Jiang Yuan looked at the courtyard with suspicion, and Song Yansi's voice slowly rang in her ears again, "Those who can speak cannot see, and those who can see cannot hear."
Upon realizing that the person was disabled, Jiang Yuan immediately understood their earlier attitude: if they couldn't see, they didn't need to see; if they couldn't hear, they didn't need to care. "What a pitiful person."
“Yes.” Song Yansi looked at the increasingly lower dark clouds. The current Hui’an Temple has not been repaired yet. The apricot-yellow walls and courtyards are somewhat mottled and dilapidated, unlike the ancient and solemn imperial temple with glazed tiles and vermilion walls of yesteryear.
As for him, Song Yansi, looking at the desolate temple, he had died here in his previous life.
Chapter 56 Born from Thought
Thunder rumbled and large raindrops pelted the ground, turning the path to Hui'an Temple into a muddy mess. The carriage wheels sank deep into the mud, and several people wearing raincoats were desperately pushing the carriage from behind.
"Why would they come to this godforsaken place for no reason?" Xie Jiayan's voice sounded somewhat irritated.
Bao Yun simply poured some tea and handed it over, saying, "Perhaps it's effective."
“Miss,” Jinxiu’s voice came from outside the carriage, “our carriage can’t move.”
"How much further?" Xie Jiayan lifted the vermilion carriage curtain.
"Xue Ping said we're almost there." Jin Xiu, holding an umbrella and covered in mud, pointed to the faintly visible apricot color in the distance. "That's it."
"Get out of the carriage." Xie Jiayan lifted the curtain, and a few drops of rain splashed onto her embroidered shoes. "Let's walk up."
Bao Yun dared not disobey her, so she tied on her shawl and helped Xie Jiayan down from the carriage.
About an incense stick later, the door to the right wing opened, and Jiang Yuan looked curiously at the person who came out. He was about sixty years old and dressed in tattered clothes, except for the Buddhist beads on his chest, which were polished to a shine.
"It's been a long time since I've seen you, benefactor."
Song Yansi bowed slightly, clasped his hands together, and said, "It's been six years since we last met. How have you been, Master?"
Liao Chen smiled but did not answer, only looking at Jiang Yuan, "Has the female benefactor come to worship Buddha?"
Jiang Yuan quickly put her hands together in a gesture of respect, saying, "My household has been experiencing some misfortune recently, and I have come to pray for peace."
“Female benefactor, please follow me.” Liao Chen shook his head at Song Yansi, who then stopped in his tracks.
Jiang Yuan had no choice but to follow Master Liao Chen into the Buddhist hall alone. After entering the hall, Jiang Yuan knelt on the prayer mat, clasped his hands together, and then turned his fingers upwards as he bowed.
After she finished praying, he asked, "May I ask for a divination slip?"
Next to Liao Chendian was a divination stick container, the paint on which was already somewhat mottled. Jiang Yuan muttered incantations. In her previous life, she had prayed to Buddha quite often. Her movements were fluid and graceful. The divination stick fell to the ground, and the vermilion ink was imprinted on the ivory white stick: "Adversity and prosperity are just around the corner; temporarily befriend a virtuous person from the mountains; the Kun transforms into the Peng, and the waves of the sea surge; Yin and Yang will meet again in the human world."
"For whom does the benefactor seek this?"
"My husband." Jiang Yuan looked at the fortune slip. The Kun transformed into the Peng, which means "soaring through the clouds, carrying the blue sky, and rising ninety thousand miles high." Is this truly destiny?
"This divination slip has no solution." Liao Chen's eyes widened in surprise. He casually tossed the slip into the divination tube, and after a moment said, "Benefactor, just remember that you can gain everything by sacrificing one thing."
It was clearly a very auspicious fortune, yet he insisted there was no solution. Jiang Yuan didn't show it on his face, but inwardly he thought, "What a strange monk."
"Yin and Yang will meet again in the human world"—another death sign. Liao Chen twirled the bead in his hand, the scriptures on it slightly imprinted into his fingertips.
He remembered that it was April of the eighth year of Zheng'an when he first saw Song Yanji at the entrance of Hui'an Temple. At that time, Song Yanji seemed unusually lost, and he barged into his Buddhist hall in a daze, silently shaking down the divination sticks.
Alone I traverse two mountains, a lone phoenix soaring and turning; the Yangtze River carries no carp, and my beloved has vanished and will not return.
Regarding his wish for marriage, he looked at the fortune slip, shook his head, and said to Song Yansi, "The beauty has passed away; this is a dead fortune slip."
Afterwards, he just stared blankly at the fortune slip, sitting alone on the steps, his back looking quite pitiful, which added a touch of sadness to this monk. He remained there for the entire afternoon, and only stumbled out of the temple as dusk fell, without uttering a single word.
After that, Song Yanji would occasionally come over, but he would only drink tea and play chess with him, and would not talk about anything else. Song Yanji had a lot of insights into Buddhism, and his thoughts and ideas were very compatible with his, which made him happy. However, Liao Chen sometimes couldn't help but wonder how someone as insightful as him could have such a lot of resentment in his heart, which even the Buddha could not save him from.
The last time he saw Song Yanji was six years ago. He smiled and said he was getting married to the girl he loved most. Liao Chen was also affected by his emotions and invited him to draw a marriage fortune for his wife.
Alone I traverse two mountains, a lone phoenix soaring and turning; the Yangtze River carries no carp, and my beloved has vanished and will not return.
Exactly the same, still that same dead draw.
The beauty has passed away.
Yin and Yang meet again, ending the human world.
Both fortune slips requested people who were not present. Master Liaochen looked at the Buddha who was smiling while holding a flower, put his hands together, and whispered "Amitabha."
All things in the world arise from causes and conditions, and are born from thoughts.
"Is anyone home in the temple?" a woman's voice came from outside the temple.
Song Yansi, hands clasped behind his back, glanced casually at Xu An. Xu An nodded, and Song Yansi understood. Du Shui, standing to the side, was completely bewildered; what did they mean? He could only speak up, "Master…"
"Don't worry about it." Song Yansi felt a weight beneath his feet and saw Cheng Yu standing on tiptoe, hugging his leg and shaking him. "What's wrong, Yu'er?"
"My mother isn't here, and my father ignores me too." The little girl looked incredibly aggrieved.
"Alright, then Father will keep Yu'er company." Song Yansi lifted his robe and gracefully squatted down in front of Cheng Yu, looking him in the eye. Seeing the sudden gleam in his son's eyes, Song Yansi smiled and asked, "Yu'er, have you memorized the Thousand Poems you learned yesterday?"
Hmm… Song Chengyu blinked. Why did her father always start with such a heavy topic? Her mind immediately started racing. She reached out and patted Song Yansi's arm, adopting a mature yet childlike voice, “Daddy, let’s look at the scenery instead.”
Then, mimicking Song Yansi, he put his chubby little hands behind his back and pretended to stare at the eaves where the rain was pattering down.
After asking for a long time without getting an answer, Xie Jiayan and her group didn't stand on ceremony and went straight into the temple. As soon as she looked up, she saw Song Yansi squatting under the eaves, smiling with his chin on his hand, and a little chubby dumpling standing next to him.
Song Yansi had been studying since childhood and usually wore plain blue robes. Now, having shed his military uniform, he wore a deep robe with auspicious cloud patterns and a loose cloak over it. His hair was neatly tied up with a white jade hairpin, making his face appear even more handsome and refined. There was no trace of the awe-inspiring battlefield demon he once was.
"Miss," Bao Yun quickly reminded her when she saw that she seemed a little lost in thought, "Should we go over there?"
"Of course." Xie Jiayan quickly looked away, reached out and untied his oiled shawl, and Jin Xiu hurriedly handed him an oiled paper umbrella.
"Master, the people are here." Xu An glanced at Xie Jiayan out of the corner of his eye and whispered a reminder. These people from Miss Xie's group have been watching them for many days. If Song Yansi hadn't told him not to make any rash moves, those people would probably be dead ten or eight times over by now.
"Young Master." Before Jin Xiu could speak, Xie Jiayan's voice came from her rosy lips. She looked at Song Yansi and her voice was sweet and clear.
"What?" Cheng Yu was used to being called "Young Master" all the time, so he raised his little head and answered as soon as Xie Jiayan finished speaking.
Zhu Chuan, who was standing beside him serving, couldn't help but suppress his laughter.
"That annoying little dumpling." Xie Jiayan said with a smile, "Then what is the young master doing here?"
"Watching the rain."
"I was traveling when my carriage broke down on the road. It's getting late now. Could I ask to stay here for the night?" Xie Jiayan tried to sound pitiful, his eyes filled with tears.
"No." Song Chengyu refused almost without thinking. Zhu Chuan had said earlier when he was carrying him around that this place was too small and might not be enough for everyone. Now that they were here again... Song Chengyu tilted his head and counted... uh, eight people, there was even less room for everyone.
“…”
"This place is remote." Song Yansi rubbed his son's head, stood up, and the wind blew the hem of his clothes. "Why is Miss here traveling if she has nothing to do?"
"You can come to worship Buddha, but my young lady can't?" Baoyun said angrily.
"So this old temple is quite famous." Song Yansi didn't say much, but every word he spoke was meaningful.
“I have always been fond of Buddhist worship and have visited many temples around Lin’an. I only recently learned that there is a Buddhist temple here.” Xie Jiayan stepped forward and stood in front of Song Yansi, smiling as he gave him a half-bow to apologize. “I never expected to disturb you, young master. I hope you will not take offense.”
Perhaps it was because of the wind and rain that had been blowing for so long, but when he got up, he was a little unsteady on his feet. Fortunately, Xie Jiayan was quick and managed to grab Song Yansi's arm to steady him.
Bao Yun quickly rushed up the steps, helped Xie Jiayan down, and said anxiously, "Miss."
"It's alright." Xie Jiayan shook her head, met Song Yansi's cold gaze, her throat tightened, and she apologized, "It was my rudeness."
“Miss was indeed rude.” Song Yansi patted the sleeve that she had just pulled without leaving a trace, his expression a half-smile. “Men and women should not touch each other. Even if Miss really fell, she should not have pulled other people’s clothes.”
A gentle autumn breeze and drizzle fell as Xie Jiayan stood timidly watching him from the steps, holding an oil-paper umbrella. Jiang Yuan came out and saw this scene.
Her movements seemed frozen in time. Her heart surged with turmoil, and her thoughts instantly returned to her past life. He stood inside the pavilion, and she stood outside. The next moment, he took her hand, and from then on, the palace had one more Lady Xie…
"Mother!" Cheng Yu was the first to spot Jiang Yuan, and happily let go of Song Yansi's sleeve and rushed towards her.
"What is Yu'er doing?" Song Yansi turned to look at her, but her eyes just missed him. She reached out and hugged her son, smiling as she spoke.
“Someone said they wanted to stay here for the night.” Cheng Yu nestled obediently into Jiang Yuan’s arms, turning to look at Xie Jiayan.
Jiang Yuan then looked at Xie Jiayan. She smiled and took two steps forward, saying, "So it's Miss Xie." Jiang Yuan looked her up and down. Her skirt was stained with mud, and her hair was slightly damp. She looked so pitiful. "Miss Xie, you're in such a sorry state that I didn't even recognize you."
His fingertips dug into his palm, Xie Jiayan lowered his head, his eyes slightly red, the mist in them even heavier, "So it was the Marquis and his wife, I'm sorry you had to laugh at us."
"It's alright," Jiang Yuan shook her head and smiled. However, she changed the subject and asked with a hint of doubt, "Miss is still unmarried and is staying at a temple with a man. Aren't you worried about her?"
"Madam, be careful what you say!" Jin Xiu interrupted before she could finish speaking, for this concerned the young lady's reputation!
“Ah Yuan is absolutely right.” Song Yansi walked to Jiang Yuan’s side and looked coldly at the people in front of him. “I’ve brought some people with me, so why don’t we have them help Miss carry the car out?”
"Very well, then I thank the Marquis and his wife." Xie Jiayan said gratefully, but in her heart she wished she could devour Jiang Yuan alive.
Chapter 57 The Fragrance of Tea Flowers
"This is outrageous!" Bao Yun held up her umbrella to shield Xie Jiayan, her clothes soaked by the rain. She looked at the group of people pushing the car out in the distance and said angrily.
"That's fine," Xie Jiayan said, "so that my brother won't worry."
"But wouldn't Miss have come all this way for nothing, only to suffer that woman's temper for nothing?" Jin Xiu snorted.
"How could we come all this way for nothing?" Xie Jiayan covered her mouth, sniffing the fragrance on her sleeve. "What does Baoyun think of this fragrance?"
“It’s so familiar.” Bao Yun frowned, but it wasn’t the flavor her young lady liked.
"This servant understands!" Jinxiu exclaimed, her eyes wide. "This is just like the incense worn by the Lady of the Marquis."
"You little rascal, you have a really good nose." Xie Jiayan glanced at the temple in the distance. "But I added some herbal extract. Anyone who touches it will feel lightheaded for days."
Seeing that the two people in front of him seemed confused, Xie Jiayan chuckled, "Just now, I gave Marquis Anguo a tug."
On the way back to their room, Song Yan followed closely beside Jiang Yuan, feeling somewhat uncertain himself. The veins on Jiang Yuan's forehead throbbed, and the faint scent of tea and wild herbs seemed to be relentlessly wafting into her nose, tugging at her nerves.
The same was true in his past life; he was always imbued with the fragrance of rose petals, which lingered even when he was intimate with her.
"A-Yuan." Seeing that her steps were getting faster and faster, Song Yansi's heart sank and he quickly reached out to grab her arm.
"Don't touch me!" Jiang Yuan's voice was sharp, startling even herself. Song Yansi's hand froze in mid-air. She tried to calm herself down, then took his hand and shook it slightly apologetically, as if the voice hadn't come from her, "I've been really tired these past few days."
She had done this action a thousand times in her past life in front of him; it was how she looked when she was angry but desperately trying to hold back. Song Yansi watched her turn and push open the door, his gaze gradually turning cold, before turning and walking back towards the corridor he had just been walking down.
His footsteps faded into the distance. Jiang Yuan sat at the table, eyes closed, his fingertips tracing the shape of the old wooden square table, unconsciously drawing the character "忍" (ren, meaning to endure).
Her family needs her to maintain their honor and prosperity, her brother deserves a better future, she can't die as miserably as she did in her previous life, and there's Chengyu, her son…
He said: From now on, everything I own will belong to him.
The moment Jiang Yuan opened her eyes again, she had returned to her usual appearance.