Alas, Heaven Granted Only Half a Cup of Spring

A newly arrived young couple lives in the garden next door.

Country folk, unversed in refinement, planting melons before their door and vegetables beside the peony beds.

The woman is the niece of his father's concubine. Orphaned, she has come to seek shelter.

The man is the husband she brought into her family, a scholar from a small town, high in his own estimation and disdainful of princes and nobles.

Chen Cunzhong has long, idle days. Sometimes, through the carved window, he watches the couple go about their lives,

as if watching birds or ants.

He watches them struggle for money, feel embarrassed by their relatives' cold stares,

and hold each other as they weep over the man's repeated failures.

Later, the woman opens an eatery and gradually saves some silver.

Her husband passes the provincial examinations, full of success and swagger, riding a fine horse in luxurious clothes.

Later still, the woman lies prostrate at his feet, bowing her fragile neck,

begging him to intervene and grant her a divorce.

Chen Cunzhong grips her chin and forces her to look up, his thumb slowly brushing over her full, pale lower lip.

Poor thing. The ignorant country woman, betrayed by her husband, can only silently cry until her eyes swell shut.

Poor thing. Even now, she still doesn't know that it was by his design that her husband entered this dazzling, pleasure-filled world of fame and fortune.

◆

After the divorce, Du Lengcui moves out of the Marquis's garden.

A beautiful woman alone and without support is bound to attract unwelcome attention at her door.

Chen Cunzhong comes to see her. The imperial sedan chair stops before her lowly gate.

And so everyone knows that the white-robed prime minister, the emperor's trusted confidant and close aide, has a history with her.

Those eager admirers immediately disappear without a trace.

But her former husband still comes, kneeling before her and sobbing uncontrollably.

He speaks of the affection they shared as newlyweds, and how Chen Cunzhong led him astray that day, tempting him with fame and fortune until he betrayed his beloved wife.

Du Lengcui turns cold all over. Only now does she understand what those detached, scrutinizing gazes through the carved window had meant.

The door is knocked on again and again, slowly, melodiously, with endless patience.

The rain falls like arrows, from every direction, in a relentless deluge.

Chen Cunzhong has come.

She cannot escape.

She has to escape.

(Self-indulgent fic written for my own enjoyment)

Theme: Unable to pass by without leaving a trace of fragrance.