After picking up the shards of the pottery jar she had shattered, Wufu retrieved the wooden box that Madam Lu almost snatched away and placed it back into the cabinet. Turning her head, she saw Madam Zhou at the door, watching her with eyes full of panic, and couldn't help but sigh softly.
"Wufu, are you, are you all right?" Madam Zhou asked weakly.
"I'm standing right in front of you, alive and well. What could possibly be wrong?" Wufu retorted.
But Madam Zhou watched her, whispering, "But just now, your Aunt…" She didn't dare to say that a moment ago Wufu had looked like she was about to kill someone. She only felt that Wufu's demeanor made her afraid.
If Wufu had been entangled by some Evil Cult, how could she ever face her father?
"The sun is about to set. Aren't you going to cook?" Wufu spoke up to remind her, dodging the earlier topic.
"Ah? Oh, yes, Mother will go right now!" As though just snapping out of it, Madam Zhou, with a startled expression, hurriedly walked out the door.
Wufu followed her out, taking her own basket to the kitchen, where she took out the half pheasant and rabbit she had hunted in the mountains, setting them on the stove.
"This..." Madam Zhou saw these things and looked at Wufu.
"I hunted them in the mountains today. I've already eaten half the chicken. You deal with the rest," Wufu explained.
Madam Zhou glanced at her face, expressing some disapproval, "It's already May, and the weather is getting hotter. You've been running up to the mountains recently, and your face has gotten tanned. How can a young lady behave like this?"
Wufu looked at her.
Madam Zhou was somewhat intimidated by her gaze, but thinking of Wufu's recent actions, she still mustered the courage to say, "Mother knows you don't like to hear this, but your father comes from a family of scholars and is a proper scholar himself. You were meant to be a lady of standing, but you run to the mountains every day, wild as a monkey. If your father comes back to get us and sees you like this, how..."
Wufu had almost heard such words every day, no, perhaps it would be correct to say she had been listening to them for fourteen years. She interrupted, "If he wanted to come, he would have come long ago." Why else would there not be a single sign of him?
Regrettably, Madam Zhou hadn't given up hope and still had full confidence in that faithless man, firmly believing he would come for them. Wufu didn't know whether to call her pitiful or laughable.
Madam Zhou's body staggered upon hearing Wufu's words, her complexion turned deathly pale, her lips trembled, and tears quickly filled her eyes.
Seeing her stricken appearance, Wufu didn't stop but continued, "We've survived all these years, just the two of us. Mother, you should stop waiting too. Even without him, we can live."
"Don't you dare say that!" Madam Zhou suddenly became agitated, her voice piercing, "Your father promised he would come for us, and he will! Maybe, maybe he's just been delayed by something!"
"Can a delay last fourteen years?" Wufu scoffed, "Perhaps it's not a delay. Maybe he's dead?"
At the sound of that word, Madam Zhou's body shook again, and she had to steady herself on the stove. Her fragility made Wufu feel like an utterly wicked woman.
"Shut your mouth, don't curse your father like that!" Madam Zhou clenched her teeth, as if trying to persuade both Wufu and herself, she repeated, "He just got held up by something!"
He had promised, after settling his family affairs, he would send eight grand palanquins to fetch her and marry her.
He wouldn't lie to her—yes, he must have been delayed.
"You don't believe it yourself, do you?" Wufu said indifferently, exhaled a long breath, and turned to leave the kitchen.
Behind her, Madam Zhou's soft crying could be heard, making Wufu shake her head.
What a fool!