Just a Wet Nurse, Just a Plaything? Everyone Wept After My Death - Chapter 58
Chapter 58
Lunch was served at Songhe Hall.
A steaming tureen of Phoenix Marrow Soup sat on the table. Made from an old hen and fish maw, it had been simmered for three shichen, or approximately six hours, until the broth turned a rich, gleaming gold.
“This soup is quite good. Serve Ruyan a bowl, then serve me one.”
Seated at the head of the table, Old Madam Huo lazily raised her drooping eyelids and pointed at Shen Yingyue, who stood off to one side waiting upon her.
By now, Shen Yingyue’s legs had grown stiff from standing, but she did not dare show the slightest neglect. She stepped forward, wrapped a handkerchief around the porcelain ladle’s handle, and carefully filled a bowl with soup.
Holding the bowl in both hands, she approached Old Madam Huo and respectfully offered it to her.
“Old Madam, please.”
Old Madam Huo made no move to take it. Instead, she swept her shrewd, clouded eyes critically over Shen Yingyue. Her brows suddenly furrowed, and she snorted.
“Why are you holding it so high? Are you trying to scald me to death? Lower it!”
Shen Yingyue had no choice but to lower her hands.
“Lower! Do you expect me to bend over and reach for it? You mannerless wretch!”
Gritting her teeth against the ache in her wrists, Shen Yingyue lowered herself again until she was practically kneeling on the floor.
Just as Old Madam Huo reached out with the hand wearing a jade bracelet and touched the rim of the bowl, her wrist suddenly jerked.
It looked as though she had lost her grip, but in truth, she used the motion to give the bowl a vicious shove.
“Oh! It burned me!”
With Old Madam Huo’s exaggerated shriek, the brimming bowl of scalding chicken soup overturned.
Crash!
Not a drop landed on Old Madam Huo. Instead, the entire bowl splashed squarely across the backs of Shen Yingyue’s hands.
“Ah…”
Shen Yingyue sucked in a sharp breath. Angry red blisters instantly swelled across the backs of her hands. The searing pain drove all the color from her face, and she collapsed onto the floor.
The porcelain bowl fell and shattered into pieces.
“Yingyue!”
Huo Xiao, who had kept his head down throughout the meal, could no longer remain seated. He shot to his feet, instinctively about to rush over and examine Shen Yingyue’s injuries.
“You ungrateful bastard! What do you think you’re doing?”
Before he could take a single step, Old Madam Huo clutched her chest and began wailing, seizing the advantage before he could speak.
“Didn’t you see that vile wench trying to scald your own mother to death?
“Oh, my heart… Ruyan, hurry and rub my chest… What terrible sin did I commit to raise such an unfilial son? You’re going to strike me over a vile wench who tried to murder her mother-in-law!”
Huo Xiao’s feet froze in place.
He looked at Shen Yingyue, sitting on the floor with the backs of her hands red and swollen, cold sweat pouring from her brow in pain.
Then he looked at his mother in the seat of honor, wailing as if she had suffered some monstrous injustice.
The trace of concern on his face was instantly replaced by conflict, helplessness, and irritation.
In the end, the hands that had wielded a heavy sword and slain enemy soldiers clenched tightly into fists. Veins bulged across their backs, yet he still did not reach for Shen Yingyue.
“Servants!”
He spoke through gritted teeth, his voice rumbling like thunder.
“Clean up the floor!
“Take Lady Shen back to Tingfeng Courtyard… and summon the manor physician to examine her.”
With that, he sat back down and lowered his head, refusing to look at Shen Yingyue again. He merely slammed a fist onto the table, making the bowls and chopsticks rattle.
That was how he chose to handle it.
He neither asked who was right nor distinguished right from wrong. For the sake of so-called filial piety, he simply papered over the matter.
Enduring the excruciating pain, Shen Yingyue looked up and gazed deeply at the man.
There was no resentment in her eyes, only a bone-deep chill and the clarity of someone who had finally seen him for what he was.
…
That night, at Tingfeng Courtyard.
Shen Yingyue leaned against the headboard and stared at her hands, which had been wrapped up like a zongzi.
The door opened, and Huo Xiao entered.
He carried a delicate porcelain bottle containing an army-issued wound salve. Worth a fortune and nearly impossible to obtain, it worked wonders on external injuries.
“Does it hurt?”
Huo Xiao sat on the edge of the bed and drew her hand toward him. At the sight of the ghastly redness and swelling, his brows knotted tightly, his eyes filled with heartache and regret.
“This is the finest medicine available. Once it’s applied, the pain will stop, and it won’t leave a scar.”
As he carefully applied the salve, he sighed and tried to reason with her in a helpless tone.
“Yingyue, don’t blame Mother.
“She’s your elder, and she’s getting on in years. Her mind isn’t what it used to be, and it’s only natural for her hands to shake. She didn’t do it on purpose.
“You need to be more careful in the future. Don’t get too close to her, and if there’s no other choice, just humor her.
“As her juniors, suffering a few grievances is nothing. All that matters is keeping peace in the family.”
Shen Yingyue listened in silence, watching the large, rugged man before her carefully explain himself and attempt to smooth everything over.
All of a sudden, she found it almost laughable.
Was this truly Huo Xiao, the imposing and decisive Grand General whom all the people of Yanzhou revered?
On the battlefield, perhaps he was a fearsome hero who could face an army of thousands without so much as furrowing his brow.
But within the confines of his own household, faced with an unreasonable old woman who caused endless trouble, he was as cowardly as an ostrich burying its head in the sand.
No, he was simply spineless.
He could neither protect his own woman nor tell right from wrong. All his might and authority were reserved for the woman beneath him and enemies who did not dare resist him.
Strip the so-called Grand General of his armor, and he was nothing more than a foolishly filial man who had never cut the apron strings.
“You are right, General.”
Shen Yingyue withdrew her hand, her expression as still and indifferent as water.
“I was careless and failed to hold the bowl securely. I frightened Old Madam.”
Seeing her behave so “sensibly,” Huo Xiao breathed a sigh of relief and reached out to embrace her.
“I’m glad you understand. I knew you were the most considerate of all.”
Shen Yingyue did not pull away. She allowed him to hold her.
But this time, her heart was colder than the ice and snow beyond the window.
Resting in the arms of this so-called “hero” and listening to the powerful beat of his heart, she silently began making plans.
This man could not be relied upon.
If she wanted to survive in this man-eating household and protect Nuannuan and Huzi, she could never place her hopes in this outwardly strong yet inwardly weak “paper tiger.”
She had to rely on herself.
