Thunder From a Clear Sky

Suzhen was sitting at the window, some sewing lying forgotten in her lap. A small sigh escaped her lips without her realizing it, and one hand crept unconsciously to her stomach.

It was a peaceful few weeks she had spent here under Mao Jin's roof. The tranquil life had seemed a dream at first after the nightmare she had emerged from, and sometimes she still felt as if she was in a daydream. She closed her eyes, feeling the warmth from the sunlight soak into her skin, just like when she had curled up on the floor of their hut and fallen asleep; and imagined Xuxian's eyes, tender and full of laughter.

Wanwan stole a glance at her as she shook out the quilt. Her new mistress was very quiet and hardly any trouble. Mother had warned Wanwan repeatedly to stay on her toes as rich folks needed help with pretty much everything. But Madame liked to do things for herself, and seemed uncomfortable when Wanwan stepped forward to help her.

Since she had come Madame's belly had grown rapidly. It was a smooth curve you could easily see now in her figure from the side, and Wanwan had to make her new robes. Mao Gongzi had given her money to buy some fine cotton cloth, but to Wanwan's acute disappointment Madame had requested that they be white. White! When there was an abundance of other beautiful colours to be had thanks to Mao Gongzi's silver! Wanwan had longingly fingered the other cloths and finally picked up the bolt of white cotton with a sigh. "It's going to look like a funeral outfit," she muttered rebelliously to herself. "Madame shouldn't wear such an inauspicious colour if she's pregnant. And she's so pretty, why does she want to look so drab? Is she afraid Mao Gongzi will fall in love with her if she looks too beautiful?"

She was a good needlewoman though, and the new garments had turned out shapely and elegant. Wanwan eyed the sweeping folds falling smoothly to the ground from Madame's sloping shoulders with satisfaction. It couldn't look better if you had hired a professional tailor to make it, she thought to herself proudly. Perhaps one day she could be a seamstress and earn her own living, if she didn't become a maid for a wealthy family.

As the youngest in her family, Wanwan had no experience with what pregnancy was like and she was not surprised by how fast Suzhen's belly had swelled. The elderly physician that came to check on her now and then always hemmed and hawed, and looked confused. He didn't know what to make of it, why the child was growing so rapidly. But since there was nothing wrong and the child seemed healthy and strong, he decided not to say anything.

Straightening from laying the quilt out, Wanwan noticed with some alarm that Madame's expression, first pensive, was darkening into something she couldn't quite make out, and it made her a little uneasy. "What are you making, Madame?" she asked, thinking a distraction was needed.

Suzhen roused herself and turned with a smile. She held out the embroidery on her lap. "I thought I would make a pair of shoes for the child. It's harder than I expected, and I am not very good at embroidery. Perhaps you could teach me, Wanwan. You are good at this."

She held out the little pair of shoes ruefully for inspection. Pleased at being asked for advice, Wanwan reached out to take them, when the rumble of carriage wheels stopping at their gate surprised both of them. It was a quiet road, and at the most one might hear horse hooves or conversation when people passed by, but a carriage was uncommon. Who could it be?

"I'll see who it is," Wanwan said hastily, running out.

Mao Jin rose from his study table with what could only be described as an annoyed expression. "What? A carriage at my gate, and you say it's someone claiming to be a friend of mine? This is thunder on a clear sky indeed! At this rate, I might as well set up a hotel."

He added under his breath irritably, "A real friend of mine would know better than to arrive unannounced like this. How inconvenient." For a moment, he was worried that Madame Bai's presence would mean any complications. Mao Jin had no desire for strange rumours to spread about.

Brushing those thoughts aside, he resolutely turned to Wanwan, waiting expectantly for his instructions. "Are they still waiting at the gate? You didn't let them in right? Good. Where's Madame?"

"Madame is in her chamber, sir."

He considered, then spoke decisively.

"Tell Madame we have guests, and then go boil water in case we need to serve tea. I will go see who it is."

Reluctantly he set his scroll down and stood up, shaking his sleeves out with the air of a man going into battle.

Suzhen peered curiously from the window, trying to catch a glimpse of the mysterious visitor at the gate through the pines and the bamboo fence that shrouded the compound. She leaned against the windowsill as she watched, trying to piece together the fragments that the fence revealed.

The carriage was a fine one, of polished wood with a yellow silk curtain at the window that rippled in the breeze, catching the sun in buttery glints that revealed the fineness of the material. Suzhen leaned forward eagerly as the top of a servant's head came towards the carriage window, evidently reporting something to the master inside, and a hand emerged from the window, thrusting the curtain aside impatiently. A face appeared briefly at the window, looking rather cross, though it was a young and handsome one. It spoke sharply to the servant and withdrew almost immediately with a wave of the hand.

Stifling a gasp, she fell back, and with a quick movement of her wrist drew the curtains across the window. Perplexed, she leaned back against the wall out of sight, and felt her heart beating faster.

What was Song Weiming doing here?