So That's How It Is — Chapter 1

I was the youngest daughter in the Minister of Works' household. From childhood, my parents doted on me, and my elder brother and sister-in-law indulged me at every turn.

The only exception was the husband I had married. No matter how sweetly I coaxed him or how much I pouted, he remained cool and distant.

I had always thought that was simply his nature.

Then, one day, bandits attacked us on the road. My husband and my brother both ran to save my sister-in-law without hesitation. That was when I understood: he was not naturally cold. He simply had no wish to spend that kind of care on me.

Because of what happened that day, I was injured so badly that I could never bear children.

I suddenly realized I could hold a grudge after all. Taking someone's life might be easier than I had ever imagined.

The March wind still carried a trace of chill. It swept along the covered corridor and slipped inside my collar.

I should have stayed in my room. Ever since the incident at Qingyun Temple, I had not been able to get out of bed and walk properly. The wound across my abdomen had been cut deep and long. Even the physician said I had only narrowly escaped death. He had ordered me to rest and recover, and half a month had passed in a haze. Today, at last, I had managed to gather enough strength to consider taking a walk.

The Chu residence had many lovely sights in early spring.

Last year, I had entered the household at this very time of year. The crabapple trees in the courtyard had been covered in blossoms. Chu Jibai had led me beneath their branches, and pale petals had settled across our shoulders. I had never known days more beautiful than those.

I followed the corridor slowly, taking care not to overexert myself. I feared every step might pull at the wound on my stomach.

As I rounded a rockery, I heard quiet voices. Someone was talking nearby.

“How could you have done that that day…?”

I recognized my sister-in-law Xu Jingshu's voice. Since I had been injured, she had come to the Chu residence to visit me three times. Each time, she sat beside my bed, held my hand, and urged me not to dwell on things.

“I know what happened.” The man who answered had a low voice, touched with weariness. It was Chu Jibai. “Everything was chaos that day. How could I have thought through every detail?”

Without thinking, I stepped back and hid between a corridor pillar and the rockery. The shadow there was just deep enough to conceal me.

Though the winter jasmine branches screened my view, I could still see the two of them beneath the crabapple tree through the gaps.

Xu Jingshu wore a spring robe the color of lotus root. It made her already fair face look even more delicate. The redness at the corners of her eyes had not faded. She tilted her face up toward Chu Jibai, and the longer I watched, the more uneasy I became.

The events of half a month ago came rushing back, vivid as if they had happened only yesterday.

That day, Xu Jingshu had wanted to visit Qingyun Temple outside the city to pray for a child. She invited me and Chu Jibai to go with her.

We had traveled only ten li beyond the city when we ran into a band of ruthless robbers. Their gleaming blades flashed toward us, hooves kicked up clouds of dust, and shouts to kill rang out amid the thunder of the horses.

My sister-in-law and I knew no martial arts and could do nothing to help. We could only huddle beside the carriage and watch my brother and Chu Jibai fight. The cold gleam of the blades made our faces go bloodless.

Then someone shouted. Several bandits suddenly changed direction and charged toward us.

Chu Jibai turned his head. Through the chaos, his gaze passed over me and fixed directly on Xu Jingshu. He did not hesitate for even a moment before rushing toward her. At the same time, my brother sprinted from the other side.

They reached her almost together and stopped in front of my sister-in-law, crossing their swords to shield her.

I was three steps away. I watched a blade come straight toward me. A sudden chill pierced my lower abdomen, and pain made my mind reel.

The wound still hurt today. It had left a crooked, raised scar across my lower belly. The physician had told me I would never be a mother.

I had lain unconscious for half a month, unable even to drink water, yet all I could think was: Thank goodness my sister-in-law was safe. Thank goodness my brother was safe. Thank goodness Chu Jibai was safe too.

I had never stopped to wonder why they had both rushed to Xu Jingshu at the same time. I had told myself everything had happened too quickly for anyone to think. Perhaps my sister-in-law had simply been closer to them.

The stone at my back was cold to the bone. I barely dared breathe as Xu Jingshu spoke again, her voice trembling with tears she could no longer hold back.

“Lingyi is your wife now. You ought to treat her wholeheartedly. Besides, she… she won't even be able to have children in the future. You should take even better care of her.”

Chu Jibai let out a cold laugh, his words edged with barbs.

“Back then, you chose Meng Chengzhang, then asked me to marry Lingyi. Didn't I do exactly as you wished? She's my wife now. Do I need you to teach me how to treat her?”

The wind suddenly rose. The winter jasmine branches shook, scattering tiny petals across the ground.

At last, Xu Jingshu began to cry. She wiped her eyes with her sleeve, her voice unsteady.

“I wasn't trying to lecture you. You know that wasn't what I meant…”

Chu Jibai's rigid shoulders softened. He remained standing, but no longer held himself so straight. After a long silence, he sighed and drew a handkerchief from inside his robe. It was grayish blue, its four corners folded neatly.

“I know what I should do,” he said. “First, wipe your tears.”

Xu Jingshu took the handkerchief. Her fingers trembled when they touched it, and she murmured, “You still kept this.”

Chu Jibai said nothing. He only gave a slight nod.

I recognized that handkerchief.

He always kept it close to his body, never letting it out of his sight for even a day. He insisted on washing it himself and never entrusted it to the maids. I had once been curious and coaxed him to show it to me, but he had quietly put it away and said it was only an old thing, not worth mentioning.

So that was how it was. Xu Jingshu had given him that handkerchief. For all these years, he had been unable to part with it, keeping it hidden inside his robe every day. He would not even let anyone else touch it.

The late-March wind turned unbearably cold.

I stood against the chilly rock, my fingernails digging into my palm. A thin film of green moss covered the stone, damp with moisture. When I pressed my hand against it, the surface felt clammy and icy.

Gust after gust shook the slender winter jasmine branches. Yellow blossoms were scattered everywhere. A few petals landed beside the hem of Xu Jingshu's pale-purple skirt, but she did not notice. Head bowed, she used the gray-blue handkerchief to dab at the corners of her eyes.

Chu Jibai stood right in front of her. The wind lifted one corner of his blue robe, revealing the moon-white garment beneath.

His shoulders drooped. He stood without moving, the trace of mockery from earlier entirely gone. Now he was so silent that it seemed he had forgotten how to speak.

“It's getting late.” Xu Jingshu stopped crying, folded the handkerchief, and returned it to him. “Chengzhang said he'd come home early today and have dinner with me.”

Chu Jibai took it. His fingertips brushed along its edge.

“Go back,” he said. “Be careful on the way.”

Xu Jingshu walked toward the hanging-flower gate. After only a few steps, she stopped. She never turned around; her quiet voice drifted back to us.

“Chengzhang feels guilty toward Lingyi. He's probably been a little cold to her lately. Don't take it to heart. In the end, the four of us were the ones who wronged Lingyi first…”

“I understand.” Chu Jibai cut her off. His voice had turned cold again, just as it was whenever he spoke to me. “You don't need to keep reminding me.”

Xu Jingshu's shoulders trembled. She swallowed the rest of her words, lifted her skirt, and hurried out through the gate.

After she disappeared beyond the moon gate, Chu Jibai remained beneath the tree, looking down at the handkerchief. Only after a long while did he carefully tuck it back inside his robe, close to his body.

I pressed my back against the stone wall, trembling all over. The wound in my abdomen throbbed. Beneath the raised scar, it felt as if the flesh had been torn open again, the pain pulling tighter and tighter across my waist and belly.

So that was how it was.

I still remembered the words Chu Jibai had spoken when he came to ask for my hand. He had sat in the main hall of the Meng residence, facing my father and brother, and said he had admired me for a long time. He was willing to prepare the full three letters and six betrothal gifts to marry me.

I knew Chu Jibai was close to my brother and sister-in-law, so I asked them privately what kind of man he was. They hesitated for a long time before saying that he was steady and reliable, someone I could entrust my whole life to.

That day, my face had flushed with embarrassment. I ran back to my tower and buried my face in the bedding, laughing for ages.

He was the man countless young women in the capital dreamed of day and night, yet he had insisted on marrying the youngest daughter of the Minister of Works, a girl who knew only how to act spoiled.

I had thought he liked my lively innocence, that my presence would make life more interesting for him.

Looking back now, my brother and sister-in-law's hesitation had been obvious. They had been afraid I would see their guilt.

I stumbled out from behind the rockery, my legs weak and barely able to support me.

Chu Jibai had long since left. The garden was deserted. The wind scattered the fallen petals toward the wall, where they gathered in shadowed corners. I crouched and picked up a muddy crabapple petal, holding it in my palm for a long time, unable to throw it away.

When I had been carried through the gates after returning from Qingyun Temple, my body covered in blood, he had held my hand beside the bed and said, “I failed to treat you well.”

At the time, I had smiled through the pain and replied, “You can't be blamed. Who could have foreseen it?”

So that was how it was.

I stood, wiped away the tears I had not realized were streaming down my face, and made my way back to my courtyard.

My personal maid, Qingxing, hurried over. When she saw how frighteningly pale I was, her voice rose with worry.

“Madam, why have you been outside so long? Did you pull at your wound again?”

I waved for her not to support me and walked inside by myself.

Silver-frost charcoal burned in the room, which should have been warm, but I was still cold. Even wrapped tightly in my clothes, I could not get warm. I sat before the dressing table. In the bronze mirror, my face was deathly pale, my eyes swollen and red, and a spot on my lip where I had bitten it had dried to a dark stain.

Through my clothes, I pressed a hand to my lower abdomen. The scar was still raised and rough, a long, hard mark on my body that reminded me at every moment of that day.

I could never be a mother.

When the physician told me, I was still bedridden, unable to move, with Chu Jibai keeping watch beside me. I remembered him frowning, then quickly smoothing his expression. He squeezed my hand lightly and said, “It's all right. Having children or not makes no difference.”

Back then, I thought he was being considerate. Now I wondered if he had actually felt relieved. Without children, there would be one fewer unbreakable tie between us. If we had to part someday, there would not be an extra burden.

I had always believed myself blessed. I was born into the Minister of Works' household; my parents could not bear to let me suffer, and my brother and sister-in-law spoiled me. Even the man I married was handsome and distinguished.

If I pouted at my father, he would buy every cosmetic in an entire street for me. If I sulked at my brother, he would invite the finest seamstress in the capital to the residence to teach me.

At the time, I truly thought there was nothing in my life to complain about. Even my marriage had gone as I wished. Last year, when the man I loved stood beneath the crabapple tree and took my hand, I had thought perhaps I would never taste bitterness in this lifetime.

It turned out all that bitterness had been waiting for me.

I sat there until evening fell. The white light outside the window turned a dull gold. Qingxing stood outside and asked whether I wanted dinner, but I did not feel like answering.

Early the next morning, I went out. When I returned, I told Qingxing to deliver a message to the Meng residence, inviting my brother and sister-in-law to lunch. I said my wound had improved and I wanted to prepare a meal myself to thank them for taking care of me.

Qingxing hesitated.

“Madam, you haven't recovered yet. How can you rush into such strenuous work…?”

“It's all right.” I sat before the mirror and combed my hair, drawing the ebony comb through it again and again. “I have my own plans.”

I also sent someone to tell Chu Jibai to come to the flower hall at noon and not miss the meal.

Once I had arranged everything, I went to the small kitchen.

The cooks were startled to see me appear and hurried to make room. I raised a hand to stop them and said I wanted to prepare a few home-style dishes myself. I would only need a few people to assist.

Before, I had rarely even gone near the stove. I had never cooked at my father's home. After I married, I learned to make many dishes to please Chu Jibai. I had never expected that I would have use for those lessons today.