The constable approached the nun, asking, “Venerable sister, why have you been lurking beneath this household’s walls for seven consecutive days? The owner is so frightened he’s reported it to the authorities.”
Nan Yan replied calmly, “You might not believe this, but I’m waiting for my mother to be born.”
Bewildered, the constable pressed, “Are you serious?”
“A monastic never lies,” she stated firmly.
The three constables exchanged glances, pondering her words. Finally, they shackled her, concluding, “This nun has lost her mind. Let’s take her to the temple for treatment.”
…
In the southern part of Kong Prefecture, an elderly official and his wife were blessed with a daughter late in life. A traveling monk bestowed upon her the name Rao, meaning “charming.” As she grew, her beauty blossomed, rivaling the moon and flowers. When she reached sixteen, the age for marriage discussions, her parents planned to find her a suitable match. However, an epidemic swept through the city, forcing families to isolate themselves until it passed.
Initially, the situation seemed manageable. But after some time, a powerful official arrived from the capital to oversee the epidemic response. Instead of focusing on his duties, he indulged in seeking out beautiful women. Hearing rumors of the Nan family’s daughter possessing unparalleled beauty, he began making inquiries at banquets.
Concerned for their daughter’s safety, the Nan couple, upon hearing these whispers, decided to send her to a temple outside the city. They hoped to keep her out of sight until the situation calmed.
“You’ll be staying at Qiya Temple,” they explained. “The abbot there is an old acquaintance of your father’s. He even held you as a child. When you meet him, be respectful and mind your manners. Only then will he offer you protection.”
At seventeen, Nan Rao had gained a reputation in Kong Prefecture’s matchmaking circles for being a flirt who never committed. When she first heard her parents’ plan to send her to the temple, she assumed it was to escape some scandal. It wasn’t until she was bundled into a carriage and taken out of the city that she realized her beauty had become a liability.
Her maid explained, “Miss, we might have to stay at the temple for three months. The master says that the official is currently preoccupied with the beauties offered by the prefect. Given our family’s status, if he remembers us later, it might be too late to escape.”
Nan Rao frowned. She had heard rumors about this official. Though sent to manage the epidemic, he had been in the prefecture for half a month without summoning doctors or requesting medicinal herbs from the court. Instead, he brought foreign monks who paraded through the streets with yellow banners, claiming to search for evil spirits. They found no spirits, but the death toll continued to rise.
“My parents worry too much,” Nan Rao mused. “If that official truly wanted to send me to the palace, how could our modest gentry family possibly resist?”
Her maid added, “They say he’s here to manage the epidemic, but he hasn’t called for doctors. Instead, he brought a group of mystic monks. Miss, it might be best to hide in the temple for a while. If we can’t avoid it, the master has contacted people at the funeral home to see if we can borrow a female corpse. You could fake your death for a few days until the official leaves, then return home.”
Nan Rao thought her parents’ plan was naive, given that the official was sent by the court to inspect the epidemic situation. However, with no better options, she reluctantly agreed to enter the temple.
The mountain temple was peaceful, and Nan Rao found it satisfactory. However, the nights were bitterly cold. Before dawn, she awoke shivering. She lit a candle and called for her maid, but received no response. Donning her shoes and socks, she ventured out to search.
As she stepped outside, she heard a faint bell chime from the temple’s rear courtyard. To her amazement, she saw golden bodhi leaves floating on the wind, descending into the lamp-lit world below. The miasma that had shrouded Kong Prefecture instantly dissipated.
Nan Rao rubbed her eyes in disbelief. When she looked again, the golden leaves had vanished. Only moonlight cascaded into the courtyard, making her wonder if she had imagined the entire scene.
Her curiosity piqued, she took her lantern and left her courtyard, heading towards where the bodhi leaves had appeared. Soon, she came upon a simple courtyard with a bodhi tree. Its leaves shimmered mysteriously in the darkness.
Intrigued, Nan Rao set her lantern on a nearby stone table and, drawing on her childhood mischief, swiftly climbed the tree. Parting the thick foliage, she peered closer, only to discover that the mysterious glow came from fireflies nestled among the branches.
“So that’s what it was,” she sighed, disappointed. As a cold breeze made her shiver, she prepared to descend. Suddenly, the fireflies took flight, and she heard the courtyard gate open.
Trapped, Nan Rao could only huddle among the dense leaves. As footsteps approached, she couldn’t resist peeking through the foliage.
What she saw left her stunned.
Below stood a figure that seemed more celestial than human. If not a deity, surely this was the work of a heavenly artist who had dipped their brush in the moonlight to create such an ethereal presence.
This divine being noticed the lantern on the stone table but appeared indifferent. Pausing briefly before the meditation room, they spoke softly before entering:
“The night grows deep, and the dew settles. If you wish to hear the dharma, return after dawn.”
Only after the door closed did Nan Rao snap out of her trance. A chilly breeze reminded her of her predicament, and she carefully climbed down, glancing back repeatedly as she left.
It was a long while before the light in the meditation room finally dimmed.
…
For the next three days, the Nan family’s maid was surprised to find her young mistress up earlier than herself, dressed and ready to attend the abbot’s dharma talks. This baffled many of the young monks with limited cultivation. It wasn’t until midday, when the food had nearly gone cold, that her mistress would return.
Perplexed, the maid asked, “Miss, what did the abbot discuss with you today? You’ve been smiling dreamily for nearly an incense stick’s burning time.”
Nan Rao, poking at her rice, sighed contentedly, “A stunning appearance and a graceful demeanor.”
The maid was horrified. “How could a monastic speak so frivolously? Don’t worry, Miss. I’ll go down the mountain right away and tell the master to bring you home!”
Nan Rao quickly grabbed her maid’s arm. “Calm down. I was describing the abbot.”
The maid was skeptical. “Miss, you must be joking. Didn’t you say all monks were bald?”
Nan Rao explained, “He’s not just some bald monk. Let me put it this way: you remember young Master Pan from the east side of the city? The one they call ‘Little Pan An’?”
The maid’s cheeks flushed. “Of course, I remember. Master Pan has proposed six times already. I know I don’t have a chance, but I’ve been hoping you’d eventually accept him so I could become a concubine.”
Such thoughts were common in those times. Nan Rao herself had often contemplated her future marriage, knowing her beauty was destined to cause trouble.
“Cuicui, I advise you to give up that idea,” Nan Rao said gently. “Remember when we attended Old Madam Qiu’s birthday celebration? Young Pan An was completely smitten, and I noticed his lecherous father eyeing me too. If you went to their house, it would be chaos. You’ve been with me for so long; being a mere concubine isn’t fitting. I’ll ask the city’s matchmakers to find you an honest man instead.”
The maid was alarmed. “But Miss, what will you do if I marry? Will new maids know about your sleepwalking habit of climbing trees?”
Nan Rao protested, “That tree-climbing incident was when I was eight years old!”
Tearfully, the maid continued, “A traveling fortune-teller said you were a bird in your past life, and your tree-climbing is an old habit. What if your in-laws scold you for this after marriage? Who will pull you down from trees at night if I’m gone? If word of your nighttime tree-climbing spreads, which young master in Kong Prefecture would dare to marry you?”
Nan Rao reassured her, “We can’t fully trust fortune-tellers. Besides, climbing a tree isn’t such a big deal. It’s just narrow-minded thinking. Abbot Jiming didn’t say anything about it.”
The maid finally understood Nan Rao’s recent strange behavior. “Miss, you haven’t… fallen for a monk, have you?”
Nan Rao, always one to push boundaries, replied, “To be honest, I’ve been thinking… I believe we must have had a relationship in our past life.”
The maid’s expression changed. She stood up, saying, “Miss, I’ll go make some tea.”
Nan Rao looked confused until she sensed a shadow falls over her. The monk she had just claimed to have a past-life connection with spoke softly, “Patron, you left a hairpin during today’s dharma talk.”
“Oh?” Nan Rao quickly stood to receive it, but Jiming merely extended his hand without offering the pin.
He continued, “I accidentally damaged it. My apologies.”
As Nan Rao prepared to brush it off politely, Jiming added, “I have some skill in repairing metal and stone. If you’re in a hurry, you can collect it from my quarters after the hour of hai.”
The hour of hai was late at night. Even in a Buddhist temple, such a rendezvous between a man and a woman could easily be misinterpreted. But Nan Rao didn’t see it that way. She felt that this man would maintain his dignity and purity even on a wedding night, making everything he said or did seem proper and leaving no room for misconceptions.
Nan Rao, being far from ordinary, was elated and filled with mischievous thoughts. “Then I’ll trouble the abbot with this task,” she replied eagerly.
After making the arrangement, Jiming maintained his serene demeanor and slowly returned to the dharma hall.
Earlier, the hall had been filled with disciples attending morning lessons. Now, only a young novice remained, striking a wooden fish. As Jiming sat down, the novice’s form shimmered and changed into a white-robed nun.
Nan Yan sighed softly, “Father, Mother didn’t drop her hairpin just now.”
Jiming replied calmly, “I know. I took it.”
Nan Yan continued, “Father, the hairpin wasn’t broken before.”
Jiming nodded, “I broke it.”
Nan Yan persisted, “Father, this isn’t right. Mother needs to experience the full cycle of birth, aging, sickness, and death over these decades for her soul to be complete.”
Jiming acknowledged, “It’s not ideal.”
Nan Yan pressed, “Father if you understand, will you stop stealing her things?”
After a brief silence, Jiming lowered his gaze and said, “I’ll continue to do so.”
Nan Yan was at a loss for words.
Finally, she said, “Father, your actions are making me uncomfortable.”
Jiming suggested, “Perhaps striking the wooden fish will help you feel better.”
“Oh, alright,” Nan Yan conceded.
The rhythmic sound of the wooden fish continued until dusk. Unable to convince her father to adhere to monastic precepts, Nan Yan left on her own, intending to discuss with her troublesome partner how to navigate the edges of Buddhist rules.
Meanwhile, Jiming sat alone in the courtyard, silently contemplating the broken hairpin.
That year, it seemed there were many words left unspoken, things he had wanted to say but couldn’t bring himself to express.
Now, there were many things he finally dared to say, but she could no longer understand.
Lost in thought until moonlight touched the treetops, Jiming was startled by deliberate, hushed movements outside the courtyard. He turned, momentarily taken aback.
Nan Rao’s mischievous face appeared over the low wall. Seeing Jiming’s gaze, she smiled awkwardly and whispered, “Forgive me, Abbot. My maid is strict and guards the main entrance…”
After a moment of silence, Jiming approached the wall and extended his hand. “Come,” he said simply.
The ethereal moonlight suddenly felt more tangible. Nan Rao’s heart raced as she nimbly climbed over, taking his hand to jump down. Her sparkling eyes traced his serene profile to his snow-white hair, her curiosity growing.
“Father always said you held me as a child and even named me, but meeting you doesn’t feel like meeting an elder,” she ventured. “If I may ask, how old are you?”
Jiming was at a loss for words. As he turned to walk away, Nan Rao followed, peppering him with questions.
“I came here to cultivate, but seeing you, I’ve lost all focus.”
“Are you truly a celestial being?”
“Even if not, with your grace, why become a monk?”
“Since I’ve entered the temple, I must be fated to meet you rather than Buddha. Would you give me a dharma name?”
Jiming paused. “I apologize, but… I’m no longer a monk. I can’t give you a dharma name.”
Puzzled, Nan Rao asked, “But didn’t you establish this mountain temple?”
“When one’s heart strays from Buddha’s teachings, it’s no different from leaving the monastic life,” Jiming explained, placing the repaired hairpin in her palm. “It’s not perfectly mended.”
Holding the pin, Nan Rao felt an inexplicable urge. “How can I thank you?”
After a moment, Jiming asked, “Can you brew wine?”
“My mother was a tavern keeper. Brewing isn’t difficult. But Abbot, have you forsaken your vows against alcohol?”
As moonlight slipped behind a cloud, Jiming softly replied, “For wine you brew, I’d make an exception.”
“…”
A month later, the Nan family’s maid could no longer ignore her young mistress’s frequent visits to a certain monk’s quarters, day and night. While running errands in town, she decided to return to Kong Prefecture by donkey cart, intending to ask Master Nan to move his daughter to a different temple to avoid scandal. However, upon arriving home, she discovered trouble had already found them.
That day, Jiming saw a note in the courtyard from Nan Rao, saying she’d gone to the peach blossom forest at the mountain’s foot to retrieve her brewed wine. As night fell with no sign of her return, he grew concerned.
Despite being one of the most accomplished cultivators of his time, able to divine others’ fortunes and misfortunes, Jiming couldn’t foresee events concerning himself. He extended his spiritual sense hundreds of miles from the mountain, his brow furrowing as he vanished from the temple.
Meanwhile, in Kong Prefecture…
“…Mother and Father have suddenly fallen ill with the epidemic. We left in such a hurry. Cuicui, please take this letter to the courier station and have them deliver it to the temple.”
Nan Rao had planned to meet Jiming today, but on her way back, she received news that her elderly parents had contracted the epidemic. Officials had surrounded their home, intending to take them to the quarantine area.
The incompetent official in charge of managing the epidemic had neglected the quarantine area, which had become a breeding ground for disease. Bodies were carried out daily. Although the Nan family was well-respected, when Nan Rao arrived in Kong Prefecture and saw an ornate palanquin blocking their gate, everything became clear.
The prefect’s sycophantic smile made her skin crawl. “Young Miss Nan, I have no choice. This epidemic is a serious matter. If we don’t send your parents to quarantine today, who will take responsibility when more people fall ill?”
As Nan Rao emerged from her carriage, gasps of admiration rippled through the crowd.
“My parents are elderly and cannot go to the quarantine area,” she stated firmly. “Why not speak plainly, sir? Do you want me to sell myself, or are you expecting a bribe?”
Though just a young woman, her fierce gaze made even those in power avert their eyes.
The noble from the capital laughed, stepping out of his palanquin. Approaching her, his eyes gleamed with desire. “What a remarkable beauty, far more interesting than those dull, submissive girls. Don’t worry, I won’t relegate you to a back courtyard. With your stunning looks, you should enter the palace as a consort and help me rise to power. What do you say?”
Nan Rao’s face remained impassive as she coldly smiled. “Is that so?”
“Of course, my elder sister is already a favored consort. You mustn’t surpass her,” the noble lowered his voice. “Except for bearing children, you can have everything. I’ll ensure your parents live out their days in comfort.”
For a moment, Nan Rao had a strange feeling that if she let her anger loose, everyone before her would meet a bloody end. It felt like an innate pride and power.
But in reality, she had no choice but to temporarily agree to the noble’s demands, leaving Kong Prefecture with his entourage.
For three nights, she tossed and turned sleeplessly until her maid suddenly arrived with good news—her parents weren’t ill with the epidemic but merely had colds. After the noble left, monks from the temple took them to the mountain to recuperate.
Revitalized by this news, Nan Rao immediately began packing to escape that night.
“Miss, are you still going to become a consort?” her maid asked.
“To hell with being his consort,” Nan Rao spat.
The pair moved quickly, slipping out of the inn during a guard change. They hadn’t gone far when Nan Rao was shocked to discover the foreign monks the noble had brought to drive out the epidemic gathered in a circle, performing some strange ritual.
They surrounded a formation made of glowing stones, with a small mound of corpses piled in the center. Upon closer inspection, Nan Rao realized these were the bodies of those who had died from the epidemic in Kong Prefecture.
Just as Nan Rao was about to retreat, her terrified maid let out a small cry, immediately drawing a monk’s attention.
“What demon dares disturb our ghost refinement?” the monk shouted, hurling fiery arrows at them. However, the arrows dissipated against an invisible barrier before reaching Nan Rao.
Surprised, the monk called out, “Brothers, look! Could this girl be a cultivator?”
The other monks probed with their spiritual sense. “No, she’s mortal… Wait, the hairpin in her hair seems to be a treasured object with an owner. How can a mortal possess such an item from the cultivation world? Kill her and take it.”
“What about the noble?”
“She’s just a mortal. We’ll compensate him with a new furnace later.”
Though Nan Rao didn’t understand their words, she knew her life was in danger. Closing her eyes, she saw the monks’ hands glowing with power as they surrounded her, ready to strike.
Moments passed, but she felt no pain. Opening her eyes, she saw her maid had fainted beside her, and they were both encircled by a wall of roaring flames. Beyond the fire, the once-arrogant monks now screamed in desperation:
“Spare us, Senior! We’ll never dare again! We… we’re backed by the great demonic sect of Si State! Please, have mer—Ahhh!”
Their voices vanished instantly. As the flames dissipated, Nan Rao saw Jiming’s figure emerge from the smoky haze.
She stood dazed for a moment, then stumbled towards him, supporting her maid. After a long pause, she stammered, “You…”
Jiming turned to look at her, seeming to have something to say.
Nan Rao’s expression turned to one of fear. “You’re not some Western Heaven Buddha, are you?”
Jiming replied, “Most people consider me a disgrace to Buddhism. My apologies.”
As Nan Rao’s composure began to crumble, wondering if she should abandon her months of scheming, Jiming suddenly swept her up in his arms and started walking back towards the temple.
After a tumultuous internal struggle, Nan Rao sighed, “Abbot, may I ask you a few questions?”
“Ask whatever you wish.”
“I’ll save most for later, but I have one for now.”
“Yes?”
“In our past life, did we truly have a forbidden love?”
After a moment of silence, Jiming answered, “If you want it in this life, you can have it.”
Like a dormant seed finally touched by sunlight, a faint red glow imperceptibly seeped into Nan Rao’s body. Her eyes gradually took on a familiar look.
“Jiming?”
“Mm.”
“Jiming?”
“What is it?”
“Nothing, just calling your name.” Nan Rao grinned, tilting her head to kiss him. “I’ve been accused of committing countless sins for half my life. This sin with you, I’m determined to commit. You don’t mind, do you?”
“Not at all.” Jiming’s usually calm eyes reflected her face as he softly added, “I… I like it very much.”
In the distance, temple bells rang out as dawn finally broke.