ATLAS TRANSLATES

After that day, Mother fell ill. Dou Zhao was very worried and stayed by her mother’s side every day. Mother would smile and stroke her head, saying, “I’m fine, I’ll get better soon. Go play!” Yet her face grew paler with each passing day.

Father came to visit her. Mother took Father’s hand on her own. Father’s fingers were long, fair, and well-defined, as straight and elegant as bamboo.

“I love seeing you smile,” Mother pressed Father’s hand against her cheek. “Every time you smile at me, I think to myself, how can someone smile so joyfully, so carefree? Like spring sunshine warming my heart.”

“The doctor says your pulse is stable. Rest well, you’ll recover soon,” Father’s eyes reddened. “When you’re better, I’ll smile for you every day.”

“Silly!” Mother smiled, looking at him like a mischievous child, with a hint of indulgence. “Two people smile together because they’re happy. When you’re not happy, you naturally won’t smile. Don’t force yourself.”

Father was stunned.

Mother continued with a smile, “I just wanted you to apologize, to tell me you weren’t doing well without me.”

Father was taken aback, then smiled sheepishly, “I’m not used to you ignoring me.”

“Without me by your side, you’re just not used to it!” Mother teased him playfully, her gaze very tolerant and peaceful, though her voice gradually grew softer, “I thought only I could make you smile so happily. But it seems others can make you laugh heartily too…”

Father couldn’t hear clearly what Mother said. He leaned over her bed and asked gently, “What did you say?”

“Nothing!” Mother smiled, “I’m just a bit tired!”

“Then rest your voice.” Father held Mother’s hand, “I’ll stay here with you until you fall asleep.”

Mother nodded and closed her eyes, quickly falling asleep.

Dou Zhao, who had been eavesdropping, ran out and angrily threw her small sandbag from the heated kang onto the ground.

What was this supposed to be? Making up?

The thought flashed through her mind, followed by dejection.

What difference would it make if they made up?

She still needed a brother!

But why did it feel like hands were gripping her heart, making her chest feel so tight?

Dou Zhao sat blankly by the kang.

Father came out from the inner room and, seeing Dou Zhao, paused his steps and sat beside her: “Shou Gu, everyone says you’re clever, that you can now speak in long sentences. Say something for me to hear?”

Dou Zhao glanced at Father, then lowered her head to play with the sandbag in her hands.

Father smiled good-naturedly, “This sandbag is made very delicately. Who helped you make it?”

Dou Zhao still didn’t answer him.

Father wasn’t bothered and chuckled as he picked up Dou Zhao: “Come, let Father teach you how to write!”

“I don’t like writing,” Dou Zhao said rebelliously, “I want to go on the swing!”

“Alright!” Father smiled, “Let’s go swing.”

The back garden was still lush with competing flora.

After swinging with Father for a while, Dou Zhao’s mood gradually improved.

Perhaps Mother was right.

Taking the initiative to make peace, keeping Father in her room… it was better than continuing this cold war with no way to save face.

She looked at Father more favorably now.

“Father, push higher!”

“Alright!”

Father pushed her high into the air.

She felt like she was riding the wind, watching every blade of grass and tree in the Dou residence expand and shrink beneath her feet. She saw someone washing clothes by the well in the side courtyard, saw Aunt Ding scolding a young maid under the eaves, saw Mother’s courtyard eerily quiet with no one in sight… It was as if everything around her was captured in her eyes. The feeling was wonderfully interesting.

Dou Zhao’s laughter fell like pearls on jade, clear and melodious.

Father also smiled with raised eyebrows.

Only Tuo Niang foolishly jumped out, blocking in front of Dou Shi Ying: “Seventh Master, it’s too high! Fourth Miss will fall off, please let her down quickly!”

Dou Shi Ying recognized Tuo Niang and smiled, “I didn’t expect you to be so loyal!” Instead of scolding her, he walked around her and pushed Dou Zhao on the swing again with force.

Tuo Niang was anxiously sweating.

Dou Zhao enjoyed Tuo Niang’s concern and laughed very happily.

She saw Yu Mama running hurriedly from Mother’s room, standing on the steps under the eaves and calling out. The previously invisible maids and wives surged over like a tide and then scattered in all directions, creating a somewhat chaotic scene.

What had happened?

When the swing rose again, Dou Zhao stretched her neck to look toward the main courtyard.

The young maids were still in disarray, but Yu Mama had disappeared.

Dou Zhao grew suspicious and instructed Father: “Stop, stop.”

Father pulled the swing to a stop and smiled, “So our Shou Gu is a little coward.”

Dou Zhao didn’t argue with him, but just as her feet touched the ground, Yu Mama ran over, pale-faced and panting.

“Seventh Master,” she said tearfully, her eyes red and looking like she was about to cry, “Seventh Mistress, she… Seventh Mistress… has hanged herself!”

“What did you say?” Father’s eyes widened, his smile frozen on his face, “Who? Who hanged themselves!”

“Seventh Mistress, Seventh Mistress…” Yu Mama cried, her legs giving way as she fell to her knees, “Seventh Mistress has hanged herself…”

Dou Shi Ying looked around bewildered.

Seeing his daughter standing beside him as still as if under a freezing spell, he finally felt a bit of reality.

“How could this… she was fine just now…” he mumbled, his tall frame suddenly seeming much shorter, his face as yellow as gold paper, lips pale and trembling.

Dou Zhao had lost the ability to speak, her mind thundering like ten thousand horses galloping.

Why did Mother still have to die?

Wasn’t Wang Ying Xue already a concubine?

Even if she had a son, he would only be the eldest concubine-born son…

Why did Mother still have to die?

Then what was the meaning of her coming back?

Dou Zhao stubbornly pursed her lips, her small hands tightly clenched into fists.

The spring sunlight was gentle and warm, quietly shining on the two clay-like figures, one large and one small. Only the swing continued to move, attracting several colorful butterflies to dance around it, competing in beauty.

—

Dou Zhao wore a coarse hemp mourning robe, kneeling expressionlessly before the spirit tablet, mechanically kowtowing and returning greetings according to the chanting.

Mother had died by suicide, which wasn’t considered a blessed passing. With elders still in the household, they could only hold thirty-five days of memorial services.

Without anyone to take charge, Grandfather asked Third Uncle and Third Aunt to help arrange Mother’s funeral, and even gave Mother the nanwood coffin he had prepared for himself.

Those who came to pay their respects and burn incense inevitably asked about the cause of death.

The Dou family uniformly told outsiders it was a sudden illness, and listeners couldn’t help but shed tears: “…she wasn’t even twenty years old!”

Dou Zhao’s eyes reddened.

Yes, how could she forget, though Mother was her mother, she wasn’t even twenty years old!

How could she expect a twenty-year-old mother to understand what she herself only understood at thirty?

Some wounds, buried deep in the heart, though raw and bleeding, show no trace on the surface.

Mother had never truly felt at ease, had never truly let go, had she?

Dou Zhao looked across.

Father, dressed in plain white, had a greenish complexion and sunken eyes, looking extremely haggard.

He was kneeling before the mourning basin, burning spirit money for Mother one sheet at a time, his expression serious and devout, as if he were holding sacred prayer papers.

Wang Ying Xue, with red-rimmed eyes, walked over and knelt beside Father. She silently took a stack of spirit money from the side, tearing them open one by one and throwing them into the mourning basin with Father.

“Seventh Master!” her voice was hoarse with a hint of choking, “You’ve been kneeling here for a day and night. If this continues, your health will collapse… We still need you to handle Sister’s funeral arrangements!”

Father didn’t make a sound, gently pulling the spirit money from Wang Ying Xue’s hands and continuing to burn it.

A flash of embarrassment crossed Wang Ying Xue’s face. She knelt there for a long time, but Father never looked at her once. Her eyes dimmed slightly as she quietly withdrew.

Sixth Uncle came over and took Father’s arm: “Wan Yuan, don’t be like this. The deceased have passed, the living should take care of themselves.”

Father refused to get up.

In front of his good friend and cousin, he began crying softly: “I promised Gu Qiu we would have five sons and three daughters… Now she’s gone, and there isn’t even anyone to break the spirit tablet… Just let me burn some more spirit money for her… My heart aches so much…”

Sixth Uncle stamped his feet, though his eyes were glistening: “Even if you’re heartbroken, now isn’t the time!” His voice gradually deepened, “Rui Fu has returned! He didn’t participate in the Imperial Scholar selection…”

Dou Zhao raised her head.

Rui Fu was her uncle Zhao Si’s courtesy name.

“By my calculations, he should arrive soon,” Sixth Uncle said bitterly, “Have you thought about what to say when you meet Rui Fu? Third Brother and the others are in Uncle’s study. We need to agree on how to explain this beforehand…”

“Explain? What is there to explain?” Father mumbled, his mind clearly still wandering. “It’s all my fault… That time when Yu Mama said she wanted to hang herself, I thought she was just trying to threaten me… I didn’t know she was truly heartbroken and desperate… I knew nothing, yet was smugly pleased thinking I had won… She said she was waiting for me to apologize, to admit that I wasn’t doing well without her…”

He collapsed before his wife’s spirit tablet and began sobbing, “I didn’t know it would be like this, truly didn’t know… I promised Brother-in-law I would take good care of Gu Qiu, that I would be good to her for life… I broke my word… She said I was despicable… She wasn’t wrong at all…”

“Wan Yuan, Wan Yuan!” Sixth Uncle wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and tried hard to pull Father up, “We can talk about this later. Right now, the urgent matter is giving Rui Fu an explanation. You can’t act on impulse.”

Father shook his head, saying lifelessly, “I wronged Gu Qiu. After I finish her funeral arrangements, he can deal with me however he wants!”

Sixth Uncle was furious. He called two servants to come and carry Father to He Shou Hall.

Dou Zhao ran out.

Wang Ying Xue was standing under the magnolia tree outside the memorial hall, staring blankly at the retreating figures of Father and Sixth Uncle.

Dou Zhao called out to her: “Concubine Wang!”

Wang Ying Xue turned around, glancing at the servants outside the memorial hall, and walked over with a proper smile: “Shou Gu, what is it?” Her tone was gentle.

“You really want to have a son, don’t you?” Dou Zhao looked up, her black eyes fixed on Wang Ying Xue’s, speaking in a voice only the two of them could hear, “But unfortunately, this child you’re carrying is a girl! After the mourning period, when the new mistress arrives, who knows if she’ll be as easy to get along with as my mother?”

“You…” Wang Ying Xue shuddered, backing away in terror, looking at her as if she were seeing a monster.

Dou Zhao was very satisfied.

She coldly curled her lip and walked past her with the posture of a pine tree.