Chapter 5

"Stone! Do not talk nonsense!" Jingzhen shot him a sharp glare.

This child was born to Jingzhen and her former husband. It was a matter of the secular world, one the Buddhist order would not inquire into, and one the Xie Manor would certainly never concern itself with.

Thus, it had remained a secret. Jingzhen did not understand why the Heir had suddenly sought out Stone and brought him into the Marquis’s residence.

Jingzhen nervously gripped the longevity lock hidden in her sleeve. "The child speaks without thinking. I beg the Heir not to take offense!"

"A young child is pure; what they say are words of gold and jade, truly sincere! How could they be like adults, who speak only to weave falsehoods?" Fucang carried a tray of fruit past Jingzhen. He glanced at her briefly, then sent a chilling glare her way.

Jingzhen’s legs went weak, and she stumbled, barely managing to keep her footing.

She understood the insinuation in Fucang’s words. Folding her hands in a bow, she said, "This humble nun does not know how she has offended the Heir. I am dull-witted; I beg the Heir to enlighten me."

Xie Yan did not even lift his eyelids. He remained focused on holding Stone’s hand to practice calligraphy. "A few days ago, Huaizhou was waylaid by horse bandits. He was severely injured and bedridden, refusing all visitors. Officials throughout the capital, high and low, have been unable to see him. I hear the Reverend has already met with him? I, too, would like to find a way through the Reverend to pay a visit to my fine student."

"The Heir does me too much honor. This poor nun... how would I have any connections?" Jingzhen forced a laugh, her downcast eyes darting to observe the expression of the man in the seat of honor.

Beneath the plaque inscribed with "Virtue Thick and Fortune Great," Xie Yan’s face showed no sign of anger. He bent down to patiently correct Stone’s grip on the brush, saying gently, "You must hold the brush straight, otherwise the characters will be crooked and shifty, and you will suffer great hardships in the future."

"Is this right?" Stone wrote a few more characters, looking up at Xie Yan with a face full of reverence. Even his own father had never taught him to write or behave with such meticulous care.

No wonder the Heir was so renowned!

Xie Yan smiled warmly and handed the rice paper to Stone. "Very well written. Take these characters to show your mother!"

"Yes!" Stone ran triumphantly to Jingzhen, holding out the sheet of paper. "Mother, look! How is the calligraphy the Heir taught me?"

His young eyes blinked, his head tilted to the side, wearing a proud expression that begged for praise.

The characters taught by the Heir were indeed elegant, but the red ink had not yet dried and was winding its way down the page.

In a few moments, the entire sheet was mottled with crimson, as if stained with blood. It contrasted with the child’s smiling face in a deeply unsettling way.

Jingzhen’s smile froze on her lips. Upon closer inspection, she realized that the text Xie Yan had taught the child to copy was none other than the *Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva Fundamental Vow Sutra*.

That was a scripture for the deliverance of the dead!

Who in this room was a restless soul?

A chill crept up Jingzhen’s spine, and she fell to her knees with a thud.

In this scene, no matter how slow-witted she might be, Jingzhen knew that Xie Yan had already learned of her conversation with Jiang Yunchan.

Fudging the truth would no longer work. Jingzhen swallowed hard and said tremulously, "Spare me, Heir! I have never met Young Master Gu! It was the young cousin who came to the nunnery to inquire about him. I… I was afraid she would worry too much, so I lied and told her I had seen him! I truly have no connections! I really don't!"

"You naturally wouldn't!" Fucang rebuked.

Gu Huaizhou had been abducted and had long since vanished without a trace. Because a newly appointed top scholar had gone missing at the feet of the Emperor, the Emperor, fearing for the royal reputation, only announced that Gu Huaizhou was bedridden, while secretly ordering a search for his whereabouts.

The Grand Court of Justice and the Embroidered Uniform Guard could not uncover who had been powerful enough to abduct Gu Huaizhou. What could this old nun possibly know?

Fucang snorted coldly. He walked over to Jingzhen and tossed a thick stack of Xie Manor stationery onto her face. "Then let me ask you about things you do know! Who is Gu Huaizhou to you? And who is the young cousin to you?"

Some days ago, the Crown Princess had visited Cixin Nunnery and bestowed a stack of Xie Manor stationery upon Reverend Jingzhen for copying sutras.

This paper was precious and differed greatly in texture from the rice paper used throughout the residence.

Although the contents of the letter Jiang Yunchan had torn up could not be read, the texture of the paper was clear—it was exactly that of the Xie Manor stationery.

Why would Reverend Jingzhen give a noble's gift to someone with whom she had only a casual relationship?

Xie Yan had seen through the mystery at a glance and ordered Fucang to investigate. Sure enough, there was a great secret hidden between Jingzhen, Gu Huaizhou, and Jiang Yunchan.

"Old woman, speak clearly!" Fucang lacked the patience to dance around with Jingzhen. He grabbed her by the collar, a dagger thrusting toward her head.

He was large and imposing, his face twisted in a snarl like a Rakshasa, the tip of the blade pointing directly at Jingzhen’s eyeball.

Jingzhen was so terrified that her soul nearly left her body. She shrieked, "I’ll speak! I’ll tell you everything!"

She looked helplessly at Stone, who was huddled in a corner in terror.

Fucang had seized the child, which meant he had seized her very lifeblood.

The boy was not even seven years old; how could she ignore his safety?

Jingzhen slumped to the floor, looking to Xie Yan for help, her voice wretched and pleading: "Heir, the child is innocent. Let him go first."

Above, the curling smoke from the sandalwood incense obscured Xie Yan’s face, growing thicker until it was difficult to distinguish his features, which were as fair as a Bodhisattva’s.

In a trance, Jingzhen wondered how the Buddha-like figure standing aloof in the hall had become a Yama king from hell, demanding her life?

She was filled with awe and dread, bowing her head repeatedly.

After a long while, Xie Yan lifted a finger slightly.

Only then did Fucang retract his dagger and lead Stone away.

The wind stirred by the opening and closing of the door brought in the damp, freezing chill of the bamboo forest after the rain.

Jingzhen could not help but shiver. Not daring to delay, she said, "This poor nun is indeed A-Zhou’s elder sister. A-Zhou and the young cousin did indeed meet and grow close at Cixin Nunnery. It was the young cousin who first entrusted me to give a sachet to A-Zhou. She said she admired A-Zhou’s talent, and seeing that the young lady was sincere, I merely did them a favor..."

Jingzhen’s voice echoed in the empty room, layer upon layer, with no response for a long time.

Xie Yan’s expression remained unchanged as he idly ground the ink.

Jingzhen’s heart hammered, unsure of what the Heir intended, so she racked her brains and added, "Right! The young cousin also asked me to pass a message today: she said that regardless of whether A-Zhou is injured or ill, she is willing to marry him and serve him for the rest of his life!"

The air in the room suddenly grew thin, as if a pair of hands had gripped Jingzhen’s throat.

Struggling to breathe, she stammered, "Heir, that is all I know! After all, these are the private matters of lovers; behind closed doors, how much could we outsiders possibly know?"

"We outsiders..." Xie Yan’s hand, holding the ink stick, paused slightly.

A drop of ink fell, blooming into a jarring red on the rice paper, like a bewitching mandala.

The ink fell silently, but Jingzhen felt as though she had been struck by a blunt object, not knowing where she had gone wrong. "Heir, forgive me! I have truly told you everything I know!"

"Everything?"

"Yes! I would not dare omit a single word!" Jingzhen spoke with conviction, looking toward the hall. "I only hoped for the best for my younger brother and the young cousin. I beg the Heir to show mercy!"

"Reverend... what are you saying?"

Xie Yan finally set down his brush and walked to Jingzhen, gently helping her to her feet. "I am caught up in many affairs. If not for your reminder, I would have forgotten that my younger sister has reached the age of marriage. I should be the one thanking you!"

His voice was as warm as pearls and jade, and his lips held their habitual smile.

At such close range, Jingzhen could finally see that the Heir was still the upright, virtuous gentleman everyone praised.

Only then did she dare to let out a breath, folding her hands and saying, "I did nothing. They are a talented and beautiful pair; it is fate that they have come together."

She bowed her head, failing to notice Xie Yan savoring those last four words.

Fate...

Xie Yan nodded in return. "Reverend, your contribution is not small. Why don't I have a golden Buddha statue commissioned for Cixin Nunnery to express my gratitude?"

"Ah? That is too precious, it must not be!" Jingzhen was almost frightened to the point of collapse by this overwhelming favor, and she hurriedly knelt at Xie Yan’s feet again.

Xie Yan looked down at her, slowly bending over, his smile widening. "Reverend, you have labored too much. Reverend, you deserve it."

The cold, eerie words, accompanied by the cold wind blowing through the cracks in the window, soaked into her skin.

It was like a soft knife, scraping against her bones, chilling her to the marrow.

Jingzhen’s heart leaped, and she stole a glance upward.

Ten servants walked in, one after another, surrounding Jingzhen.

Xie Yan, bearing a compassionate smile, slowly exited the meditation room and closed the door, taking the last of the light with him.

Jingzhen tried to stand and leave, but was pinned to the ground by two servants.

The last two men in the line carried a bucket of liquid gold toward her.

The surface of the gold lacquer shone brilliantly, but because it had just been melted, the rolling heat hit her face like the gaping maw of a beast.

"What... what are you doing?"

"Naturally... acting on the Heir’s orders to cast a golden body for you, Reverend!"

A ladle of liquid gold was poured over Jingzhen’s head before she could react.

The gold lacquer wound down her ears and nose, and wherever it touched, it felt as if her skin were being scraped away alive.

Jingzhen felt as though her lungs were being torn apart. She was about to cry for help when she saw a tall, slender silhouette cast upon the window paper, holding the hand of a child.

She could not speak; once she spoke, she would not be the only one to die.

She listened in despair to the silver-bell-like laughter outside the window, her eyes gradually dimming.

Layer upon layer of gold lacquer was poured down, and her twisted face was cast into a serene, smiling Buddha.

Outside the window, Stone looked back in confusion and scratched his head. "Mother seems to be crying..."

"Your mother made a mistake and is repenting before the Buddha," Xie Yan said, rubbing the child’s head, his tone coaxing. "Be a good child and don't disturb your mother. Go to the front courtyard and have some candied haws."

"Candied haws?" Stone’s eyes lit up.

When he first entered the capital, he had craved the candied haws of the city, but his father had been unwilling to buy them for him, and his mother had long since stopped caring about him.

Yet the Heir, whom he had only met a few times, knew exactly what he liked.

"The Heir is so kind!" Stone excitedly hugged Xie Yan’s leg and acted spoiled for a moment, smearing ink from his hands all over the Heir’s robes.

"You little brat!" Fucang raised his hand to strike.

"Let it be. Why bicker with a child?" Xie Yan gave the servants a look, signaling them to lead Stone away.

Fucang looked at the dying figure inside the window, then toward the child skipping away to eat his candied haws, feeling troubled. "What about this child?"

"The child..." Xie Yan brushed the dust from his robes as if nothing had happened. "Jingzhen was right; the child has lived in the inner courtyard for years and rarely steps out. What wrong could he have done? He was simply led astray by those flies with ulterior motives."

Fucang knew the child likely did not need to be killed.

Reflecting on it, he felt the Heir’s words carried a hidden meaning, sounding more like they referred to that young cousin in Wenzhu Pavilion.

With the meddlesome people dealt with, the next to follow would be the young cousin...