In the Desheng Pavilion, Cheng Si-lang, who was growing somewhat anxious from waiting, paced back and forth.
“Go and see, why hasn’t she arrived yet?” he said.
The servant attending him quickly acknowledged the order. Just as he was about to pull open the door, it swung open from the outside, and Lady Zhu, dressed in splendid attire, appeared at the doorway.
“I didn’t know you were coming, sir,” she said, curtsying. “I spent too long dressing up. I hope you can forgive the delay.”
Cheng Si-lang returned the courtesy.
“It’s nothing,” he replied, pointing to a small bundle in front of him. “Take this back. I don’t want it.”
“This is your money,” Lady Zhu said.
Cheng Si-lang shook his head.
“This is not my money,” he said.
It’s Lady Cheng’s money.
Lady Zhu lowered her gaze.
“Then I certainly cannot accept it,” she said. “I am not worth it.”
“This money isn’t for you either,” Cheng Si-lang stated.
Lady Zhu looked up at him, puzzled.
“It’s not a matter of whether you are worth it or not. This money has nothing to do with you,” Cheng Si-lang replied with a faint smile. “It was given to me by my sister for spending.”
His eyes sparkled brightly, brimming with pride and joy.
Whenever that young lady was mentioned, they all reacted this way.
“Don’t overthink it. Since it has already been spent, there’s no reason to take it back,” Cheng Si-lang added, smiling once more. “Besides, if I were to return the money, I’d have to earn it myself and give it back to my sister.”
Lady Zhu looked at Cheng Si-lang and smiled.
“To have a brother like you is truly enviable,” she said, tears glistening in her eyes. “I once had an elder brother too, but he passed away long ago…”
Cheng Si-lang felt a twinge of unease.
“Please, don’t cry,” he said, somewhat flustered. “In truth, there’s nothing to envy. As an elder brother, I’m rather useless. My sister… compared to you, she’s had an even harder life.”
Even harder than me?
Harder than someone whose parents were condemned to death and who was herself consigned to life as a courtesan?
Lady Zhu let out a bitter laugh.
Indeed, though she was born with a dull mind, she later encountered an immortal sage who gave her a new lease on life. As for herself, she would never meet such a celestial being to lead her to rebirth in this lifetime.
“Please don’t laugh,” Cheng Si-lang quickly interjected. “My sister truly has had it rough. She must carry a great deal of pain in her heart. Even though she never speaks of it, I can see it clearly, yet there’s little I can do to help.”
He trailed off, then caught himself.
“What am I even saying?” he said with a chuckle. “I should be going now.”
Lady Zhu smiled and raised a hand to stop him.
“Young Master Cheng, since you are here and refuse to accept this money, at least allow me to fulfill my duty,” she said, her face lighting up with a smile.
Her eyes, filled with emotion and earnestness, sparkled with a captivating glow, leaving Cheng Si-lang’s attendant in the room utterly mesmerized.
Fulfill her duty…
What duty could a courtesan possibly fulfill?
“It’s better not to impose. I’ll be taking my leave now,” Cheng Si-lang replied, his face flushing red as he spoke.
“Chun Ling,” Lady Zhu called, turning her head.
Chun Ling answered promptly and entered the room carrying a zither.
“Young Master, please allow our mistress to fulfill her duty,” she said. “In the days to come, it’s unlikely we’ll meet again.”
Just as Cheng Si-lang was about to leave, Lady Zhu had already seated herself and began to play the zither. The soft, tinkling notes of the instrument filled the room.
“How deep, how deep does affection truly go? A mountain’s dusk is steeped in autumn rain; the road to the verdant grave in twilight’s glow,” Lady Zhu sang, her voice melodious and delicate.
The sorrowful, somewhat melancholic melody brought Cheng Si-lang to a halt.
“Who can share this desolate view all around? The west wind has aged the crimson maple trees, while silent grievances have long been found.”
Listening to the music and song drifting from the room, the four guards stationed outside the door exchanged glances. With a sense of ease, they continued their casual conversation in low voices.
…
The water rippled gently, blossoms and leaves swayed, as Qin Hu plucked a half-bloomed lotus from the pond.
“Careful, or someone might fine you,” the maid chuckled, covering her mouth with her hand.
Qin Hu smiled and offered the lotus to her.
Cheng Jiao-niang reached out and accepted it.
“What kind of flowers do you like?” Qin Hu asked.
“There’s nothing in particular I favor – they’re all lovely,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied with a smile, gazing at the lotus in her hand.
“Even flowers are the same to you?” Qin Hu asked, amused.
Cheng Jiao-niang nodded.
“Yet there must still be differences,” Qin Hu remarked, seemingly to himself, before changing the topic and pointing in another direction. “Look over there – those are blooming even more beautifully. Let’s go take a look.”
Cheng Jiao-niang glanced over, nodded, and began walking.
“Prepare ink and paper. Since you’ve gifted me a painting, I shall return the favor today,” Qin Hu said.
“Another painting?” the maid teased with a laugh. “Will it be finished before dark? If so, Young Master Qin will have to treat us to dinner.”
…
Dashing out of one courtyard, Ban Qin was already breathless, yet she dared not pause for even a moment.
“Where else?” she asked urgently.
The coachman quickly raised his whip to urge the horse onward.
“Not far to the east, there’s another inn with a large lotus pond in its backyard,” he replied.
“Hurry, hurry!” Ban Qin urged, tears glistening in her eyes.
He can’t die, he just can’t. If the duke were to really die, her mistress might never be able to marry again.
When Prince Ping was struck by lightning, it already stirred up controversy. If something were to happen to Duke Jin’an as well, what would people think of her mistress then!
The carriage sped away. Before it came to a complete stop, Ban Qin leaped down, her legs giving way and causing her to stumble. Without waiting for the coachman to help her up, she scrambled to her feet and dashed inside – only to collide with someone rushing out in the opposite direction.
“Sixth Young Master!” Ban Qin called out.
“Not here,” Zhou Fu replied curtly, letting out a sharp whistle. A horse tethered nearby immediately trotted over, and without waiting for it to halt, he vaulted onto its back.
Watching as horse and rider vanished in a cloud of dust, Ban Qin hurriedly turned and clambered back into the carriage.
Zhou Fu urged his horse into a gallop through the streets, stirring up a commotion of flustered chickens, scurrying pedestrians, and a chorus of shouts and curses – all of which fell on deaf ears.
His mind was consumed by a single thought: Where would Qin Hu prefer to view lotus flowers?
View them? Nonsense! He had no patience for admiring flowers. If anything, he relished crushing blossoms and scattering petals. If there was anything he might appreciate, it would be the withered, decaying lotuses in late autumn.
Withered lotuses! A spark of realization ignited in Zhou Fu’s mind.
“The lotus at Six Immortals Monastery may not bloom in abundance, but the decaying lotuses are said to be remarkably beautiful.”
Fragments of a conversation with Qin Hu from long ago flickered hazily in his memory.
Six Immortals Monastery!
Zhou Fu reined in his horse abruptly. Amid the animal’s shrill whinny and the startled screams of onlookers, he forcefully turned and set off westward.
…
Qin Hu held the brush for a long while without moving, while the maid stood nearby, frowning slightly.
“Young Master Qin, there’s still one stroke left,” she said.
“This last stroke is so crucial, I dare not make it carelessly,” Qin Hu replied.
Cheng Jiao-niang turned her head to glance at him.
“My lady, would you care to take over?” Qin Hu said, offering her the brush in his hand.
Just as Cheng Jiao-niang reached out to take it, a sudden shout echoed through the air.
“Cheng Jiao-niang!”
In that instant, the brush slipped from Qin Hu’s grasp and fell onto the table, ink splattering everywhere.
“Ah, what a pity – this painting is ruined,” the maid exclaimed in dismay.
Cheng Jiao-niang turned to look at Qin Hu, whose expression showed a trace of surprise.
“My apologies, I didn’t catch it properly,” she said.
Qin Hu smiled.
“No, it was my fault for not handing it to you well enough,” he replied, then glanced at Zhou Fu, who was rushing toward them, and raised an eyebrow. “It’s all this kid’s fault.”
Zhou Fu ignored him, reaching out to seize Cheng Jiao-niang’s wrist.
“Quick, we must leave right away,” he urged, turning to go without another word.
“What’s happened?” the maid exclaimed in shock.
But Cheng Jiao-niang was already being pulled away by Zhou Fu. The maid stamped her foot in frustration before hurrying after them.
Standing behind the table, Qin Hu let out a faint sigh, then followed suit and stepped forward.
“Lady Cheng,” a voice suddenly called out as someone stepped forward from the side, blocking their path. The person held a tray in both hands, on which lay a neatly folded sheet of paper. “Someone has sent a message for you.”
Upon hearing these words, Qin Hu abruptly halted in his tracks, his expression shifting dramatically.
His body trembled faintly, and his hands clenched tightly at his sides.
Scoundrel! How dare they!
“Scoundrel!” Zhou Fu, who had been stopped, shouted angrily as he raised his hand. “Get out of the way!”
But the man bowed once again respectfully.
“Lady Cheng, I’m afraid that if you don’t read it, you might regret it later,” he said.
Zhou Fu reached out to snatch the paper, but the man stepped back to avoid him.
“Lady Cheng, if you don’t read this, you will surely come to regret it,” he repeated firmly.
Furious, Zhou Fu changed his grip from a grab to a fist, clutching the man’s collar and hoisting him off the ground.
The sudden movement caused the tray in the man’s hands to wobble, and the piece of paper fluttered into the air. Cheng Jiao-niang reached out and caught it without hesitation, unfolding it immediately.
“Miss?” the maid hurried closer, noticing the subtle change in Cheng Jiao-niang’s expression. Finally sensing that something was amiss, she couldn’t help but tense up as well.
Just then, the sound of hurried footsteps approached once more, accompanied by the excited shouts of more people.
“Lady Cheng is here!”
“Lady Cheng!”
Two guards rushed forward.
“Lady Cheng, His Highness is waiting for you at your residence. Please return quickly,” they urged anxiously.
His Highness!
The maid’s eyes widened, her heart pounding in her chest.
“What happened?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked, looking at them.
“Why ask questions now? Hurry, let’s go!” Zhou Fu gritted his teeth and whispered urgently, grabbing her wrist once more.
But Cheng Jiao-niang pulled her hand away.
The sudden emptiness in his grasp took Zhou Fu by surprise, and he turned back to stare at her.
“My lady,” the guard stepped closer, lowering his voice. “His Highness’s condition is critical. The imperial doctors are unable to treat him. We beg you to come at once.”
The maid let out a gasp, covering her mouth with her hand.
What kind of condition could be so severe that even the imperial doctors were helpless and sought her help instead?
A fatal illness! Oh heavens, a fatal illness!
How could this happen?
The maid was about to start running when she noticed Cheng Jiao-niang still standing motionless, holding the piece of paper in her hand.
“I cannot treat His Highness’s condition,” she said calmly, her expression composed.
Her words left everyone present stunned into silence.
“My lady!” the two guards cried out, their expressions filled with disbelief.
Zhou Fu’s face mirrored shock as well, but as his gaze fell on the paper in Cheng Jiao-niang’s hand, his entire body stiffened abruptly.
Who was behind this?
“My lady, you haven’t even read the message yet,” the guard urged, his voice tinged with desperation.
“No need to read it. His Highness’s condition is beyond my ability to treat,” Cheng Jiao-niang repeated firmly. “Please seek help elsewhere.”
It was at this moment that Ban Qin rushed in, just in time to hear those words. Her legs gave way beneath her, and she collapsed to the floor, staring in disbelief at the figure standing before her.
Could she be mistaken? Was that really her mistress? How could her mistress possibly utter such words?
“Why isn’t she here yet?”
Inside the room, Doctor Li rushed to the door once more, peering anxiously outside, only to be interrupted by a low groan behind him.
“Doctor!” a eunuch cried out in alarm.
Doctor Li turned to see Duke Jin’an, seated in a soft sedan chair, spitting out a mouthful of blood. The once bright room seemed to dim instantly, mirroring the increasingly ashen hue of the duke’s face.
He hurried over, picked up a golden needle, and pulled aside the duke’s robe to insert it around his chest.
“Doctor, His Highness’s body is turning dark as well,” the eunuch called out.
“I know!” Doctor Li shouted, his gaze sweeping over the duke’s chest.
He knew – he had seen it before, though back then, it was a frail, small child. Now, that once-thin frame had grown sturdy and broad, but what did it matter? The darkness had returned, just as before, just the same! The same relentless, inescapable fate, circling back once more.
“Has Lady Cheng arrived yet?” he yelled hoarsely over his shoulder.
“Here, here!”
The sound of hurried footsteps and shouts echoed from beyond the door.
Everyone in the room surged toward the door with relief, only to see two guards rushing in—there was no sign of the girl.
Was she walking slowly, following behind?
Doctor Li pushed through the crowd and looked past them.
“My lord, Lady Cheng… she said she cannot treat him,” the guard said, dropping to his knees with a heavy thud, bowing his head as a sob escaped his lips.
For a moment, everyone in the room was frozen in disbelief.
“What nonsense are you saying?” Doctor Li exclaimed in shock, whirling around. “How could Lady Cheng possibly refuse to treat His Highness?”
“My lord, she truly said she cannot. She told us to seek help elsewhere!” the guard cried out.
Seek help elsewhere…
The eunuch’s expression darkened instantly. He grabbed the guard by the collar.
“And when she said she wouldn’t treat him, you didn’t think to bring her here anyway?” he hissed through gritted teeth.
The guard looked up at the eunuch.
“We tried… but we couldn’t bring her,” they said, their voices strained.
The eunuch stared at the guards, only then noticing the purplish bruises on their faces -clear evidence of being beaten.
“Not only would she not come, but she even had you attacked…” the eunuch murmured, his gaze growing distant.
“Lady Cheng was with a young master from the Qin family,” the guard added.
Young Master Qin – the Qin family.
No wonder she wasn’t here when we arrived. No wonder we didn’t know where she went to admire the lotus flowers. No wonder…
“I don’t believe it! She’s not that kind of person! She can’t be!” Doctor Li suddenly shouted, his voice trembling with emotion. “I’ll go find her myself. I’ll go to her!”
A nearby advisor reached out and grabbed hold of him.
“Li Sishen!” he shouted, his brows furrowed in anger. “His Highness can’t wait any longer! If she won’t treat him, then you must do it!”
Doctor Li shook his head.
“I can’t… I never managed to cure him before. I couldn’t heal him then, and I can’t heal him now,” he murmured, his voice trembling.
The advisor raised his hand and slapped him hard across the face.
“If you can’t treat him, then let him die by your hands – just like when he was a child. He should have died by your hands back then,” he roared.
Just like when he was a child.
“…Doctor… I don’t want to die…”
The child clutched his sleeve, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes, like a frightened kitten.
“…Can you save me? I don’t want to die. I still want to wait for Father and Mother to come for me…”
Tears welled up in Doctor Li’s eyes.
“Fine, I’ll treat him. I’ll treat him. So what if it’s death? What’s there to be afraid of?” he cried out.
The chaotic sounds of footsteps, shouts, and the swaying of his body roused the half-conscious Duke Jin’an from his stupor. As his senses sharpened, he realized the surroundings were shaking and receding.
“What’s happening?” he murmured, struggling to sit up.
“Your Highness, we are returning,” a eunuch replied, his voice hoarse.
Returning? Why are we returning? She hasn’t arrived yet.
“Your Highness, we’re going back. We won’t wait any longer,” the eunuch continued, his voice trembling with emotion.
Why stop waiting? How can we not wait?
“No… we must wait. We must wait for her. We promised to wait… How can we… break our word?” Duke Jin’an insisted, pushing himself up by the armrests. “Set the sedan down.”
“Your Highness!” Tears streamed down the eunuch’s face. Gritting his teeth, he gestured firmly. “Proceed.”
As the sedan chair moved forward, Duke Jin’an swayed unsteadily before collapsing back into his seat.
“No…” he cried out.
The sedan chair jolted to a sudden stop. The guards carrying it exchanged puzzled glances before realizing that Duke Jin’an had reached out and grabbed the doorframe.
“Your Highness!” the eunuch cried out, tears streaming down his face as he seized the prince’s arm. “Your Highness, please let go.”
No, he couldn’t. He had to wait – he must wait for her to arrive.
Under the sunlight, his dark, bruised hand strained with every ounce of strength, veins bulging from the effort.
“Move!” the eunuch screamed hoarsely, desperately trying to pry the duke’s hand away.
For a man on the verge of death, weak and fading, the grip was astonishingly strong. It was as if every last bit of his life force had concentrated in that single hand, and the eunuch could not break his hold.
“Move!” the eunuch shouted again, his cries growing more desperate.
The sedan bearers hesitated but obeyed, taking another step forward.
The door creaked violently, torn to one side by the force. The sudden shift caught everyone off guard, and the sedan chair swayed precariously.
Other guards rushed forward to clear the door away, allowing the sedan to continue moving steadily. The duke’s hand still dangled outside, gripping tightly a piece of splintered wood torn from the doorframe.
I must wait – I must wait!
[End of Volume 7]
