FMT 7

Chapter 07  Childbirth

That afternoon, screams came one after another from the inner room. In the outer room, Old Madam Chen paced back and forth, rubbing her hands in agitation.

By the stove, Aunt Wu from next door was boiling water and kneading dough, preparing food to restore strength to the laboring ge’er inside.

With a loud noise, the inner door opened. The midwife came out with her hands on her hips. Facing Old Madam Chen, who rushed over, she said, “No good. I can’t handle it. You need to fetch the village doctor.”

Old Madam Chen’s eyebrows shot up. “When I gave birth to Hanwen, I delivered him at home by myself. I even cut the cord on my own. How come it’s so difficult for him!”

“I’ve no money for a doctor. I already paid you. It’s your job to make sure he delivers!” Old Madam Chen said.

But the midwife was not easy to bully. She sneered. “The mother has no strength left. If you don’t call the doctor, it could end in two corpses. Do as you like.”

Old Madam Chen’s eyelids twitched. She pressed her thin lips together, her face vicious. “Cut open his belly. I don’t believe a child can’t be brought out!”

The midwife said, “If you dare, then do it yourself. I’m leaving. When he becomes a ghost, he’ll come to you for revenge!”

With that, she really turned to go.

Old Madam Chen gritted her teeth, snatched up the kitchen knife from the stove, her face fierce. She startled Aunt Wu, who had been tending the fire.

She lifted her foot, ready to storm into the inner room. Aunt Wu had always thought her words before were just threats. She never imagined she would truly be so ruthless. She stood up at once to stop her.

Just then, the midwife pulled open the outer door. She looked up and froze.

The moment the door opened, she had been focused on the madwoman behind her, but out of the corner of her eye she still saw that outside was empty.

Yet when she pushed the door wide, a person appeared out of nowhere on the threshold.

Though the weather had begun to warm, the spring wind still blew strong. It lifted the hem of the man’s gray, worn robe, making it flutter as if he might float away with the breeze.

The midwife, startled, took two steps back. When she saw clearly, she patted her chest in relief. “It’s the old doctor from Kaoshan Village? You came just in time. Go look inside quickly, that mother won’t last much longer!”

As she spoke, she tugged at the old doctor’s sleeve and let him into the room.

At the inner doorway, Old Madam Chen, who had been charging in with the knife, had somehow frozen in place.

Aunt Wu looked at her in puzzlement. Her face was vacant, her mouth twitching, drool slipping from the corner of her lips. She looked just like the senile old man in the village.

The old doctor stepped around Old Madam Chen and pushed open the inner door. Passing her, he suddenly turned his head and gave her a look.

Her eyes were still vacant, as if she had not seen him at all.

Only Aunt Wu, behind her, saw that glance clearly. It made her shiver, her whole body chilled, she nearly collapsed to the ground.

The inner door opened, then shut softly, as if to avoid disturbing the one inside.

A breeze was drawn out with the door. Outside, both Aunt Wu and the midwife felt a shiver, as though they had just awakened from a dream.

…

Inside, the white-haired old doctor stood at the bedside, looking down at the silent, exhausted figure on the bed, whose chest still rose and fell faintly.

After a moment, he set his medicine box on the table. Then he lifted the quilt with one hand. Ignoring the bloody mess beneath, he curled his lip in distaste and without hesitation yanked the memorial tablet from the thin hand clutching it. He tossed it to the floor with a dull thud.

On the bed, the frail ge’er’s eyeballs shifted under his lids, as if he wanted to open his eyes, but he had no strength.

Then a soft, cool hand covered his eyes. A pill was pushed between his bloodied lips.

Within a few breaths, the one with covered eyes drew in a gasp. His chest and neck arched up from the bed.

But at once the old doctor pressed him back down by the chest.

The old doctor looked frail and at the end of his years, but his strength was strangely great.

The person on the bed could not get up. He only lay there breathing rapidly, then shook his head and slowly regained his senses.

The old doctor withdrew his hand and looked down at him.

When Liandan woke, he felt something covering his eyes. He shook his head instinctively, and the hand left.

Liandan opened his eyes and saw a thin figure standing at his bedside. He blinked, and his gaze fixed on the wrist that showed under the man’s sleeve.

The old doctor instinctively pulled his sleeve down, blocking his sight.

At the same time, when Liandan’s mind cleared fully, the pain in his belly and the tearing pain below surged back again.

Though he had suffered stabbing pain one night every month, he had never grown used to it.

The midwife had told him while he was conscious that a ge’er’s birth passage was narrower than a woman’s, and his was narrower still.

Before he fainted last time, the midwife had already held his hand and asked if he wanted to see anyone, or if he had last words to leave behind.

Liandan realized he might really die.

Tang Hua had said good and evil had their rewards, but in his short life he had done no evil. Why had retribution fallen on him?

Liandan did not want to die. He raised a trembling hand and clutched the old doctor’s robe, his throat so hoarse he could barely make a sound, whispering almost on breath alone, “Please, save me…”

The old doctor’s eyes showed a trace of worry. He took the hand clutching his sleeve and laid it back on the bed.

Liandan pressed all his pain into his throat, holding it in.

The old doctor turned, opened his medicine box, and took out a white candle. He lit it.

The small flame drew Liandan’s gaze. He looked at it instinctively.

Strangely, the candle gave off no smoke when it burned.

The old doctor bent down and lifted Liandan’s clothes, exposing his rounded belly.

After looking for a while, he straightened and took a small silver knife from the box. He passed it once over the flame of the candle.

Then, under Liandan’s terrified eyes, the silver blade flashed as it came down on his belly.

Liandan let out a scream. The nightmare of the past months had finally become real. His legs kicked, his eyes rolled back, and he fainted.

…

The room was quiet, with only a faint smell of blood.

Liandan slowly woke and opened his eyes.

He rolled his eyes and saw the familiar roof overhead.

His first reaction was to touch his belly and rise to look.

But before his hand could reach it, someone seized his wrist and said, “Don’t touch, and don’t get up. The wound was just sewn.”

Liandan turned in surprise toward the old doctor sitting at his bedside. Their gazes met, very close, one lying, one sitting.

Liandan stared blankly at him, he felt that something was wrong again.

The old doctor withdrew his gaze first, turning instead to the inner side of the bed. His eyes showed an emotion Liandan could not understand.

Liandan looked blankly for a moment, then turned his head to the side. At that sight, his mouth fell open, his eyes widened round.

By his pillow lay a swaddled infant, sleeping soundly with eyes closed.

“He…?” Liandan stammered, unable to believe it.

Only then did the old doctor release his wrist. He stood by the bed and said, “I cut open your belly to take him out. When he grows up, he must be filial to you.”

Liandan opened his mouth to speak, but before he could, the old doctor stepped back two paces toward the side of the bed and said quietly, “Someone is coming.”

No sound came from outside at first.

Liandan looked toward the door in confusion. After a while, faint footsteps came from outside, and after a few more moments, they stopped before the door. A knocking sounded, “tok tok.”

The old doctor went to open it. Liandan blinked, staring at his thin back and the way his figure seemed almost ethereal.

The door opened. Aunt Wu’s face appeared. She held a large rough porcelain bowl in her hands, craned her neck inside, and said, “Liandan, you’re awake. I made noodles for you. Eat them while they’re hot to strengthen yourself.”

Liandan answered softly. He tried to sit up, but the pain in his belly made it impossible.

The old doctor came back, first bowing slightly as if to apologize, even with a hint of respect, as though afraid to offend him. Only then did he slide one hand under his armpit and help him sit against the headboard.

Aunt Wu set the bowl on the table and spooned the noodles into Liandan’s mouth one scoop at a time.

As Liandan ate, he kept glancing past her to the old doctor, watching as he put the candle and other items from the table back into the medicine box.

“Does your belly still hurt? The old doctor gave you a prescription. I had my Tingzi fetch the medicine. Tonight your mother-in-law will boil it for you to drink,” Aunt Wu said.

Liandan’s focus returned to the person before him. His voice was hoarse. “Thank you, Auntie, and Sister Tingzi.”

Aunt Wu shook her head. Though she got along with Old Madam Chen, she bore no ill intent. She also disliked how the old woman treated her daughter-in-law.

Especially this time, when Liandan had nearly died, Aunt Wu felt guilty and wanted to make it up to him.

She smiled and looked at the child beside Liandan. “This baby will surely be easy. He drinks goat’s milk and sleeps quietly, not making a fuss. Liandan, you’ll live in comfort from now on!”

Liandan lowered his head and stayed silent.

He had never had anything to do with the words “live in comfort.”

But maybe, when the child grew up, if he truly showed filial piety, then perhaps his good fortune would finally come.

Thinking this, Liandan’s eyes searched again for the old doctor who had spoken earlier.

But the space by the table was already empty. The old doctor had gone at some unknown time.

…

Leaving the Chen house, the old doctor stopped at the gate, turned back for a long look, then walked away.

He did not return to his home in the village. Instead, he walked quickly toward the outskirts.

When villagers passed and greeted him, he only nodded with a smile. Asked where he was hurrying to, he stopped to answer that he was going to see a patient in a neighboring village.

There was only one doctor across several villages, so no one thought it strange. They did not ask further.

The old doctor walked out of the village, but he did not take the path toward the next village. Instead, he climbed a mountain nearby.

Once inside the woods, where no one was around, he stopped, looked warily around, then quickly removed his gray robe, revealing a flowing light-yellow woman’s dress beneath.

He raised a hand and wiped it across his face and head. In an instant, the white-haired old man’s face became that of a young, beautiful girl.

But the girl’s expression was cold, her eyes sharp, difficult to approach.

She folded the robe neatly and hid it with the medicine box under a tree. Then she went deeper into the mountain. At last, she stopped before a cave.

Facing the dark within, she bent her knees in a respectful bow and said, “This subordinate has completed the task.”

After a while, muffled coughing came from inside. The girl frowned, then quickly returned to a blank face.

She lowered her head, clasped her fists, and said, “Congratulations, congratulations to the Sect Leader.”

There was silence again before a hoarse, strange voice from within finally said, “I know.”

The girl lifted her head toward the cave, hesitated, then said, “Last night, he may have suffered greatly.”

There was no response. She waited patiently. After some time, instead of addressing it, the person in the cave asked, “How did last night’s matter go?”

The girl knew he was not asking about the village at the foot of the mountain but about something else. Fear flickered in her eyes. “The person already left. We arrived too late.”

The cave was silent. The girl quickly added, “Liu Shuqi followed the trail, but I was worried about this matter here, so I hurried back overnight.”

“He is no match for that one. Tell him to return. In a few days, I will go myself,” the cave voice said.

The girl suddenly raised her head, deep worry in her face. “But your injury—”

“Shut up.”

“Yes.”

“It’s a boy,” she said softly after a while.

The cave gave no answer.

“He is very perceptive. He must already suspect me,” she continued.

Silence again, broken only by two heavy coughs, then slowly the voice said, “When I leave seclusion, we’ll speak of it again.”