Category: Summoning the Soul

Chapter 10: Riverside Immortal (Part 4)

With her mother’s dying words weighing on her mind, Ni Su both longed to dream of her and feared it. Unable to sleep through the latter half of the night, she packed her belongings, left a few pieces of silver and a note under the candlestick, picked up a lantern, and quietly led the horse away from Jiang’s house.

The night road was difficult. Ni Su rode slowly, the spirit silently by her side, accompanying her through the faint night mist.

As she rode, the sleep she had lost earlier returned, her eyelids growing heavy. She forced herself to stay awake, shaking her head, then couldn’t resist glancing at him.

He looked very young, and the way he carried himself was graceful.

“How old were you… then?”

Xu He Xue’s half-closed eyes opened slightly at her sudden question. Understanding what she meant by “then,” he lifted the lantern and replied, “Nineteen.”

Ni Su was surprised. “Nineteen, and you…” She trailed off.

“What was the reason?” Ni Su couldn’t imagine why he, at the prime of his life, had died so young and now wandered Youdu.

Xu He Xue considered her question, but in the end, he shook his head. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know how you died?”

“No.” The lantern light illuminated Xu He Xue’s clothes and shoes. He stared at them, then, hearing the rushing sound of a river, looked up. The mountains were dark, the water shimmering. “I don’t know why I died.”

Ni Su didn’t understand. After a moment, she said, “Not even halfway through your life… you must have many regrets.”

“Too much time has passed. I’ve forgotten many things.” Shrouded in mist, Xu He Xue’s face seemed even paler. “I only remember one thing now.”

“Is it the old friend you’re looking for in Yun Jing?” Ni Su glanced at his cloak.

Xu He Xue met her gaze but didn’t answer.

“As we agreed, you’ll help me find my brother,” Ni Su said, holding the reins and stroking the horse’s mane as she heard it exhale. “And I’ll help you find your old friend, to fulfill your regret, if I can.”

The distant mountains shimmered with a faint, white light. Xu He Xue silently observed the young woman on horseback, then looked away. “You don’t need to do anything for me. Just keep the lamp lit for me.”

The flame in the lantern flickered and died. The sky grew darker. The river, hidden among the green trees, was quiet. An old man leading an ox slowly crossed the stone bridge, pushing back his straw hat and squinting at the approaching figure on horseback.

The horse’s hooves clopped softly. The young woman on its back nodded drowsily, swaying from side to side. The old man watched as the horse suddenly turned towards a grassy ditch. The dozing woman, caught off guard, swayed and almost fell.

The old man opened his mouth to shout, but the woman’s falling body seemed to be caught by something.

He rubbed his eyes, thinking he had imagined it. The woman sat up straight, blinking in confusion.

“Strange…” the old man muttered, crossing the bridge and leading his ox towards the riverbank.

Ni Su felt her hands empty and looked down. The hand holding the reins was pale and slender, its bones delicate and graceful.

There was someone behind her, but she couldn’t feel his breath. His embrace was cold, as cold as snow, as if freezing away her drowsiness.

He seemed to sense her awareness and pulled away slightly. “If you’re tired, sleep.”

Ni Su didn’t turn around. Looking at her bag, now hanging around the horse’s neck, she murmured in agreement. The lingering drowsiness weighed down her eyelids, and as the carriage swayed, she felt a sense of peace despite her dozing state.

It was the height of summer. Even though the sun had set and darkness had fallen, Qingzhou City was still sweltering. The innkeeper at the Song Yuan Inn sat behind the counter, clicking his abacus and wiping the sweat from his forehead.

Servants bustled around, lighting lanterns in the main hall. The innkeeper noticed a shadow on the counter and looked up to see a dust-covered young woman.

“Miss, are you looking for a room?” he asked with a smile.

“Two rooms,” Ni Su said, placing money on the counter.

Two rooms?

The innkeeper craned his neck, looking behind her, but saw no one else. “You seem to be alone, Miss.”

Ni Su, realizing she had almost forgotten that others couldn’t see Xu Zi Ling, stammered, “I’m waiting for a friend. He’ll arrive later.”

The innkeeper nodded. “Don’t worry, Miss. We have someone on duty in the hall all night. If your friend knocks, we’ll let him in.”

“Thank you.” Ni Su followed a servant upstairs.

After ordering a simple meal, Ni Su placed her bag on the bed, turned around, extinguished the candle in the room, and then relit it. She lit five candles in total and saw the figure become more solid in the light.

“If I light more candles, will you be visible to others for longer?” Ni Su asked, sitting down at the table and pouring herself a cup of tea.

Xu He Xue glanced at the candles on the table and nodded slightly. “These are enough to sustain me for some time.”

He wasn’t incapable of appearing, but the more candles the summoner lit for him, the more solid his form became, until he was indistinguishable from an ordinary person.

“Then when you go to see your old friend, I’ll light a whole room of candles for you,” Ni Su said, resting her chin on her hand.

Xu He Xue looked up at her, then said, “You don’t actually need another room.”

“You’re a gentleman and wouldn’t share a room with me. If I don’t get another room, where will you stay tonight? Will you find another tree outside?”

Seeing him fall silent again, Ni Su put down her teacup. “Xu Zi Ling, you’re so modest and polite even as a ghost. How can I not treat you with courtesy? All the clues about my brother lie with you. Please don’t refuse.”

She said this only to make it easier for Xu He Xue to accept her kindness.

He was so polite and proper; he must have been someone of standing in life. As a lone spirit wandering the mortal realm, wouldn’t he be even more lost without shelter?

After all, he was once a living person.

“Thank you,” Xu He Xue said after a while, lowering his eyes.

Having traveled all day, Ni Su was exhausted. Thankfully, the inn provided hot water, so she finally bathed and changed into clean clothes, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

In the quiet of the night, the servant on duty in the hall fought off sleep. For a moment, he thought he saw a flicker of light upstairs. He immediately opened his eyes and looked up. The room that hadn’t been occupied was brightly lit, but there was no sound from above.

The bored servant recalled lighting several candles in that room for the young woman. Her friend hadn’t arrived yet, so he wondered why she had lit so many candles in an empty room.

A strange feeling settled upon him. He yawned, hoping the night would pass quickly so he could go back to sleep.

Upstairs, the lantern swayed in the breeze. A faint mist seeped through the half-open door, solidifying into the form of a young man in the candlelight.

Xu He Xue silently observed the simple furnishings of the room. After a while, he sat down on the edge of the bed, remaining there quietly until he frowned slightly.

He rolled up his left sleeve. The warm light revealed his pale arm. As he watched, the unblemished skin cracked, forming a network of bloody cuts and scars, like wounds from swords and knives.

Crimson blood trickled down his wrist, turning into shimmering dust upon contact with the floor, floating and dissipating.

Xu He Xue lowered his sleeve and touched the soft bedding. Tentatively, he lay down, just as he had many years ago, when he was still alive.

Shimmering dust swirled around him, then vanished.

He closed his eyes.

He heard the rustling of pine trees outside the window, the chirping of birds, and… a knocking at the door.

Xu He Xue’s eyes snapped open.

He got up, went to the door, and opened it. A sleepy young woman stood outside, her long, dark hair loose around her shoulders, a few strands clinging to her cheeks. Hearing the door open, she opened her eyes wider and looked at him.

“What’s wrong?” Xu He Xue asked.

“I forgot to ask, do you want to bathe?” Ni Su stifled a yawn, tears welling up in her eyes.

After a long day’s journey, he looked impeccably clean. He must be very particular about hygiene.

Xu He Xue was taken aback, surprised by her question.

“I…” he considered his words, “don’t need water.”

“Don’t need water? Then what do you use?” Ni Su’s sleepiness faded, replaced by curiosity.

Downstairs in the main hall, the servant was fast asleep, snoring loudly.

Ni Su quietly went downstairs and into the inn’s backyard.

The full moon was partially hidden behind the eaves, but its silver light illuminated the courtyard. Ni Su saw Xu He Xue standing there, not wearing his cloak, his robes as white as snow.

Observed by the young woman in the corridor, a flicker of unease crossed Xu He Xue’s cold eyes. He moved his fingers slightly, and Ni Su felt the moonlight in the courtyard become even more dreamlike.

As it shone on him, shimmering particles floated from his robes, faint and translucent, even fainter than his shadow on the ground.

Ni Su couldn’t describe what she was seeing.

She almost thought she was dreaming.

Basking in the moonlight… was that all it took?

Ni Su stared in astonishment at the young man—no, he still had the appearance of a youth, refined and elegant.

Now, surrounded by shimmering dust, he seemed both distant and divine.

“You don’t look like a ghost at all,” Ni Su said, walking over to him and reaching out to touch the shimmering particles, her gaze fixed on him. She didn’t notice the slight tremor in his eyelashes as her finger brushed against a particle.

The fluffy, white light on the ground wagged its tail.

“I think…” Ni Su looked up at the night sky above the eaves, “you look like… stardust.”

Chapter 9: Riverside Immortal (Part 3)

The candle was relit in the room. Ni Su, now changed into clean clothes, ground ink at the desk, her shadow cast on the window screen. Jiang’s young daughter, A-Yun, washed vegetables in the courtyard. Having finished her malt candy, she hoped the kind sister would give her more, but she was too shy to ask, only glancing at the side room from time to time.

Tilting her head, she saw a fluffy, shimmering light floating beside the sister’s shadow on the window screen.

“Huh?” she exclaimed, abandoning the vegetables and running to the window, curiously reaching out towards the shimmering light.

The door creaked open.

The little girl looked up and saw the malt candy sister.

“A-Yun, can you take this to Uncle Sun next door for me?” Ni Su crouched down, her moon-white skirt pooling around her. She patted the girl’s head and handed her a prescription.

A-Yun nodded, clutching the thin piece of paper in her small hand, and ran out of the courtyard.

Ni Su sighed in relief, then, noticing the shimmering light on the window screen, turned around. “I thought ghosts didn’t have shadows.”

And his shadow was strange.

“Besides you, only children under seven or eight can see it.”

The eyes of young children were different from those of adults, able to perceive things that ordinary people couldn’t.

“What should we do then? Should I extinguish the candle when she returns?” Ni Su stood up, closed the door, and walked over.

Xu He Xue, without looking up, gave a slight nod.

He still wore the fur-trimmed cloak, unsuitable for summer. Pale and thin, his eyes were clear, his eyelashes thick. Faint shadows beneath his eyes gave him a quiet, desolate air.

Like someone chronically ill, neither earthly fire nor the scorching sun could melt the chill in his bones.

“Miss Ni, come and eat!” Jiang’s voice called out.

Ni Su replied and blew out the candle. In the dim light from the doorway, she could just make out his figure. “Xu Zi Ling, I’ll be quick.”

Xu He Xue remained motionless and silent in the shadows.

Ni Su went out. Jiang had already set the food on the table. A-Yun returned from next door, holding a bowl of pickled vegetables. “Where did you go? Why did you bring back pickled vegetables?” Jiang asked.

“I asked A-Yun to deliver a prescription for me. The baby was born, and Yue Niang needs medicine to recover,” Ni Su explained.

“At least they sent a bowl of pickled vegetables. That Sun Da Lang, unlike his mother, still has some conscience,” Jiang said, taking the pickled vegetables from A-Yun. She had made mushroom noodles, and the pickled vegetables would be a good addition.

Jiang invited Ni Su to sit and eat, then went back inside to feed her mother-in-law half a bowl of noodles before returning to join Ni Su and A-Yun.

“Don’t mind the simple fare, Miss Ni. We only have seasonal vegetables to offer,” Jiang said with a smile.

“Sister Jiang, your cooking is excellent,” Ni Su said as she ate.

They chatted for a while, then Jiang, after some hesitation, asked, “If you don’t mind me saying, Miss, you don’t seem like an ordinary person. And you’re so young. Why…”

She paused, then, seeing Ni Su look up at her, changed her tack. “Don’t mind me, Miss, but what you do is thankless work.”

Unless driven by hardship, few women would work as medicine women. It was a disreputable profession, inviting scorn and disapproval.

The medicine women Jiang had met were all old, their lives nearing their end.

Ni Su smiled. “At least Sister Jiang, you didn’t turn me away and even offered me a meal.”

“You saved Yue Niang and her daughter’s lives. How could I look down on you?” Jiang sighed. “When I gave birth to A-Yun, my father-in-law was still alive. He was just like Yue Niang’s mother-in-law, making snide remarks about me being useless. But my mother-in-law was different. Other women had to work in the fields the day after giving birth, but my mother-in-law took care of me for over a month. She told me that she almost died giving birth to my husband, Chang Sheng. Only women understand women’s suffering.”

“But I think, not all women understand women’s suffering.” Jiang pointed her chopsticks towards the house next door. “Look at Sun Da Lang’s mother. There are more people like her in this world.”

“Miss Ni, what you do will make it difficult for you to marry.”

This wasn’t meant as an offense, but a simple truth that Ni Su had long been aware of. Men who practiced medicine were respected physicians, while women who did the same were seen as lowly medicine women.

There were many more people like Old Mrs. Sun in this world than like Jiang.

“I set my aspirations when I was young. Why should they change because of marriage?” Ni Su put down her bowl and met Jiang’s complex gaze, her expression calm and confident. “I don’t believe saving lives is wrong. If my future husband thinks it’s wrong, then it’s not me who’s wrong, but him.”

Jiang had never met such a strange young woman. Marriage was the most important event in a woman’s life, but clearly, it wasn’t the most important thing for this young woman with her plain clothes and dark hair.

Staying in a peasant’s home, daily baths weren’t possible. Ni Su had to forgo her usual habits and slept in her clothes, the light from the lantern outside casting shadows on her eyelids through the screen.

Ni Su woke up before dawn. She got up and walked around the screen. A single candle flickered on the table, but the man was gone.

The lantern outside had been extinguished. Ni Su went out with the candle. The summer night was still, but the locust tree in the courtyard rustled softly. Shielding the candle flame with her hand, she walked towards the tree.

Ni Su looked up. The hem of his cloak hung down from the thick branches. He leaned against the trunk, and, as if sensing the light, opened his eyes, a rare look of confusion in them.

“Between humans and ghosts, must there be such a clear distinction between men and women?” Ni Su asked, looking up at him.

She had lit the candle for him, yet he preferred to sit in the dark in the tree. It seemed that even as a ghost, he was a gentleman.

She held the candle, and its light illuminated her face.

Xu He Xue looked down at her, silent.

“Xu Zi Ling.” At this moment, Ni Su suddenly felt a sense of closeness to him, perhaps because of his politeness and propriety, or perhaps because he was playing with a cicada he held in his hand.

She suddenly wanted to talk to him. “Did you know that the cicada’s shell can also be used in medicine?”

“No,” Xu He Xue replied, his fingers silencing the cicada’s chirping.

“It’s called Chan Tui. It can dispel wind-heat, clear the lungs and throat, and calm convulsions.” Ni Su spoke effortlessly, the candlelight flickering on her face. “Last year, in July and August, I went to the mountains with the herbalists to collect them. Freshly shed cicada shells are translucent in the sunlight, like amber. They’re beautiful.”

Xu He Xue, perched in the tree, looked at her for a moment. “Your mother was a good person. Now that her soul has returned to Youdu, she will surely find peace.”

He easily discerned the reason for her waking in the middle of the night, the source of her sadness, and why she was standing beneath the tree, making small talk with him.

Ni Su was silent for a moment, then lowered her eyes and asked, “Don’t people reincarnate immediately after death?”

“Youdu is perpetually shrouded in a thick fog that can cleanse soul fire and alter appearances. But these things take time.”

Half a year in Youdu was equivalent to one month in the mortal realm.

Time was a powerful tool of forgetting. The fog of Youdu could wash away a soul’s memories and gradually change its appearance. Once the time was up and the soul reincarnated, it would be a completely different person.

Ni Su had heard many stories and read many books, but none were as vivid and real as what this spirit from Youdu was telling her tonight.

Ni Su looked at the shimmering light floating on the ground. “But you seem to remember.”

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have made a pact with her to go to Yun Jing to find an old friend.

“Although I reside in Youdu, I don’t belong there,” Xu He Xue replied simply.

So the fog of Youdu couldn’t erase his memories or change his appearance.

Ni Su didn’t fully understand but knew better than to pry further. She stared at the flickering candle flame for a moment, then looked up. “Xu Zi Ling, why don’t we set off now?”

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.”

Chapter 7: Riverside Immortal (Part 1)

Perhaps it was the winter-like chill that emanated from him, but the blood flowing from the bodies at his feet seemed to shimmer with a faint, white mist in the moonlight.

The mountain was silent except for the incessant chirping of cicadas.

“Dead… are they all dead?”

Ni Su heard a terrified cry from behind her. She turned and saw the two servants huddled by the carriage door, trembling like leaves.

She turned back. Bodies lay scattered across the mountain path, but the figure who had been standing there moments ago had vanished.

A chill ran through her. Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to return to the carriage and retrieved some banknotes from her bag, dividing them between the two servants.

“M-Miss, who saved us?” one of the servants asked, his voice trembling as he held the money.

“I don’t know,” Ni Su said, her lips pressed together. After a moment, she added, “You came with me. If you return to the Ni family, Second Uncle won’t spare you. Take this money and leave.”

“But Miss, you…” The thinner servant hesitated, but his companion tugged at his sleeve, silencing him. Remembering the blade that had almost sliced his throat, fear gripped him again.

“Thank you, Miss! Thank you!” The dark-skinned servant, pushing his companion’s head down, kowtowed repeatedly, expressing their gratitude.

The encounter had terrified them. The journey to Yun Jing was long, and who knew what other dangers lay ahead? Ni Su knew she couldn’t keep them. She watched as they scrambled down from the carriage and ran into the dark wilderness, quickly disappearing from sight.

Sitting in the carriage, she could still smell the lingering scent of blood.

The carriage curtain had been slashed by the bandit. Moonlight spilled onto the floor. Staring at it, Ni Su tentatively called out, “Are you still there?”

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper.

A gentle breeze, unusual for a hot summer night, brushed against her face and stirred the hair around her ears. Her eyelashes fluttered, and her gaze shifted towards the window, obscured by the bamboo blind.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Holding her breath, she cautiously lifted the blind.

The faint moonlight illuminated her face. Ni Su saw him standing by the window, his figure translucent, almost transparent.

It seemed that if she touched him, he would vanish like mist, just as he had in the cypress grove at Da Zhong Temple.

Ni Su quickly lowered the blind. Sitting in the carriage, she clutched her skirt, her hands trembling. After a long silence, she finally found her voice. “You… have you been following me?”

A gentle breeze stirred, a silent answer.

Ni Su turned her head towards the bamboo blind. “Why are you following me?”

“Unless summoned, the deceased cannot enter the mortal realm.” His voice, cold and lifeless, came from outside the carriage.

Ni Su immediately remembered the winter clothes she had burned. Her lips trembled. “An old monk… he asked me for a favor.”

It dawned on her. She retrieved the beast bead from her sleeve.

“What’s in your hand?” The figure outside seemed to sense it.

Ni Su pursed her lips, hesitated, then extended her hand out the window.

The bamboo blind rattled against the window frame. The young man turned his head towards the sound, his features cold and clear. Tentatively, he reached out.

His icy fingers brushed against hers. A chill, like ice and snow, enveloped Ni Su. For a fleeting moment, the beast bead slipped from her fingers into his palm.

His eyes were vacant as his fingers traced the carvings on the bead. His eyelids flickered. “It’s him.”

“Who?” Ni Su caught the certainty in his voice.

“The Earth Lord of Youdu.”

Youdu? Earth Lord?

Ni Su had heard of Youdu, but the more common terms were Huangquan or Hell. Who was the Earth Lord?

And why had he orchestrated this, leading her to summon this spirit?

“If you don’t leave now, you might encounter officials.”

The beast bead was tossed back into the carriage, rolling to her feet. Ni Su, startled by his words, realized he was warning her that someone was coming.

She picked up the bead and clumsily grabbed the reins. The carriage lurched along the mountain path. Ni Su struggled to control it but didn’t dare stop, heading in one direction.

After a long while, still not seeing the walls of Qiao Zhen, Ni Su realized she had gone the wrong way. Fortunately, she found a dilapidated mountain god temple to take shelter in.

Lighting a candle inside the temple, Ni Su sat huddled on a pile of dry grass, tears streaming down her face.

She knew that Ni Zong’s desperation to capture her meant he had discovered the sale of the lands and estates and knew she had the money.

This could only mean one thing.

Mother was gone.

Her eyes red and swollen, Ni Su buried her face in her arms. Suddenly, she felt a cool breeze on her back. She shivered and instinctively straightened up.

She didn’t look towards the temple door behind her. After a long while, she spoke. “Why did you help me?” Her voice choked with unshed tears.

The faint candlelight illuminated Xu He Xue’s face. His eyelashes fluttered, and a flicker of light appeared in his empty eyes. He shifted his gaze, seeing the young woman huddled on the dry grass, her back to him.

“What year is it?”

Ni Su waited for a long time before hearing his unexpected question. Without turning around, she answered, “The nineteenth year of Zheng Yuan.”

The nineteenth year of Zheng Yuan.

Xu He Xue was taken aback.

One month in the mortal realm was equivalent to half a year in Youdu.

He had been in Youdu for nearly a hundred years, while only fifteen years had passed in the mortal realm.

Ni Su didn’t hear him speak again, but looking at her shadow on the ground, she remembered the phantom she had seen earlier. “Why did I see my brother’s image behind you that day in the cypress grove at Da Zhong Temple?”

“Perhaps I came into contact with his soul fire,” Xu He Xue said, his voice cold, standing under the eaves.

“What do you mean?” Ni Su, finally voicing the fear she had been suppressing, turned abruptly, her red-rimmed eyes meeting his in the candlelight. “Are you saying my brother…”

The candle flickered. The figure outside, previously fainter than moonlight, seemed to have become more solid.

“Youdu and the mortal realm are separated by the River of Resentment. The reed beds by the river are often frequented by new souls, including the soul fires of those suffering from soul loss.”

Only those afflicted with soul loss would have their soul fires, like fireflies, drift to the River of Resentment. Only their blood relatives could see the phantoms formed by these soul fires.

“How could my brother suffer from soul loss?” Ni Su’s mind raced, her mother’s words echoing in her ears. Tears welled up again.

Was her mother now by the River of Resentment, among the reeds?

Suppressing her grief, Ni Su looked up. The tall figure stood with his back to her, his head raised, as if gazing at something in the night sky.

Looking at him like this, he seemed no different from an ordinary person.

As if sensing her gaze, he suddenly turned, his clear, cold eyes meeting hers. His pale lips parted slightly. “Ni Su.”

He had heard people call her that more than once.

He also knew she was going to Yun Jing.

Ni Su stared at him, speechless.

“I was summoned by you and cannot leave your side in the mortal realm, but I also have unfinished business.” Xu He Xue looked at her intently. “Therefore, let’s make a deal. On our way to Yun Jing, I will help you find your brother, and you will help me fulfill my wish.”

In the dilapidated mountain temple, under the vast summer night sky, Ni Su, after a long silence, finally spoke. “What is your unfinished business?”

“The same as yours. To find someone.”

“Find who?”

Xu He Xue lowered his gaze, and Ni Su followed his line of sight to the silver embroidered characters on his sleeve.

“An old friend,” he said simply.

Perhaps it was the friend for whom he had prepared the winter clothes and written the inscription, yet had failed to burn them for fifteen years, Ni Su remembered the old monk’s words.

Ni Su remained silent. He stood outside the door, also silent. She noticed his shadow on the ground, a shimmering, fluffy, white light.

Traveling with a ghost, Ni Su should have been terrified.

“Alright,” she said, her throat tight, meeting his gaze. “As long as no innocent lives are harmed and no unnecessary trouble is caused, I agree.”

She lay down on the dry grass, her back to him, and closed her eyes.

But she couldn’t sleep.

Not only was there a ghost outside she couldn’t escape, but when she closed her eyes, she saw her mother’s face, her brother’s face. Tears welled up. She sat up again and took a piece of dry ration from her bag, eating it slowly.

She looked back and saw his shadow again, fluffy, seemingly with a tail, like an unknown creature, lively and endearing.

Ni Su looked up and unexpectedly met his gaze.

Unaware of the tears still clinging to her eyelashes, she saw him staring at her and lowered her gaze to the dry ration in her hand.

She broke off a piece and offered it to him.

But he didn’t move, his expression indifferent.

Ni Su withdrew the half-eaten ration, stared at the candle flame for a moment, then rummaged through her bag and pulled out another candle. Tentatively, she offered it to him. “Do you ghosts… like eating this?”

Chapter 6: Rain Rings (Part 6)

The rain fell all night, finally easing as dawn broke.

As soon as news from the Ni family ancestral home arrived, Ni Zong hurriedly dressed and, along with his wife Liu Shi, daughter Ni Mi Zhi, and daughter-in-law Tian Shi, rushed to the ancestral home.

“When did Sister-in-law pass?” Ni Zong, his face etched with feigned grief, asked the old steward at the door.

“Madam passed at dawn,” the old steward replied, wiping his tears with his sleeve and choking back sobs.

Ni Zong looked up and saw Liu Shi inside, sitting on the edge of the bed, weeping. His gaze swept across the room, landing on Nanny Qian standing to one side. He frowned, realizing that since entering the courtyard, he hadn’t seen any other servants besides the old steward and Nanny Qian.

Even his niece, Ni Su, was nowhere to be seen.

“Where are the other servants? And where’s my niece, Ni Su?” Ni Zong felt something was amiss.

“Madam dismissed all the servants before she passed,” Nanny Qian said, emerging from the room and bowing to Ni Zong. “As for the young miss, Madam couldn’t bear to have her watch her die, so she sent her to Da Zhong Temple yesterday. The young miss is currently praying for Madam at the temple. We just sent word, so she’ll likely return later.”

Ni Zong wondered about the apparent affection between this fake mother and daughter, but at this moment, he couldn’t say anything. He simply nodded and called for his own steward, instructing him to bring their servants to arrange the funeral.

Ni Zong was annoyed that Cen Zi Shu had caused him further trouble even in death. Knowing that her funeral arrangements would require people, she had dismissed the servants beforehand.

But then he thought, Cen Zi Shu must have known that after her death, the family assets she had clung to would rightfully fall into his hands. Unable to accept this, she had deliberately done this.

A sense of triumph swelled within Ni Zong, though he maintained a facade of grief. Seeing a servant boy passing by, he kicked him. “Where’s Qingwen? Where has he run off to at a time like this? Find him and bring him here!”

“Yes, sir!” The servant boy, kicked in the lower back, stumbled and fell, then quickly scrambled to his feet and ran off.

Ni Zong busied himself at the ancestral home for half a day, but Ni Su didn’t return. He then heard from his steward that Ni Qingwen was at the Ni family clinic.

Ni Zong rushed to the clinic, where his daughter-in-law, Tian Shi, was wailing. “Which heartless beast did this to my husband!”

What happened?

Ni Zong entered the hall. Sunlight streaming through the window illuminated Ni Qingwen’s festering hand. Ni Zong’s pupils contracted. “What happened?” he asked in a low voice.

The attending physician, a perceptive man, was even more respectful towards Second Master now that the mistress of the First Branch had passed. “Second Master, Young Master Qingwen came into contact with the sap of the Cat’s Eye Grass.”

Cat’s Eye Grass was the local name for the herb. Its proper name was Five Phoenix Spirit Branches, and when dried for medicinal use, it was called Qi Ze.

“I was drunk and don’t know where I fell. That’s how it happened,” Ni Qingwen said, his face pale with pain, his voice trembling.

With his fierce wife present, Ni Qingwen didn’t dare reveal the truth.

“How could I have raised such a…” Ni Zong’s anger flared. He pointed at Ni Qingwen, then, seeing his bloody hand, turned his head away, swallowing the rest of his curse. He urged the physician, “Treat him quickly!”

The physician quickly cleaned the wound and called for his apprentice to bring medicine.

“Master!” Ni Zong’s steward rushed in, sweating profusely, too breathless to speak properly. “I went to the First Branch’s estates to check the accounts and collect the deeds as you instructed, but all the fields and estates have been sold!”

What?

Ni Zong felt his vision darken. The steward quickly supported him.

“All sold?” Ni Zong murmured in disbelief.

“Yes, all bought by Headman Li. It was done legally. I sent someone to the Li residence to inquire, and they said Nanny Qian, from Cen Shi’s household, personally handled the transactions,” the steward said, panting.

“Cen Zi Shu!” Ni Zong’s face turned livid with rage. He pushed the steward away and paced back and forth, then roared, “Where’s Ni Su? Where is she? Who else could Cen Zi Shu have left the money to besides her?”

“Master, the people we sent to Da Zhong Temple have returned. No one at the ancestral home sent any message to the temple. More importantly, that Ni Su never went to Da Zhong Temple!” the steward said, wiping the sweat from his forehead, his voice filled with indignation.

“She didn’t go?” Ni Zong’s heart pounded in his chest, a sense of foreboding washing over him.

“Why would she go to Da Zhong Temple? I saw her outside yesterday!” Ni Qingwen, despite his pain, added fuel to the fire, seeing his father’s darkening expression. “She and Ni Qinglan have a study outside the city. She went there yesterday! I even saw her packing some things. If she didn’t return to the mansion last night, she probably ran off with the money!”

“If you saw her, why didn’t you tell me? Were you out whoring? If it weren’t for your injured hand, I’d break your legs!” Ni Zong furiously kicked Ni Qingwen off his chair.

The kick landed on the injuries Ni Qingwen had sustained at the study the previous night, but he didn’t dare complain. As his wife, Tian Shi, leaned down, he reached for her hand to help him up, but she grabbed his collar and glared at him. “Ni Qingwen, were you out whoring?”

“No, no…” Ni Qingwen had indeed been drinking before going to the study, but he didn’t dare tell Tian Shi the truth.

Tian Shi, emboldened by her family’s financial support, was used to being domineering with Ni Qingwen and wouldn’t let him off easily. The clinic became chaotic. Ni Zong, too exasperated to care, stormed out and leaned against the doorframe, speechless with rage.

“Master, if Young Master is right, Ni Su left last night. But the rain was heavy then, so she can’t have gone far. It’s only past noon now. If we send people after her, we can still catch her,” the steward said, following him out.

“Send people?” Ni Zong stopped rubbing his eyes. “Who do you suggest we send?”

The steward smiled mysteriously. “I’ve heard there are bandits on Mount Jin Que outside the city. They’re mercenaries. If Master is willing to pay, they’ll definitely bring her back.”

Ni Zong pondered for a moment. Despite his usual stinginess, the thought of the vast sum of money from the sale of the First Branch’s lands and estates made him clench his fists. “Go and arrange this immediately. But don’t tell them she has any money. Just say she’s a runaway bride. Make sure they bring her back alive.”

“Yes, sir,” the steward replied. Seeing Ni Zong’s expression, he cautiously asked, “But what about Cen Shi’s funeral? Shall we still proceed?”

Ni Zong’s face darkened further.

His brother, Ni Zhun, had cured the county magistrate’s chronic illness, earning the magistrate’s favor and protection for the First Branch. With Cen Shi’s death, the magistrate would likely come to pay his respects. If Ni Zong wanted to rightfully take control of the Ni family clinics, he couldn’t neglect the funeral.

His jaw tightened. “Proceed. And make it a grand one.”

—-

After sending Uncle Zhang and Xing Zhu away, Ni Su didn’t leave immediately. Instead, she had the two servants fetch a carriage and went to Zao Hua Village to find a medicine woman. This woman possessed detailed records of the female ailments she had encountered throughout her life, as well as folk remedies she had learned from other medicine women in her youth.

A month ago, Ni Su had paid her to hire a literate person to record her experiences and knowledge as she dictated. The medicine woman, having lived half her life, had never met such a young, unmarried woman who dared to associate with people like her. With the introduction from a familiar midwife, she readily agreed.

After obtaining the records from the medicine woman, Ni Su immediately left. However, the heavy rain that night made the journey difficult. The carriage got stuck twice on the muddy mountain road, delaying them considerably.

As dusk approached, the two servants stopped the carriage by a stream, unharnessed the horses, and let them graze and drink. Ni Su ate a few bites of the dry rations they offered and stared at the setting sun reflected in the water.

They were still some distance from the nearest town, Qiao Zhen, but it was getting dark. The two servants didn’t dare delay and set off again after the horses had eaten.

At midnight, as Qiao Zhen came into sight, the servant driving the carriage roused his companion, about to speak, when they heard the rapid approach of hoofbeats.

The other servant looked back. Under the moonlight, a group of dark figures on horseback drew closer, their horses neighing. A sense of dread washed over him. “Miss, there are many people coming from behind!”

Ni Su pulled back the curtain and looked out. Seeing the approaching figures, she also felt a sense of foreboding. But before she could react, the riders, lightly equipped, easily overtook their slow-moving carriage and surrounded them. There were more than a dozen of them.

Ni Zong had truly spared no expense this time.

“Miss…” The two servants, terrified by the sight of the bandits’ swords, huddled inside the carriage.

The bearded leader slashed through the carriage curtain with his sword, then hooked the lantern hanging from the awning with the tip of his blade and brought it closer. Another rider, tall and thin, unfurled a scroll and squinted at it. “Got her, Boss. It’s her.”

The bearded man stared at Ni Su’s face, momentarily captivated. “They say a beauty looks even more beautiful under the lantern light. It’s true. Miss, you’re clearly a sheltered young lady from a wealthy family. You’ve never left Que County and probably don’t know the shortcut through the mountains. We’ve been chasing you relentlessly and finally caught you.”

“How much did Ni Zong pay you?” Ni Su leaned back, her gaze fixed on the sharp blade holding the lantern, forcing herself to remain calm.

“What? Do you have money to offer?” The bearded man, his fierce eyes scrutinizing her, said nonchalantly. “We’re not easily bought off with a small sum.”

“If Ni Zong can afford it, so can I,” Ni Su said, her palms sweating. “As long as you leave me unharmed.”

“Boss, how much money could a runaway bride have?” The thin man looked at Ni Su’s mud-stained clothes and the single pearl hairpin in her hair. But then his gaze fell on her face, and he grinned. “I’ve never seen such a beautiful young woman. If we sell her, we could probably get a higher price than that rich man offered!”

“Don’t you dare.”

The bearded man, who had been slightly swayed by the thin man’s words, heard the young woman’s voice from inside the carriage. He looked up and saw a dagger in her hand, pressed against her own throat.

“Let’s talk this over nicely…” The thin man was taken aback. He had never seen anything like this. Faced with them, this delicate woman held a dagger steadily.

“I know you only want money. I can offer you more than Ni Zong, enough to ensure my safety. But if you have any other ideas, you’ll get neither me nor the money.”

As Ni Su spoke, she observed the bearded man’s expression. Seeing his hesitation, she knew she had guessed correctly. Ni Zong wanted her alive.

She continued, “If I die, you won’t find the money I’ve hidden. My servants don’t know where it is either. And you won’t get the money from Ni Zong.”

“Boss… she’s right.” The thin man scratched his head, then, seeing the thin line of blood appearing on Ni Su’s neck, said irritably, “This woman is really fierce!”

The bearded man’s sharp gaze swept over Ni Su’s face. He seemed to be considering his options. The silence was agonizing for Ni Su. She stared back at him, not daring to relax, her back drenched in cold sweat.

The two servants huddled inside, trembling with fear, not daring to look out. Ni Su, peering through the torn curtain, saw the bandits falling from their horses one after another.

Suddenly, the world fell silent. The fierce wind died down, and the chirping of cicadas filled the air.

Ni Su watched as the startled horses bolted, leaving a single figure standing among the motionless bodies of the bandits.

She cautiously stepped out of the carriage, her knees weak. She steadied herself against the carriage and slowly approached the figure.

The moonlight was silver, and his cloak was dark, its embroidery shimmering.

Ni Su abruptly stopped.

The events in the cypress grove at Da Zhong Temple flashed through her mind.

She instinctively took two steps back. He turned slightly, his eyelashes fluttering. The sword in his hand dripped blood. His downcast eyes were empty and lifeless.

Chapter 5: Rain Rings (Part 5)

The night rain fell steadily, beating flowers into the mud.

Ni Mi Zhi, accompanied by her maidservant, walked through the covered walkway. Before reaching the study, she took a bowl of hot soup from the maidservant and stopped at the door.

“The laws of our Great Qi allow women to remarry, but that Cen Zi Shu, greedy for our Ni family’s assets, insists on remaining a widow for so many years. Even the county magistrate praised her and built her a chastity arch! She lives in our Ni family’s ancestral home, yet I can barely step inside!”

The sounds of smashing cups and angry roars came from within the room. Ni Mi Zhi’s shoulders trembled, and she pursed her lips, hesitant to knock.

“Master, why be so angry? These past few days, I’ve seen the physicians from the clinic visiting her frequently. Even if she disliked you before, she would still invite you in for tea. Now, she’s repeatedly refused to see you. I’m afraid she’s too ill to get up,” the steward said, bowing to pick up the broken porcelain pieces and then looking up with a fawning expression. “If she’s too ill to get up, and Young Master Qinglan is missing without a trace, isn’t this your chance to rightfully reclaim your family’s property?”

The Ni family had once been prosperous and prominent in Zezhou. However, when Ni Zhun and Ni Zong were teenagers, their father, Ni Zhi Guang, made poor business decisions, compounded by the war in the north, losing most of their fortune.

The medical clinic was the foundation of the Ni family. If Ni Zhi Guang hadn’t greedily dabbled in other businesses, he wouldn’t have lost so much. Learning his lesson, Ni Zhi Guang brought his family back to their ancestral home in Que County, using their remaining wealth to reopen several clinics and invest in a cloth shop.

Although Ni Zong was born of a concubine, Ni Zhi Guang allowed him to study medicine alongside Ni Zhun. However, Ni Zong wasn’t a good student and often made mistakes. Ni Zhi Guang believed he wasn’t suited for this path, so before his death, he divided the family assets. The ancestral home and the clinics went to his legitimate son, Ni Zhun, while the cloth shop went to Ni Zong.

But how could the cloth shop compare to the established Ni family clinic?

Ni Zong had always resented this.

Especially after Ni Zhun’s death, with the clinic in the hands of a widow, and his widowed sister-in-law always treating him with disdain, his resentment grew.

“That unyielding little concubine-born Ni Su is also a troublesome thorn in our side,” Ni Zong said, sitting back in his chair and turning his face towards the dim light of the lantern on the desk. “Could that Cen Zi Shu really hand over our Ni family clinic to such a girl…”

“Master, that’s impossible. It’s simply unheard of. Besides,” the steward said, offering a cup of tea obsequiously, “women eventually marry. Once married, they’re considered outsiders.”

Ni Zong took the teacup, the steam softening the wrinkles on his face. He paused, then looked up, his eyes narrowing slightly. “That’s true. That Ni Su, always imitating her mother’s haughty demeanor, should have chosen a husband long ago.”

He suddenly sneered. “Now, she won’t even have the chance to choose.”

The summer night rain wasn’t cold, but through the thin door and window, Ni Mi Zhi felt a chilling undercurrent in her father’s words. She almost dropped the porcelain bowl. Coming to her senses, she realized the bowl had cooled. She grabbed her maidservant’s hand and hurried back.

Won’t even have the chance to choose. What did that mean?

As Ni Mi Zhi walked back to her room, she pondered her father’s words. She stopped abruptly, and her maidservant, following close behind, almost bumped into her. “Miss?”

The cold light of lightning flashed through the corridor, illuminating the rain and mist. After a moment of hesitation, Ni Mi Zhi turned back to her maidservant. “Quietly go to Elder Aunt’s house and find Ni Su. Tell her… tell her…”

She bit her lip. “Tell her not to go out these days. There might be ruffians who would threaten her virtue.”

“Yes, Miss.” The maidservant bowed, grabbed an oil-paper umbrella, and hurried into the rain.

At the Ni family’s ancestral home, Nanny Qian had already arranged for the luggage to be loaded onto the carriage. It was raining, and late at night. The servants Ni Zong had sent to keep watch were sheltering from the rain under the oiled cloth awnings of food stalls. No one noticed the alley behind the ancestral home, the perfect time for Ni Su to leave.

“Don’t underestimate that old coachman, Zhang. He used to be a bodyguard in his younger days and knows martial arts. That’s why Madam trusts him to escort you to the capital.”

Nanny Qian held an umbrella over the young woman, brushing raindrops from her cloak, her eyes welling up. “Miss, take care of yourself on your journey to the capital, alright?”

Nanny Qian had largely raised Ni Su when she was a child. Ni Su held her hand. “I’m not alone. Uncle Zhang and Xing Zhu are with me. Don’t worry, Nanny Qian. Please…” Ni Su choked back tears, her throat dry. “Please take care of Mother, and take care of yourself.”

“Don’t worry, Miss. I’ll be with Madam.” Nanny Qian patted the back of Ni Su’s hand and helped her towards the carriage. But as Ni Su stepped onto the footstool, she looked back at the half-open door, at the courtyard veiled in rain and the soft glow of lanterns.

She suddenly let go of Nanny Qian’s hand, stepped out from under the umbrella, and knelt down on the steps.

Her skirt soaked through, raindrops pattering against her eyelashes, she bowed her head and kowtowed deeply.

Nanny Qian covered her mouth, turning her face away to weep silently.

“Where’s that Xing Zhu? Why hasn’t she returned?” The old coachman, having harnessed the horses, peered towards the alley entrance.

Ni Su, helped into the carriage by Nanny Qian, grew increasingly uneasy as Xing Zhu failed to return. “Let’s go to the study to find her,” she said to the coachman.

It had always been inconvenient for Ni Qinglan to teach Ni Su medicine at home, so he used his savings to buy a small courtyard in the east of the city to use as a study.

The sky had just darkened, and seeing the rain, Cen Shi had decided that Ni Su should leave immediately. In their haste, Ni Su hadn’t had time to retrieve a set of golden needles, a few medical books, and some belongings from the study. Xing Zhu had volunteered to fetch them.

Xing Zhu, having been with Ni Su since childhood, knew where she kept her things. Ni Su had sent a couple of servants with her.

The night rain intensified, drumming against the carriage roof. The old coachman drove on, the wheels splashing through muddy water, heading east.

The rain had extinguished many lanterns, making the streets dim. The alley was even darker. By the flickering lantern light under the carriage awning, the old coachman saw several servants in straw raincoats huddled against the wall outside the study courtyard, laughing. Seeing the approaching carriage, they immediately stopped laughing, their faces tightening as they nudged each other.

“Hey, isn’t that the First Branch’s carriage…?” one of them said, squinting at the lantern bearing the “Ni” character.

Two servants, tied up like dumplings in the shadows, heard this and immediately struggled to roll into the lantern light, muffled “mmm” sounds escaping their gagged mouths.

The old coachman recognized the bound men and also identified one of the other servants as someone who often accompanied Ni Zong’s son, Ni Qingwen. He turned back. “Miss, it’s Young Master Qingwen’s men!”

Ni Su pulled back the curtain. The servant, his eyes meeting hers, turned and ran towards the courtyard gate to warn those inside. But the old coachman quickly jumped down from the carriage, blocking his path.

“Uncle Zhang, hit them!”

The rain intensified, drowning out other sounds. Ni Su’s unease grew. Ignoring the umbrella and without a footstool, she jumped down from the carriage, twisting her ankle.

The men with Ni Qingwen were skinny and weak. Uncle Zhang easily overpowered them, pushing them into the muddy water and beating them. Ni Su, ignoring the pain in her ankle, hurried into the courtyard.

“Help! Help!” A desperate cry came from within the closed room.

A slender young man pressed down on the shoulders of the woman on the floor, laughing. “My dear Xing Zhu, be sensible. It’s better to be with me than to be Ni Su’s maidservant. Her brother is gone, and her Elder Aunt is dying. The Ni family’s assets will be mine sooner or later!”

Tears streamed down Xing Zhu’s face. She screamed, trying to escape his grasp, but the difference in strength made it impossible. The man ripped open her collar, her silk trousers half-undone. He grinned, about to lean in.

With a crash, the door burst open.

Ni Qingwen jumped, startled. Thunder rumbled. He turned impatiently. “Who the hell…”

A flash of cold light, and a wooden staff struck him in the face. A sharp pain shot through his nose, and warm blood flowed. He cried out, finally seeing the rain-streaked face before him.

“Ni Su!”

Recognizing her, Ni Qingwen, his face livid, lunged at her, trying to grab the staff. Ni Su dodged just as Uncle Zhang ran in, intercepting Ni Qingwen and grappling with him.

Xing Zhu lay on the floor, motionless, until a soaked figure lifted her and held her close. Tears finally spilled from her eyes. She sobbed, “Miss… Miss…”

To prevent Xing Zhu from escaping, Ni Qingwen had ordered his men to break her leg.

Ni Qingwen, a useless wastrel, was no match for the fifty-year-old Uncle Zhang, who beat him until he cried out in pain.

Ni Su, ignoring the commotion, straightened Xing Zhu’s clothes and gently felt her injured leg. “Xing Zhu, bear with me.”

Without waiting for a response, she suddenly applied force. A cracking sound followed by Xing Zhu’s cry of pain filled the room. Her eyes were red and swollen.

Xing Zhu trembled, the shame of being violated making her want to vomit. Ni Su soothed her gently. Ni Qingwen, his face bruised and swollen, was pinned to the ground by Uncle Zhang. He yelled, “Ni Su! What are you so smug about? Your mother is dying! The ancestral home and the clinic will be ours soon! Who do you think you are? Instead of begging for mercy, you dare to hit me!”

Ni Su released Xing Zhu, stood up, and walked over to Ni Qingwen, looking down at him.

Water droplets trailed from the pearl hairpin in her hair, gathering into a glistening drop on her earlobe. She leaned down and slapped Ni Qingwen hard across the face.

“Even if I were to beg you for mercy now, Cousin, I doubt you would be magnanimous enough to spare me.”

Ni Qingwen was stunned by the slap. He heard her voice again and slowly looked up. The young woman before him was drenched, her damp hair plastered to her ears. Her eyes were clear and gentle, her fair cheeks wet with rain.

Ni Qingwen watched as she stood up and took the staff from Uncle Zhang. His eyes widened. “Ni Su, you…”

A blow to the back of his head cut him off.

Uncle Zhang watched as Ni Su dropped the staff and rummaged through the medicine basket outside, returning with a handkerchief wrapped around tender green, flower-shaped stems and leaves. “Miss, what are you doing?”

“Uncle Zhang, after what happened, and with her leg injured, Xing Zhu can’t travel to the capital with me, nor can she stay in Que County.” Ni Su tossed the handkerchief and the herbs inside into Ni Qingwen’s right hand. “Therefore, I have a favor to ask.”

Uncle Zhang watched as Ni Su placed her embroidered shoe on Ni Qingwen’s hand and ground it down, crushing the stems and releasing a white sap that coated his hand.

“Xing Zhu’s hometown, Luan Town, suffered a flood many years ago. Xing Zhu and her mother fled here when she was young. After her mother died, she had no means of support and became my maidservant. I heard she still has a relative in Luan Town. I’ll leave some money for you and her. Please escort her back to Luan Town. It’s best if you stay there for a while and avoid returning here.”

Ni Qingwen had a domineering wife, and his family’s business relied heavily on his wife’s family’s support. Even if he suffered this humiliation tonight, he wouldn’t dare to make a fuss. Moreover, Ni Zong’s new concubine was pregnant, and Ni Qingwen was worried she might bear a son. Due to his wife’s family’s influence, Ni Zong wouldn’t allow Ni Qingwen to take a concubine. He also despised Ni Qingwen’s useless and pleasure-seeking ways. At this juncture, Ni Qingwen wouldn’t dare to complain to Ni Zong, but he would certainly seek revenge privately.

Xing Zhu, still dazed, heard Ni Su’s words. She stirred, her gaze falling on the stems and leaves that had fallen from the handkerchief.

Five Phoenix Spirit Branches, also known as Qi Ze, could clear heat and detoxify, suppress coughs and resolve phlegm, and treat skin ailments. However, the fresh sap from its stems was poisonous, causing skin ulcers upon contact.

Having been with Ni Su for so many years, Xing Zhu recognized the herb immediately.

The un-dried herbs in the medicine basket outside were also the ones she had collected from the herbalists.

“Miss…” Xing Zhu murmured.

She was a servant. Even if Ni Qingwen hadn’t succeeded, even if he had, there was no law in Great Qi that could bring her justice.

Rain and mist swirled in the lantern light outside the door. The wind billowed Ni Su’s sleeves. She turned back, meeting Xing Zhu’s swollen eyes.

“Xing Zhu, don’t be afraid. Whichever hand he touched you with, I’ll make sure it rots.”

In the courtyard, the rain-washed locust tree cast a deep shadow. A young man with a pale face sat leaning against the tree.

He wore a dark cloak with a fox fur collar, unsuitable for midsummer. His white inner robes trailed on the ground. His shadow, cast in the faint lantern light, shimmered with an unnoticed luminescence.

Through the gaps in the leaves, he silently watched the scene within the room.

His cold eyes held the chill of deep winter.

Chapter 4: Rain Rings (Part 4)

The lantern’s flame stung Ni Su’s eyes. The dizziness from the ringing in her ears made her stumble. Her knees buckled, but a hand gripped her wrist.

An extreme coldness emanated from his fingertips, a chill more intense than the ice and snow. Ni Su shivered, steadying herself and looking up. “Thank you…”

Her voice was tight from the cold. Her gaze met his. His eyes were clear as dew, reflecting the faint sunlight, yet cold, as cold as the fingers he had just withdrawn.

Like the midsummer snow, there was a strange, desolate beauty about him.

The lantern light glinted off the gold-lacquered lotus pagoda, drawing his gaze. The mountain wind rustled the copper bells. As he looked at the pagoda, a distant memory seemed to stir within him. His cold eyes remained devoid of light as he turned to her and asked, “Is this Da Zhong Temple?”

A strange feeling crept into Ni Su’s heart. Just as she was about to speak, her pupils contracted.

Sparkling lights, like fireflies, floated behind him. They coalesced, gradually forming a hazy figure.

“Brother!” Ni Su cried out.

The shimmering light illuminated the man’s pale profile. He glanced silently behind him, and the phantom shattered, the glittering lights scattering into the wind and snow.

Large snowflakes drifted down, but just as they were about to land on him, the mountain wind blew them away. He remained untouched by the snow.

Ni Su’s gaze followed the falling snowflakes. The lantern light flickered. She noticed the silver embroidery on his cloak, ethereal and cloud-like, as if about to take flight.

The embroidered characters on the cuff shimmered faintly.

Zi Ling.

“You…” The cold and heavy snow made Ni Su forget where the bronze basin had gone, but she could still smell the lingering ashes in the wind. The chill in her bones deepened. Afraid she was mistaken, she instinctively reached out to touch his sleeve.

Her fingers met nothing.

The cold wind passed through her hand. The young man before her, who had been gazing at her calmly, dissolved into the cold mountain mist.

He vanished.

Ni Su’s hand froze in midair, numb with cold. The snow continued to fall, but the ink-black sky showed signs of lightening.

The chanting in the temple had stopped some time ago.

The old abbot and the monks gathered outside the main hall, expressing their astonishment.

“Why is it suddenly snowing?” A young novice looked up.

“This is not a good omen,” someone said.

The old abbot shook his head, chanting “Amitabha” and silencing their discussion. “Don’t speak such nonsense.”

The young novice on duty at the temple gate was extremely annoyed by the strange weather. His monk’s robes were thin and offered little protection against the winter-like chill. He was considering returning to his room to find a winter coat when he heard a rapid, panicked knocking at the gate.

Startled, the novice quickly opened the door and peered out.

He recognized the female benefactor outside. She was the one who had come to retrieve the safety amulet not long ago. But now, her temples were damp with sweat, her clothes stained, and her face pale.

“Benefactress, what happened to you?” the novice asked in astonishment.

“Little Master, I need to find the old master who gave me the safety amulet.” Ni Su was freezing, her voice trembling slightly.

Although he didn’t understand, the novice invited her inside.

“Has the chanting stopped?” Ni Su didn’t hear any chanting as she entered the temple.

“It was supposed to continue for another short while, but it ended early because of this strange, sudden snowfall,” the novice replied, leading Ni Su forward.

A short while.

Ni Su froze.

She clearly remembered the old monk in the cypress grove telling her that the chanting would continue until dusk.

“Uncle Hui Jue, this benefactress is looking for you.”

The novice’s voice rang out. Ni Su instinctively looked up.

Hui Jue, stout and benevolent-looking, with a dark beard, walked over with a smile, chanting “Amitabha.” “Benefactress, you’ve returned. Is there something wrong with the safety amulet?”

“Are you Hui Jue?” Ni Su asked incredulously.

Hui Jue, confused, exchanged a glance with the novice, clasped his hands together, and said kindly, “I am Hui Jue.”

“Benefactress, didn’t you just meet Uncle Hui Jue? Why don’t you recognize him?” the novice asked, puzzled.

Ni Su instinctively took a step back, then another.

Her face grew even paler.

The sky had cleared, and sunlight gilded the eaves of the ancient, imposing temple.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

The monk who had given her the amulet in the temple had a white, curled beard. His figure, face, and voice were completely different from this Hui Jue.

Despite being surrounded by deities in the temple, Ni Su felt no comfort. The snow, the temple, this person—they twisted into a bizarre, grotesque rope, tightening around her throat.

Seeing her distraught state, Hui Jue spoke with concern. “This strange snow has brought a winter-like chill.” He turned to the novice. “Quickly find a cloak for the benefactress.”

The novice was about to nod when the benefactress suddenly turned and ran. He called after her, but she only quickened her pace.

“Not only is the snow strange today, but the people are too…” the novice muttered, rubbing his shaved head.

Heavy snow fell all day, covering Que County in a layer of white. People in teahouses, taverns, and streets discussed the strange snowfall.

Ni Su fell ill upon returning home from Da Zhong Temple.

Her fever remained high. Nanny Qian, busy attending to Cen Shi, also checked on Ni Su constantly. Every physician from the Ni family clinic examined Ni Su, but their prescriptions were largely the same.

Cen Shi, despite her illness, visited Ni Su once. After listening to the physicians discuss fever remedies, her pale, gaunt face remained expressionless.

That night, hearing from Nanny Qian that Ni Su’s fever had broken, Cen Shi, without a word, let out a soft sigh of relief and finally took a sip of the medicine Nanny Qian offered.

On the third day, Ni Su finally regained consciousness. Xing Zhu wept with joy, carefully wiping the sweat from Ni Su’s forehead with an embroidered handkerchief. “Miss, are you thirsty? Are you hungry?”

Ni Su’s reaction was slow. After a while, she shook her head. “Where’s Mother?” Her voice was hoarse.

“Don’t worry, Miss. Madam is better,” Xing Zhu said, bringing a bowl of warm tea.

In truth, Xing Zhu hadn’t been to Cen Shi’s courtyard. She had only heard from the old steward that Cen Shi was able to get out of bed today and assumed she was better.

However, just as Ni Su began to recover, Cen Shi started coughing up blood.

If Ni Zong hadn’t come, alerted by the news, and if Cen Shi hadn’t been too weak to get up, forcing Nanny Qian to seek Ni Su’s help, Ni Su would have remained in the dark.

“Your cold hasn’t fully recovered, and these past few days, you’ve had to deal with your Second Uncle and attend to me. I’ve troubled you,” Cen Shi said, watching Nanny Qian carry out a basin of blood-stained water. Her gaze fell on her daughter. Her throat was raw from coughing up blood.

“It wasn’t any trouble,” Ni Su said, holding Cen Shi’s hand. “Mother is the one who’s suffering.”

Cen Shi twitched her lips. It wasn’t quite a smile. She rarely smiled. “These past few days, while I was asleep, you must have secretly taken my pulse, haven’t you?”

Ni Su remained silent and started to rise, but Cen Shi tightened her grip.

“You don’t need to kneel.” Cen Shi’s eyes were sunken with exhaustion. “I’m not hiding my illness from you now. You’ve taken my pulse. You know how many days I have left.”

Ni Su met her gaze. “Mother…”

“In our family, women aren’t supposed to have such aspirations.” Cen Shi leaned against the pillows, her chest rising and falling as she spoke. “Your father beat you, punished you, but you’re stubborn. You refused to yield even after enduring pain and suffering.”

“I know. Lan’er taught you everything.” A hint of tenderness touched Cen Shi’s pale lips as she mentioned Ni Qinglan.

“…You knew?” Ni Su murmured, stunned.

“If Lan’er hadn’t taught you everything he knew, how much could you have learned from secretly observing at the clinic? Your father guarded against you like a thief.” Cen Shi, weak and breathless, seemed to gain some strength as she spoke of these things. “After the incident with He Liu Shi when he was sixteen, your father forced him to study literature. He secretly taught you while keeping you by his side. Once, he was teaching you to recite medical verses, and I was standing right outside the study door.”

Ni Su had thought she and her brother had kept their secret well. The family only knew she was constantly punished by her father for her failed attempts at studying medicine, but they didn’t know her brother had been teaching her all along.

She hadn’t expected that Cen Shi, who had always opposed her studying medicine, had discovered their secret long ago but hadn’t exposed them to her father.

She wasn’t Cen Shi’s biological daughter, yet Cen Shi had never mistreated her, acknowledging her as her own and raising her as her own flesh and blood. But Cen Shi always wore a cold expression, rarely spoke, and maintained a natural distance that prevented closeness. Therefore, although Ni Su respected and loved her, she couldn’t be as comfortable with her as Ni Mi Zhi was with Liu Shi.

In fact, Cen Shi wasn’t just like this with her; it was her nature, making her difficult to approach. Even with Ni Qinglan, their interactions were reserved.

“Did your brother ever tell you why he, as a young man, delved into gynecology?”

“No.” Ni Su shook her head, her thoughts drifting uncontrollably to the cypress grove at Da Zhong Temple, to the thin young man in the dark cloak.

She had briefly seen Ni Qinglan’s image in the strange light behind him.

Cen Shi sighed softly. “He’s a filial child. After I gave birth to him, I developed a hidden ailment. It wasn’t serious at first, but over time, it worsened. You know that most physicians in this world are not proficient in, nor do they value, gynecology. Your father is the same. I didn’t want to tell him about my condition.”

“But the pain became unbearable. One time, Lan’er saw me suffering. He was still a child then. I found it difficult to speak of such matters even to my own son. But he’s stubborn. When I refused to tell him, he was going to find his father to examine me. I had no choice but to tell him that his father couldn’t, and wouldn’t, treat this illness.”

“But he took it to heart and actually went out and secretly brought back a medicine woman to treat me.”

In those times, medicine women were considered low-class, often selling remedies to women with hidden ailments in the countryside. They lacked proper recognition and were looked down upon.

Ni Qinglan, at such a young age, had gone to the village alone to find a medicine woman for Cen Shi.

“Your birth mother was a pitiful woman. She gave birth to you but couldn’t raise you.” Cen Shi’s expression softened as she spoke of the gentle and submissive woman. “She died giving birth to your younger brother. The midwife couldn’t do anything. Your father couldn’t bear to lose both your mother and brother, but he wasn’t proficient in gynecology. Even after setting aside propriety and entering the room, he couldn’t save them.”

Cen Shi looked at Ni Su. “You were very young then, crying inconsolably. Lan’er couldn’t even soothe you with malt candy.”

“A-Xi,” Cen Shi said, “your brother defied medical convention for me and for you. He couldn’t bear to see me suffer from a hidden ailment, nor could he bear to see you lose your mother. Because of us, he developed a rare compassion for women and couldn’t stand to see other women suffer from similar ailments.”

Unfortunately, Ni Qinglan’s first real treatment of a woman became his last.

“He dedicated himself to this path, but it wasn’t accepted by society.”

“A-Xi, I should actually thank you. He was plagued by rumors and gossip in his youth and forced by your father to abandon medicine for literature. Your courage to continue his work is probably his only solace these past years.”

Hearing Cen Shi’s words, Ni Su remembered the rainy night in the ancestral hall, the conversation she had with her brother.

“Mother, when you recover, I’ll go to Yun Jing to find Brother,” Ni Su said softly.

“Why wait? The people we sent to Yun Jing haven’t sent any news. You might as well go now.”

“Mother?” Ni Su looked up in surprise, then shook her head. “How can I leave you now and go to the capital? How can I be at peace?”

“With your brother’s fate unknown, can either of us be at peace?” Cen Shi started coughing, her body shaking. After a while, she pulled away from Ni Su’s comforting hand on her back and called for Nanny Qian.

“A-Xi, I made you kneel in the ancestral hall because your father never wronged you. You are as important to him as Lan’er. He has his reasons. You defied him, defied the Ni family rules. You should kneel before him and our ancestors.”

Cen Shi stroked her face. “Don’t blame me.”

Tears welled up in Ni Su’s eyes. She knelt down. “Mother, I’ve never blamed you. I know you treat me well.”

“Good child.” At this point, Cen Shi could no longer hold back her tears. “You know I only have a few days left. Instead of staying with me, you should go find your brother. Before your father died, he earned a good reputation. The plaque from the county government is in our house. These past few years, your Second Uncle, because of my status as a widow, hasn’t dared to shamelessly seize our family’s assets. But now, with your brother missing and my poor health known to them, once I’m gone, how can you, a lone young woman, defend against your Second Uncle’s wolfish ambitions?”

“Without a male heir, outsiders won’t care about these matters. Because you’re a woman, the Ni family has no reason to give you the inheritance. Even if you seek justice from the county magistrate, he’ll side with them. They could easily marry you off to anyone.”

Cen Shi glanced at Nanny Qian, who immediately understood and brought a small box from the cabinet, opening it before Ni Su.

Although the box was small, it was filled with banknotes.

“The day you went to Da Zhong Temple to retrieve the amulet, I had Nanny Qian sell our estates and fields. I also pawned my dowry and jewelry and exchanged them for this money for you to use in the capital.”

A cold smile flickered across Cen Shi’s haggard face. “We can’t let Ni Zong bully us in everything. He can take over the Ni family clinic if he wants, but he can only dream of getting his hands on these lands and properties.”

“Mother…”

“Listen to me.” Cen Shi cut her off firmly. “If you truly care about me, leave as soon as possible. Don’t let your Second Uncle scheme against you. Go find your brother and bring him back. Then you can rightfully reclaim our family clinic. No matter how unwilling Ni Zong is, he’ll have to arrange my funeral properly. As for the servants in the house, Nanny Qian will dismiss them after I’m gone.”

Nanny Qian remained silent, wiping her tears with her sleeve.

Having said all this, Cen Shi seemed to have exhausted all her strength. She didn’t allow Ni Su to speak another word, closing her eyes and saying calmly, “Go. I’m tired.”

Ni Su held the box, fighting back tears. She stood up, supported by Xing Zhu, and walked to the door. The midsummer sunlight was bright and intense, spilling across the threshold.

“A-Xi.”

Suddenly, she heard Cen Shi’s voice behind her.

Ni Su turned back. The bed curtains obscured Cen Shi’s face. Standing at the threshold, she could only hear her say, “This path is arduous. There are many narrow-minded men in this world. Aren’t you afraid to be alone?”

Women who practiced gynecology were often considered no different from low-class midwives.

Ni Su’s tears finally flowed. Standing in the sunlight, her shadow cast long on the ground, she looked at the figure behind the light blue bed curtains and answered clearly:

“Mother, I’m not afraid.”

Chapter 3: Rain Rings (Part 3)

Ni Qinglan disappeared after the winter examinations.

The letter was sent to Ni Qinglan by a scholar from Yanzhou who was a close friend. The friend wrote that Ni Qinglan had left the inn the night after the examination. Assuming Ni Qinglan was despondent over a poor performance, the friend wrote to him at his home address, offering comfort and suggesting they meet in Yun Jing the following year.

Judging by the Yanzhou scholar’s tone, Ni Qinglan indeed hadn’t passed the exam. But if the letter had arrived, why hadn’t Ni Qinglan returned home?

At first, Cen Shi consoled herself that perhaps her son was delayed on the road and might return in a few days. But as one or two months passed, Ni Qinglan not only failed to return but also sent no word.

Cen Shi’s health, already fragile, deteriorated further. She was confined to bed, eating and sleeping little, and becoming thinner than before.

She forbade Ni Su from taking her pulse or inquiring about her illness. The old physician who regularly attended to Cen Shi was also tight-lipped. Ni Su had no choice but to secretly examine the medicinal dregs with Xing Zhu. This act, however, was witnessed.

“Get up. I won’t punish you.” Cen Shi leaned against the soft pillows, scrutinizing the young woman kneeling by her bed. “But don’t think you did nothing wrong. However, since you’ve recently been shielding me from Ni Zong and his family, preventing them from disturbing me, that will offset your punishment.”

“Mother…” Ni Su looked up. Cen Shi had grown so thin that her eyes were sunken. Seeing her like this, Ni Su felt a pang of guilt.

“I asked the high monk from Da Zhong Temple to consecrate a safety amulet. I’ve been ill and forgot about it. Go and retrieve it for me.” Cen Shi’s weak voice carried an undeniable authority.

At this juncture, Ni Su didn’t want to go to Da Zhong Temple, but since Cen Shi had spoken, she had no room to refuse. She left the room and called for the old steward, instructing him on household matters, especially guarding against Ni Zong and his family causing further trouble.

Da Zhong Temple was a famous temple from the previous dynasty. A large bronze bell within the temple was engraved with poems and writings by numerous renowned scholars of that era. Situated on a quiet and secluded mountain, it was embraced by mountain flowers and vegetation, seemingly untouched by time.

Because of this, Da Zhong Temple was frequently visited by scholars and literati, who left behind many excellent works, contributing to the temple’s enduring prosperity.

Ni Su, her mind restless, sat in the carriage, preoccupied with thoughts of her brother’s disappearance and her mother’s illness. Suddenly, the carriage jolted violently, and the horse outside neighed. Without a second thought, Xing Zhu cried out, “Miss!” and instinctively shielded Ni Su.

With a thud, Ni Su looked up and saw Xing Zhu’s forehead hit the carriage wall, a reddish mark quickly swelling into a bump.

“Xing Zhu, are you alright?” The carriage had stopped. Ni Su held Xing Zhu’s shoulders.

Xing Zhu, in pain and dizzy, shook her head, which only intensified her vertigo. “I’m fine, Miss…”

Rough hands pulled back the curtain, and sunlight fell on Ni Su’s face. The old coachman, covered in mud, said, “Miss, our wheel is broken. It rained yesterday, and now it’s stuck in the mud. I’m afraid we can’t go any further. But don’t worry, Miss, I can fix it in an hour or so.”

“Alright,” Ni Su nodded. This wasn’t her first time visiting Da Zhong Temple. Seeing the stone steps and mountain path ahead, she turned to Xing Zhu. “You’re dizzy and uncomfortable. I’ll go up myself. You rest in the carriage for a while.”

“I’ll accompany you, Miss,” Xing Zhu said, touching the swelling bump on her forehead and hissing in pain.

“I’ll apply medicine when we return to the mansion.” Ni Su patted her shoulder, lifted her skirt, and stepped down using the coachman’s footstool. Fortunately, the mud was only in the puddle where the carriage’s right wheel was stuck. The mountain path had been dried sufficiently by the sun, so it wasn’t too muddy.

Da Zhong Temple was halfway up the mountain. By the time Ni Su reached the temple gate, climbing the stone steps, a thin layer of sweat covered her back. After knocking and exchanging a few words with a young novice, she was invited inside to retrieve the amulet.

After praying to the Buddha in the main hall and drinking a bowl of clear tea, the temple bell rang, its sound echoing far and wide. It was time for the monks’ daily chanting. As they became busy, Ni Su decided not to linger.

Outside the temple gate, at the bottom of the hundred stone steps, lay a cypress grove. The grove was dense, its thick branches and leaves blocking the sunlight. A cluster of flames within caught her eye.

She remembered that when she arrived, the gold-lacquered lotus pagoda in the grove hadn’t been lit. From within the high walls, the monks’ chanting resonated, but the flames in the cypress grove burned brightly.

Ni Su saw an old monk emerge from behind the lotus pagoda, carrying a large, dark wooden box. He stumbled and slipped in the mud.

He fell hard and couldn’t get up immediately. Ni Su hurried over, lifting her skirt to help him. “Master?”

It was the same old monk who had given her the amulet earlier. His white beard, oddly curled, looked rather comical. Grimacing in pain, he lacked the usual composure of an elder monk. Seeing the young woman’s plum-green skirt stained with mud, he exclaimed, “Oh dear, I’ve soiled your clothes, Benefactress!”

“It’s alright,” Ni Su shook her head, helping him up. She noticed that the box he had been carrying had sprung open from the fall, revealing fur trim fluttering in the wind.

The old monk, noticing her gaze, rubbed his backside and said, “Oh, it rained non-stop a few days ago and caused a small landslide behind the lotus pagoda. I was just checking how to repair it when I found this box in the mud. It must be winter clothes that a pilgrim intended to burn for a deceased loved one.”

The cypress grove at Da Zhong Temple was indeed a designated place for people to burn winter clothes and paper money for their deceased relatives during festivals.

Before Ni Su could respond, the old monk heard the faint chanting from the temple above. His expression turned troubled. “The chanting has begun in the temple.”

He turned to Ni Su, his hands clasped together. “Benefactress, I saw the inscription on the box. The deceased soul is a poor man who died young. These winter clothes are fifteen years late. I intended to burn them on his behalf, but today’s chanting will likely continue until after dusk. Would you be willing to burn them for me, Benefactress?”

The old monk spoke earnestly.

“I…” Ni Su began, but the old monk had already pressed something into her hand and was limping towards the stone steps outside the grove, rubbing his backside. “Benefactress, I must hurry to the chanting. I entrust this matter to you!”

He was very different from the monks Ni Su had encountered before. Old and white-bearded, yet lacking steadiness, neither weathered nor solemn.

Ni Su looked down at the wooden carved bead in her hand, a fierce beast’s head rendered in exquisite detail. She couldn’t identify the creature, and a sense of unease settled upon her.

“My beast bead is much more effective than those two safety amulets you’re carrying, Benefactress.”

The old monk’s voice trailed off. Ni Su looked back, but the cypress grove was dim and shadowy. At the far end, the branches trembled, but the monk was gone.

As the old monk had said, the wooden box contained only a fur-trimmed cloak and a water-damaged inscription. The ink on the inscription had run, but she could vaguely make out the date, indeed fifteen years prior.

After putting away the old monk’s carved bead, Ni Su used the flame from an oil lamp in the lotus pagoda to light the thick, dark cloak in a nearby bronze basin.

Flames gradually consumed the silver-threaded crane embroidery on the cloak. In the firelight, Ni Su discerned two embroidered characters on the cuff: “Zi, Ling…”

Almost as soon as she spoke, a copper bell tied to a colored rope behind the lotus pagoda, meant to warn people away from the landslide area, chimed softly.

Although it was May, a gust of wind, as if from the depths of winter, struck Ni Su’s face, stinging her cheeks. Dust rose from the basin, and she raised her hand to shield her eyes.

The ever-burning lamps inside the gold-lacquered lotus pagoda were all extinguished. The copper bell chimed again and again.

The wind howled, growing fiercer. Ni Su struggled to keep her footing, her vision blurring. A cold mist suddenly arose in the grove. The wind lessened slightly, and the sky darkened. A faint sound reached her ears.

Something cold and wet landed on her thin summer clothes. Ni Su’s eyes stung. Lowering her arm, she looked up.

If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, who would believe that in the middle of May, on a mountainside afternoon, the sky was ink-black and snow was falling.

Snowflakes landed on Ni Su’s dark hair. Her face was pale with cold, the tip of her nose slightly red. She stared in disbelief at the snow.

A chill crept up her spine. Instinctively, she wanted to flee, but the thick fog enveloped the dark cypress grove, muffling even the chanting from the temple.

Darkness fell swiftly. In her panic, Ni Su bumped into a cypress tree, scraping her nose. Without light, she couldn’t see where she was going. She called out for the monks, but no one answered.

Unease filled her heart. She groped her way forward.

Mountain wind, cold snow, and thick fog swirled around her.

The rustling sound of footsteps on grass approached.

A warm, yellow light spread across her skirt from behind. Ni Su looked down.

The snow fell heavier, like goose feathers.

Ni Su stared at the stationary light on the ground and turned around.

The fog had thinned considerably, snowflakes dusting the cypress branches.

The spreading warm light emanated from a single lantern in the distance. A tall figure stood beneath the branches. Almost the moment Ni Su turned, he moved.

She watched as he approached, the only source of light in this world the lantern he held. The warm glow illuminated his dark cloak.

A dark fur collar, sleeves shimmering with silver embroidery.

He had a pale, thin face, his hair dark and lustrous, his eyelashes thick and long. He walked barefoot, his clothes undisturbed by the wind, his shoulders untouched by the snow.

He drew closer, bringing with him the chilling air of snow.

Beneath the lantern light, he stopped, his gaze fixed on Ni Su’s pale, cold face.

Ni Su’s pupils contracted. Snowflakes landed on her cheeks. The cold wind brought on a roaring in her ears. She faintly discerned his clear, calm voice:

“Who are you?”

Chapter 2: Rain Rings (Part 2)

“How does Second Uncle know our family matters so clearly?”

Fine snow swirled outside the eaves. A female voice approached, slightly weak and breathless. Everyone in the hall turned to look towards the approaching group in the courtyard.

Supported by a maidservant, the young woman wore a light blue jacket and a frosty white skirt, her hair styled in three looped buns. A veiled hat obscured her face. Her steps were slow, as if she were ill.

“Ni Su, so you admit it?” Ni Zong lifted his chin, putting on the airs of an elder.

“Admit what?” Ni Su ascended the steps, coughing a few times. The taciturn Cen Shi glanced at the old steward following behind. The steward, standing outside the threshold, dared not enter, his back hunched as he wiped his sweat.

How could he possibly stop the young miss?

“Please forgive me, Second Uncle. I’m unwell and not fit to see guests, afraid of being impolite, so I had to appear like this.” Nanny Qian, beside Cen Shi, helped Ni Su sit down and gestured for a maidservant to bring a bowl of hot tea to warm her hands.

“You wore that veiled hat yesterday too!” Ni Zong’s daughter, Ni Mi Zhi, seeing her father’s glance, stood up and said, “I saw you when I was returning from our family’s estate and passed by Zao Hua Village. Don’t think I wouldn’t recognize you just because you’re wearing a veiled hat. I recognize your coachman and maidservant Xing Zhu!”

Ni Zong looked at Cen Shi, but seeing her silent as a clam, his face darkened. Just as he was about to speak again, the veiled young woman said, “Really? Who can testify?”

“You can’t condemn me based solely on your words. Can the peasant woman and the midwife corroborate your story? You passed by Zao Hua Village on your way back from your family’s estate, and I also pass by there on my way back from ours. I can’t deny having been there, but I won’t admit to anything else.”

“This…” Ni Mi Zhi pursed her lips. “Who would be as shameless as you, associating with those filthy, low-class people?”

She had considered finding witnesses, but the peasant woman had just given birth and was confined to bed, insisting that Ni Su had only stopped by to ask for a drink of water. The midwife, too, echoed the peasant woman’s story, denying that Ni Su had assisted with the delivery.

“By filthy, low-class people, are you referring to the peasant woman or the midwife?” Cen Shi suddenly fixed her gaze on Ni Mi Zhi and spoke coldly. “I don’t know what kind of family we are to utter such words and belittle others. Mi Zhi, when your mother gave birth to you, didn’t your family hire a midwife? Did you find her presence in your home to be filthy as well?”

Everyone in the hall couldn’t help but think of Ni Zong’s elder brother, Ni Zhun.

Five years ago, Ni Zhun, while providing free medical care to nearby villagers, was buried alive in a mudslide on his way back. The county government had sent a plaque inscribed with “Healing the World, Virtue and Purity” to Ni Zhun’s widow, Cen Shi.

Ni Zhun never looked down on poor farmers, and Cen Shi naturally couldn’t tolerate Ni Mi Zhi’s words. Seeing Ni Mi Zhi’s speechless expression, Ni Zong waved for her to sit down and softened his tone. “Sister-in-law, Elder Brother has always been kind-hearted, but kindness can sometimes be a curse. There’s no reason for a woman to inherit the medical profession. When Elder Brother was alive, he forbade Ni Su from studying medicine. Yet, she not only learned in secret but also followed in Ji Ming’s footsteps… I hope Sister-in-law understands my concern. Elder Brother used his life to restore our family’s reputation. Don’t let her foolishly ruin it again!”

Ji Ming was Ni Qinglan’s courtesy name.

Ever since he defied convention at sixteen and treated He Liu Shi for a private ailment, leading to her suicide due to gossip, the Ni family’s medical practice had declined sharply. It wasn’t until after Ni Zhun’s death and the arrival of the government’s plaque that their business improved.

“In a family of doctors, even if forbidden to study, it’s hard to avoid absorbing knowledge through observation. Second Brother, why be so nitpicky and bring up my Lan’er? Lan’er has now abandoned medicine for literature and is a proper scholar. Furthermore, Mi Zhi’s words lack evidence. How can you expect me to believe you?” Cen Shi fingered her prayer beads. “Your family knows that I’m not a doting mother. I’m stricter with A-Xi than you are with Mi Zhi. I know very well whether A-Xi has gone out to flaunt her half-baked medical skills or broken our family rules.”

Cen Shi spoke calmly and unhurriedly, without any sharpness in her tone.

However, Ni Zong’s face became quite unsightly. He could hear the underlying accusation in her seemingly calm words, implying that his family’s upbringing of their daughter was inferior.

She was also reminding him that her son was now a respected scholar in the county, and having gone to Yun Jing for the winter examinations, he might return with an official position.

It was a pity he couldn’t pry open the mouths of the peasant woman and the midwife. Even with money, he couldn’t sway them. He wondered what kind of spell Ni Su had cast on them.

“It’s not easy for Second Brother’s family to come all this way. If you don’t mind my simple fare, please join me for a meal,” Cen Shi said softly.

Ni Zong, who had arrived aggressively, was now filled with suppressed anger. He couldn’t bring himself to eat, so he simply excused himself with “I have matters to attend to at home” and left in a huff. Ni Mi Zhi, also unhappy, glared at the veiled Ni Su and quickly followed. Only Ni Zong’s son, Ni Qingwen, stood up slowly, took a bite of a pastry, his gaze lingering on Xing Zhu beside Ni Su until his mother, Liu Shi, nudged him. Then he hummed a tune and swaggered out.

“Sister-in-law…” Liu Shi didn’t dare linger. She called out to Cen Shi, wanting to speak but hesitating.

“Go back.” Cen Shi’s cold features softened slightly as she nodded to her.

Liu Shi could only bow and hurriedly leave.

The spring snow melted on the threshold, leaving puddles. The hall became much quieter. Cen Shi remained silent. Ni Su lifted her veil, stood up, walked forward a few steps, and knelt before Cen Shi.

Cen Shi looked down at her. “Did you really go yesterday?”

“Yes.” Ni Su lowered her head, her words clear, no longer the weak and breathless girl from before.

Cen Shi’s thin face was etched with fatigue. She struggled to stand but refused Ni Su’s help. Nanny Qian hurried to assist her. Cen Shi didn’t look at Ni Su, simply saying, “Then go kneel in the ancestral hall.”

Since Ni Zhun had forced Ni Qinglan to pursue a scholarly path, the person kneeling in the ancestral hall had changed from him to Ni Su. Sometimes it was because Ni Zhun discovered her secretly reading his medical notes, other times because she had snuck out to identify herbs in the mountains with herbalists.

As she grew older, she became better at hiding things. If Ni Zhun didn’t know, she knelt less often. This was the second time Ni Su had knelt in the ancestral hall since Ni Zhun’s death.

Ni Zhun’s memorial tablet had been added to the ancestral hall, and incense and candles constantly burned on the altar, filling the air with smoke.

“Fortunately, Miss, you saw Miss Mi Zhi’s carriage yesterday and spoke to the peasant woman and midwife beforehand,” Xing Zhu crouched beside Ni Su. “It was a close call. If Second Master had bribed them to change their story, it would have been bad.”

“Second Uncle is usually stingy, but he might have been willing to spend money on this matter. It’s just that those two refused to accept his money,” Ni Su said. Her legs were numb from kneeling for a while. She reached down to massage them, and seeing her frown, Xing Zhu quickly reached out to help.

“Why did they refuse?” Xing Zhu couldn’t understand.

Yesterday, when Ni Su was in that house helping the peasant woman deliver her baby, Xing Zhu hadn’t dared to enter and had waited outside. Looking at the courtyard and the thatched cottage, she thought they seemed extremely poor. How could they not need money?

“I have a good relationship with the midwife, and although I’m not close to the peasant woman, human hearts are made of flesh and blood. If you can see their difficulties, they can naturally see yours.”

Xing Zhu seemed to understand but still pouted. “But I don’t think that Miss Mi Zhi’s heart is made of flesh. She developed headaches after being punished at home. When she fainted in our private school, you kindly gave her acupuncture, but she went home and told on you, saying you were secretly studying medicine. Madam punished you by making you kneel in the ancestral hall that time too.”

Since then, Ni Zong had been constantly watching Ni Su for any transgressions.

“This time, when Madam asked you,” Xing Zhu’s voice lowered, close to Ni Su’s ear, “why did you tell the truth? If you had just brushed it off, you wouldn’t have to kneel in the ancestral hall.”

“I never lie to Mother.” Ni Su shook her head. “In the past, she didn’t ask. If she asks, I must tell the truth.”

Ni Su knelt in the ancestral hall for most of the day. By dusk, her knees were swollen, numb, and painful, making it difficult to walk. The old steward called a few maidservants to help Xing Zhu carry Ni Su back to her room.

Cen Shi didn’t ask or send Nanny Qian with medicine. Xing Zhu had to ask a servant boy to fetch some medicinal oil from the Ni family’s resident physician for Ni Su.

“Miss, it’s cold at night. Go to sleep early,” Xing Zhu said after applying the oil and returning from washing her hands. She saw Ni Su sitting at her desk, wrapped in a robe, her brush constantly moving, and gently urged her to rest.

“Brother will be back soon. I need to organize my findings from the past six months for him to see.” Two candles illuminated Ni Su’s fair and delicate profile. The ink-wet brush tip moved across the paper. “Compared to when he left, I’ve made more progress. I now have a better method for using medicine when the placenta doesn’t descend after childbirth.”

She was so engrossed in writing that she completely lost track of time. Xing Zhu came in, trimmed the candle wicks, and fell asleep on the soft couch. Ni Su got up, took a sip of cold tea, and draped a robe over Xing Zhu.

Later that night, Ni Su fell asleep at her desk. The candles burned until dawn, finally melting into puddles of wax and extinguishing their flames.

“Miss, a letter from Yun Jing!” A clear female voice suddenly came from outside the door.

Ni Su woke up with a start. She stood up, the robe she had been wearing falling to the floor. Xing Zhu, who had been curled up asleep, also woke up and hurried to help Ni Su dress and wash. “Miss, Young Master must have passed!”

If he hadn’t passed, they would have received him in person, not just a letter.

Ni Su, having knelt in the ancestral hall the day before, walked slowly. When she arrived at Cen Shi’s courtyard, she found the servants standing in the courtyard. The old steward’s face was pale as he paced anxiously on the stone steps.

Servant boys led several of the Ni family’s physicians past Ni Su, hurrying into Cen Shi’s room. Supported by Xing Zhu, Ni Su quickly approached. “What’s wrong with Mother?”

“Madam has fainted!” The old steward’s beard trembled, his eyes red-rimmed as he looked at Ni Su. “Miss, our Young Master… he’s missing!”

What? Ni Su’s mind reeled.

Chapter 1: Rain Rings (Part 1)

The wind and rain darkened the sky, and the fog dampened the lanterns.

A young man knelt with his robes trailing on the ground. As raindrops splattered against the threshold, a long whip cracked against his back, staining his clothes with a streak of blood. The tendons in his neck stood out, but he endured the pain in silence.

“How could I have raised such a wretch! Ni Qinglan, tell me, have you forgotten all the ancestral precepts?!” Another lash of the whip followed.

“I haven’t forgotten them all.” The young man’s words clashed with his formal and serious tone.

Ni Zhun, in his rage, turned even more livid upon hearing this. “What did you say! Do you know what they’re saying about you outside? They say you have an illicit relationship with that He Liu Shi, that you’ve been exchanging secret affections! You’ve completely disgraced our Ni family!”

“He Liu Shi is over thirty, and our Lan’er is only sixteen. Do you, my lord, also believe those rumors and gossips outside? He Liu Shi has been unwell since giving birth, suffering from constant lochia. Her husband’s family refused to seek medical treatment for her, so she had no other choice but to…”

“You’ve taught your son well!”

Cen Shi entered, her skirt barely brushing the threshold. Before she could finish her sentence, Ni Zhun turned and glared at her. “He’s a man, yet he dabbles in gynecology! Now he dares to treat He Liu Shi in secret while I’m away, completely disregarding the propriety between men and women! Now the He family is about to sue him, claiming he had an affair with He Liu Shi!”

Ni Zhun’s furious roar almost drowned out the thunder in the distance. The young girl, blocked by a maidservant outside the door, saw Cen Shi’s apricot-yellow skirt flutter slightly. Cen Shi’s tone remained calm: “Haven’t you already taken care of things with the county magistrate?”

“Zi Shu!” Ni Zhun seemed to have reached his limit, unable to bear the identical composure of the mother and son. “Do you even realize that by treating He Liu Shi, his reputation is ruined!”

“Is it a doctor’s duty to stand by and watch someone die?”

As Ni Zhun’s voice trailed off, he heard the young man speak again. He whirled around, whipping him several times. The sound of the whip against flesh grated on the young girl’s ears, but she didn’t hear a single sound from Ni Qinglan.

Cen Shi noticed her and glanced at the maidservant at the door. The maidservant immediately stepped out, picked up the girl, and before she could open her umbrella and step into the courtyard, the sound of hurried footsteps splashing through the rain grew closer. The maidservant looked up and saw the old steward, his hand shielding his head as he rushed towards them. Before even reaching the steps, he shouted, “Master! Something’s happened!”

Ni Zhun, still fuming, turned and scolded, “There’s no order left in this household!”

“Master…” The old steward trembled, lowering his hand as raindrops pelted his face. “The young servant sent to buy incense and candles said that He Liu Shi, unable to bear the humiliation from her husband’s family, has drowned herself in the river!”

Upon hearing this, Ni Zhun’s hand trembled, and the whip fell to the ground.

The night rain intensified. Cicadas, unable to withstand the downpour, fell silently beneath the trees.

The young girl watched as the blood-stained young man in the ancestral hall turned around, beads of sweat glistening on his temples and nose. The candlelight illuminated his stunned expression.

After a long silence, Ni Zhun looked again at Ni Qinglan kneeling on the ground. The anger on his face had vanished, replaced by a helpless mockery. “Boy, take a good look. You thought you were defying medical convention to save her, but you ended up harming her.”

Ni Zhun was too exhausted to beat him any further.

The night rain continued relentlessly. Ni Qinglan knelt in the ancestral hall for half the night, his knees numb. Suddenly, he heard a creaking sound. He came to his senses and turned his head. The usually serious young man couldn’t help but twitch the corners of his lips.

The little girl didn’t have the strength to fully push open the heavy wooden door, so she squeezed sideways through the narrow gap.

She had come in the middle of the night, her outer robe tied incorrectly. Ni Qinglan raised a hand towards her: “A-Xi, come here.”

Ni Su immediately and obediently ran to him, whispering, “Brother.”

Ni Qinglan absentmindedly hummed in response, retying her sash as he spoke. “Why aren’t you sleeping? What are you doing here? Didn’t you say you were afraid of the many ghosts in the ancestral hall?”

“That’s why I came to accompany you, Brother.”

Ni Su pulled over a cushion and squeezed in beside him, not daring to look at the rows of dark memorial tablets behind the altar.

“Brother, does it hurt?” She looked at the bloody welts on Ni Qinglan’s back.

“If it didn’t hurt, I’d be a ghost.” Ni Qinglan, wise beyond his years, pulled out a piece of oil-paper-wrapped malt candy from his sleeve and handed it to her. “Take this and go back.”

Ni Su took the candy, broke it in half, and held a piece to his lips. Then she placed the small pillow she had brought under his knees.

“You always hate hard pillows. Why would you give me your only comfortable one?” Ni Qinglan’s heart warmed. He reached out and stroked her head.

“Brother is in trouble, so of course I’m willing to.”

Ni Su looked up at him. “Nanny Qian said that if Brother admits his mistake, he won’t be beaten.” Nanny Qian was Ni Su’s personal servant.

“Does A-Xi also think I was wrong to save her that day?” Ni Qinglan ate the half piece of malt candy, his throat, dry from hours without water, raspy.

The day Ni Qinglan went out of the city to provide free medical care to the villagers, He Liu Shi, staggering, had stopped his carriage on the mountain path. The woman cried and writhed in pain, pleading, “Doctor, save me.”

Every step she took left a trail of blood. Ni Su, inside the carriage, saw the winding bloodstains behind her and lost her appetite for the pastries she was eating.

“She was in a lot of pain, but after Brother examined her and gave her the bitter medicine, she wasn’t in pain anymore.”

Ni Su remembered the woman holding the bitter medicine with joy, as if drinking honey water.

“But A-Xi,” Raindrops pattered against the window, and Ni Qinglan’s voice became more uncertain. “Did you hear today? She drowned herself in the river.”

Still only sixteen, Ni Qinglan couldn’t find a peaceful resolution when faced with such a situation.

“She wasn’t in pain anymore, why did she die?”

Ni Su, only eight or nine years old, didn’t fully understand the meaning of “death,” but she knew that when people died, they became the dark, thin memorial tablets behind the altar, bearing only names, no faces or voices.

“Because I, as a man, treated He Liu Shi for a woman’s private ailment.”

“But why can’t men treat women?” Ni Su, her hands cupping her face, asked innocently.

It wasn’t that men couldn’t treat women, but that they couldn’t treat private ailments.

However, Ni Qinglan didn’t have the heart to explain this to his little sister. He lowered his eyelids, the swaying shadows of the trees in the courtyard falling through the window screen onto the floor tiles in front of him. “Who knows why.”

The rain continued unabated.

Ni Su looked at her brother’s profile and suddenly stood up.

Ni Qinglan looked up, meeting his little sister’s clear, innocent eyes. She was so small, the lamplight falling on her shoulders. She said crisply, “Brother, I’m a girl. If I learn our family’s skills like you, can I make them not hurt and not die?”

Them.

Ni Qinglan was taken aback.

In the rain-swept ancestral hall, the young man looked at his little sister’s tender and innocent face. He smiled slightly and rubbed her head. “If A-Xi has such aspirations, they will certainly not hurt and will not die.”

The rain gradually subsided. With a final patter against the window, Ni Su, her temples damp with sweat, opened her eyes and woke up.

“Miss, did the noise wake you?” Xing Zhu, the maidservant who had just latched the vermillion window, turned and spoke softly. “It’s snowing outside. I was afraid the cold air would enter the room and you’d catch a chill.”

Although it was early spring, the weather hadn’t yet warmed after the recent New Year celebrations.

Seeing Ni Su nestled silently in the covers, Xing Zhu approached the bed with concern. “What’s wrong, Miss?”

“I dreamt of Brother.”

Ni Su seemed to have just woken up. She rubbed her eyes and sat up.

Xing Zhu hurriedly took clothes from the wooden rack to help Ni Su dress. “The winter examinations have been over for two months. With our Young Master’s abilities, he must have passed. The news should arrive soon!”

The journey from Yun Jing to Que County took more than two months, so news traveled slowly. Ni Qinglan had been away from Que County for half a year, and only a few letters had arrived home.

Dressed and washed, Ni Su left her room. The old steward, hunched over, came from the moon gate entwined with green branches, too preoccupied to wipe his sweat. “Miss, Second Master and his family are here. Madam asked you to stay in your room.”

He then waved to the young servants to hand the food box to Xing Zhu and added, “Madam won’t be joining you for breakfast either.”

“What is Second Master doing here at this hour?” Xing Zhu frowned and muttered.

The old steward only listened to Madam. Seeing that he didn’t respond, Ni Su knew that her Second Uncle’s visit boded ill; otherwise, her mother wouldn’t have asked her to stay in her room.

Green bamboos stood solitary by the courtyard wall. Spring snow drifted through the hall like fine dust. Cen Shi sat upright in the main hall. Nanny Qian, the servant beside her, offered a bowl of tea at the right moment. She accepted it but didn’t drink, the warmth of the bowl against her palm contrasting with her cold, indifferent voice. “So early in the morning, and on such a cold day, Second Brother brings his whole family to my widow’s quarters. Are you pitying my loneliness and wanting to add some liveliness?”

“Sister-in-law, things were busy during the New Year, and our family didn’t get together. We came today to make up for the New Year celebration together. What do you think?” Second Master Ni Zong, his eyes shifting, didn’t speak. Liu Shi, his wife, who always had a smile on her face, couldn’t bear the coldness in the room and hurriedly spoke in a conciliatory tone. However, as she turned, she saw Ni Zong glaring at her.

Liu Shi faltered and lowered her head.

Cen Shi watched them coldly and slowly said, “I’ve always eaten lightly here and haven’t prepared anything special. I don’t know if you and Second Sister-in-law will find it palatable.”

Liu Shi looked at Ni Zong, trying to decide whether she should respond, but saw him stand up and put down his teacup. “Sister-in-law, why don’t I see my little niece?”

“The young miss developed a fever before dawn. She took medicine and is still asleep,” Nanny Qian replied.

“A fever?” Ni Zong stroked his beard. “What a coincidence. She falls ill as soon as we arrive.”

“What are you implying, Second Master?” Nanny Qian took away Cen Shi’s lukewarm tea. “If the young miss weren’t ill, she would certainly come out to greet the guests.”

The words “greet the guests” were meant to remind Ni Zong that the second and first branches of the family had already separated.

Ni Zong snorted coldly and glared at her, then addressed Cen Shi. “Sister-in-law, I must say, you are too kind and lenient. Not only are your old servants unruly, but my niece is also becoming increasingly improper.”

“Do you know what Ni Su has been doing outside?” Ni Zong paced back and forth. “She’s been associating with those low-class midwives! What kind of family are we? What is her status? She has no sense of self-respect. Sister-in-law, tell me, if this gets out, what will outsiders think of our Ni family?”

“Second Master, you must have proof before making such accusations. It’s not right to slander our young miss without any basis,” Nanny Qian said, as Cen Shi remained silent.

“Who’s slandering her? Sister-in-law, you can call her out and ask her yourself. Did she go to Zao Hua Village yesterday? Did she help a peasant woman give birth at a farmer’s house, together with that midwife?” Ni Zong ignored the old servant and stared at Cen Shi. “Sister-in-law, I must say, why are you so protective of a daughter born of a concubine? You only acknowledged her as your own after her mother died. Do you really treat her as your own flesh and blood?”