Chapter 2 — The Crimson Bloom of Ill-Fated Ties

Furthermore, at this precise moment, this reaction—it was almost reflexive. That little girl was undoubtedly the child of Concubine Chu. She stared at me, eyes wide, clearly struck by the same realization. But I could not accept it. How could there be another child? Why had we never heard of such a thing before? And if, from the very beginning, the burden in my womb was nothing but a cursed fetus housing the wicked soul of Wu the Second, then why was I craving pig skin, only to retch violently upon eating it? And why did Concubine Chu, after merely sampling a few pieces of watermelon, suffer such prolonged illness? Physiological reactions do not lie. I struggled to reconcile these facts. Yet, I could not explain the voice of that young girl. When she collapsed, I had remained seated, completely motionless, offering no cause for the fetus to feel pain. If that girl were my own child, she truly would not have screamed. Concubine Chu looked at me, a glimmer of pity in her eyes. It belongs to you, she wrote. Let me think on this further. Perhaps you are simply suffering from morning sickness, and I merely caught a chill, having nothing to do with the pork or the melon, she scribbled hastily. Finally, she looked at me with weary eyes and wrote three final words: Safflower abortion decoction.

I did not continue writing. It was not that I refused to drink it, but rather that I needed to resolve the confusion gnawing at my heart. Why were these physiological responses so bizarre? I tossed and turned all night, unable to find an answer. Conversely, that damned cursed fetus remained silent, as if it had fallen into a deep sleep, awakening only at mealtimes to wreak havoc. Wu the Second was indeed loquacious, possessed of a petty, nagging mouth, especially when it came to critiquing the meals of others. When I sipped pork rib soup, he complained it was too oily. When I ate stir-fried wood ear mushrooms, he sneered that it was over-salted. But when Concubine Chu dined, there were no such discordant noises. Her child was silent, never uttering a word, never causing the slightest annoyance. Listening to this stark contrast, I sighed, offering a bitter smile, finally forced to accept the truth I had most dreaded: the cursed fetus was indeed mine.

Come the afternoon, I would drink the safflower decoction. I had to snuff out this demonic pregnancy while it was still in its infancy, before the stirrings of maternal instinct could take root. At that very moment, Dao Diep brought in a plate of jellied marine worms. I had no appetite, yet the sight of the cool, refreshing dish sparked a fleeting desire to eat, and I reached out to take a piece into my bowl. The moment I took a bite, the voice of Wu the Second roared out:

“What kind of wretched trash is this? It’s absolutely revolting! You vile woman, if you dare to eat this, I will kick you to death!”

Instantly, a pain more intense than any I had ever known surged through my womb. I collapsed to the floor. But it seemed as though I could no longer feel the agony. The fragmented memories of the past few days flashed through my mind like a lantern display, finally halting at a single point. Wu the Second was a native of Minnan, having lived there until he was twenty-five. Jellied marine worms were a local delicacy of that region. Every native knew of it, every soul recognized it. He was not Wu the Second. He could not possibly be Wu the Second. At that same moment, my eyes lit up, and I nearly screamed aloud:

“I know what this is!”

When I regained my composure, Concubine Chu was anxiously shaking my shoulders.

“Sister, what is wrong? What have you figured out?”

I did not answer, but my thoughts became increasingly clear. If this male child was not Wu the Second, then who? My memories surged into the past. Why were we so certain he was Wu the Second? Because we had investigated the prisoners sentenced to death three years prior, and he was the only one who was illiterate. Why did we seek out an illiterate man? Because the voice did not know how to read, and it mocked us for drawing superstitious charms. But—what if he had been literate all along? What if he had observed our reactions, guessed that we could hear his inner thoughts, and everything thereafter had been a performance? Was it possible that this prisoner of unknown identity, wishing to hide his tracks, had feigned illiteracy to lower our guard, all while monitoring the plans we wrote on paper? From beginning to end, he knew how to read. He was not Wu the Second. He was one of the other four men sentenced to death! I gripped Concubine Chu’s hand.

“Do you remember among those prisoners, who was held in the same cell as Wu the Second?”

She rolled her eyes in thought, still somewhat bewildered.

“It seems there was a local man surnamed Zhang. What of him?”

My voice trembled with excitement:

“What was his crime?”

“Um, it seems… he conspired with his mistress to murder her husband.”

“Those are the two!”

I sprang from the bed, my expression turning grim.

“Zhang Wenzhao and Yun Shi. This time, it is not one cursed fetus, but two. Yours, mine—both fetuses are the spawns of wickedness. They are the very adulterous pair you just mentioned! Zhang Wenzhao and Yun Shi!”

Under the bewildered gaze of Concubine Chu, I recounted the entire plan of those two villains.