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 His eyes were clear as dew, reflecting the faint sunlight, yet cold, as cold as the fingers he had just withdrawn.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.”
Leave a Reply