Early the next morning, Wufu awoke to various crisp chirps of birds, punctuated by banging noises from outside. Without needing to think about it, she knew it was her mother, Madam Zhou, preparing breakfast.
Getting dressed in a swift manner, Wufu stepped out into the courtyard to wash up.
"Up already? Breakfast is ready, go wash your face and we can eat. The water in the copper kettle on the stove is hot, mix a bit for washing. Even though summer is approaching, it's still cold in the mornings and evenings. Girls shouldn't seek out the cold. It's better to wash your face with lukewarm water," Madam Zhou admonished.
Wufu responded with an "Oh," understanding that although her mother seemed timid and delicate, her maternal love was undiluted. People in ancient times usually valued sons more, yet her mother cherished Wufu no less, never neglecting or abusing her simply because she was a girl.
Madam Zhou's gaze then fell on the skirt Wufu was wearing, and her brow furrowed slightly. "After breakfast, I'll go to the silk shop in town to sell the embroidery work from these past days, then I'll buy a length of Pine Flower Fabric to make you a new skirt, okay?"
Wufu was taken aback, looking down at her own dress—it had two big patches, and the fabric was somewhat old. She couldn't recall how long she had been wearing it.
Looking at what Madam Zhou was wearing, she noted it was no different—old and patched, even more so than her own.
Yet even so, Madam Zhou only spoke of making a new skirt for her, not for herself.
Wufu glanced at her mother. For all these years, mother and daughter had relied only on each other. They used to have the support of her scholarly grandfather, who often helped out secretly, and with Madam Zhou's embroidery work, life wasn't too difficult.
But life for a woman alone with an illegitimate daughter was always harder than for most families, especially after her grandfather's death. Without his protection, they were often bullied by relatives. Anything of value at home had nearly all been taken by Elder Maternal Aunt, Madam Lu, under various pretexts.
As a result, Madam Zhou didn't have a single piece of jewelry on her. The only things on her ears were two red cords. As for her hair, she just held it up with a wooden pin, and her clothing was nothing but patched dresses.
In fact, Madam Zhou had been quite beautiful. She was delicate and gentle, and if she dressed up, she wouldn't look inferior to those from great households. What a pity that she was just a woman who couldn't raise her head in public, having secretly pledged herself to a man and given birth to a child of sin.
No wonder the men outside cast their eyes this way—as if a mother and daughter unprotected and yet blessed with beauty were like sheep watched eagerly by predators, or like thorns in the eyes and flesh of some women.
Wufu sighed softly, her lips curving slightly, "Bring the fabric back and make something for yourself. I can still wear what I have now. It's you who haven't made new clothes for a long time."
Madam Zhou was surprised. What was going on? Hadn't she been fussing about wanting to make a light dress before?
"You're a grown girl now, you should dress up. When your father comes to pick…" Madam Zhou's voice faltered under Wufu's slowly chilling gaze, feeling uncertain and a twinge of heartache.
Her daughter harbored animosity towards her father.
Just as she was about to say something to make amends, suddenly they heard people outside shouting in panic, as if terribly frightened. The mother and daughter exchanged glances, opened the courtyard door, and looked out.
They saw a man dressed in hunter's attire and carrying a basket on his back rushing down from the mountain, shouting that the Mountain Demon had wreaked havoc and hung Ma Dan, the town rascal, from a tree.
Madam Zhou's face turned slightly pale.
Wufu's gaze flashed, the corners of her mouth curling up.