The overnight rain had soaked the moss growing in the cracks of the stone tiles at Liu Garden until it was lush and swollen.
Xu Youde sat in a grand armchair in the main hall, a soft cloth in his hand as he polished the golden abacus he valued more than his own life. Suddenly, the sound of stumbling footsteps echoed from outside the main gate.
The elderly gatekeeper burst through the threshold, scrambling so frantically that his hat hung sideways on his head.
“Master! Young Master! They’re here! The Wang family is here!”
Xu Youde’s hand jerked, nearly dropping the golden abacus onto his toes.
However, the expected sounds of shouting and violence did not follow.
At the gate stood a single, slender figure—delicate, even.
The newcomer wore a simple, washed-out long robe of plain silk. His hair was bound meticulously with a wooden pin, and his face carried that characteristic, faultless humility found in servants of great clans. He was not accompanied by thugs with clubs, but by four low-profile maidservants holding gift boxes made of red sandalwood.
It was Wang Lu, another steward of the Wang family.
He stood below the steps, facing a heavy door bolt that could fall at any moment and a drawn sword, yet he didn’t so much as blink. He straightened his robes and even made a point to step around a puddle before bowing deeply and respectfully.
“Wang Lu, servant of the Wang household, pays his respects to Master Xu and County Princess Anguo.”
The bow was so perfectly executed that Xu Youde’s hands froze around the door bolt. He couldn’t decide whether to swing it or put it down. It felt like punching a pile of cotton; all his momentum was harmlessly absorbed.
Xu Wuyou frowned. He pressed his thumb against the sword guard, and with a sharp click, he snapped the blade back into its scabbard and let out a cold laugh.
“How strange. Yesterday you were going to tear Liu Garden down and fill in our well, and today you’re putting on a show? What’s the plan, Steward Wang? Politeness before the punch, or is the fox just here to pay the hen a New Year’s visit?”
Wang Lu straightened up, his smile remaining unshakeable. He stepped aside and waved a hand. The maidservants stepped forward, opening the gift boxes in unison.
There were no hidden weapons, no venomous snakes.
On the left were two ancient ginseng roots already shaped like human figures, their roots intact and exuding a vintage medicinal fragrance. On the right was a tray of plump, lustrous pearls from the Eastern Sea, glowing warmly even under the overcast sky.
“The Young Master must be joking,” Wang Lu said.
His voice was gentle, neither too loud nor too soft, carrying perfectly to everyone present. “Yesterday, my worthless nephew Wang Gui and our young master Wang Teng offended the County Princess and Master Xu. When the Patriarch learned of this, he was furious and has already invoked family discipline.”
He paused, his gaze sweeping over Xu Wuyou’s disdainful expression.
“Our Lady has said that they got what they deserved and can blame no one else. These two ginseng roots are to help the County Princess calm her nerves, and these pearls are for Her Highness to play with. We hope Master Xu and the County Princess, for the sake of being fellow officials in Jiangning, will not hold a grudge against those few juniors.”
Xu Wuyou used the tip of his scabbard to flip open the lid of the ginseng box. He leaned in to sniff them and then sneered.
“These are nearly a hundred years old, aren’t they? Good stuff. What, are you afraid we won’t have enough to eat in Liu Garden and sent these to keep us clinging to life? There isn't any arsenic in here, is there?”
Wang Lu did not take offense. Instead, he pulled a gold-embossed red invitation from his robe and presented it with both hands above his head.
“The Young Master worries too much. Aside from the apology, my primary purpose today is to deliver an invitation to County Princess Anguo on behalf of our Lady.”
Xu Qinghuan had been sitting at the head of the hall drinking tea the entire time. Even when the gatekeeper was screaming his head off, she hadn't spilled a single drop. Now, she set her teacup down, the porcelain clinking against the table with a crisp sound.
Li Sheng, ever observant, walked over to take the invitation and presented it to Xu Qinghuan.
The invitation was heavy, made of gold-flecked Xuan paper, with a line of elegant, regular script written on it.
Xu Qinghuan flipped it open.
“Tomorrow is the ‘Day of Cleansing’ at Ciyun Nunnery in the south of the city. Ciyun Nunnery has enjoyed a hundred years of incense and is known for its efficacy. Every year on this day, the prominent ladies of Jiangning go there to offer incense and pray for the peace of their households.”
Wang Lu bowed slightly, his tone carrying a hint of something undeniable.
“Our Lady says that as the County Princess has just arrived and has encountered a series of unpleasant events, she must have attracted some misfortune. It is the perfect time to use the Day of Cleansing to worship the Bodhisattva at the nunnery, wash away the dust of the world, and ensure her future days in Jiangning are smooth.”
“Cleansing?”
Xu Youde slammed the door bolt onto the floor with a loud thud. He pointed at Wang Lu’s nose, the flesh on his face trembling.
“I think you want to cleanse her of her life! Ciyun Nunnery? That place is in the middle of nowhere. Everyone knows what you're up to! If she goes, will she ever come back? We’re not going! Daughter, we are not going!”
Xu Wuyou stepped directly in front of Xu Qinghuan, his body like a wall.
“Go back and tell that old hag that if she wants to see my sister, she can come to Liu Garden and kowtow herself. Ciyun Nunnery? If she wants to go to a godforsaken place like that, she can go there and die alone!”
Wang Lu ignored the agitated father and son. His gaze passed over Xu Wuyou’s shoulder, landing directly on Xu Qinghuan’s face.
“The County Princess is a noble titled by the Imperial Court. In broad daylight, under the eyes of the public, the Wang family wouldn't dare harm her even if we were given ten times the courage.”
He smiled, a smile that hid blades.
“Furthermore, the wives of the Jiangning Prefect and the Vice-Prefect will all be attending this gathering at Ciyun Nunnery. If the County Princess does not go, I fear outsiders will say she looks down on the elders and neighbors of Jiangning. To look down on the people is to look down on His Majesty. If she wishes to accomplish anything in Jiangning in the future, I fear... it will be difficult.”
This was an open trap.
To refuse was to show cowardice, to be antisocial, and to isolate herself from the official and social circles of Jiangning. For Xu Qinghuan, who intended to expand her business, this would be fatal.
Xu Qinghuan’s finger lightly brushed the gold-embossed character for “Wang” on the invitation, feeling the raised texture of the strokes.
This wasn't an invitation; it was a declaration of war.
“Li Sheng.”
The young woman’s voice was cool and devoid of anger.
“Take the items to the storehouse. Those two ginseng roots are of good quality. Have them sliced later and stewed with chicken for my father, my brother, and Jenny’s sisters. It’ll help nourish their brains.”
Wang Lu’s eyelid twitched.
“Tell Lady Wang,” Xu Qinghuan closed the invitation and tossed it onto the corner of the table, “this County Princess accepts. We will set out on time in half an hour.”
“Daughter!” Xu Youde stomped his feet in frustration.
“Sister!” Xu Wuyou turned around, his eyes filled with disbelief.
A glint of triumph flashed in Wang Lu’s eyes. He quickly bowed and took his leave, retreating as fast as possible as if fearing she might change her mind.
Only the family remained in the hall.
Xu Wuyou grabbed the invitation and was about to tear it up without even looking, but he was stopped by a single look from Xu Qinghuan.
“Have you lost your mind?” Xu Wuyou whispered harshly, the veins on his forehead throbbing. “That place is a spider’s den! That old hag of the Wang family lost her son—well, her son was disfigured—she wants to skin you alive right now! And you’re walking right into her trap?”
“Even if I have to throw away this official position, we can’t just go there to die!” Xu Youde paced in frantic circles. He grabbed the teapot from the table and tried to take a swig, only to pull away with a pained hiss as the scalding liquid burned his mouth.
Xu Qinghuan stood up and calmly smoothed the wrinkles on her sleeves.
“Not go?” She looked at her father and brother, her voice as level as if she were discussing the day’s weather. “I must go. It’s time to bring out certain things.”
She walked to the window and gazed out at the leaden, overcast sky.
“Since they’ve gone to the trouble of setting the stage and rehearsing their lines, how can the play go on if I, the lead actress, don’t make an appearance? Not only will I go, but I’ll perform so loudly and clearly that they’ll regret ever sending that invitation.”
Xu Wuyou gritted his teeth, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword so hard his knuckles turned white.
“Then I’m going too. I’d like to see who dares touch a single hair on your head.”
“You cannot go.” Xu Qinghuan turned around, her refusal sharp and final.
“Why?!”
“Ciyun Convent is a nunnery; the back courtyard will be filled with noblewomen. If a man like you charges in with a sword, Madam Wang will have you branded with a ‘lewd intent’ charge before you can even draw your blade. When that happens, you won’t just fail to save me—you’ll be dragged down with me.”
Seeing her brother on the verge of an outburst, Xu Qinghuan softened her tone slightly.
“I know what I’m doing.”
Without further explanation, she turned and walked toward the rear courtyard.
“Li Sheng, prepare the carriage.”
***
An incense stick’s time later.
A plain, green-canopied carriage bearing no family crest slowly rolled out from the side gate of Liu Garden.
Xu Wuyou followed on horseback, his face dark with suppressed rage, his Turquoise Sword jostling against the saddle.
They traveled until they reached the foot of the mountains south of the city. A solitary tea pavilion stood by the roadside; beyond it, the path narrowed into a winding, treacherous mountain trail that could only accommodate one carriage at a time.
“This is far enough,” Xu Qinghuan said, lifting the carriage curtain.
Xu Wuyou pulled on the reins, his horse pawing at the dirt restlessly. He stared up at the narrow path leading into the deep mountains, his heart heavy with unease.
“I’ll wait right here.” Xu Wuyou gritted his teeth, his gaze fierce. “I’m giving you exactly one hour. If I don’t see you coming back down by then, I’ll burn that entire mountain to the ground.”
Xu Qinghuan offered a small smile and let the curtain fall.
“Proceed.”
The carriage wheels creaked into motion, crushing fallen leaves as the vehicle climbed toward Ciyun Convent, which lay hidden deep within the swirling mountain mists.
Inside the carriage, the light was dim.
Xu Qinghuan held the gold-flecked invitation in her hand. Her thumb pressed down with such force that the thick Xuan paper creaked, leaving a deep, jagged crease across the surface.
Peering through a gap in the curtain, she caught a glimpse of the convent’s upturned eaves in the distance. Her gaze was several degrees colder than the late autumn mountain wind.
She smiled, a look that carried a dark, lingering meaning.
