Chapter 2

Fu Tingjun was awakened by the heat.

The moment she opened her eyes, she saw four or five toads crouching beside her face, their snow-white bellies pulsing... She let out a sharp scream and scrambled to her feet.

Startled, the toads hopped away into the grass with soft thuds.

Fu Tingjun let out a long breath, feeling a burning pain in her throat, her head heavy and her vision blurry.

She... wasn't she dead? How could she still feel things?

Fu Tingjun was stunned, hastily looking around.

Above her hung the glaring sun, too bright to look at directly. Locust tree branches stretched over the wall, lush and verdant, casting a patch of shade on the tall, sturdy wall. Beyond the grassy slope overgrown with weeds and brambles lay a dense thicket of mixed trees.

This place... was the back courtyard of Biyun Nunnery!

How did she end up here?

Could it be that she was still alive?

The thought flashed through her mind as Fu Tingjun pinched her arm hard.

It hurt, and left a red mark.

She took a few more steps.

Her shadow moved with her.

Her wet nurse had said that ghosts had no physical bodies—once exposed to the sun, they would scatter into nothing.

Fu Tingjun reached out her hand.

In the sunlight, her hand was so pale it seemed almost translucent, her pink nails shimmering with a pearl-like luster.

She squinted at the blazing white sun, weeping tears of joy!

Still alive... she was truly still alive...

But the joy of surviving barely lasted a moment before it was shattered by the pain in her neck.

The dim, deserted kitchen, the thick and powerful hands, the calm and indifferent gaze, the helplessness and despair of dying... The scene before she lost consciousness surfaced in her mind!

She quickly wiped away her tears, pricking up her ears with terror and vigilance as she surveyed her surroundings.

The back courtyard was silent, with no one in sight. A swarm of buzzing insects circled over the brambles not far away, and a discarded bamboo hat lay lonely under the old locust tree... As if nothing had happened at all—if she just tucked her skirt into her sash and climbed the tree, she could peek over the wall to see what lay beyond!

But Fu Tingjun's heart quailed; she no longer had the courage she'd had before!

Had that person left?

Would he suddenly appear again?

If he saw that she was still alive, would he strike again?

At that thought, her hair stood on end. She grabbed the bamboo hat and fled toward the east...

...

The place where Fu Tingjun took refuge was called Jingyue Hall, located at the northeast corner of the main hall of Biyun Nunnery—the Great Buddha Hall. It was a two-courtyard residence with its own gate, surrounded by silver-edged weeping willows. It was usually left empty, only opened when the women of the Fu family came to the nunnery to burn incense or stay for a while.

She didn't go through the main gate but took a detour to the eastern passageway.

The eastern chamber had a window facing east. Because the building's foundation was quite high, Fu Tingjun had to stand on her tiptoes just to barely reach the window frame covered with white Korean paper.

She tapped lightly twice, and the tightly shut window immediately opened.

"Ninth Miss," the maid Lü'e poked her head out, her face full of surprise, "you're finally back!" As she spoke, she handed out a small stool. "Nanny Chen came by just now and brought some watermelon chilled in well water, saying it was to cool you down." She grabbed Fu Tingjun's arm and helped her climb in through the window. "If Sister Hanyan hadn't managed to hold her off with words, she would have barged right in... I was scared half to death!" She looked on the verge of tears. "If you hadn't come back soon, I would have had to go looking for you!"

Fu Tingjun's head felt heavy, her body as if weighted down with lead—she had only made it back through sheer will to survive. Now that she had safely returned to her quarters, hearing familiar voices and seeing familiar faces, the taut string of her nerves relaxed, and her whole body went weak. Even standing was an effort; she only wanted to lie down on the bed at once, too exhausted to say a word. But hearing that Nanny Chen had come, she had to muster her spirits to respond: "How is Hanyan doing?"

Her voice was low, hoarse, and dry—a far cry from her usual crisp and pleasant tone.

"Ninth Miss!" Lü'e stared at Fu Tingjun in shock, only now noticing the ring of purple-red marks around Fu Tingjun's neck, stark against her snow-white skin, hideous and terrifying. "You... what happened to you?" Looking more closely, she saw that Fu Tingjun's face was flushed red from the sun, her neatly combed hair now in disarray, a few strands plastered to her temples with sweat, her moon-white sleeves dirty and rumpled, and her fine indigo cotton skirt torn with a large gash, revealing the moon-white Lake silk trousers beneath.

Fu Tingjun knew well how disheveled she must look, but this was not the time for explanations. Ignoring her filthy state, she collapsed onto the bed: "We'll talk later!"

Lü'e snapped back to her senses. She stepped forward to help her remove her shoes while answering her earlier question: "Sister Hanyan, following your instructions, sat in the main hall with Nanny Fan and the others, cooling off and chatting. The nannies were deep in lively conversation and never once moved from where they sat. No one sent me on any errands. When Nanny Chen arrived, that Nanny Fan even helped us say a few good words!"

Fu Tingjun gave a soft "Mm" and instructed Lü'e: "Go fetch some water. I need to wash up!"

She couldn't let anyone see her in her current state!

Lü'e hesitated: "Fetching water might alert Nanny Chen..."

"I've already returned." Fu Tingjun was somewhat irritated, and with effort, enduring the pain in her throat, she said, "Just let down the bed curtains. As long as they can't see what I look like, that's all that matters! Would she dare to lift my curtains?"

Lü'e thought about it.

That was true!

No matter what, Ninth Miss was the mistress. Even if they were people sent by First Madame, they couldn't disregard the distinction between master and servant.

She said "Oh" and nimbly let down the bed curtains before leaving the room.

The room was quiet. Gone was the blazing sun, gone were the shimmering waves of heat. The pillow carried the coolness of porcelain, and the summer mat gave off the fragrance of green bamboo. Fu Tingjun let out a long, comfortable breath, not wanting to move even her little finger.

But her injured throat gave her no respite—a burning, searing pain.

His gaunt face, his sharp eyes, his cold gaze appeared unbidden in her mind.

It felt as though a chill wind had blown into the room.

The walls of Biyun Nunnery were tall and thick, yet he had traversed them as if on flat ground. In broad daylight, he had climbed over the wall and entered the courtyard, nearly strangling her to death. Clearly, Biyun Nunnery was not as safe as she had once believed!

The thought flashed through her mind, and Fu Tingjun shivered uneasily.

The sound of messy footsteps gradually drew nearer and stopped at the doorway.

"Thank you, both nannies!" Hanyan's soft, sweet voice drifted in. "Just leave the water here—our young lady hasn't been sleeping well these past days, and her mood has been a bit irritable..."

"I know, I know!" Nanny Fan's loud voice, even lowered, was still quite resonant. She spoke in a knowing tone: "Ninth Miss has been wronged these past days, so naturally she takes it out on you. Just bear with it—that's how it's always been for us servants." She added, "Well then, we'll be on our way. We should go report to Nanny Chen—she instructed that the moment Ninth Miss wakes, we're to let her know."

Hanyan politely saw Nanny Fan off: "Nanny, walk slowly!"

But Fu Tingjun found it strange.

When had Nanny Fan and Hanyan become so close?

The two maidservants carried in the water, panting from exertion.

Hanyan immediately rushed to the bedside.

"Ninth Miss!" She lifted the bed curtains, overjoyed. "You're back!" Then, just like Lü'e, she froze in place.

"Clean me up first, then we'll talk!" Fu Tingjun struggled to sit up.

Hanyan also knew that the most urgent matter now was to keep anyone from noticing that Fu Tingjun had ever left.

Somewhat flustered, she helped Fu Tingjun up, and together with Lü'e, they helped her undress, let down her hair, and assisted her into the pinewood bathing tub, then washed her hair.

Fu Tingjun closed her eyes in comfort, but her heart churned like boiling water.

That despicable, shameless Zuo Junjie—if not for his wild talk, how could she have fallen into such a situation!

At the thought, she gnashed her teeth, wishing she could curse him to vent her anger.

This all began with her eldest sister-in-law, née Zuo.

The eldest sister-in-law had married into the Fu family holding the memorial tablet of Fu Tingjun's eldest cousin. For twenty years, she had been filial to her parents-in-law, harmonious with her sisters-in-law, loving to her younger sisters-in-law, and diligent in raising the adopted heir. She was virtuous and kind, praised by all. Not just the Fu family—even people throughout Huayin County spoke of this eldest young mistress with the utmost respect, never daring the slightest impertinence in their words. So when her youngest brother, Zuo Junjie, came to seek refuge with her after their parents died, although the Fu family's six branches all lived together in cramped quarters, the eldest uncle still cleared a three-room compound facing south in the southeast corner of the outer courtyard for Zuo Junjie to live in. He was given a monthly allowance and writing supplies just like the eldest sister-in-law's adopted son, provided with clothing for all four seasons, and allowed to attend the Fu family school, studying reading and calligraphy under Fifth Granduncle.

Zuo Junjie lived up to his name. At seventeen, he passed the county examination to become a licentiate, and at twenty-three, he passed the provincial examination to become a provincial graduate.

Such achievements were unremarkable in the literati-flourishing Jiangnan region, but in the northwest, which relied on the separate quota system for the southern and northern provinces, they were as rare as phoenix feathers and unicorn horns—highly conspicuous.

At this point, in the eyes of outsiders, the Fu family had nurtured a talent like Zuo Junjie and earned a reputation for generosity and appreciation of talent. They should have taken pride in him. And Zuo Junjie, with the Fu family's support, had secured a brilliant future and restored the Zuo family's prestige—he should have been overflowing with gratitude toward the Fu family. But in reality, that was not the case at all.

The Fu family was the most renowned clan in Huayin, known for the strict propriety of its women's quarters. From the moment Zuo Junjie sought refuge with the Fu family, he had harbored the desire to marry a daughter of the Fu family.

A marriage that would strengthen family ties and bring support from his wife's clan was naturally something the eldest cousin's wife would welcome. However, daughters of the Fu family were never short of suitors. Although Zuo Junjie was tall and handsome, he was a commoner with no rank, possessing nothing of value and relying on the Fu family's charity to get by—how could anyone broach the subject of marriage?

Yet once this thought took root, it could not be suppressed. She secretly harbored some hope and therefore never arranged a match for Zuo Junjie.

It was not until Zuo Junjie passed the imperial examination at the county level that the eldest cousin's wife, taking advantage of Grandmother's birthday celebration, half-jokingly and half-seriously hinted at her intentions.

What kind of person was Grandmother? Having managed the Fu household's affairs for decades, how could she fail to discern the meaning behind her eldest grandson's wife's words?

It was just that Zuo Junjie's family background was truly too meager.

If it had been anyone else, this matter would have been brushed aside with a few pleasantries and polite platitudes. But since it was the eldest cousin's wife who had spoken, Grandmother felt she should at least honor her with a response. She summoned the eldest aunt to discuss the matter, intending to betroth the second cousin, a concubine-born daughter of the eldest branch, to Zuo Junjie.

The second cousin was of similar age to Zuo Junjie. Though born of a concubine, she had been raised under the First Madame's care since childhood, learning to read and write, mastering needlework, and managing household accounts just like the eldest cousin.

The eldest aunt hesitated.

Hao Jianfeng, the Provincial Administration Vice Commissioner of Shaanxi, had recently lost his wife to illness and had no children. Some sycophants, eager to play matchmaker, sent word to the eldest aunt that Hao Jianfeng was about to be promoted to Provincial Administration Commissioner of Shandong, and suggested this match for the second cousin.

Though marrying him would mean becoming a second wife, and Hao Jianfeng was over twenty years older than the second cousin, he was a jinshi graduate of the highest imperial examinations, soon to reach the third rank in officialdom, and had no heirs. Having such a son-in-law would be a good thing for the Fu family, which had not produced a high-ranking provincial official for several generations.

The eldest aunt was very tempted to agree. But at the time, the eldest uncle was serving as Director of the Waterways Division in the Ministry of Works, overseeing rivers, ponds, bridges, roads, vehicles, ships, weaving, contracts, and weights and measures. He was highly regarded by Minister Qu Yang of the Ministry of Works, and word had it he would soon be promoted to Left Vice Minister of Works. Mindful of her reputation, the eldest aunt had not given the other party a definitive answer.