Chapter 17

Fu Tingjun gazed at the sunlight streaming down from the rooftop and suddenly thought—if only time could stay frozen at this moment forever!

Fu Tingjun was stunned.

Before he could finish speaking, Fu Tingjun had already jumped up: "Ninth Master, please send me back to Huayin. I don't want to go to Weinan."

Why leave at dusk? What was the hurry to travel in the pitch dark? If she were caught as a refugee, wouldn't that be unjust?

What exactly was Grand Uncle so worried about?

When she was a child, she and her sisters had played hide-and-seek in Grandmother's room and broken her favorite plum vase. None of them would admit to it, so Grandmother made them kneel in the main hall as punishment: "You are all young ladies of the Fu family—of pure birth and distinguished standing. How is it that when trouble arises, every one of you behaves like those base-born folk from the back alleys, all timid and indecisive? It was only a broken plum vase. What harm in admitting it? If it must be repaid, repay it; if it must be punished, accept the punishment. Can you not even bear that? If you dare to do the deed, you must dare to own it. If you dare not own it, then do not do it. I make you kneel today not because you broke the vase, but because none of you would admit it, none of you would stand tall and face the world with integrity..."

Fu Tingjun curled up in the corner of the bed like a wounded kitten.

If even he could not make sense of it, how could she—a delicate young woman raised in the inner chambers—possibly understand?

Zhao Jiuye left.

Her maternal uncle had passed the county examination at a young age, but after repeated failures in the provincial examinations and with the family's fortunes declining, he had abandoned the official path entirely and devoted himself to business. Over the years he had amassed a fortune and was now quietly regarded as the wealthiest man in Weinan. Even Grand Uncle spoke of him with considerable admiration. Her uncle had four sons and no daughters, and he doted on her greatly. Whenever he acquired something rare, even if his own sons went without, he would always send a share to her. Entrusting her to her uncle would naturally be the best option. But this situation was exceptional—even her own parents had chosen to compromise, and she had no real confidence that her uncle would step forward on her behalf...

"My name is A Sen!" Seeing Fu Tingjun smile at him, he grinned back, his big eyes narrowing slightly, looking quite endearing. "Ninth Master gave me this name. He said he found me in front of three trees, so he called me A Sen." As he spoke, he traced on the ground with his foot. "The 'Sen' in A Sen is three wood characters, written like this!"

What on earth had happened?

The egg white was silky smooth, the yolk rich and creamy.

Fu Tingjun smiled radiantly and lowered her head to sip the congee.

Cold sweat broke out on her brow, yet she stubbornly refused to lie down and rest.

It was fine-quality "June Snow" rice.

Fu Tingjun's tone was hesitant: "I know that going back now will only make the Fu family a laughingstock. No matter how much resentment I hold in my heart, my father, my mother, my elder brother, sister-in-law, nephew, and the sisters I grew up with still have to live on in the Fu family... At the very least, the elders of the family should know..." She lowered her head, her expression somewhat lost.

An oval face, slender curved brows, and large eyes.

Zhao Jiuye felt a pang of pity and said, "You have just recovered from a serious illness—rest well. I'll have someone bring you lunch..."

Fu Tingjun pressed her lips together.

She leaned against the headboard.

Zhao Jiuye sighed inwardly.

This girl—she really was interesting!

Zhao Jiuye shook his head slightly.

Fu Tingjun saw a boy of eight or nine years, skinny as a rail but with an oversized head, wearing a short coarse garment covered in patches. In one hand he held a large coarse-porcelain bowl, in the other a pair of chopsticks, staring at her with wide, curious eyes. His thin wrists made one worry whether he had the strength to hold such a big bowl steady.

A faint rustling sound came from within the room.

Fu Tingjun smiled at him kindly, took the congee, and asked softly, "What's your name?"

When matters had reached an irredeemable point, why tolerate Zuo Junjie again and again? Why even sacrifice her—sacrifice his own concubine?

If she went to Weinan and accepted her mother's arrangement, giving up her identity as a daughter of the Fu family, it would be tantamount to admitting the truth of Zuo Junjie's baseless accusations. If she did not go to Weinan, then Zuo Junjie had fled after driving Grand Uncle's concubine to death, and she—a woman already declared dead and buried—would suddenly reappear to dispute right and wrong with him. The matter the Fu family had desperately tried to conceal would be exposed before everyone, and those who had never known of it would learn of it all... Wouldn't that be slapping her own face?

"However, going back to Huayin now would be useless anyway," he said. "Some days ago, the Fu family let it be known that Zuo Junjie, drunk and lacking in virtue, made improper advances toward your uncle's concubine. Unable to bear the humiliation, she hanged herself. The Fu family reported the matter to the authorities, and the magistrate sent constables to summon him at Guangtao Lane—only to find the place deserted, with Zuo Junjie nowhere to be found. The matter has already been brought to the attention of the Provincial Surveillance Commission, and reports have been filed with the Ministry of Justice and the Ministry of Rites to strip Zuo Junjie of his scholarly title. Official word should reach Xi'an Prefecture by the end of the month."

Zuo Junjie was a sneaky, contemptible man. The reason he dared to act this way was because he had calculated that the Fu family would not dare to make a fuss. Rather than hoping he would have a change of heart and quietly back down, it was better to just lay all the cards on the table—if anyone could just pick up some object and claim it was proof of an illicit affair with a daughter of the Fu family, then none of the Fu daughters would be able to live, and the Fu family's reputation would become a laughingstock! Though there would certainly be rumors and gossip, that was still better than being held hostage by Zuo Junjie like this... one death after another...

Seeing the half-bowl of congee she had placed by her bedside, he actually swallowed his saliva: "You, why aren't you drinking the congee? Was it not cooked well?"

A Sen's liveliness dispelled the cold and tense atmosphere, and Fu Tingjun's mood improved considerably.

It was truly delicious!

Fu Tingjun smiled: "Don't worry! I won't tell Ninth Master!"

Didn't she know this all too well!

Fu Tingjun thought of the first time she had seen Zhao Jiuye, when he was gathering food in the kitchen, and couldn't help but sit up straight, asking A Sen in a low voice: "What did you eat for lunch?"

First Zuo Junjie, like a madman, claimed to have an illicit affair with her; then the elders of the family, without even asking her, locked her up in Biyun Nunnery; then Bibo went missing, her mother was detained, she was force-fed medicine, her uncle's concubine hanged herself, Zuo Junjie disappeared... How could the warm and joyful Fu family have turned into hell overnight?

"If I just go to Weinan like this, then what am I?" She held back her tears with all her might, "A shameless woman who committed suicide out of guilt because her affair with Zuo Junjie was exposed..." The word 'slut' simply wouldn't come out of her mouth. She bit her lip and continued, "So I'd be disposed of secretly, like a rat in a sewer! I'm not afraid of death. Things have come to this—I might as well die. But even if I die, I want to die with dignity and innocence. I can't let Zuo Junjie's filthy words keep being splashed on me..."

She smiled and waved at him: "Didn't you say you were going to brew medicine for me? Why are you back?"

Zhao Jiuye couldn't help but frown: "Since your mother has arranged for you to go to Weinan, she must have a complete plan in place. Why disappoint your mother's good intentions? Why don't I go ahead first, and if anything comes up, your uncle and aunt can help mediate for you—wouldn't that be better? It's certainly better than this state of being suspended between heaven and earth."

The two of them, as if by unspoken agreement, turned to look toward the sound.

Earlier, when she had heard his arrangements, she had assumed A Sen was a burly, strong man. She hadn't expected that A Sen was someone he had picked up.

Fu Tingjun looked up and saw A Sen hiding beside the statue of Sakyamuni.

A commotion came from outside, with voices of farewell rising and falling in pitch.

Go to Weinan?

The thought flashed by, and then she thought of the journey at dusk.

Leave?

Should she return to Huayin or go to Weinan?

"Did Ninth Master tell you that?" She held the bowl, smiling at him, not in a hurry to eat.

What was there in all this that she didn't know?

"Mm!" A Sen nodded. "Ninth Master also let me take his surname. My name is Zhao Sen." As he said this, he puffed out his chest, looking very proud.

The rice was soft, sticky, with a sweet fragrance lingering in the mouth.

Her mind was in a jumble.

Zhao Jiuye looked at her with some surprise, his expression gradually turning solemn: "You want to go back and confront Zuo Junjie?"

She couldn't think it through!

Things hadn't needed to come to this point.

"How could this happen?" Fu Tingjun looked at Zhao Jiuye with shock written all over her face.

At this thought, Fu Tingjun's eyes reddened.

"I'm not going to Weinan!" Fu Tingjun stared at him stubbornly with her big eyes. "I can't just go to Weinan like this!"

A Sen stood there awkwardly, caught between advancing and retreating.

Sacrificing her wasn't enough—they had to drag in one of her uncle's concubines as well!

"Ninth Master!" A childish voice called out timidly to Zhao Jiuye. "I, I've cooked some congee for the young lady..."

A Sen walked over.

"Call..." The words just came out, but A Sen immediately realized he had slipped up and quickly covered his mouth. Seeing Fu Tingjun looking at him with a smile, beautiful as a flower, he felt a little reluctant to be harsh. He hemmed and hawed for a long time, then pulled an egg from his bosom and tossed it to Fu Tingjun. "Ninth Master told me to boil this for you. I still need to brew your medicine!" Then, as if fleeing, he ran off in a puff of dust.

Her body, which had just begun to recover, couldn't withstand Fu Tingjun's intense emotions.

"I'm not afraid of that!" A Sen pouted and retorted. "Ninth Master told me to keep a quiet eye on you. He said it was to keep you from doing something foolish out of despair!"

The little boy carefully handed the congee to Fu Tingjun: "Young lady, I fanned it, so it's not hot at all."

"Bring it in!" Zhao Jiuye instructed the child, then turned to Fu Tingjun and said, "Whatever you want to do, you need to recover your strength first—eat your meal and rest for a while, and we'll leave at dusk."

"Some things, if you can't figure them out, don't bother thinking about them," he couldn't help but advise her. "Take a rest and think again later—maybe it will suddenly become clear!"

A Sen avoided Fu Tingjun's gaze and patted his stomach, saying, "I've eaten my fill! If you don't believe me, feel my belly."

Perhaps because she hadn't eaten in some time, although the porridge was delicious, she felt full after just a few sips. She wanted to take the bowl to the kitchen, but thinking that Zhao Jiuye still had many companions, she dismissed the idea. She picked up the egg and rubbed it in her hands for a while before cracking open the shell.

Fu Tingjun was somewhat surprised.

Fu Tingjun smiled and said, "Then what is your Ninth Master's name?"

It was like a torn-up picture—no matter how you tried to piece it together, a crucial piece was always missing, making it impossible to see the true form of the painting.