Chapter 29: Huan Zhen, the Village Militia

Wang He explained briefly. It turned out that while Lady Jia was out of the room, Wang Erlang opened her wooden chest where the dowry was kept and took the one hundred and twenty coins. He didn't care if his eldest son saw him; he simply went to the main house to return the money to the elders.

The old couple refused to accept it. After much pushing and shoving, Wang Erlang grew anxious. "I took the money this morning because I didn't want Third Brother to look bad. Didn't you see how utterly hopeless he looked?"

Old Madam Jia clicked her tongue. "Don't speak of your youngest brother like that!"

Old Man Wang snorted. "Well, he's not wrong. A good son, once so promising, now reduced to a pile of useless mud, without a backbone to his name! Enough, since the money was divided among you, there's no reason to take it back. Just take it and go, and don't—"

Before Old Man Wang could finish, Lady Jia, prompted by her eldest son, discovered the purse missing.

This was intolerable! How was life to go on like this?

Of course, Lady Jia would never actually jump into the well. There was only one well in the northern part of the village, and if she threw herself in and died, the villagers would surely drag her out and flog her body.

After her outburst, Lady Jia returned to her parents' home—the convenience of having her family nearby, one at the north of the village, the other at the east.

The next day brought a steady drizzle, so there was no need to go to the fields. Wang Ge worked with bamboo in the utility room, while Wang Shu and Zhang Cang sat across from her, learning.

Wang Erlang, looking miserable, went to fetch his wife and returned home fuming. When the elders questioned him, their anger only grew. It turned out that his wife's parents wouldn't even let him enter the courtyard! They declared that unless he bought Lady Jia a new dress as an apology or purchased her some jewelry, she would stay with them for a while.

With work pressing in the fields and frequent trips to the wild hills for bamboo, losing a laborer at home was unthinkable. The in-laws clearly knew the Wang family had received a reward of one string of coins and wanted to take a large share.

Old Madam Jia wiped away her tears, opened her chest, took out a cloth bundle, and unwrapped it to reveal neatly folded fabric. "This half-bolt of cloth was bought by your father when Third Son married. I've never had the heart to cut into it. Take it and offer it as an apology to your in-laws."

"Mother!"

"Take it! This matter is your fault, Erlang. Don't complain. If your father had quietly taken money and given it to someone else, I'd be upset too."

"But they're not outsiders!"

Old Man Wang spoke up. "Listen to your mother. Remember, when you're in the wrong, don't complain about suffering losses later. When your wife returns, discuss everything with her. The children are grown—don't embarrass yourself in front of the younger generation."

"Alright!" Wang Erlang, both ashamed and angry, stamped his foot hard, grabbed the fabric, and dashed into the rain.

Memories surged violently within him! This half-bolt of cloth had not been kept in his past life either. Back then, Ashu had drowned herself in the river, and his father was stricken with heart disease, fever, and back pain all at once. There was no money left, and his mother sold everything she could to buy medicine, but perhaps the medicine was wrong, for his father grew weaker by the day and suffered until his death. In this life, thanks to his capable niece, who, despite her youth, had courage and resourcefulness, they earned money and bought medicine from the county, curing his father's back pain in just a few days.

But the fabric still had to be given away, and this time, years earlier than before! Even the five hundred coins were being spent little by little and could not be saved in the hands of the elders.

Wang Erlang grew ever more uneasy, afraid that even though things seemed changed, fate could not be escaped.

In the east wing, Yao's wife, who had been secretly watching, grew restless and instructed Third Brother Wang, "Go and find out what your second brother just took."

"Alright."

Wang Ai, snuggled in bed, mimicked her mother with a childish voice: "Go and find out, what did your brother just take?"

Both Yao's wife and Third Brother Wang were startled and exchanged glances. Their reactions differed—Third Brother Wang was just about to scold, "Don’t—"

But before he could finish saying "nonsense," Yao's wife gave Wang Ai a slap on the mouth.

In the utility room, Wang Ge heard Ai crying again and frowned. "It's so rare to have a day off, and yet it's either scolding Apeng or beating Ai."

Wang Shu said wryly, "That's because my mother isn't home. Otherwise, she'd be looking for reasons to pick on me too."

Zhang Cang's little face tensed. "Don't be afraid, Sister Shu. If you get hit, just run to my house."

"Heh, I won't. I'll just run to Cousin."

Wang Ge quickly objected, "Don't do that. The more you rely on me, the harder you'll get hit."

Zhang Cang thought Cousin Ge was joking, but Wang Shu knew she was being serious. She lowered her head, feeling both embarrassed and helpless. Cousin Ge was kind, truly good to her, and taught her weaving with genuine care. But her mother simply couldn't stand Cousin Ge and was always speaking ill of her. Why was that?

Outside, the rain grew heavier.

Wang Erlang returned alone again and reported to the elders that the in-laws' anger had subsided. His mother-in-law had accepted the fabric and was now cordial, but insisted that Lady Jia would return only after her new dress was made—at most two or three days.

The next day, the rain stopped, though gray clouds still veiled the sun now and again, and the country lanes were muddy all over. Wang Ge made extra food for breakfast, leaving enough for her grandfather and father to have lunch, and insisted on accompanying her grandmother to the hillside.

It was truly one step deep, one step shallow—every stride a struggle. Yao's wife grumbled incessantly, "Sister-in-law really knows how to pick her times to go back home. As soon as the rain stops, we have to hurry to work, but where is she? Probably still sleeping."

"I can see now the advantage of having your family nearby!" she went on. "Yesterday, Eldest Brother braved the rain twice to fetch his wife and still couldn't bring her home. What, does she plan to keep everyone waiting until the autumn harvest? What use is such a daughter-in-law to our Wang family?"

Wang He couldn't hold back. "My maternal grandfather's house is close, yes, but my mother only goes back a few times a year. Not as often as you sneak things to Shatun!"

"Hey? You stubborn mule, is that any way to talk to your elders?"

Old Madam Jia intervened. "Enough! If you don't want to work, go home and lie down. Don't stand here chattering and irritating me!"

Wang Ge said nothing and simply supported her grandmother.

At that moment, a small mule-and-horse convoy set out from the nearest post station, Lingshui Pavilion, making its slow way toward Jia’s Village. They were all officials of Lingshui Pavilion—seventeen in total, led by the pavilion chief, with fifteen constables and one with a special status.

That man was the young Huan Zhen.

Every year, the various counties and districts had a road maintenance budget, and the stretch of winding dirt road from Lingshui Pavilion to Jia’s Village was included in this year’s plan. In the outskirts, the wild roads had fixed width standards—five cart tracks wide. All that was needed was to measure the actual length with a distance-recording cart, in order to calculate the required investment of money, materials, and manpower.

A mule pulled the distance cart, and for every li traveled, the wooden man atop the cart would beat a drum once. Huan Zhen, with a stone knife and wooden board in hand, marked down the numbers.

A dozen or so paces behind the group, Tie Feng and Tie Lei rode their spirited steeds, keeping a steady, watchful distance. Tie Feng carried a ring-handled saber on his back; Tie Lei held a bow in his left hand and a quiver of wooden arrows on his back.

According to Magistrate Huan’s orders, the two brothers were allowed to accompany and protect Huan Zhen at all times—but only to intervene in matters of life and death.

At present, Huan Zhen served as a pavilion servant at Lingshui Pavilion, tasked with cleaning the building and tending the stables—the lowest rank among the constables. The other fifteen were either tasked with hunting thieves or acted as guards.

Tie Lei remarked, “Who would have thought? Skipping a few lessons at the Imperial Academy, and now he’s a rural constable—just a stable hand at that.”

Tie Feng replied, "Just a year, and he'll get through it. Sigh!" He sighed deeply, sounding as if he pitied himself more—at least another year before returning to bustling Luoyang.

Tie Lei said, "Last time we came to Jia’s Village, the young master was so full of spirit! Look at him now... How many times has he scratched his head today? He must have lice."

"Eleven times," Tie Feng replied. "By the way, did you do those two horns on the crown of his head today?"