Golden Stage Chapter 7

[Welcome to a hastily picked up translation.
The long and short of it is… this is a novel I hold close to my heart, and now that the previous translator has been MIA for four months, I'm anxious about it getting picked up by someone who might not do it justice. Not that I'm a 100% Hot s.h.i.+t translator or anything, but a different novel I had been following for a while suddenly got picked up by someone who is literally copying and pasting MTL translations and now I'm kinda paranoid. If someone did that to this novel I would probably be mad about it until the day I died. Literally, on my deathbed, “that translation of Golden Stage was f.u.c.king awful. *flatlines*”
…So here I am, staking my tentative claim on this. Updates will be once a week on Sat.u.r.days, but once I get into the swing of things, I'll update multiple times a week.]

While Mr. Yan despaired about his life of toil and endured a hefty dose of suffering in the palace, the matter he was concerned over – the Estate of the Marquis of Jing Ning – was in great chaos.

A few days before, when Fu Shen and his crew had just settled down, his little sister Fu Ling, the Prince of Qi's wife, dispatched people from her household to pay respects, bring gifts, and pa.s.s along the message that she was going to come and visit in person some other day. Fu Shen really didn't have the strength to deal with her and had misgivings about his Estate not being her proper maternal home [1]. Fearing that the Prince of Qi would get suspicious, he turned this down on the spot. “There's no need. Have her take care of herself first.”

These people from the Prince of Qi's Estate had once been subordinates of the Duke of Ying's Estate and had come along with Fu Ling as part of her dowry. They were well versed in the Eldest Son's propensity for being a straightforward speaker and didn't dare to doubt even half a word of his, so they returned to Fu Ling and relayed what he'd said.

When the response came, the Prince of Qi, Sun Yunduan, happened to be present, and he couldn't keep from shaking his head. “Marquis Fu is quite a bit unreasonable…”

From the time Fu Ling caught wind of Fu Shen's injury up until now, she was so worried she couldn't sleep, secretly crying a few times behind people's backs. Upon hearing that familiar, blunt, club-like manner of speaking, she calmed down for reasons she couldn't understand. “Forgive this poor display, My Prince,” she said, jaw clenched, “My older brother has always been this way; a dead duck that won't quack about his own mistakes.”

They being a young, happily-married couple with mutual respect, he poked fun at it. “And now you'll venture to arrange for it behind his back?”

Fu Ling flushed with shame. “He has a cold face, but a warm heart, and he's actually very good to me. He just isn't one of many words. I don't know what kind of wife will be suitable for him in the future.”

Recalling the rumor his subordinate had reported back to him, the Prince intentionally diverts the subject. “Who knows what sort of fated wedlock that would be? Marquis Fu has only just returned to the capital, and his Estate is presumably in an all-around state of chaos. It wouldn't be appropriate for you to visit now.” He tugged at her hand, gently rocking it. “Wait a few more days for him to settle down, and then you can pay a visit to his home, alright?”

Fu Ling's eyes sparkled. “My Prince would be willing to let this consort leave the Estate?”

The Prince tilts his head to press a kiss to her cheek, giving her a droopy smile. “That's your big brother, not an outsider. There's no harm in it. You just need to promise this Prince that you'll be careful with your body. You absolutely mustn't do anything rash…”

A patch of red clouds immediately suffuses upon her face, the blazing color of it as bright and beautiful as her. “I know,” she whispers.

The sky is gloomy today, the wind colder than it used to be, and it seems like it's going to rain. Fu Shen's injury is most sensitive to this type of weather, and it troubles him with incessant pain. Just as he was to call for someone to push him into the study so he could find a bit of light reading to take his mind off it, a servant came to report that the Prince of Qi's Consort had made a personal visit, her carriage parked outside the gate.

Fu Shen now has a headache. “Such a nuisance… help me up. Uncle Fu [2], have Xiao Xun and my personal guards withdraw a bit and constrain the servants to the read courtyard to avoid any possible offense. Invite the Consort into the main hall and find either some older women or young boys to wait on her. I'll go to change my clothes.”

Within the main hall, Fu Ling wasn't in the mood for drinking tea, nervously twisting up her handkerchief over and over again. A short moment later, there came the sound of wooden wheels sliding against the floor. She lost all self-control and stood up, turning her head just in time to meet with Fu Shen's eyes as he was seated in a wheelchair.

Fu Shen might have not prepared for this, as he was obviously staring in bewilderment.

She gazed at him mutely, as if she'd suddenly forgotten how to talk. The image of her invincible, indomitable older brother from her memory was shattered and wrongfully nestled within a crudely-made bamboo wheelchair, his appearance especially sharp due to how much he'd wasted away. He showed her a smile, albeit not very skillfully.

Unable to bear this any longer, tears welled in her eyes as she threw herself at him and began to wail.

The old maidservant who came to accompany her was scared witless. Fu Shen was thrown backwards by her pouncing on him, but he still used his arms to steady her and return her embrace. “Hey, miss, take it easy… did you never stop being seven years old, little Madam?” [3]

The strings of her heart that had been stretched taut finally snapped clean off, and she bawled while suffused with tears. “You scared me to death… mom and dad are gone, you're the only family I have left…”

His breath hitched.

The knot of cold frost tying up his own heart melted into warm water. He moved with cautious awkwardness to lightly pat her on the shoulder. “Don't cry, it's alright,” he said, voice low. “I'm here. Don't be sad.”

If General Fu was a star that had descended from the Heavens, the Prince of Qi's Consort might have been the reincarnation of a rain G.o.d. The Marquis of Jing Ning's home was nearly overflowing with tears. Fu Shen was trying hard to console his little sister, being both physically and mentally exhausted, and he pressed a hand against his temple. “I said not to come earlier, and you didn't listen, insisting on running over her to make a big sobbing scene even if you might hurt yourself,” he said helplessly. “So you made the trip here. And now the courtyard of my house doesn't need to be watered for another three years.”

Fu Ling was was.h.i.+ng her face with hot water and straightening herself up when he she heard a fluttering giggle. “Don't you make fun of me,” she grumbled. “Think of how I feel. Having me sit on pins and needles at home would hurt me the most.”

He was smothered by her short words, bitterly putting down his hand.

She went to sit beside him once more, having accomplished her tidying-up. Looking at the thin blanket covering his legs, she can't keep the worry off her face. “Big brother, can your injury… really not be cured? There's many famed doctors in the capital. Or, I could ask the Prince for his a.s.sistance…”

“The Emperor already sent someone to diagnose and treat it,” Fu Shen replied, simply and concisely.

Words fail her, a flash of disappointment showing on her face, which morphed into a strong smile right after. “That's okay. If there's no way to treat it… then it doesn't matter, so long as you're okay. You're going to stay in the capital and not go anywhere else from now on, right?”

Her hope-filled gaze was like a knife stabbing straight into his heart.

He didn't want to lie to her, but he couldn't bear to make her upset, so he had to make a vague “hm” noise.

She simply gave a smile that came from the bottom of her heart. Following a period of non-stop chatter, she asked, “Ah, right. Has anyone from the family been sent to visit you?”

She wasn't mentioned. Fu Shen didn't think of the Duke of Ying's household as a family. A chilling laugh was his only response.

Fu Ling feels forlorn at that. “I had thought that though she didn't like us, she was still the Matriarch and would come for reputation's sake, regardless. I didn't think that she would be so unrelenting.”

“When did we have any ‘friendliness' with her? It was completely broken as soon as that family branched off. You don't need to compromise with her just because she's an elder,” he replied. “She only has Fu Ya in her sights right now, and she's waiting for the time when her precious son is going to lay her a golden egg.”

This time, it wasn't just Fu Ling, but all the servants who had originally come from the Duke of Ying's Estate that were concealing their laughter.

He doesn't feel like continuing to pick at the head of the family's faults. “What are you even being concerned with that trash for. What about you? How are you doing in the Prince's Estate?”

“Very good. The Prince is very good to me.” She moved sideways a little, taking his sleeve and swinging it back and forth like a little girl. “I was actually hoping that you could make it back to the capital this year,” she said quietly.

“Why is that?” He asked quickly. “What's going on? Are you still being bullied by them?”

He can't be blamed for getting too many ideas. Most of the older brothers of the words are like so, with supporting their family being the way they show their care.

“Nothing like that. It's good news.” A small bit of blush diffused on her face. “Big brother, you're going to be an uncle.”

“Oh.” Fu Shen had only heard the first half of what she was saying and nodded, his expression unchanged. He suddenly reacted to the meaning of the last half after an elongated pause, nearly standing up from his wheelchair out of shock and promptly raising his voice. “What did you say?!”

Fu Ling raises her hand and places it on her still flat stomach, grinning from ear to ear as she spoke. “It's already been more than three months.”

“H-How…” The Marquis of Jing Ning is having a rare moment of losing composure. “How old are you? No, what day is it?”

She smiled at his bewilderment. He slapped himself on the forehead, coming to the realization that he was asking a bunch of nonsense, and put on a smile. “That's really… good. Great.”

Fu Shen really isn't a good brother. Their mother died young, their stepmother was unkind, and he himself went off to the battlefield early on. It was hard for him to return home once a year, let alone look after his little sister. There was only blood connecting them, and up until now, there wasn't anything to say between the two of them.

At the same time, Fu Ling is soft on the outside and hard on the inside, smoothly maturing into a n.o.ble young lady under Lady Qin's hands. The only time she asked to see Fu Shen was when the Crown Prince pa.s.sed word along that he was interested in taking her as a Consort.

It was at that time that Fu Shen suddenly became conscious of the fact that he was an elder brother, and he helped to dry her tears. “If you don't like it, don't marry,” he told her. “Don't be scared. I'll give you anything you need.”

The psyche of a big brother haunts him. When he sees Fu Ling, he always thinks she's still that weepy and delicate little girl who's never willing to just say something outright, always wanting to reach out and grab his sleeve beforehand.

He hadn't expected that, in the blink of an eye, that little girl would turn into a married woman, and in another blink, become a mother.

Upon hearing of her pregnancy, Fu Shen didn't dare to keep her in his home for much longer, for he was someone who didn't believe in G.o.ds or monsters, yet on this day, he was superst.i.tious. He feared that he himself had filled his Estate too heavily with the b.l.o.o.d.y aura of a soldier that had just come off the battlefield, and that it wasn't good for a child.

He straight-up drove Fu Ling out. It was only at the gateway, after a maidservant helped her onto the carriage and they were part.i.tioned by a window, that he solemnly conferred, “Live well and take care of yourself. I'll stay in the capital for now and won't go anywhere else. Take it easy, look after your baby, and don't let anyone mistreat you.”

Her tears were once again falling down her face. “Look at you, scolding me… is there still anyone who would dare to mistreat me?” she barely managed to choke out between sobs.

“Mn,” came Fu Shen's gentle response. “Your big brother will give you anything you need. Go back, now.”

The gate of the Marquis's residence was closed once more. Uncle Fu began to push Fu Shen back into the study, but when they were halfway there, the latter suddenly spoke up. “Go to the storehouse and pack up a few nouris.h.i.+ng herbs and silk of whatever color, then get it delivered to the Prince of Qi's Estate.”

“Are these gifts for the young miss?” Uncle Fu replied. “Would you like to add any for the Prince? Not counting today, his Estate also sent many gifts over a few days back.”

“As I recall, there's a Gold-Star Longwei inkstone [4] somewhere in the study. I'll get it in a moment, you go and consider what else should be added.”

In the interim of Fu Shen intending to go to the study, the old servant was afraid that there would be an acc.u.mulation of dust all over the room due to a prolonged lack of use. He had ordered someone to dust before he dared to let Fu Shen enter it.

He never could have known that this cleaning would sweep an incident right towards them.

When Fu Shen went to find the inkstone, he discovered an unfamiliar, long wooden box on the desk. It wasn't something of his, but the way it was arranged was like someone had intentionally set it up for him to notice it.

The box is quite light, and from the sound made as he shook it, what's in it seems to be a very thin stick. He's on high alert, and only after several instances of turning it over and inspecting it to be certain that it wasn't b.o.o.by-trapped did he carefully open the lid.

The moment he got a good look at the item inside, his hands suddenly stopped right where they were, his gaze freezing on it.

It's a broken black arrow, the shaft of which has been snapped into two. Its sharpened tip had apparently once hit some kind of solid object.

The familiarity is alarming. There isn't anyone on this Earth who has a bigger impression of this object than he does.

It was the 9th of September, in Blue Sand Pa.s.s. When the rocks collapsed, in the brief moment of life and death, this is the exact arrow that came from behind and brushed past him.

[1] When a woman gets married off, it's not strange for her to visit her maternal family's home for personal reasons, but that's about it, and Fu Shen's home doesn't count as one of those. Even if he's her brother of the same mother. If that doesn't make much sense, patriarchal social conventions often don't.
[2] Same surname. Refers to the older brother of one's father.
[3] He calls her 小姑奶奶, lit. “little/young great aunt”.
[4] 金星龙尾歙砚 – Inkstones are for grinding up ink, obviously. Historically, ones made and exported from Longwei Mountain in Wuyuan are the most valuable. I'm guessing ‘gold star' refers to the pattern, or perhaps it's inlaid with gold.