As the year drew to a close, the number of pilgrims at Xuan-miao Temple had dwindled significantly, yet the temple grounds remained lively and bustling.
“The fire isn’t strong enough- you two go and tend to it,” urged Abbess Sun, shooing two young attendants toward the task.
The two children hurried off to comply.
“What else is there? What else needs to be prepared?” Abbess Sun continued to pace restlessly, muttering to herself, convinced she had overlooked something.
Ban Qin entered from outside and smiled at the sight of her.
“Abbot, there’s no need to fuss,” she said. “It’s just a temporary stay, after all.”
“Even a temporary stay is still a stay- we mustn’t be careless,” Abbess Sun replied, a hint of regret in her voice. “Back in the summer, I said I would replace the mats in the room, but I never got around to it. Now, if we heat the room, they’re sure to carry a musty smell.”
“Not at all,” Ban Qin replied, shaking her head with a smile. “The heating has been on for a while- it doesn’t smell musty at all. In fact, it smells quite fragrant.”
Abbess Sun remained uneasy.
“We mustn’t show any neglect toward Miss’s guest, or it would disgrace her,” she said anxiously.
“No one can disgrace our lady but herself,” Ban Qin replied with a light laugh.
Abbess Sun also smiled and nodded- those were indeed words their lady would say. She looked at the young girl before her.
Ban Qin…
“Did you have your name changed too?” she asked amusedly, recalling some humorous past incidents.
Ban Qin chuckled.
“Who else had theirs changed?” she inquired.
She didn’t answer Abbess Sun’s question directly, which in itself sounded like confirmation.
“…Jin Ge’er,” Abbess Sun said with a laugh.
As the two chatted, they walked outside. Ban Qin couldn’t help but laugh when she heard this.
“Jin Ge’er?” she covered her mouth, giggling.
So it turned out there might be more than one male version of “Ban Qin.”
Just then, a voice responded from nearby.
“Ban Qin, were you calling me?” Jin Ge’er said as he ran over.
Ban Qin and Abbess Sun exchanged glances and smiled, leaving Jin Ge’er utterly bewildered by their laughter.
“Have those people been settled in?” Ban Qin asked, stifling her laughter and clearing her throat.
Jin Ge’er nodded.
“They didn’t bring many people. The guest rooms are just enough to accommodate them. That young master is staying in our lady’s quarters,” he replied.
Ban Qin nodded.
“I’ll go see if he needs anything,” she said.
“Go ahead. How come their entire party is made up of men? They didn’t even bring a single female attendant,” Abbess Sun remarked. “You go check on them, and I’ll see if Miss has finished her nap.”
With that, the two went their separate ways.
With directions from Jin Ge’er, Ban Qin made her way to this courtyard. Despite it being winter, the area showed no signs of neglect, a testament to its careful upkeep.
This is where Miss stayed back then… Right here, she faced those dangerous and repulsive individuals…
Ban Qin bit her lower lip, filled with regret that she hadn’t been by her lady’s side during those times.
“Ah!”
A sudden, sharp scream rang out, startling her.
She had already reached the courtyard gate. Through the open door, she could see a child inside- a boy around six or seven years old- letting out one meaningless shout after another while wildly waving a tree branch in his hand.
“Liu Ge’er… put that down, you might cut your hand…”
A young man hurried over, reaching out to take the branch from the child. But the little boy waved it wildly, shouting and resisting. The youth struggled to disarm him without causing harm, taking several hits to his hands and face in the process. He seemed not to notice, focused solely on carefully prying the branch free.
“Miss, Miss, put that down- here, play with this instead…”
Before Ban Qin’s eyes, the scene seemed to shift. She was back in a Taoist temple, in a similar small courtyard- a little young lady waving a branch, laughing foolishly as she ran, while a young maid chased anxiously after her.
“Liu Ge’er… time to eat…”
“Open your mouth, come on… be good, take a bite…”
Rice grains scattered everywhere; the bowl was knocked over.
“You mustn’t eat things off the ground…”
Without thinking, Ban Qin took a step forward.
“Miss, drop that- you mustn’t eat things off the ground… give it to me, quick…”
The young maid urgently smacked a piece of cake out of the little young lady’s hand. A dry, vacant wail immediately filled the air.
“Liu Ge’er, don’t run off…”
The child, who had just had the dirty rice ball taken away, shouted and dashed toward the other side of the courtyard. He tottered unsteadily, stumbling forward without watching where he was going.
Duke Jin’an hurried after him, while Ban Qin moved to intercept the child from the opposite direction.
“Listen to me, listen- I’ll take you to play, let’s go play,” she said, bending down to his level.
The child giggled at her, his expression vacant, eyes wide and unblinking. Drool dripped onto his clothes.
Nine out of ten children with intellectual disabilities appear odd or unattractive to others- their lack of control over facial expressions often leads to strange or unsettling looks.
As he laughed, the child suddenly pushed her away and continued wobbling around the courtyard, babbling incoherently.
Duke Jin’an glanced back at the scattered rice bowl on the ground and quickly turned to clean it up.
“Young Master, let me handle it,” Ban Qin quickly offered.
Duke Jin’an did not insist. He sat down, watching the child wander aimlessly around the courtyard, catching his breath for a moment as he lost himself in thought.
“He wasn’t like this before,” he said. “He fell ill. Once he’s better, he’ll be fine again.”
Ban Qin, who was squatting to clean up, glanced at him and murmured in agreement.
After a brief rest, the prince stood up and walked over again.
“Liu Ge’er, let me change your clothes,” he said, gently taking the child’s hand.
The child, unable to understand, simply babbled and cried, unclear about what was happening.
Men truly aren’t suited for caregiving- especially not for caring for a child with intellectual disabilities. Why didn’t this young master bring any servants to assist him?
“Young Master, let me help you,” Ban Qin quickly offered, stepping forward to lend a hand.
“I don’t need your help!” Duke Jin’an snapped, turning sharply toward her.
Ban Qin froze, startled by his tone.
“No one can help forever- not you, not anyone,” he continued, his voice softening as he turned back to the child. “Liu Ge’er, be good now. I am going to change your clothes.”
Watching the young man patiently coaxing the restless, noisy child without a trace of impatience, Ban Qin felt a pang in her nose and her eyes grew moist. She lowered her head and said nothing more, taking the bowl to the kitchen before returning with a broom to clean up the mess on the ground.
Footsteps sounded at the courtyard gate.
“Miss,” Ban Qin called out with delight as she looked up. “You’re awake.”
Cheng Jiao-niang, wrapped in a cloak with her hood up, entered and nodded. Her gaze fell on Duke Jin’an, who was also walking toward her with a happy expression. She lowered her head and curtseyed in greeting.
“Look, this is the patient,” Duke Jin’an said, pushing forward the child who was still struggling in his grasp. His face was a mix of excitement and anxiety. After a moment, he added, “Let’s discuss this inside.”
But getting the child into the room proved difficult. The boy cried and resisted, eventually plopping down on the ground and refusing to move.
“It’s fine. The location doesn’t matter for the examination,” Cheng Jiao-niang said calmly.
Duke Jin’an nodded, unable to fully conceal his nervous anticipation.
“Oh, the cause was a fall from a height,” he suddenly remembered to explain. “About… the height of a single-story building… or perhaps a bit higher…”
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded and turned her attention to the child sitting on the ground.
The boy had quieted down and was now focused on digging in the dirt. In the blink of an eye, he scooped up a handful of mud and tried to put it in his mouth. Duke Jin’an quickly crouched down to knock it away, causing the child to burst into tears.
“Liu Ge’er, you can’t eat this…”
“Liu Ge’er, I’ll go get you some pastries to eat.”
Cheng Jiao-niang took a few steps back and watched quietly with Ban Qin as the young man tried to soothe the crying child while hastily fetching some pastries. Unsurprisingly, the pastries weren’t so much eaten as they were smeared everywhere- a bite taken here, half dropped there- covering both the ground and the child’s clothes.
“…The injury occurred over a month ago…”
Duke Jin’an continued speaking to Cheng Jiao-niang as he tended to the child.
“…He was unconscious for five days at the time… When he woke up, he could eat and sleep normally, but he no longer recognized anyone.”
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him.
“So, he simply… doesn’t recognize people anymore?” she said, her gaze shifting to the child who was now lying on the ground, playing with his own fingers and babbling happily to himself.
This was clearly far more serious than just failing to recognize people…
“His… his mind isn’t quite clear yet,” Duke Jin’an quickly explained, looking up at Cheng Jiao-niang. “I was worried about delaying treatment, so I brought him to you. Do you think it’s still possible to treat him?”
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him and shook her head.
Duke Jin’an abruptly stood up, startling Ban Qin.
“Please… take another look. Look carefully. If not today, then tomorrow,” he pleaded, his voice trembling and his eyes filled with desperation. Ban Qin couldn’t bear to watch and lowered her gaze.
“His condition is beyond my ability to treat.”
The girl’s voice cut clearly through the courtyard, unmistakably reaching Duke Jin’an’s ears.
“No, please look again. Look once more, carefully,” he urged hoarsely, taking a step forward.
“Your Highness,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, her expression unchanged. “You didn’t bring him here because you feared delaying treatment. You already knew my rule when we last spoke.”
Duke Jin’an froze, clenching his fists in silence.
“The illness of Prince Qing is not necessarily fatal,” Cheng Jiao-niang stated. “Since you are aware of my rule, you must have already known in your heart that I cannot treat him.”
The courtyard fell into a tense silence, broken only by the vacant, monotonous giggles of the child lying on the ground.
Only treating those who brought the patient to the door.
Only treating those at death’s door.
Do not form marital ties with families she treated.
He knew. Of course he knew- he knew everything about her.
Duke Jin’an lifted his head and scanned the courtyard.
He even knew that someone had been struck dead by lightning in this very yard.
He took a deep breath and let out a bitter laugh.
“He’s already like this,” he said, pointing at the child on the ground.
Perhaps out of exhaustion, the child had stopped giggling and playing with the dirt and branches. Instead, he was drooling and mumbling incoherently.
“He’s already like this- isn’t that as good as being dead?”
He finished speaking and fixed his gaze on Cheng Jiao-niang, staring intently as if trying to pin her in place, to keep her from moving even an inch. But it was useless. The girl slowly shook her head once more.
“This does not qualify,” she said.
“This does!” Duke Jin’an shouted sharply, taking a step forward until he stood directly in front of Cheng Jiao-niang, looking down at the tip of her nose. “This does!”
His voice was filled with anger, and his stance was so aggressive that it seemed he might reach out and grab her at any moment. If this had happened under different circumstances- like when members of the Cheng family had suddenly turned furious while yelling and arguing- Ban Qin would have rushed forward without hesitation to keep them even half a step away from her lady. But now, she found herself frozen, unable to move, and on the verge of tears.
She looked up at the young nobleman. Though his voice was angry, his expression was unmistakably despairing.
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him and suddenly reached out, placing a hand on his shoulder.
Duke Jin’an stiffened, feeling her hand pat his shoulder gently twice.
“Fang Bocong.”
A girl’s voice sounded by his ear.
It had been so long since anyone had called him by that name. He had almost thought no one but himself remembered it anymore.
Fang Bocong, Fang Bocong, don’t be sad.
Though no one actually spoke those words, the two gentle pats conveyed exactly that meaning.
Duke Jin’an turned his head away and slightly raised his chin.
“He’s already like this- what difference is there between this and death?” he said, slowing his words and trying to steady his emotions to avoid losing composure entirely.
“In every other way, he is well- healthy. He can eat, sleep, play, and laugh,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied. “He will not die.”
“But he is already dead,” Duke Jin’an turned back to her and cried out, then lowered his voice and shook his head. “He is dead. My Liu Ge’er is gone- already gone.”
Ban Qin could no longer hold back- she covered her face with her hands and wept.
“If your Liu Ge’er is already dead, then there is naturally nothing I can treat,” Cheng Jiao-niang said.
Duke Jin’an stared at her. This girl’s expression had remained utterly unchanged from the start- no surprise or joy at reuniting with someone from the past, no sorrow or pain upon hearing his plea for treatment, no disdain or pity when faced with such a child. Nothing. It was as if she hadn’t seen anything at all, as if none of this had anything to do with her.
Yes– what did any of this have to do with her?
Duke Jin’an took two steps back and raised his head to look at her again.
“Yes, I know. You only treat those on the verge of death,” he said, taking a deep breath. “But what about the Thirteenth Young Master of the Qin family? He wasn’t dying, was he? Yet you still treated him.”
“His case was different,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, shaking her head.
“Oh, right. Of course,” Duke Jin’an nodded. “He was as good as dead—half killed by your provocations.”
He laughed bitterly and took a step forward.
“Then you can treat Liu Ge’er the same way. Frighten him to death, or… find some other way to make him…” he urged frantically.
Cheng Jiao-niang continued to shake her head.
“Can you stop shaking your head?!” Duke Jin’an suddenly roared, his face darkening with rage, his hands clenched tightly at his sides.
His shout once again plunged the courtyard into tense silence.
After a moment of stillness, Cheng Jiao-niang slowly shook her head again.
Duke Jin’an stared at her, caught between fury and a desperate, humorless laugh.
“The case of Young Master Qin is different from his,” Cheng Jiao-niang said, her gaze falling on the child on the ground, who now seemed drowsy and on the verge of sleep. “He has no heart.”
No heart?
Ban Qin looked at Cheng Jiao-niang in astonishment- just like she used to be…
“Young Master Qin had a heart. He knew he was ill- he had desires, fears, and hatred. He was capable of extreme joy and sorrow, dramatic rises and falls. His illness was not in his legs, but in his heart. A sickness of the heart is a fatal condition, which is why I could treat him,” Cheng Jiao-niang continued, pointing at the child. “But your brother is now a person without a heart. To him, he does not believe he is ill. As you said, he both is and is no longer your Liu Ge’er. For him, he does not know who he is, nor does he care. He is simply himself- neither fully alive nor truly dead, without awareness, without desire, without joy or fear. Therefore, he is not ill- let alone suffering from a fatal condition.”
Duke Jin’an stared at her, shaking his head, his hands clenched tightly.
No, that’s not true. That’s not true. He is ill, he is ill. Please, just say he is ill. He is ill.
Cheng Jiao-niang lowered her head and curtseyed.
“Therefore, Your Highness, your brother’s condition is not fatal. I cannot treat him,” she said.
The courtyard fell into silence once more, but this time it was different from the earlier tense stillness. The anger and suffocating pressure had vanished, leaving behind a stillness like that of stagnant, lifeless water.
“Is that so? I（吾）… understand.”
After what felt like both an eternity and merely an instant, the young man’s voice slowly broke the silence.
I…（吾）
It was the self-referential term used by those of imperial nobility.
Ban Qin bowed in respect.
Duke Jin’an slowly bent down, reached out, and gathered the sleeping child from the ground.
“Liu Ge’er, you can’t sleep on the ground- it’s too cold,” he said, cradling the child gently in his arms and rocking him softly. “I will take you to… sleep in the carriage.”
He did not enter the house but turned instead to walk directly outward.
It seemed he had no intention of staying and was preparing to leave. Ban Qin sighed inwardly and couldn’t help stealing a glance at Cheng Jiao-niang, whose expression remained as composed as ever.
Just as he reached the gate, Duke Jin’an paused once more.
“Cheng Fang.”
He spoke the name.
It was the first time anyone had called her by this name. Ban Qin was momentarily taken aback.
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him.
Duke Jin’an turned around. Under the bright midday winter sun, his sharply defined face was cast in clear light, his eyes deep and dark like still, shadowy pools.
“I want to ask you- when you refuse to treat him, is it because you truly cannot, or because your rule forbids it?” he said.
