Offspring

In the fifth watch of the night, the sky outside was still shrouded in darkness.

News had already been sent from the front courtyard, informing Yingzhi that all arrangements for the funeral procession at the mansion’s gate were in order and they would soon be departing.

It was still early; the faint moon hung low beneath the eaves, filtered by blossoming trees. As Yingzhi walked along, everything appeared hazy and indistinct.

Usually, when she rose, the Liang residence bustled with the ceaseless comings and goings of servant girls. But on this morning, as she woke earlier than usual, she witnessed a different sort of quiet desolation.

A chill lingered in the air, so she donned a plain white gauze skirt and a matching narrow-collared jacket, then, accompanied by Chunlan, made her way through the covered walkway lined with verdant foliage and blossoming flowers.

Beneath the shadow wall, she caught a glimpse of two figures huddled under a tree.

The sky was still very dark; Yingzhi could not discern who they were, and the two were so absorbed in conversation that they failed to notice her and her maid approaching.

“When you leave, I fear your mother will turn her troubles onto me again,” the woman’s voice drifted over, cold and clear as the night wind.

Recognizing the voice, Yingzhi realized who they were.

It was the Second Madam of the secondary branch, young Lady Xiao. The other person, naturally, was Liang Zhi.

Yingzhi’s brows involuntarily knitted at these words.

The second master’s wife was his cousin by blood, surnamed Xiao, given name Qiongyu. “His mother” referred, of course, to Lady Xiao, the matriarch.

Lady Xiao and young Lady Xiao were aunt and niece, and as Yingzhi had always heard, they had been quite close. Even in her previous life, until her dying day, Yingzhi had never heard of any discord between this mother- and daughter-in-law.

“My mother’s words—if they don’t sound pleasant, just let them in one ear and out the other,” Liang Zhi’s voice was unmistakable: deep and masculine, yet his tone was utterly nonchalant.

He spoke as though this was merely a common instance of a wife’s nagging, well-practiced at smoothing things over between his mother and his wife.

But Xiao Qiongyu was unwilling to let him so easily dismiss her. Summoning rare courage, she pressed her husband: “Your mother is urging us to have a child soon, and now says that if it’s a boy, he should be given to your third brother’s wife to raise. The third brother is the legitimate heir, and has the title, but I do not covet such empty honors. A child should stay close to his own mother… I do not know what you truly think in your heart. Do you agree with her?”

Xiao Qiongyu had always been gentle and demure; these words seemed to have cost her all her strength to utter, all over a child who had yet to exist.

Without even thinking, Liang Zhi scolded her in return: “You believe every rumor you hear! We’re from a separate branch; even if there’s an adoption, it should be the eldest brother’s child, not ours.”

Hearing Xiao Qiongyu’s earlier words, Yingzhi’s expression froze.

So, she had unwittingly become the villain, the one they feared would steal away a child not yet even born?

She could not help but feel a pang of annoyance. She wanted to step out and say, “You need not worry about that! In your previous life, you two never had smooth luck with children. Not only did you never have a child to give me, you hardly managed one for yourselves!”

Indeed, in their past life, Liang Zhi and Xiao Qiongyu struggled for years. It was said she had conceived several times, yet none of the pregnancies were carried to term.

Some ended in miscarriage at two or three months, others at four; not a single child survived.

They tried every remedy imaginable, but still, no child came, while Xiao Qiongyu’s health was ruined by repeated miscarriages, leaving her unable to conceive again.

In the end, Xiao Qiongyu, ever the virtuous wife, did not wait for others in the household to urge her, but herself arranged for Liang Zhi to take two beautiful concubines.

Because of her cold temperament and poor health, Xiao Qiongyu had never been close to Yingzhi in their previous life. Besides, their mothers-in-law were always at odds, so they rarely spoke, and even when they met, it was only a few polite exchanges.

Later, the Second Master was often away from home for official duties—whether in the capital or far-off Anxi, rarely returning. Naturally, Xiao Qiongyu followed him. What became of the couple thereafter, Yingzhi did not know.

Hearing their conversation continuing unabated, Yingzhi deliberately cleared her throat and strode forward.

The pair, startled, broke off at once and quickly separated.

Liang Zhi, rather embarrassed, coughed and tried to look busy.

Xiao Qiongyu, who had just spoken ill of Yingzhi behind her back, now dared not meet her eyes.

Yingzhi pretended she had heard nothing, and offered a polite bow, “Second Brother, Second Sister-in-law, good morning.”

She was skilled at giving people a way out of awkwardness. Noticing the pastries in Xiao Qiongyu’s hands, she remarked, “Second Sister-in-law, you’re up early—did you come here especially to give pastries to Second Brother? Since I’ve seen them, do I get a share?”

Xiao Qiongyu, unable to help herself, sneaked a look at Yingzhi’s face. Seeing her composed and courteous, even with a faint smile on her lips, giving nothing away, she finally relaxed.

Indeed, she had brought the pastries for Liang Zhi, but now, after Yingzhi’s question, there was no way for Liang Zhi to receive them.

So she pushed the box into Yingzhi’s hands.

Her delicate face managed a strained smile. “If you wish for some, of course you shall have a share. The Second Master has never liked my pastries anyway. If you don’t mind, take them with you in the carriage, to snack on when you’re bored.”

Liang Zhi had nothing more to say, and at some point had already slipped away.

Yingzhi accepted without ceremony, opening the box. She lowered her eyes to see rows of pastries, each a different shape—clearly made with care.

So she accepted them with a smile.

As if making amends for the past, her appetite these past two days had been better than ever. She no longer restrained her desires.

Right in front of Xiao Qiongyu, she picked up a pastry and took a small bite.

She wondered how Xiao Qiongyu had made it.

The crust was coated with thinly sliced southern almonds, perhaps toasted, both crisp and fragrant. The interior was tender and melted in the mouth.

It was ti hu.

From the very first bite, Yingzhi closed her eyes in enjoyment and sincerely praised, “Thank you, Second Sister-in-law. Your skill is truly remarkable.”

With that, she popped the rest of the piece into her mouth and dusted her hands.

“I’ll share a few pieces with the other brothers as well,” she said with a smile.

Xiao Qiongyu was caught off guard by this version of Yingzhi—a single pastry revealed a guileless, youthful side, so different from the cold and lifeless woman she had seen two days prior.

For a moment, she was both surprised and delighted by the praise.

After all, she had been making pastries for Liang Zhi for so many years, yet he had always been indifferent, never once uttering a word of compliment.

Could it be that her pastries were truly so delicious?

“These pastries are quite complex, requiring dozens of steps. If you like them, I’ll have the recipe sent to your courtyard,” Xiao Qiongyu offered, hoping to atone for her earlier rash words—even going so far as to offer up a family recipe as a peace offering.

Yingzhi understood her intention perfectly. How could she blame Xiao Qiongyu for her previous words?

After all, it was her own child—her own flesh and blood. Was it not natural that she’d wish to keep him close? It was only human.

And yet...

Yingzhi suddenly realized a significant issue she had not considered these past few days.

She had previously thought that if she could not escape the Liang family, she should arrange to have a child by her side as soon as possible—ideally, the son of the eldest or second master.

After all, such a child would be both related by blood and raised from infancy by her, the bond would be deep.

If registered under her name, he would be the legitimate eldest son, recorded in the Liang family genealogy, entitled to a large share of the family estate.

Even if she were to leave the household smoothly in the future, with the support and affection of those two, the position of legitimate eldest son would be unshakeable.

Even if Liang Ji were to return with numerous merits and a lofty title, the title and inheritance should belong to the child. This would be the perfect way to settle old scores from her past life.

But now, Yingzhi abruptly realized she had overlooked a crucial point!

Even after all her calculations, she had forgotten one thing—Xiao Qiongyu had never borne a child herself, so how could she give one to Yingzhi?

Liang Zhi’s child with another woman was not born until many years later, even after Liang Ji’s child, and that was in a distant province! Would he really be willing to give a child to her?

As for Liang Yun, for reasons unknown in the previous life, he never married. Up until her death, Yingzhi had never heard of him having any children at all.

So the question arose: if she desired a child, who could give her one? Which branch of the family could spare a child for her?

...Upon reflection, it seemed that every branch of the Liang family struggled with having children.

In other families, children came by the handfuls, but in the Liang family, ever since the great-grandfather, offspring had been scarce. Lady Wei had only borne Liang Ji.

Lady Xiao had three children, but the eldest daughter was chronically ill, said to survive only by taking ginseng daily. The youngest son, even more so—Lady Xiao scarcely dared hold him for fear he would not survive infancy.

As for the three young masters of her own generation, having a son was as difficult as fighting for life itself.

In her previous life, the eldest master had never had children. The second master, though he took concubines, only had one child many years later...

Liang Ji—his situation was only slightly better.

Having lived a second life, Yingzhi suddenly realized a question she had never considered before:

Could it be that the men of the Liang family all suffered from some hereditary difficulty in fathering children...