Chapter 28: Before Weaning, Cut Off the Writer’s Bread
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Madam Zhang’s face, twisted by fury, soon found a new outlet amid the gossip circulating through Shen Family Village.
She no longer mentioned the humiliating matter of the tuition fee. Instead, she put on an expression of utter grief, wiping away tears whenever she encountered anyone and sobbing, “My poor grandson! His mother is heartless. She won’t let him study, and she won’t even give him food. She means to sever the Shen family line!”
The words were vicious and venomous.
In a village that placed great importance on the continuation of one’s descendants, severing a family line was tantamount to digging up someone’s ancestral grave.
For a time, even the women who had originally sympathized with Shen Guilan began to look at her differently.
The rumors grew more and more malicious until, on the morning of the third day, they finally became an outright provocation.
A bundle of filthy clothes reeking of sweat was thrown outside Shen Guilan’s door.
They were the clothes Shen Yongzhi had taken off—not a single piece missing, from undergarments to outerwear.
Madam Zhang was making it plainly known to the entire village: even if Shen Guilan had separated from the family, she was still Shen Yongzhi’s mother. Washing clothes and cooking were chores she was meant to do!
The courtyard gate creaked open.
Shen Guilan stepped outside. When she saw the pile of dirty clothes, she did not even raise her eyelids. There was not a trace of anger on her face; she was as calm as a deep well.
She turned and went back inside. Before long, she came out with a small wooden sign, a brush, and ink.
She drove a nail into the wall beside the courtyard gate and hung the sign upon it.
The onlookers craned their necks to read it. Several lines were written across the surface:
“Guilan Embroidery Workshop
Laundry service available. Three coins per garment, ten coins per quilt or bedding set. Payment first, collection afterward.”
A suppressed gasp rippled through the crowd.
Had Shen Guilan gone mad?
She was actually charging money to wash her own son’s clothes?
When the news reached Madam Zhang, she was so furious she nearly fainted. She immediately dragged Shen Yongzhi along and hurried over.
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“Go! Let her wash them! I want to see whether she truly dares charge her own son!”
Surrounded by a crowd, Shen Yongzhi’s vanity flared up again.
When he reached the gate, he kicked the bundle of clothes aside and shouted at the tightly closed courtyard door, “Shen Guilan! I’m your son! Hurry up and take my clothes to wash!”
The gate opened once more.
Shen Guilan stepped out and swept her gaze over Shen Yongzhi, then over the growing crowd.
Without saying a word, she crouched down and began quietly gathering the clothes.
Shen Yongzhi assumed she had backed down. A smug smile had just appeared on his face when Shen Guilan picked up his outer garments and began counting them in full view of everyone.
“One, two, three… five pieces in all. Fifteen coins.”
“You—”
The smile froze on Shen Yongzhi’s face before his complexion flushed the color of pig’s liver.
The eyes surrounding him felt like knives stabbing from every direction, scorching his entire body.
“I’m your son! Washing my clothes is only right and proper! What gives you the right to charge me?”
“It’s because these hands of mine are meant for embroidery and for supporting Xiuwen, not because I was born to serve you.” Shen Guilan’s voice was not loud, yet every person present heard her clearly.
“You…”
Shen Yongzhi trembled with rage. He had never suffered such public humiliation in his life.
A burst of malicious fury shot to his head. He snatched the clothes away and pulled with both hands.
With a sharp rip, he tore a nearly new outer garment clean in two.
“If you won’t wash them, then don’t! Who wants you to?” Like a man throwing away rubbish, he hurled the torn pieces at Shen Guilan’s face. “I, Shen Yongzhi, would rather wear rags than wear clothes washed by a black-hearted mother like you!”
The scraps of cloth drifted gently to the ground.
Shen Guilan neither dodged nor grew angry.
She merely bent down, picked up the two pieces, and went inside to bring out her sewing basket.
Before everyone’s eyes, she sat down on a low stool and began stitching the torn garment together, one needlepoint at a time.
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Her hands moved quickly and steadily. The stitches were so fine and close together that they were almost frightening, as though she were not mending a garment but weaving a net from thread.
Time passed by degrees. The surroundings fell utterly silent, save for the soft rustling of the needle passing through the cloth.
At last, she finished the final stitch and tied it off with a firm knot.
The garment that had been torn in two had been mended so perfectly that not a trace of the split remained. It looked as good as new.
She rose, held the garment out to Shen Yongzhi, and then slowly extended her hand.
“Mending the garment: three coins.”
Shen Yongzhi stood frozen, like a stone.
He stared at the garment, restored to its original condition, then at the rough yet resolute hand before him. His mind was utterly blank.
Shen Guilan’s gaze remained calm. “If you still acknowledge me as your mother, then you should know how difficult my life is. Every coin is earned through blood and sweat. If you no longer acknowledge me as your mother, then you have even less reason to take advantage of me for free. These three coins—will you pay them or not?”
“Pfft!”
Someone let out the first laugh. Then the laughter spread through the crowd like a rising tide.
Shen Yongzhi’s face reddened as though blood might drip from it.
He felt like a stripped and ridiculous clown, exposed for the entire village to mock.
He shoved her hand away, spat out, “Just you wait,” and turned to flee in disgrace amid the uproarious laughter.
That night, darkness descended so thickly that one could not see one’s own hand before one’s face.
Madam Zhang had completely run out of patience. She summoned two women from the clan with whom she was usually friendly and quietly crept toward the granary at Shen Guilan’s house.
If soft tactics would not work, then they would resort to force!
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