The blue cloth carriage stopped beneath the crooked pine tree outside the mountain gate.
The carriage curtain was lifted.
Xu Qinghuan stepped onto the footstool offered by Li Sheng and alighted. As soon as the soles of her embroidered shoes touched the ground, they were coated with a layer of splashed muddy water. She paid no mind, only turning her head to say to the man on the carriage shaft, "Keep watch."
Li Sheng nodded. "As you command."
The mountain gate was half-open.
Ciyun Nunnery, usually bustling with incense and worshippers, was eerily quiet today. Not a single welcoming monk was in sight; there was only the rainwater gathering into streams along the eaves, washing over the bluestone steps.
Xu Qinghuan opened an oiled paper umbrella and ascended the steps alone.
The doors of the Mahavira Hall stood wide open.
No lamps were lit inside, leaving the hall in dimness. Several massive golden Buddha statues sat entrenched upon the high platform, their eyes lowered, looking down at the mortal world with a mixture of compassion and cold indifference.
Right in the center of the hall, with her back to the door, knelt a woman wearing a dark purplish-red beizi.
Thump, thump, thump.
The sound of the wooden fish struck beat by beat, knocking right against one's heart. It sped up and slowed down, carrying a certain palpitating rhythm. The sound echoed through the cavernous hall, bouncing off the pillars and beams before reflecting back, mixing with the thunder outside, pressing down so heavily it made it hard to breathe.
Xu Qinghuan closed her umbrella and stood it by the door to drip dry.
She did not speak, nor did she step forward, simply standing at the doorway with her hands behind her back. Her crimson dress was strikingly eye-catching within the gloomy hall.
Thump.
The wooden fish stopped.
The woman did not turn her head. Her voice was slightly hoarse, sounding exceptionally chilling in the empty hall: "Since you have seen the true Buddha, why do you not kneel?"
This was a show of dominance.
First using the environment to oppress the person, then using etiquette and religion to oppress the mind. Once you entered these temple doors, even a dragon must coil up, and a tiger must lie down. Before the heavens full of gods and Buddhas, you are but a mortal, and you must kneel.
Xu Qinghuan looked up, casting a glance at the clay-sculpted Buddha.
"When one has a clear conscience, what need is there to worship the Buddha?"
The young woman's voice was crisp, piercing through the muffled sound of the rain. "If one has ghosts in their heart, even if they kneel until their knees break and shatter these bluestone floorboards with their kowtows, it would all be in vain."
A deathly silence filled the hall.
After a long while.
The woman slowly stood up and turned around.
Madam Wang's face was somewhat haggard, with dark circles under her eyes. Her originally elegant makeup could not conceal the hostility seeping from her very bones. She twirled a string of prayer beads in her hand, her fingernails dyed with bright red balsam, looking somewhat macabre in the dim light.
"The County Princess certainly has a sharper tongue than the storytellers of Jiangning."
Madam Wang's face held no expression; she was neither angry nor smiling. "Since you are here, then please come in. Several madams are waiting in the back hall. You must at least have a sip of this welcome tea."
She stepped sideways, yielding a path leading to the back hall.
It was a long corridor, deep and narrow, its end pitch black like a gaping maw.
Xu Qinghuan did not hesitate, stepping forward to follow.
The meditation room in the back hall.
As soon as the door was pushed open, a rich scent of sandalwood mixed with the aroma of cosmetics wafted over.
The room was full of people.
The main seat in the center was empty. Seated to the left was a middle-aged woman wearing the attire of a titled lady; she was the wife of the Jiangning Prefect. Next to her were the wives of the Vice Prefect and the Assistant Prefect.
Almost all the notable female family members of the Jiangning officialdom were gathered here.
This was a web.
A web woven from power and social connections. Holding their teacups, their gazes—whether disdainful, scrutinizing, or amused—landed uniformly on Xu Qinghuan, who had just entered. It was as if they were looking at a little lamb that had mistakenly wandered into a pack of wolves.
There were no greetings, no pleasantries.
In such a setting, silence itself was a form of pressure.
Madam Wang walked straight to the main seat, sat down, and began to brew tea.
A small red clay stove, olive charcoal.
The water boiled, bubbling away. Madam Wang picked up the tea tongs, rinsing the tea, brewing, sealing the pot, and dividing it into cups. Her movements were smooth and flowing, as elegant as if she were performing a sacred ritual.
This was the foundation of an aristocratic family. Even if they were to kill someone, it had to be done pleasingly to the eye, following all the rules and conventions.
A cup of emerald green tea was pushed in front of Xu Qinghuan.
"Taste it," Madam Wang spoke, her tone flat. "This is pre-rain Longjing. This tea is delicate; if it leaves the soil and water of Jiangning, the brewed flavor just isn't right."
Xu Qinghuan sat down in the only empty seat.
She picked up the cup of tea and brought it to her nose to smell.
"The soil and water of Jiangning are the most nourishing," Madam Wang also picked up a cup, gently blowing on the foam. "But they are also the most unwelcoming to strangers. Some foreign seeds look plump, but if they cannot adapt to the local soil and water, rotting in the ground is a common occurrence. What do you say, County Princess?"
This was a blatant threat.
The Xu family were the foreign seeds. They wanted to take root in Jiangning? They had to ask if the masters of this land agreed. If they did not understand the rules, they could only rot in the mud and serve as fertilizer.
The surrounding madams exchanged glances, and someone covered their lips with a handkerchief, letting out a soft chuckle.
Xu Qinghuan did not drink the tea.
She placed the teacup back on the table, tracing the rim with her fingertip.
"Cannot adapt to the soil and water?"
Xu Qinghuan smiled, a smile that carried a hint of bandit-like audacity. "That just means the farmer lacks skill. Where we come from, if a piece of land cannot grow crops, we replace the soil; if the water is poisonous, we treat the source."
"Rot in the ground?"
She raised her eyes, her gaze crashing straight into Madam Wang's. "As long as the hoe is swung well, there is no foundation that cannot be dug out, and no soil or water that cannot be cured."
The tea lid in the Prefect's wife's hand made a sharp click as it hit the side of the cup.
Arrogant.
Simply arrogant to the extreme.
This was a declaration to dig up the roots of the aristocratic families, to shake the very rules of Jiangning.
Madam Wang's movements paused for a moment.
She set down her teacup, no longer pretending to be aloof and indifferent. She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve and methodically wiped her fingers, as if they were stained with something filthy.
"Some things cannot be dug up just by relying on a hoe."
Madam Wang abruptly changed the subject, her tone suddenly turning freezing cold. "I heard that a few days ago, the County Princess put on quite a majestic display at the Drunken Red Pavilion. That dish of Squirrel Mandarin Fish was made quite authentically."
At the mention of those words, the corner of Madam Wang's eye twitched.
"What a pity."
She tossed the handkerchief onto the table. Embroidered on one corner of the handkerchief was the character Teng. "A perfectly fine fish, insisting on being coated in a layer of sweet and sour sauce, blinding its eyes and clouding its heart. And what was the end result? It could only be treated as slop, thrown into a bucket to feed the pigs."
This was an insinuation.
It was also a verdict.
She was telling Xu Qinghuan: Your brother Xu Wuyou, and your Xu family, in the eyes of the aristocratic families, are just that rotten fish about to be thrown away to feed the pigs.
Your fate will be even more lowly than that slop.
The atmosphere in the meditation room instantly grew tense to the breaking point.
Everyone held their breath, waiting to see how this County Princess would handle this deadly challenge.
Xu Qinghuan, however, reached out and picked up the handkerchief that Madam Wang had thrown away.
She glanced at the character Teng, then casually draped the handkerchief over the cup of tea that was gradually turning cold.
"Madam is quite mistaken."
Xu Qinghuan's voice was unhurried, even carrying a touch of earnest reasoning. Everything in this world follows the cycle of cause and effect. If a fish stays quietly in the water, naturally, no one will bother it. But if this fish grows teeth and tries to jump ashore to eat people, then being caught and braised is only the will of heaven.
As for whether it gets fed to the pigs...
Xu Qinghuan leaned forward, her dark eyes shining brightly. That depends on whether this fish is asking for it, insisting on shoving its own face into boiling oil.
Crack.
A crisp sound rang out.
The teacup in Madam Wang's hand shattered.
Boiling tea flowed down through her fingers, dripping onto the red sandalwood table and emitting white smoke. Yet, as if she couldn't feel the pain, she stared fixedly at Xu Qinghuan, her gaze looking as though she wanted to bite a piece of flesh right off the other woman.
Refusing the face she was offered.
Since she refused to do things the easy way, they would just have to do it the hard way.
Crash!
A clap of thunder exploded outside the window, lightning tearing through the dim sky.
Immediately following, the synchronized sound of footsteps came from all directions.
Ten dark silhouettes were cast against the paper windows of the meditation room.
They were martial monks wielding wooden staffs. They silently surrounded the place, turning the meditation room into an impenetrable fortress.
The noble madams in the room did not panic; clearly knowing the inside story early on, they merely watched with cold eyes.
Madam Wang stood up.
Looking down at Xu Qinghuan condescendingly, she no longer concealed the murderous intent rolling off her body.
County Princess, the rain has grown heavy.
Madam Wang's voice was sinister, like an evil spirit crawling out of hell. The mountain roads are slippery and most prone to accidents. For the sake of your safety, County Princess, it would be better for you to stay in this convent and cultivate your character for the rest of your life.
There are plenty of scriptures in this Ciyun Convent.
She pointed to the fully packed bookshelves behind her. Enough for the County Princess to copy into her next life.
House arrest.
As long as a person entered the backyard of this Ciyun Convent, they could announce to the outside world that she was praying for the people or had been suddenly struck by a severe illness. In these deep mountains and old forests, for someone to die or go mad was far too easy.
Once the two men of the Xu family were defeated on the outside, this so-called County Princess would be nothing more than meat on the chopping block.
This was the method of the noble families.
Bloodless, yet capable of making one beg for life and beg for death to no avail.
Xu Qinghuan sat in her chair, unmoving.
Facing the overlapping shadows of staffs outside the window, facing a room full of noble ladies waiting to see her make a joke of herself, her face held not even a trace of panic.
She merely turned her head and glanced at the doorway.
Indeed, the rain is heavy.
Xu Qinghuan sighed, as if somewhat helpless.
Some old debts have also gotten damp and moldy.
Xu Qinghuan looked up and flashed a brilliant smile at the livid Madam Wang.
It is time to take them out... and give them a good airing in the sun.
