Master Pei visiting late at night, the abbot of Jietai Temple quickly climbed out of his warm bed.

The abbot was called Wukong, his smile utterly obsequious.

“Master Pei, you coming at this hour…”

“I heard you have osmanthus flowers here. I’m bringing people to admire them.”

Late at night;

Heavy snow falling;

Admire flowers?

No wonder Master Pei hadn’t invited him to entertainment houses recently—turns out he’d switched to the refined and elegant route.

Wukong smiled: “Master Pei, Master Xie, please follow me.”

Huang Qi had received two knuckle raps and learned his lesson this time. “Third Master, shall I carry you?”

Wukong: “Master Xie’s legs are injured. Our temple has wheelchairs. Would you like…”

“Yes!”

The wheelchair was brought. The group headed toward the temple’s depths.

The osmanthus was in the temple’s back garden—not really a large grove, just a dozen or so trees in the back garden. But along the path to the back garden, there was tree after tree.

Imagine when the flowers bloomed in August—how far could that subtle fragrance drift?

Yan Sanhe asked: “When were these osmanthus trees planted?”

Wukong was startled.

“This is Miss Yan. Whatever she asks, you answer.”

Pei Xiao’s tone became stern. “Answer truthfully, don’t hide anything.”

Wukong quickly pressed his palms together toward Yan Sanhe. “Miss Yan, these osmanthus have been here since the day Jietai Temple was founded—roughly over a hundred years.”

Yan Sanhe: “In August when osmanthus blooms, are there many people who come to the temple to admire flowers?”

Wukong: “Not many come to admire flowers.”

Yan Sanhe: “Why?”

“Osmanthus isn’t rare. Not to mention noble families, even ordinary households plant one or two.”

Wukong smiled: “Besides, osmanthus isn’t like other flowers—nothing much to see, only a subtle fragrance.”

Yan Sanhe: “The Zhu Manor that oversees the Directorate of Astronomy—has the abbot heard of it?”

Both in the capital, and the Zhu Manor was illustrious, Wukong quickly nodded: “Naturally I’ve heard of it.”

Since he’d heard of it, Yan Sanhe asked directly.

“Would the previous head of the Zhu Manor, Zhu Xuanjiu, come here to admire osmanthus?”

“This…”

Wukong thought for a moment. “I haven’t heard of it.”

Yan Sanhe: “Who tends this osmanthus grove? Call him here.”

Wukong quickly glanced at the young monk behind him. The young monk took off running.

Very quickly.

The young monk brought the person—a monk in his early twenties.

Yan Sanhe was about to ask his name when the monk, having clearly already heard from the young monk about the person they wanted to inquire about, spoke up:

“Master Zhu came to the temple every late August to admire the osmanthus.”

As expected!

Yan Sanhe was delighted and looked down at Xie Zhifei.

Xie Zhifei noticed and looked up, nodding to signal her to continue questioning.

Yan Sanhe looked up. “How should I address you, master?”

“Yuchen.”

“How does Master Yuchen know this?”

“At first, I didn’t pay attention.”

Yuchen: “Once when he was thirsty, he asked me for tea. I brewed him a pot of tea from leaves I’d grown myself. He said it was fragrant. Before leaving, he told me not to go near the water recently—there would be disaster.”

But he didn’t believe it.

As a result, on the Double Ninth Festival in September, when he was carrying water, his foot slipped and he fell into the pond.

“The next year when he came again, I recognized him at once. Back and forth, I learned his identity.”

“Did he come alone?”

“Alone.”

“What about servants?”

“Female benefactor, no servants—just him alone.”

“How long would he generally stay?”

“Each time he’d ask me for a cup of tea. After drinking, he’d leave. When in good spirits, he’d also chat with me casually.”

Yan Sanhe: “What would you chat about?”

Yuchen: “Discuss Buddhist scriptures and such.”

Yan Sanhe: “Nothing else?”

Yuchen: “Nothing else.”

Bringing no servants;

Alone;

Year after year;

Clearly this osmanthus grove was a secret belonging to Zhu Xuanjiu alone.

Since ancient times, flowers have symbolized women.

Peonies for wealth and nobility;

Lotus for purity;

Orchids for tranquility…

Each type of flower reflects a woman in this world.

What woman did the osmanthus reflect?

Standing beneath this osmanthus grove, who would Zhu Xuanjiu be thinking of and remembering?

Yan Sanhe: “Master Yuchen, besides Master Zhu, who else comes every year to see this osmanthus grove?”

Yuchen was stunned, his hand pausing on his prayer beads.

Yan Sanhe watched his expression and asked tentatively: “Is there a woman who also comes yearly to see this osmanthus grove?”

Yuchen thought for a long time, then shook his head.

Yan Sanhe was unwilling to give up: “Think again?”

Yuchen still shook his head.

“Miss Yan, osmanthus doesn’t need to be seen—it needs to be smelled. No one would specifically come to our temple just to admire osmanthus. A few months ago, there was a female benefactor who walked around under the trees a few times.”

Yan Sanhe: “What did she look like? What age?”

“Monks dare not stare at female benefactors. Just a quick glance, only saw roughly.”

Yuchen: “Around twenty years old, very dignified. Clearly the mistress of a wealthy family.”

Yan Sanhe looked down at Xie Zhifei.

Xie Zhifei silently mouthed three words: It’s sister-in-law.

Yan Sanhe’s expression showed some disappointment.

“How about… we go see the main hall?” Xie Zhifei consoled gently. “We’re already here anyway.”

The main hall?

Yan Sanhe’s heart stirred.

Madam Mao had said their first meeting was in the main hall.

“Let’s go take a look.”

…

Candles still burned in the main hall.

The young monk tending the incense burner saw the abbot bringing people and quickly lit several more oil lamps.

Entering the main hall, Yan Sanhe’s gaze swept around, then she circled the hall once before stopping at the rear hall.

The rear hall had a long table with an incense burner, with fruits and pastries offered before it.

Three cushions were placed before the table for common people to kneel in worship.

This should be where Zhu Xuanjiu and Madam Mao first met.

Yan Sanhe pointed to the Buddha statue at the head: “Which Buddha is enshrined here?”

Pei Xiao looked up. “Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva.”

Yan Sanhe: “What kind of Bodhisattva is Ksitigarbha?”

“Now there’s a story to tell.”

Young Master Pei adopted the posture of a storyteller.

“In Buddhist scriptures, Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva was entrusted by Shakyamuni Buddha to vow that between Shakyamuni’s passing and Maitreya’s arrival, he would save all beings in the six realms of existence, rescue them from suffering, and only then become a Buddha.

In his past lives, he had several times rescued his mother from suffering in hell.

Therefore, he’s recognized as embodying the virtues of ‘great filial piety’ and ‘great vows,’ and is thus honored by the world as ‘Great Vow Ksitigarbha Bodhisattva.'”

“Young Master Pei.”

Li Buyan gave him a thumbs up. “Not bad!”

What kind of talk is that?

Young Master Pei glared at her, very dissatisfied. It should be “very good.”

Just then, Yan Sanhe suddenly lifted her robe and knelt on the cushion, slowly closing her eyes.

“Miss Yan, I was twelve years old and didn’t believe in gods or Buddhas. While Mother worshiped in the front, I couldn’t sit still and wandered to the back of the Buddhist hall.

I saw a young master in white robes, palms pressed together, kneeling on a cushion with eyes closed, lips moving in prayer.

That young master was extremely handsome—red lips, white skin. I thought to myself, what troubles could a ten-year-old noble young master have that required worshiping the Bodhisattva?

I pricked up my ears to secretly listen to what he was saying. He was praying to the Bodhisattva to protect his birth mother’s safety.”

Yan Sanhe replayed Madam Mao’s words in her mind again and again.

Wait.

She suddenly raised her head, looking directly at Pei Xiao: “What did you just say?”

Young Master Pei was startled.

What did I just say?