My Cold-Hearted Wife Chapter 88

“Amitabha.” The abbot of Huiyuan Temple was a monk with kind brows and gentle eyes, deeply versed in the Dharma and proficient in Sanskrit. Upon entering, he said, “Our temple has heard that people at the foot of the mountain have fallen ill. We have resolved to recite sutras for forty-nine days starting tomorrow and to distribute medicine to the common people.”

Xie Xuanying said, “The abbot is compassionate.”

“I dare not accept such praise.” The abbot sighed and said, “This matter all stems from my own deluded thoughts. The spring water was a gift from heaven, nurturing all things with compassion, yet I gave rise to foolish notions, resorting to trickery and showmanship. Even the Buddha would blame me.”

He had taken all the blame upon himself.

Naturally, Xie Xuanying could not agree to this, and said, “Your temple distributes porridge and medicine, providing relief to the people – how could there be any fault in that?”

The abbot chanted a Buddha’s name and let out a slight breath of relief, then said, “The pressing matter now is to drain the water from the Willow Pool, lest it cost more lives.”

“That you are willing to cooperate is excellent.” Xie Xuanying was also concerned about this matter. “Why not drain it overnight and turn the soil to rebuild?”

“We shall do as Young Master Xie says.” The abbot agreed readily but also had a request. “This concerns our temple’s reputation…”

Xie Xuanying said, “You jest. For lotuses to bloom in a pool of compassion is only fitting.” He looked toward the other two and asked, “What do you two think?”

When it came to flattery, the female official could not outdo the eunuch.

Chief Steward He spread a smiling face and praised repeatedly, “Young Master Xie is absolutely right. The moment the phoenix arrives, the lotus blooms instantly – one can see that the Empress Dowager’s devotion to the Buddha moved the Buddha himself, bringing about this magnificent sight.”

He bowed from afar. “We too are bathed in heavenly grace!”

Director Pan was always more reserved. “A flower blooming reveals Buddha-nature -nothing could be more fitting.”

The abbot felt greatly relieved, pressed his palms together, and chanted a Buddha’s name: “Amitabha.”

He departed with light steps, leaving the three of them to continue their meeting.

Director Pan inevitably engaged in a war of words with Chief Steward He.

Chief Steward He insisted that the fault lay with the Provisioning Office – that their lack of foresight in giving the palace staff cold food had triggered the illness at its root, and that they must be severely punished regardless.

While Director Pan was willing to take the blame, she was not willing to take the real blame. Pushed to her limit, she said, “Why not report truthfully to Her Majesty the Empress Dowager and the Imperial Consorts and let them decide?”

Xie Xuanying drank two cups of tea before he heard them reach a consensus.

The result was as follows: By the Empress Dowager’s heavenly grace, the palace staff had been permitted to bathe in the waters of the Buddha’s spring. However, the Provisioning Office had failed to take proper considerations and had not adjusted everyone’s diet, causing damp heat to turn into cold qi and giving rise to illness.

Therefore, the entire Provisioning Office was punished – each member, starting from the Provisioning Officer, was demoted one rank, had half a year’s salary docked, and was made to carry bells for three days. The other female officials who fell ill due to lack of foresight had one month’s salary docked.

In short, the people around the two consorts and the Empress Dowager had also fallen ill from going to the Willow Pool, but since one must spare the dog for the sake of its master, they were let off.

The Six Bureaus and One Directorate bore all the blame.

Once both sides reached agreement, the next matter was treatment.

The Eastern Depot was responsible for screening the remaining workers to see if any had fallen ill, and indeed found several more palace staff. They had feared being locked up, and since their illness was not severe, they had concealed it.

Director Pan showed no mercy – those who had concealed their illness and those who had helped their companions conceal it were all punished.

Next, she sat in the rear, responsible for reporting the situation to the two consorts daily and handling miscellaneous matters. She also persuaded Consort Zhuang and Consort Shun to copy sutras and pray for the Emperor’s blessings.

These two consorts were naturally docile, unlike the arrogant Consort Li, and obediently chanted sutras and kowtowed every day, praying to the Buddha to grant them a child.

The Eastern Depot was responsible for searching the eunuchs outside, and likewise caught several. A courtyard was set aside, and those previously locked in the firewood shed were thrown in, with only those delivering food and medicine allowed in and out.

After that, there were the morning and evening visits to Young Prince An to inquire after his condition and to send word back to the palace.

Xie Xuanying’s work was already done, and he could have returned to the capital, but on the pretext of fearing the spread of illness, he stayed at Huiyuan Temple. He only sent someone back to the palace with a letter reporting the disaster situation. Of course, he would not openly say it was connected to Huiyuan Temple – he merely stated that during the investigation, he “happened” to learn that the refugees were afflicted with an epidemic.

According to the usual procedure, after a disaster was reported, the Emperor would excuse officials in the Tongzhou area from coming to the capital for an audience, simultaneously order officials to provide timely disaster relief, and, depending on the severity of the epidemic, appropriately exempt the locality from certain corvée duties, defer tax grain collection, and so on.

However, the most important thing was still the Huimin Pharmacy.

The Great Xia had regulations stipulating that the Huimin Pharmacies of every prefecture and county must stock medicines in preparation for emergencies, but to what extent this could actually be implemented and how many lives could be saved depended on the competence of the local officials.

Xie Xuanying could not concern himself with matters so far away. What he could do was urge on the demolition and reconstruction of the Willow Pool and order the guards to assist the monks in distributing free medicine to the common people at the foot of the mountain.

As a result, Huiyuan Temple not only preserved its reputation but also gained considerable renown.

And of all the people involved, the busiest was none other than Cheng Danruo.

The palace staff were her responsibility, and the eunuchs had nowhere to seek treatment – that was also her responsibility. All by herself, she was responsible for twenty-some patients.

Fortunately, all of them had dysentery, and the prescriptions were largely the same. She only needed to adjust the dosages of the medicinal herbs according to the severity of the illness, and for the severe cases, add an additional round of acupuncture to provide relief.

Yet people still died.

Both were eunuchs. Cheng Danruo had never taken their pulses, so she could not determine whether they died from electrolyte imbalance or from some complication. In any case, when she went to deliver medicine the next day, the old eunuch guarding the door said simply, “Two died yesterday. The rest are doing better.”

Cheng Danruo was stunned.

“They gave me a few silver ingots – awarded during the New Year festivities – and begged me to kowtow to you on their behalf, Auntie.” The old eunuch knelt down tremblingly. “They said, thank you for your trouble. They never imagined that when they were on the verge of death, someone would still come every day to deliver medicine. It was their misfortune. When they reach the King of Hell, they will surely speak well of you and pray for your long life.”

With that, he knocked his head three times firmly on the ground.

Cheng Danruo pressed her lips together, suppressing the tightness in her throat, and said, “Please get up.”

She set down the medicine pot. “Take your medicine properly. I’m going back.”

Even after walking far away, the sting in her nose would not subside, so she had to turn into a corner and stand there, slowly letting it pass.

Human life is as cheap as grass.

Three days later, the palace staff’s conditions had all stabilized.

Those with mild symptoms had stopped having diarrhea, and even the severe cases had improved greatly. Of nearly twenty palace staff, not a single one had died – a blessing in the midst of misfortune.

Once it was confirmed that no one else was showing symptoms, preparations were made to return to the palace.

Returning to the deep palace, seeing each other again would be as difficult as ascending to heaven.

Xie Xuanying had it in mind to run into her once more, to ask Cheng Danruo whether there was anything short or lacking in the palace, or any difficult matters – whether he could lend a hand and save her no small amount of effort.

So after nightfall, he went over to wait.

Sure enough, she left late. It was not until the hour of Xu (7-9PM) that she came out of the patients’ courtyard, carrying her medicine box and heading toward the tea stove room.

Xie Xuanying knew that after leaving the sick ward, she would not go straight back to her room to rest – she insisted on boiling everything she had carried on her in rolling water first.

That in itself was nothing unusual; the Provisioning Office had large pots and hot stoves, and she could simply have told the palace staff to do it, and even get a hot meal besides. But she feared that having spent so much time with the patients, she might carry the illness on her person, so she refused to go to crowded places and specifically requested a separate tea room, doing these miscellaneous tasks with her own hands.

Unfortunately, the tea room was inside, not far from the Provisioning Office, and it was not convenient for him to go over.

The figure drew closer and closer. He cleared his throat to alert her that someone was there.

Cheng Danruo was startled and stopped in her tracks.

“It’s me,” he said. “I want to say a few words to you.”

Cheng Danruo looked at him in puzzlement. “What is it?”

“I’m returning to the palace tomorrow to report back,” he said. “Is there anything you’d like me to pass on to my teacher or his wife?”

She blinked, as though only now snapping back to her senses after days of endless work. “Oh, no messages, but…” She began to speak but hesitated greatly. “There is something I’d like to tell you.”

Xie Xuanying immediately asked, “What?”

Cheng Danruo thought for a moment and glanced around. Although they were in the shadows of a corner, the courtyard behind them had Eastern Depot eunuchs at the gate, and imperial guards patrolled in front – sounds could carry.

Xie Xuanying saw her concern. “This is no place to talk.” A bold idea surfaced in his mind. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

But she said, “Not right now. I need to go back and change clothes first.” Today was different from the first day – she had performed acupuncture on several patients and had inevitably touched their personal belongings, so she needed to go back and disinfect herself. “Can we meet later?”

Xie Xuanying reacted quickly and immediately said, “Sure. Around the hour of Hai (9-11PM), I’ll wait for you at the Bodhi Court. Do you know where that is?”

She shook her head.

“Go out from your courtyard and head north. There’s a moon gate – pass through it and you’ll be at the Bodhi Court,” he said. “There’s a tree in the courtyard, and the narrow alley is just behind it.”

Cheng Danruo nodded. “See you then.”

She hurried off.

It was just past seven now, and they had agreed on around nine. There was barely enough time.

Cheng Danruo first went to the tea stove room, took off the cloth wrapping her hair and her homemade gauze mask, and threw them into the pot. She took the clay pot off the stove – inside was the dinner the Food Service palace maids had saved for her.

She disinfected the items while eating dinner.

After boiling them for fifteen minutes, she poured out the hot water, fished the items out, and put them in a copper basin to take back and dry. Fortunately, summer temperatures were high, and one night would be enough.

Then she boiled another pot of hot water, took off her outer cloak, and threw it into a wooden tub to soak.

She had no white coats, but a cloak was close enough. She had torn cloth herself and made two, rotating them daily.

She kept boiling water.

At this point, the advantages of being in the Bureau of Food became apparent. Water in the palace was neither hard nor easy to come by – fetching water was one thing, but fuel was hard to obtain.

Only in the Bureau of Food – the Dispensary Office had medicine stoves, the Provisioning Office had cooking stoves – was it relatively easy to borrow some to heat water.

Cheng Danruo added firewood and water and finally filled two full pots.

She carried the hot water back to her room, preparing to wash her hair.

In the heat of summer, wrapping one’s head in a cloth towel like a surgical cap every day would drive anyone to distraction. Every night she had to come back and wash her hair, and while she was at it, wipe down her body and change clothes.

As for bathing, there was no way. There was no bathtub, and no place indoors to rinse off. Wiping down repeatedly with a wet towel was the best she could manage as a “bath.”

This routine took over an hour.

Cheng Danruo would rather sleep less than compromise on hygiene.

After all, staying up late at worst might kill you, but not washing your hair or body would give you lice!

A modern person could die, but could not get lice.

She washed her hair with jasmine-scented soap – yes, the palace at this time did use scented soap, made from soap pods with added fragrances. Its cleaning power was decent, and it did not leave hair too rough. But to properly care for one’s hair, one still needed specially made hair oil.

How could Cheng Danruo have the time? She washed her long hair, which had been cooped up all day, and wiped down her body twice with a wet cloth to ensure hygiene standards were met, then changed clothes and went out.

Late at night, since she needed to avoid attention anyway, she could not be bothered to redo her hair. She put on a single-layer shirt and a skirt, changed into old shoes, and went out.

The hour of Hai was past nine at night – by the ancients’ daily schedule, already time for bed.

She blew out the candle, pretended to have retired, and quietly slipped out.

The moonlight was bright. Following Xie Xuanying’s directions, she soon arrived at the Bodhi Court. This place enshrined the South Sea Guanyin, and the noblewomen who came to the temple to offer incense often came here to pay their respects.

“This way,” Xie Xuanying said, raising a horn lantern and beckoning to her.

Cheng Danruo followed him, circled around the large tree, and turned into the narrow alley behind it. At the end was a concealed bamboo door. Pushing it open, bamboo shadows swayed – it was actually the back mountain.

Xie Xuanying explained, “Guanyin is enshrined here, so a bamboo grove was planted behind. The imperial guards don’t patrol into the grove, so no one will come.”

There were imperial consorts in the temple, and over eight hundred guards – every courtyard and every gate had someone stationed. But this was not the imperial palace, after all; monks coming and going always had small side doors for convenience.

This little path was a loophole.

It was just that with guards in the courtyards, guards at the foot of the mountain, and people at the intersections, he had not bothered to take extra precautions – and now it worked to his advantage.

The bamboo grove was neither large nor small. Xie Xuanying did not dare go too deep and followed the edge to the end, where there was a corner pavilion. He set down the lantern, took out two sticks of wrapped incense, lit them, and placed them beside the stone steps, then extinguished the candle. “Sit.”

Cheng Danruo surveyed the surroundings. The pavilion was remote and covered in green moss; only a small patch facing the sun was relatively clean.

She took out a cloth towel and spread it on the spot. “You sit too.”

She sat down first and undid her damp braid. The cloth towel was what she used to dry her wet hair so it would not drip on her clothes; now it served as a cushion, and her hair could only air-dry.

Only then did Xie Xuanying notice that her hair was damp, her collar was moist, and there was a faint jasmine fragrance about her – she had clearly washed up. He could not help but stiffen slightly.

“I performed acupuncture on people today, so I had to wash up before it was safe,” she explained. “My hair is a bit wet. It won’t do to sleep before it dries, so I need to let it air out. If it bothers you, I’ll put it up.”

He said at once, “It’s no bother, I…”

He had meant to say “I won’t look at you,” but the words reached his lips and he could not bring himself to lie, so he said instead, “I don’t mind.”

Cheng Danruo smiled at him.

She felt that Xie Xuanying’s greatest virtue was that he was not rigid or pedantic. He could empathize with people’s difficulties, and as long as it was nothing particularly outrageous, he would pretend not to see.

This was rare and valuable, and it allowed her some breathing room so she did not have to keep herself wound so tight.