Chapter 8: Riverside Immortal (Part 2)
Ni Su had never felt so wretched. Taking shelter in a dilapidated temple, huddled on a pile of dry grass, she endured the long night with a pillow of withered straw.
The lone white candle on the floor flickered. Ni Su stared at it, recalling the ghost stories she had read, almost all of which depicted spirits consuming incense and absorbing vital energy.
But he wasn’t like that.
She shifted, the dry grass rustling beneath her. She saw the man outside, now sitting on the steps, his back straight and solitary, his figure flickering, as if about to merge with the mountain mist.
Unconsciously, Ni Su drifted into a light sleep, or perhaps she merely closed her eyes for a moment. As the sky turned the pale color of fish belly and the first rays of dawn touched her eyelids, she woke with a start.
The morning mist was thin and damp. Ni Su stepped out of the temple and looked around, but the man who had been sitting on the steps was gone. A cool breeze brushed against her face. She heard the sound of a horse exhaling and immediately went to unharness the animal.
Nanny Qian had packed Ni Su’s belongings in the carriage: her jewelry, clothes, books, and ink. But it was inconvenient to carry them now.
Ni Zong wouldn’t give up easily, so Ni Su decided against hiring another coachman. It was better to travel light and hide these things for now.
She took only the essential medical books, the banknotes Cen Shi had given her, and a set of golden needles.
There were places in Que County where one could ride horses. Ni Su had been there with Ni Qinglan, but she had only watched him and his scholar friends ride; she had never ridden herself.
She remembered how her brother effortlessly mounted the horse, but now, as she tried to imitate him, the horse wouldn’t cooperate, its tail swishing and its hooves stamping impatiently.
Ni Su struggled, sweat beading on her temples. A rustling sound came from the trees. Suddenly, she felt a supporting force, effortlessly lifting her onto the horse’s back.
The golden rays of the rising sun illuminated the pale young man standing beside her. Noticing her gaze, he raised his eyes, clearer than the night before, his long fingers taking the reins. His hand gently stroked the horse’s mane. “Horses are spiritual creatures. To control them, you must connect with them.”
Ni Su remained silent as he calmed the horse and led it forward. The horse, seemingly less agitated, obediently followed him.
Watching him stroke the horse’s mane, Ni Su sensed something different about him, as if this was a motion he had repeated countless times.
He led the horse to a patch of lush grass. Seeing the horse eagerly lower its head to graze, Ni Su realized she hadn’t fed it since last night.
She took the reins he offered. “Thank you.”
In the early morning, villagers often went up the mountain to gather firewood. As Ni Su slowly rode along the path, she encountered an old man and, after asking for directions, realized she had indeed taken the wrong path.
On the way to Qiao Zhen, Ni Su gradually got the hang of riding. Although she didn’t dare to go too fast, she wasn’t too slow either. She didn’t linger in Qiao Zhen, buying only some dry rations before continuing her journey.
The recent loss of her mother weighed heavily on Ni Su’s heart, and the news of her brother’s possible soul loss made it difficult to breathe. She wished she could travel day and night to reach Yun Jing quickly.
But night travel was dangerous. As Ni Su sat by a stream, eating dry, hard biscuits, a peasant woman returning from gathering firewood took her home.
“You’ve come at a good time, Miss. The daughter-in-law next door is giving birth. There might be a feast tonight,” the woman said, offering Ni Su a bowl of water. There was no tea in her humble home.
Ni Su thanked her and gave all her malt candy to the woman’s young daughter. The girl, who was losing her baby teeth, smiled brightly at Ni Su, revealing a gap-toothed grin.
“Chang Sheng? Chang Sheng…” A frail old woman emerged from the house, her cloudy eyes unfocused, calling out a name repeatedly.
The peasant woman quickly put down her work and gently coaxed the old woman back into the house. After a while, she returned.
“My husband was swept away by the river last year while repairing the embankment. My mother-in-law was deeply affected and often forgets that he’s gone.” The woman smiled sadly, sharing her family’s misfortune.
Seeing Ni Su’s hesitant expression, the woman continued her embroidery as she spoke. “Fortunately, Minister Meng was still an official here last year, so the government’s compensation wasn’t embezzled by those heartless officials. Otherwise, I would have had to remarry to get betrothal money for my mother-in-law’s living expenses.”
Ni Su had heard of Minister Meng.
Meng Yun Xian had a military background but later became a civil official, rising to prominence in the scholar-ruled Great Qi. He had served as Vice Minister, implementing new policies, but fourteen years ago, the new policies were abolished, and Meng Yun Xian was demoted and sent to a small county.
“Sister Jiang, is Minister Meng no longer in Wen County this year?” Ni Su asked, holding the bowl.
“He left a few months ago. I heard the Emperor changed his mind and summoned Minister Meng back to Yun Jing. It seems he’s going to be officially appointed as Minister this time,” Jiang said. She occasionally worked as a dishwasher in the restaurants and teahouses in Wen County and had heard these things from the gossip there.
The sun was scorching, but a cool breeze blew beneath the shade of a lush green tree. Sunlight filtered through the leaves, dappling Xu He Xue’s shoulders.
The words “Minister Meng” reached his ears, and he opened his eyes.
The chirping of cicadas was close and incessant.
“Zhang Chong Zhi, he is your student. You should understand his character better than I do. Even if you make him kneel here until he dies, it won’t change his mind! A fledgling bird has grown its wings and wants to defy the current. Even as a teacher, how can you stop it?”
A summer evening, by Yong’an Lake in Yun Jing, in the Xie Chun Pavilion. A fourteen-year-old boy knelt on the steps, looking up at the sound of the argument. The waves lapped against the shore as two scholars in wide robes argued fiercely, their backs silhouetted against the setting sun.
The noise from beneath the tree brought Xu He Xue back to his senses. He opened his eyes and saw the young woman who had been sitting at the table hurriedly put down her bowl and run after Jiang to the house across the street.
Ni Su didn’t get to eat the feast. The daughter-in-law next door was having a difficult labor. Hearing the concerned murmurs of the neighbors gathered at the door, Ni Su followed Jiang over.
Hearing the midwife inside exclaim, “This is bad!”, the woman’s husband panicked and was about to fetch a physician, but his mother stopped him. “Son, how can you let those male physicians examine your wife?”
“But Yue Niang…” The man, stopped by his mother, was sweating profusely. “What about Yue Niang? What about my son?”
“I’ll go take a look.” Ni Su, tired of their family drama, rolled up her sleeves and, after a quick handwashing, entered the room.
Everyone exchanged puzzled glances, unable to recall who the young woman was.
“Lady Jiang, who is that girl?” someone asked, seeing that she had come with Jiang.
“Well…” Jiang rubbed her temples. She had just met the girl on the road and hadn’t had time to ask about her family. “Her surname is Ni. She’s just passing through.”
A woman who had gone inside ran out. “She seems to be a medicine woman!”
What? A medicine woman?
Everyone looked at each other in surprise. Jiang, her face also registering astonishment, said, “How can a medicine woman be so young? She looks only fifteen or sixteen.”
Her demeanor wasn’t that of a common peasant girl, but rather a lady of some standing, though fallen on hard times. But what young lady would work as a medicine woman?
As the sky darkened, the people outside waited anxiously. Finally, they heard the cry of a baby. The tension in the husband’s shoulders eased, and he stared at the door.
The midwife emerged, carefully cradling a baby in her arms. She glanced at the old woman, then smiled at the man. “Sun Da Lang, it’s a girl.”
The man seemed unfazed, carefully taking the baby to look at her, but the old woman’s face fell. She slammed her cane on the ground and glared at the door. “What good is a girl!”
The neighbors, trying to avoid the awkwardness, pretended not to hear. The old woman’s voice was loud, and the young woman inside, who had just escaped death, heard it. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her pale lips trembled. “Thank you, Miss, for saving my life.”
“Rest well.”
There was no clean water left in the house. Ni Su’s hands and clothes were stained with blood. She glanced at the woman on the bed and walked out. Hearing the old woman still grumbling about the baby girl in her son’s arms, she said, “Aren’t you a woman yourself, Madam?”
The old woman glared at her, initially startled by the blood on her hands, then scrutinized her. The young woman had delicate features, her clothes were of fine material, and her hair was styled in three looped buns. Although she wore no ornaments, it only accentuated her clean and refined appearance.
“Oh, Miss Ni, come back to my house and wash up!” Jiang, knowing the old woman’s temperament and seeing her darkening expression, quickly led Ni Su through the crowd.
“Such a young girl working as a medicine woman…” the old woman muttered, glaring at Ni Su’s retreating figure.
“Mother, she saved Yue Niang and your granddaughter’s lives! Stop it!” the man said, holding his daughter and sighing helplessly.
“Miss, quickly wash your hands and change your clothes. It’s fine if you can’t eat at their house. I’ll cook for you!” Jiang led Ni Su back to her courtyard and ushered her into a side room.
Ni Su had assisted with childbirth many times before and knew the unspoken rule that medicine women weren’t invited to feasts after a delivery.
She didn’t mind. Entering the room, she washed her hands. Just as she was about to undress, she stopped abruptly and looked around, calling out tentatively, “Are you… there?”
Jiang’s daughter, playing with pebbles in the courtyard, suddenly heard a rustling sound. She looked up and saw the branches of the large tree in their courtyard swaying. Wisps of smoke drifted from beneath the tree, disappearing into the lantern light.
Hearing no response from inside the room, Ni Su felt slightly relieved. As she untied her sash, a wooden stool clattered to the floor.
Startled, she peered through the simple screen and saw a figure standing by the table. His movements were strange, and his eyes seemed unusual.
Ni Su quickly retied her sash and approached with the lamp. As she suspected, his eyes were vacant and lifeless. She waved her hand in front of his face, and his shadow moved, but his eyes remained unfocused, unresponsive.
“Your eyes…” Ni Su was astonished.
He had been able to see clearly during the day. But then she remembered that he had been like this outside the carriage the night they encountered the bandits. It dawned on her. “Could it be… night blindness?”
But could ghosts suffer from night blindness?
Xu He Xue didn’t answer. As he raised his hand, a breeze extinguished the candle in Ni Su’s hand, plunging the room into near darkness. Only the light from the lantern outside filtered through the window.
Xu He Xue stood motionless in the deep shadows. Smelling the smoke from the extinguished wick, he said, “Light it.”
Although confused, Ni Su retrieved a flint and steel from her bag and relit the candle, placing it on the table. As she looked up, she met his gaze.
His eyes, clear and cold, reflected the faint light.
“You…” Ni Su stared at him in astonishment, then at the candle, and then at her own hands.
She finally understood.
Only when she lit the candle could he see at night.
“Are all ghosts like this?” Ni Su found it bizarre.
“My eyes were injured before I died. I cannot see at night unless you light a lamp,” Xu He Xue said calmly.
His spirit was damaged. Unless he returned to Youdu, he couldn’t see at night without the summoner personally lighting a lamp.
Ni Su was stunned. After a while, she suddenly blew out the candle.
Without warning, Xu He Xue’s world was plunged into darkness again.
“I’ll light it for you in a moment,” Ni Su said, walking back behind the screen.
Xu He Xue heard the rustling of her clothes and seemed to understand what she was doing. He lowered his long eyelashes and turned away.
“You didn’t have to endure such criticism.”
Just as Ni Su removed her bloodstained clothes, she heard his voice from beyond the screen. Understanding what he was referring to, she turned and, through the gap in the screen, saw him standing in the shadows, like a frost-covered pine branch.
“This isn’t the first time I’ve heard such words. But the women I’ve saved have never looked down on me. They see me as their lifeline, and I’m happy to be their lifeline. As for what others say, I can’t control their mouths. I only strive to act righteously and have a clear conscience.”
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