Chapter Eight: The Visitor

No one spoke.

Beneath the peach blossom grove, atop the roof, a man of striking beauty wore the traces of the night’s revelry. He lowered his gaze to look at Jiang Li. His smile carried a hint of mischief, leaving one uncertain whether he was friend or foe, righteous or wicked.

Tong’er, who had been lost in thought, could not help but ask with confusion, “…A flower spirit?” The man was so handsome, almost otherworldly, his presence dazzling enough to blur the senses.

Before Jiang Li could reply, a commotion arose outside. Her heart tightened; when she looked again at the roof, the beautiful young man had vanished, leaving only the gently swaying peach branches, as if she had awakened from a long spring dream.

Tong’er, equally astonished, rubbed her eyes and said, “Am I dreaming?” Jiang Li replied, “It’s no dream. But now…” Hearing the voices grow closer, she smiled slightly, pushing aside her earlier doubts. “Let’s go kneel in the Buddha hall.”

Tong’er, now full of questions, did not ask further and followed Jiang Li to kneel before the clay Buddha, returning the offering tray to its place. They had just settled when lively voices sounded from outside. Someone pounded forcefully on the nunnery gate.

The banging startled the resident nuns; someone went to open the door, lanterns lighting up one by one. The noise outside grew louder. Jiang Li remained calm, kneeling with Tong’er.

Suddenly, someone burst into the Buddha hall—a matron carrying a lantern, who seemed surprised to find two people kneeling there so late. She called behind her, “Madam, there are two nuns here.”

From behind her, a procession entered: ladies and gentlemen, all dressed in fine attire. The “Madam” she addressed was a gentle woman of fair complexion and graceful figure. She approached, saw Jiang Li, and shook her head at the matron. “She’s not a nun; she still has her hair. The other must be her maid.”

Jiang Li watched in astonishment as the group invaded. Her long black hair made her pale face seem even paler; her frail body was wrapped in grey robes. Though her health was weak, her serene demeanor beneath the Buddha’s seat made her appear pure and gentle, easily inspiring affection.

Perhaps pitying her youth, the Madam softened her voice and asked, “Child, why are you here so late?”

Jiang Li replied, “I made a mistake; the abbess told me to kneel here in reflection.”

The crowd murmured in surprise. Someone said angrily, “So late—what mistake could warrant forcing a young girl to kneel in the Buddha hall? What if she falls ill? Aren’t religious people supposed to be compassionate? How can they be so cruel!”

Tong’er, quick-witted, adopted a sorrowful expression and said, “It was me. Yesterday, while serving my lady vegetarian dishes, I accidentally broke a plate. Abbess Jing’an said my lady and I must kneel here in the Buddha hall.” She wiped her tears. “It’s nothing for me, but my lady hasn’t eaten all day.”

At this, the crowd erupted in righteous indignation. As worshippers at the temple, they prided themselves on their kindness; seeing a young girl oppressed, they could not help but be outraged.

Someone exclaimed, “No wonder such cruel acts occur—clearly the nuns are heartless!”

“Indeed.”

Jiang Li looked around but saw none of the resident nuns. She asked, “May I ask, where have the young nuns gone?”

Her question made the crowd exchange uneasy glances, as if reluctant to answer.

The gentle Madam who had first spoken to Jiang Li asked tentatively, “You don’t seem to be from the nunnery.”

“My lady is Second Miss Jiang of the Jiang family from Yanjing,” Tong’er replied crisply.

“Jiang family?” A younger lady’s eyes lit up. “Is it the household of Grand Secretary Jiang Yuanbai?”

“Exactly!” Tong’er affirmed.

“How can that be?” The young lady, seemingly younger than Jiang Li, hesitated. “I only know of Third Miss Jiang, Jiang Youyao, but never heard of a Second Miss.”

The words “Second Miss Jiang” stirred little reaction from the young ladies, but the Madams exchanged meaningful glances. Eight years ago, Second Miss Jiang had pushed the stepmother of Master Jiang, causing a miscarriage—a scandal all of Yanjing had heard. Since then, she had been sent to the family temple for strict upbringing, never returning to the capital. Few had seen her; naturally, she was forgotten.

No one expected to find her here.

Yet the Jiang Li before them was nothing like the rumored villain who harmed her stepmother and younger brother. Kneeling in the Buddha hall, so frail and gentle—could this girl truly poison her stepmother? No one would believe it.

People are always more inclined to trust their own eyes.

Jiang Li stared at the Madam who first spoke to her, hesitated, and then asked, “Madam…are you Lady Liu from the household of Lord Liu Yuanfeng of Chengde?”

The Madam paused. “You recognize me?”

Jiang Li bowed her head, a shy smile on her lips. “Years ago, during the Peony Festival, you visited our manor to admire the flowers. I still remember.”

Lady Liu thought for a moment and said, “Yes, that’s right.” Her gaze softened further. “How rare that you remember.”

Lady Liu, wife of Lord Liu Yuanfeng of Chengde, had once been close friends with Jiang Li’s mother, Ye Zhenzhen. When Ye Zhenzhen first married into Yanjing, she and Lady Liu often visited each other. After Ye Zhenzhen passed away, leaving Jiang Li behind, Lady Liu, out of affection for her friend, often checked in on Jiang Li.

Later, when Ji Shuran entered the household, Lady Liu refrained from visiting, and their relationship faded. The Peony Festival Jiang Li mentioned was likely the last time Lady Liu saw her. Now, as Jiang Li brought it up, Lady Liu remembered her late friend’s face.

Lady Liu studied Jiang Li closely. Perhaps feeling a pang of guilt over her old friend, she found herself growing more affectionate toward the girl. “So Master Jiang sent you here?”

Jiang Li nodded slightly.

“You are the legitimate daughter of the Jiang family in Yanjing, Master Jiang’s own child. How can you live in such a place? Summer’s humidity is at its worst—kneeling all night, what if you fall ill? Someone is clearly making things difficult for you. Second Miss Jiang, come with me to Yanjing tomorrow.”

Tong’er’s eyes lit up—the Madam was offering Jiang Li support. After so many years abandoned in Qingcheng Mountain, Jiang Li had been forgotten. Now, Lady Liu, an official’s wife, could speak up for her in Yanjing; perhaps word would reach Jiang Yuanbai, and he would remember his daughter left in the nunnery.

Yet, after Lady Liu finished, she did not hear the answer she hoped for. Jiang Li looked up in astonishment, a fleeting joy in her eyes, but it quickly turned to hesitation. She then shook her head firmly. “Thank you, Madam, for your kindness, but I’m afraid that won’t be possible.”

－－－－－－Extra－－－－－－

My son made a brief appearance and ran off.