Chapter 21: Tears Gushed Forth

"My second aunt has misunderstood me," Yunjiao smiled. "Your filial piety is known to move the heavens; who in Laizhou City is unaware of it? It is simply a pity that my grandmother lacks the fortune to enjoy it."

Though these were words of flattery, Mistress Ding felt a sourness in her heart as she turned them over. The words sounded less like praise and more like mockery. Yet, observing the girl’s cheerful, respectful expression—devoid of even a hint of insolence—she could find no fault. She found herself momentarily speechless, a surge of indignation and resentment clogging her throat.

Glancing up, she saw Nanny Li, Jianjia, and Mujin standing by, appearing to watch her as if she were a joke. "Why are you still standing there like wooden stakes?" she snapped, offended. "Useless wretches, are you waiting for me to clean the floor myself?"

The three of them dared not speak and hurried to clear the room. Mistress Ding sat there, her temper still simmering. The more she thought, the angrier she became; she was determined to discipline this arrogant little girl. She recalled how, when Qian Fang was married off, the old woman had bestowed so many treasures upon her—it was said even a tea shop in the Imperial Capital had been given away, not to mention whatever other riches that spendthrift had received!

Fortunately, that spendthrift had now met her own retribution, having been reduced from a legitimate wife to a mere concubine. Whenever Mistress Ding thought of this, she felt a sense of satisfaction. It was just a pity that the woman rarely left her home, making it difficult to settle scores, though settling them with her daughter would serve the same purpose.

Once Nanny Li and the two maids had finished their tasks, they stood to the side, waiting. Mistress Ding waved her hand at them. "There is nothing for you to do here. Go and stand outside."

Nanny Li glanced at Yunjiao, hesitant. "But if the Old Madam has any needs..."

"What? Is my word not good enough?" Seeing Nanny Li looking toward Yunjiao, Mistress Ding grew indignant, glaring and slapping the table. "You old wretch, I think you’ve grown senile; you don't even know who is in charge here! Isn't there someone here specifically to serve the Old Madam? Do you really need to trouble yourself?"

Yunjiao knew she was being deliberately provoked and, wishing not to stoop to her level, gestured for Nanny Li and the others to leave. Though the three were uneasy, they had no choice but to turn and withdraw.

"If you are going to take care of someone, you should look the part. Having servants do all the work while you just watch—is that what you call filial piety? A good reputation isn't earned so easily. If you want to care for someone, you should do every chore with your own hands. That is what true filial piety is."

Watching Yunjiao standing by the bedside, head bowed and silent, Mistress Ding felt her anger ease significantly.

"As you say, Second Aunt," Yunjiao replied with a smile, not bothering to argue. She sat down on the edge of the bed. She knew that with someone like her second aunt, the more one argued, the more energized she became. The best tactic was to use a light touch to deflect a heavy force, leaving her with no target for her malice.

Sure enough, seeing Yunjiao’s calm demeanor, Mistress Ding’s expression darkened further. It felt as if her punches were landing on cotton, soft and without purchase. Furious and unable to restrain herself, she reached out to slap the table again.

Just then, Old Madam Qian, lying on the bed, spoke in a muddled voice: "Need... need to... relieve myself..."

"Grandmother, I will help you down," Yunjiao said, her heart leaping with joy. Her grandmother was asking to use the commode—was this a sign of recovery?

Dragging the commode from behind the bed, Yunjiao tried to move her grandmother toward the edge, but once they reached the side, she found she could not support her weight. Ever since her illness, Old Madam Qian had grown frail, but she had always been tall; even in her thin state, Yunjiao, only ten years old and lacking in strength, could not hold her up—especially with the Old Madam’s broken leg.

Yunjiao looked at the commode a short distance away, suddenly panicked and unsure of what to do.

Sitting in her chair, Mistress Ding watched the girl’s distressed, anxious expression and couldn't help but laugh. *Little spendthrift, weren't you so capable just a moment ago? Why are you out of ideas now?* She felt immense satisfaction.

Yunjiao knew well that Mistress Ding was no easy person to deal with, but she was now backed into a corner. She had no choice but to speak up: "Second Aunt, I am too small and fear I might drop Grandmother. Could you please help me support her? Or perhaps you could call Nanny Li and the others back in?"

"The neighbors are all saying that among our nieces, you, Yunjiao, are the most filial. I wouldn't dare compete with you in such an act of devotion," Mistress Ding retorted, making no effort to hide her mockery or her smile. She was waiting to see a farce; there was no reason for her to help.

"Second Aunt, how can you be like this!" Yunjiao felt stifled. How could there be someone in this world who treated their elders this way, yet felt no shame—even taking pride in it, smiling as if nothing were wrong? Even a total stranger would have offered a helping hand, yet Mistress Ding was so heartless, standing by with no shred of compassion.

Yunjiao could not afford to overthink it; since she could not rely on them, she had to find her own way. After a moment of thought, she gritted her teeth and helped the Old Madam lean back against the pillows. She moved the commode directly onto the bed, then carefully lifted the Old Madam, terrified of jostling her injured leg, which could not withstand another break.

"My, the Ninth Miss is the daughter of a scholarly household, yet she places something as filthy as a commode on the bed?" Nanny Ding, standing behind Mistress Ding, sneered.

Nanny Ding was a distant cousin of Mistress Ding. As both a servant and a relative, they were of the same ilk and naturally sang from the same hymn sheet. Yunjiao treated her words as a passing breeze, gritting her teeth as she slowly supported the Old Madam. She had no energy to waste on a war of words.

"I have never seen such a thing. I haven't studied, nor have I been to a scholar's house, but I suppose that must be the custom in such places?" Mistress Ding laughed aloud. Nanny Ding joined in.

Old Madam Qian, perhaps feeling unstable, instinctively reached out to grab the bed frame. With Yunjiao’s help, she managed to stand up, trembling. But they were still some distance from the commode, and she would certainly not be able to sit down in time.

Seeing this, Yunjiao hurriedly stretched out her left foot to hook the commode closer. But it was too late. Old Madam Qian had likely been holding it in for some time, and in her confused state, she relieved herself right where she stood.

In a panic, Yunjiao shifted her weight too forcefully, and the commode tipped over onto the bed.

Mistress Ding burst into raucous laughter, and Nanny Ding doubled over, clutching her sides.

In that instant, tears flooded from Yunjiao’s eyes. She did not like to cry, for since childhood, her grandmother had taught her that tears were the most useless thing of all—they only made one look weak and invited further bullying and mockery. But she could not stop them. She did not weep for herself, but for her grandmother.