On the other end, Song Chuyi stood beneath the long corridor of Qingxu Temple, pausing her steps to gaze at the altar hung with soul-summoning banners in the distance. Her eyes traced from these items toward the distant pine forest that rolled like ocean waves, her gaze deep and far-reaching.
She looked through her five fingers at the overwhelming light pouring down, then through the gaps between her fingers at the enormous soul-guiding banner bearing Song Linlang’s name and at Xiang Mingzi, who was sobbing so hard she could barely catch her breath. She let out an extremely light sigh, hoping only that her aunt and mother could both be like her—and if the gods and Buddhas had eyes, may they grant them a new beginning in the next life or in whatever world she did not know.
Song Yan finished discussing with the temple’s master the timing for tonight’s ritual, then returned to stand beside Song Chuyi. Following her gaze, he spotted Xiang Mingzi kneeling on the ground and slowly reached out to grasp her hand. “Don’t be afraid. It’s all in the past.”
The day Song Chuyi had perceived that Song Yan had grown up, she had told him exactly and completely about what made her different from ordinary people. This time it was no excuse about dreams—facing her closest younger brother, she felt there was nothing to hide. She told him about her experiences in her previous life in complete detail. She thought that once she finished telling it, these old matters would be no different from a dream. Once the dream was over, from then on there would only be a broad and open path ahead.
Therefore, with Song Yan saying such words, Song Chuyi turned back to smile at him. “Yes, I know. It’s all in the past.”
The siblings had just been speaking when Qin Ying came running from the other end of the corridor, panting and looking for Song Yan, his tone panicked and his face pale. “Master Qingfeng has disappeared!” He paused, gasping for breath, bending at the waist with both hands on his knees, lifting his head to look at Song Chuyi and Song Yan. “He sent me down the mountain to buy him roast goose, but when I returned, he was gone. I’ve searched the entire mountain—there’s just no sign of him.”
Master Qingfeng loved the layout of Qingxu Temple, often saying it had excellent feng shui. He also loved the mountain spring on the temple grounds that splashed down from the high cliff face, forming a beautiful, crystal-clear emerald lake below—a sight of surpassing beauty. Therefore, when Xiang Mingzi wanted to come here to hold a memorial service for her deceased mother this time, Song Yan naturally had to come along as escort, and Master Qingfeng had insisted on coming too.
The expressions of both Song Chuyi and Song Yan darkened simultaneously. Master Qingfeng was not someone without sense—he would never play such a trick of disappearing without cause. She furrowed her brow and asked him, “Have you had Superintendent Qin search? Still haven’t found him?”
Qin Ying shook his head, so anxious he was practically ready to claw at the walls. “No! My father led people and they’ve practically turned Qingxu Temple upside down. We’ve questioned everyone too. Even the lakeside pavilion where the master usually likes to go—we searched there, but there’s no trace!”
People couldn’t just vanish into thin air, could they? Song Yan already knew something was wrong. He turned back to look at Song Chuyi. “I’ll go take a look.” Master Qingfeng was no ordinary person—Changning Earl’s manor treated him as an honored guest, and he had also promised to care for Master Qingfeng in his old age and see to his funeral arrangements as his last disciple. If something happened to Master Qingfeng, never mind what others might say—his own conscience wouldn’t allow it.
Song Chuyi’s feet shifted slightly, following him for a couple of steps, then suddenly stopped. She turned back to look at Xiang Mingzi, who was still crying heartbrokenly, then gazed deeply at Song Yan, reaching out to straighten his collar and gently nodding. “Go then. Be careful in everything.”
Song Yan nodded hurriedly in agreement, then turned and jogged away, disappearing around the corner. Only then did Song Chuyi turn and walk toward Xiang Mingzi. She helped the prostrate Xiang Mingzi to her feet, reached out to take the handkerchief Qing Ying handed her, and carefully wiped all the tears from her face. Holding her hand, she paused silently before asking, “Are you afraid?”
At this seemingly random question, Xiang Mingzi immediately understood. Her hands were still trembling slightly, but she gripped Song Chuyi’s hand tightly and shook her head firmly. “I’m not afraid. Don’t worry about me.”
Song Chuyi pressed her lips together and gently patted the back of her hand. “I’ll have Qing Luo and Han Yan stay here to keep you company.”
Xiang Mingzi bit her lip and shook her head rapidly. “That won’t do! You’re in far more danger than I am. They need to stay by your side—only then will I feel at ease!” She looked at Song Chuyi. She was actually afraid, but she forced herself not to show it in the slightest. “Didn’t we agree before we came? Back then, Cousin Cui could follow you through wind and rain. Surely I can’t show myself to be timid, can I? Just go ahead without worry. I may lack other abilities, but I certainly have the capability not to cause you trouble.”
Song Chuyi wouldn’t let her say more, lowering her voice to persuade her. “How could I be worried about you causing me trouble? I’m just trying to think of everything as thoroughly as possible. If something happens to you, would I be able to rest easy? Don’t think that just because they’re planning to deal with me and Yan, you’ll be fine. There are too many unpredictable things in this world. Only if they’re here with you can I feel at ease.” As she spoke, she was already instructing Qing Luo and Han Yan to stay behind, giving Xiang Mingzi a few more reminders before leading Qing Ying and Qing Tao to walk quickly outside.
She soon led her people to the main hall of Three Pure Ones Hall, but didn’t see Song Yan. Changquan, whom Cui Yingshu had recently sent to Song Yan, came forward. Glancing at the Taoist priests bustling back and forth behind him, he bowed respectfully to Song Chuyi. “Miss, just now a young priest said that Master Qingfeng went to the mountain peak to look for some kind of black fish. The Fourth Young Master has already taken people to search for him.”
Song Chuyi raised her eyebrows and surveyed her surroundings. “Which young priest was it? Do you remember?”
Changquan was clever. Compared to Cui Shaoting’s training of people, which focused on those who had rolled through battlefields, the people Cui Yingshu selected were much gentler—all possessing particular skills and having come to pledge their loyalty in the Jin region with written documents. These people’s fathers had already begun serving the Cui household, so their loyalty to the Cui family was beyond question. The Cui family was also willing to spend money for them to learn skills, so each one had outstanding qualities.
Changquan’s particular trait was exceptional cleverness and especially outstanding memory. Hearing this, he immediately nodded. “I remember. He said he works burning fires at the kitchen and happened to see the master when returning from gathering firewood. If you want to ask him something, I’ll go find him.”
The smile on Song Chuyi’s face deepened, and she gave him a slight nod. “No need. Since it’s at the mountain peak, I’ll go look for Yan. You go remind the Taoist masters again, tell them they absolutely must not let any idle people enter. Both Cousin and I are unmarried young ladies—if any gossip were to spread, it would be no joke.”
All around them, Taoist priests carrying ritual implements and holding lanterns moved about continuously. Changquan immediately bowed in acknowledgment. “Rest assured, the Taoist masters are all clever people. I’m sure they understand in their hearts.”
Qing Ying also glanced around. Clever people were indeed clever—perhaps too clever. But she said nothing, looked at Changquan, and turned to follow Song Chuyi.