Chuan looked at her lips moving up and down, resembling in the weak lamplight a giant greedy fish, swallowing the strewn shrimp shells and the oppressive black night all at once.
Mrs. Ma was not a wife he had chosen for himself.
Having followed Fan Zhenglian for many years, from Yuan’an County back to Shengjing City, Qi Chuan had helped Fan Zhenglian solve many challenging cases. He was Fan Zhenglian’s most reliable pen, someone Fan Zhenglian couldn’t do without, handling all his affairs, including matchmaking for him.
Mrs. Ma was the niece of the nanny in old Mrs. Fan’s service, and her family all worked for the Fan Family. Old Mrs. Fan had offered her niece to him as recognition, trust, and as a barefaced form of surveillance.
It was meant to tie him permanently to the Fan Family, constantly reminding him that he wasn’t a prestigious candidate in the imperial examinations, nor the astute county magistrate of Yuan’an, but a Record Keeper in the Trial Court in name only, and just another ordinary servant of the Fan Family.
Mrs. Ma was irascible and indulgent, always drinking and cursing daily, resenting him for not currying favor with the Fan Family and consequently finding his career in a dead end. Like right now, when he came home in the rain, she showed not the slightest concern, only knowing how to wound with her curses.
"Just the son of a poor family, thinking you’re something special just because you’ve read a few books? You’re nothing but a lowly person, destined to be an unlucky servant for life!"
He had heard such remarks many times and was accustomed to them, stirring not even the slightest ripple in his heart. But perhaps it was because the rain tonight was too cold, or he was too weary, that these words suddenly brought back the mockery he had endured in the Trial Court.
Servant, lowlife, this was how he appeared in their eyes.
In the dark corner of the broken room, there were fresh eggs and sweet potatoes piled up, covered with an oilcloth to protect them from the dripping rain. Yet they seemed like a sharp arrow, piercing the man’s eyes in an instant.
These were the local eggs he had gone to the countryside specifically to find. With the matter of Jiu’er’s education unresolved and Fan Zhenglian’s constant prevarication, he had taken these offerings to the household, hoping that Zhao Feiyan, being more compassionate as a woman, might lend a hand given his years of hard work for the Fan Family. After all, it would be a small effort for them.
However, those local goods were ultimately returned to him unopened.
The words of the maid beside the lady doctor echoed again in his ears.