The flame light from the lantern stung her eyes until they felt dry. The dizziness caused by the ear-ringing made Ni Su’s steps stumble—she couldn’t stand steady. Her knees went soft, but someone grasped her wrist.

Extreme cold from his fingertips wrapped around her wrist bones. It was a yin cold more severe than ice and snow. Ni Su couldn’t help but shudder. She struggled to steady herself and looked up: “Thank you…”

Her voice was tight from the cold. Her gaze touched his face—such a pair of eyes, clear as dew drops, touched by spring light, only too cold, as cold as his fingers that had just withdrawn.

Just like midsummer snow falling, there was a kind of mysterious, withered beauty.

The lantern illuminated the gold-lacquered lotus pagoda with flickering light. His gaze fell upon it. Mountain wind stirred the copper bells into chaotic ringing. He looked at that lotus pagoda as if touching some distant memory. In his cold eyes there was still not a trace of bright divine light. He merely turned his face and asked her: “Is this place Great Bell Temple?”

Ni Su felt extremely strange inside. She was about to speak when suddenly her pupils constricted.

Sparkling light like stars and fireflies floated behind him. They gathered together one by one, gradually transforming into a hazy shadow.

“Elder brother!”

Ni Su cried out involuntarily.

The sparkling light illuminated the man’s pale, flawless profile. He glanced silently behind him. The phantom instantly shattered, the crystalline light also crushed into the wind and snow.

Large goose-feather snowflakes drifted down lightly, yet at the moment they were about to land on him, they were blown away by mountain wind. He remained perpetually untouched by snow.

Ni Su’s gaze also followed the falling snowflakes. The lamplight trembled and trembled. She discovered that the silver-threaded embroidery on his cloak floated ethereally on clouds, wings about to take flight.

The character marks at the cuff edge flickered faintly.

Zi Ling.

“You…” The weather was cold and snow heavy. Ni Su didn’t know where the copper basin she had used earlier had gone, but she could still smell the ash and dust remaining in the mountain wind. The yin cold embedded in her bones grew heavier. Fearing she had seen wrong, she instinctively reached out to touch his sleeve.

At this touch, there was no tangible feeling.

Cold wind passed through Ni Su’s fingers. She watched as the young gentleman before her, who had been calmly gazing at her all along, dissolved in an instant into indifferent mountain mist.

He disappeared.

Ni Su’s hand froze in midair, numb from cold. Snow continued falling, but the sky dark as ink showed signs of brightening.

The chanting in the mountain temple had stopped for a while now.

The old abbot and monks gathered outside the great hall, exclaiming in wonder repeatedly.

“Why did snow suddenly fall out of nowhere?”

A young novice monk looked up.

“This is not a good omen.” Someone said.

The old abbot shook his head, chanted “Amitabha,” and suppressed their discussion: “Don’t speak nonsense.”

The young novice monk on gate duty today was extremely annoyed by this strange weather. His monk’s robe was thin—how could it defend against this winter-like cold? Just as he was pondering whether to return to his meditation room to find a winter garment to wear, he heard urgent, panicked knocking at the door.

The young novice monk jumped in fright and quickly opened the temple door to peer out.

The female benefactor outside—he had seen her before. She was the one who had come to the temple to fetch a peace talisman not long ago. Only now her hair was damp with sweat, her dress and skirt stained, her complexion deathly pale.

“Female benefactor, what happened to you?”

The young novice monk was astonished.

“Young master, I need to find the old dharma master who gave me the peace talisman.” Ni Su was extremely cold. Her voice trembled faintly as she spoke.

Though the young novice monk didn’t understand why, he still invited her into the temple.

“The temple’s lessons have stopped?”

Entering the temple, Ni Su didn’t hear chanting.

“Originally there was still one tea interval remaining. It’s just that we suddenly encountered this sky-obscuring, sun-blocking snow spectacle, so it ended earlier.” The young novice monk answered while leading Ni Su forward.

One tea interval.

Ni Su couldn’t move her steps anymore.

She clearly remembered in the cypress forest that old dharma master had told her the temple’s lessons today would last until dusk.

“Uncle Master Huijue, this female benefactor has come looking for you.”

The young novice monk’s voice rang out. Ni Su instinctively raised her head.

That Huijue had a corpulent figure, kind eyes and a blue-black beard. He walked over with a smile, chanted “Amitabha,” and said: “Female benefactor returns after leaving—is there an error with the peace talisman?”

“You are Huijue?”

Ni Su found it hard to believe.

Huijue didn’t understand. He exchanged glances with the young novice monk, pressed his palms together, and said peacefully: “This humble monk is Huijue.”

“Female benefactor, didn’t you just see Uncle Master Huijue? How can you not recognize him now?” The young novice monk was somewhat puzzled.

Ni Su instinctively retreated one step, two steps.

Her complexion grew even paler.

At this time the sky had returned to clear brightness. This Buddhist temple was ancient and majestic, sunlight falling on the eaves like gold lacquer.

Wrong, all wrong.

The one who handed her the peace talisman in the temple was that old monk with snow-white curled beard. Whether in figure, face, or voice, he and this Huijue before her eyes had not the slightest resemblance.

The mountain temple was full of divine Buddhas, yet at this moment they couldn’t give Ni Su any peace of mind. This snow, this temple, these people—twisted into an absurd, bizarre rope strangling her throat.

Huijue saw her soul had left her body. His voice carried concern: “Today we encountered strange snow, cold as if it were the depths of winter.”

He turned to the young novice monk: “Quickly go find a cloak for the female benefactor.”

The young novice monk was about to nod when he saw the female benefactor suddenly turn and run. He called after her several times from behind, but it only spurred her steps even faster.

“Today not only is the snow strange, people are also strange…”

The young novice monk touched his bald head, muttering in a low voice.

Heavy snow filled the entire day. The whole of Que County city was covered in a layer of white. In teahouses, wine shops, and between streets and alleys, many people discussed this strange snow.

After Ni Su returned home from Great Bell Temple, she fell ill.

Her high fever wouldn’t break. Every day Nanny Qian had to attend to Cen Zishu while also coming to her courtyard to check on her constantly. Every one of the resident physicians at the Ni family’s medical practice came to examine Ni Su’s illness. The medicinal decoctions they prescribed were largely similar.

Cen Zishu dragged her sick body to visit once. After listening to several physicians discuss fever-reducing prescriptions, no expression could be seen on her wax-yellow, gaunt face.

At night, hearing Nanny Qian say Ni Su’s high fever had broken, Cen Zishu said nothing but very lightly breathed a sigh of relief before opening her mouth to drink the spoonful of medicinal juice Nanny Qian ladled.

Only on the third day did Ni Su regain consciousness. Xing Zhu wept with joy while carefully using her embroidered handkerchief to wipe the sweat beads from Ni Su’s forehead, saying: “Miss, are you thirsty? Are you hungry?”

Ni Su reacted slowly. Only after a good while did she shake her head: “Where is Mother?”

Her voice was extremely hoarse.

“Miss, don’t worry. Madam is better.” Xing Zhu brought a bowl of hot tea to feed her.

Actually Xing Zhu couldn’t go to Cen Zishu’s courtyard. She had only heard the old steward say that today Cen Zishu could get out of bed, so she assumed Cen Zishu’s illness had improved.

Who knew that after Ni Su had only recuperated for a day or two, Cen Zishu began coughing up blood.

If Ni Zong hadn’t gotten wind and come, if Cen Zishu hadn’t been unconscious and unable to rise, if Nanny Qian had no other choice but to come to Ni Su’s courtyard—Ni Su would likely still be kept in the dark.

“Your wind-cold illness hasn’t fully recovered yet. These past days you’ve had to deal with your second uncle while also attending me—you’ve suffered.” Cen Zishu watched Nanny Qian carry out the basin of water stained red with blood. Her gaze returned to fall on the daughter before her. She had just vomited blood; her throat was hoarse.

“Daughter hasn’t suffered.” Ni Su grasped Cen Zishu’s hand. “Mother has suffered.”

Cen Zishu tugged her lips. It couldn’t be called a smile. She had never been one to smile. “These past days, while I was sleeping, you should have secretly taken my pulse, right?”

Ni Su fell silent. She was about to stand when Cen Zishu gripped her hand tightly.

“You don’t need to kneel before me.”

Cen Zishu’s eye sockets were deeply sunken, exhaustion at its extreme. “Now I don’t avoid having you prescribe medicine and examine illness. You’ve also taken my pulse. With this body of mine, how many more days I can hold on—you already know in your heart.”

Ni Su met her gaze. “Mother…”

“In our family, women cannot have this kind of aspiration.” Cen Zishu leaned against the soft pillow. As she spoke, her chest rose and fell. “Your father beat you, punished you, but your temperament is stubborn. Even after suffering pain and hardship, you refused to yield.”

“I know—it’s all because Lan’er taught you.”

When Cen Zishu mentioned Ni Qinglan, her pale lips finally had some soft curve.

“…You knew?”

Ni Su murmured, astonished.

“If Lan’er hadn’t taught you everything he learned, how much could you have stolen just from secretly learning at the medical practice? Your father originally guarded against you like guarding against a thief.” Though Cen Zishu was so ill she had no strength, mentioning these matters gave her a bit of spirit. “Ever since he was sixteen and diagnosed He Liu Shi’s illness, after He Liu Shi threw herself into the river and died, your father forced him to study literature. He then secretly taught you while keeping you by his side. Once when he was teaching you to memorize medicinal formula verses, I was outside the study door.”

Ni Su had originally thought she and her brother had concealed it well. People in the household only knew she secretly studied medicine improperly and constantly received punishment from her father, but didn’t know her brother had been teaching her all along.

Even less had she expected that Cen Zishu, who had always opposed her studying medicine, had actually discovered her secret with her brother long ago but hadn’t exposed it before her father.

She was not Cen Zishu’s biological flesh and blood, yet Cen Zishu had never mistreated her in the slightest. She acknowledged her as her own, truly raising her as a biological daughter. But Cen Zishu always wore a cold face and spoke little. She was born with a kind of distance that blocked intimacy. Therefore, though Ni Su had respected and loved her since childhood, she couldn’t be as comfortable as that mother-daughter pair Ni Mizhi and Liu Shi.

Actually Cen Zishu wasn’t only like this toward her—it was Cen Zishu’s nature that made her difficult to approach. Even for Ni Qinglan, the interactions between this biological mother and son were also plain.

“Did your brother ever tell you why he, a young man, originally wanted to specialize in women’s medicine?”

“No.” Ni Su shook her head in a daze, uncontrollably thinking of the cypress forest at Great Bell Temple, that young man wearing a black cloak with a slender frame.

In that strange light behind him, she had briefly seen Ni Qinglan’s shadow.

Cen Zishu slowly sighed: “He’s a filial child. After giving birth to him, I developed some hidden illness. Originally it wasn’t anything serious, but who knew that as years passed, the illness became more severe. You also know that most physicians in this world don’t understand women’s medicine and look down on it. Your father was the same. I was unwilling to tell him about my condition.”

“But this illness truly became harder and harder to endure. Once when I really couldn’t bear it, Lan’er saw. He was still a child then. Facing my own son, I truly found it difficult to speak. But his temperament is stubborn. When I refused to speak, he wanted to find his father to diagnose my illness. I had no choice but to tell him his father couldn’t treat this illness and couldn’t treat it.”

“But he took it to heart and actually went out to find a medicine woman, secretly bringing her back to examine my illness.”

In the current times, the three aunts and six grannies were thoroughly lowly people. Medicine women were one of the six grannies, mostly selling medicine to women with hidden ailments in the countryside. They had no proper reputation and were scorned by others.

At such a young age, Ni Qinglan had run to the village alone to find a medicine woman to come diagnose Cen Zishu’s illness.

“Your birth mother was a woman with a bitter fate. She gave birth to you but couldn’t raise you.” Mentioning that gentle, obedient woman, Cen Zishu’s expression was peaceful. “When she gave birth to your younger brother, it was difficult labor. The midwife had no solution. Your father actually couldn’t bear to let your birth mother and your brother just disappear like that. But he didn’t understand women’s medicine. Even setting aside those proprieties and entering the room, he couldn’t save either of their lives.”

Cen Zishu studied Ni Su: “You were very small then, crying terribly. Even when Lan’er bought you sesame candy, he couldn’t console you.”

“A’Xi,”

Cen Zishu said: “Your brother dared to violate the great taboo of physicians—first for me, second for you. He couldn’t bear to see me suffer from hidden illness, nor could he bear your pain of losing your mother. Because of you and me, he developed this rare compassionate heart toward women in the world. Naturally he also couldn’t bear to see other women suffer torment from hidden ailments.”

Unfortunately, the first time Ni Qinglan truly diagnosed a woman’s illness became the last time.

“He devoted himself to this path, yet was not tolerated by others.”

“A’Xi, actually I should thank you. In his youth he was already engulfed by rumors and gossip. Forced by your father to abandon medicine for literature, you dared to continue his aspiration—this is probably the only comfort in his heart these years.”

Hearing Cen Zishu’s words, Ni Su remembered that rainy night years ago, the words she and her brother had spoken in the ancestral hall.

“Mother, when you recover, I’ll go to Yun Jing to find elder brother.”

Ni Su said softly.

“Why wait? The people we sent to Yun Jing have had no news until now. You might as well go now.”

“Mother?”

Ni Su looked up in shock, then shook her head: “You want me to abandon you now and go to the capital—how can I feel at ease?”

“Your brother’s life or death is unknown—can you and I feel at ease?” As Cen Zishu spoke, she began coughing. After recovering for quite a while, she broke free from Ni Su’s hand gently patting her back and called Nanny Qian in.

“A’Xi, I made you kneel in the ancestral hall because your father never wronged you in any way. In his heart you were as important as Lan’er. It’s just that he had his principles. You disobeyed him, disobeyed the Ni family rules—you should have knelt before him and his family’s ancestors.”

Cen Zishu touched her face: “Don’t blame me.”

Ni Su’s eyes grew hot. She knelt down: “Mother, I’ve never blamed you. I know you’ve been good to me.”

“Good child.”

At this point, Cen Zishu couldn’t hide her tears either: “You also know I only have these few days left. Watching over me is not as good as going to find your brother for me. Before your father died, he fought for a good reputation. The plaque the county office sent is in our home. These years your second uncle, constrained by me as a chaste widow, hasn’t dared to shamelessly openly seize the first branch’s family wealth. But now your brother’s whereabouts are unknown. They also know my health is poor. Once I pass away, how can you, a lone daughter, defend against your second uncle’s wolfish ambition?”

“Without a male heir, those people outside won’t care about these matters. Because you’re a daughter, there’s no reason for you to inherit the Ni family estate. Even if you go to the county magistrate to reason with him, he has proper justification—he can easily marry you off recklessly.”

Cen Zishu glanced at Nanny Qian. Nanny Qian immediately understood, bringing out a small box from the cabinet and opening it before Ni Su.

Though the box was small, inside it was full of promissory notes.

“The day you went to Great Bell Temple to fetch the peace talisman, I had Nanny Qian sell all our family’s estates and farmland. I also pawned all my dowry jewelry, exchanging them for this money for you to take to the capital.”

A cold smile floated on Cen Zishu’s haggard face: “We can’t let Ni Zong bully us in everything. If he wants to take over the Ni family’s medical practice business, let him. But these fields, houses, and family property—he can dream on.”

“Mother…”

“Listen to me.”

Ni Su had just begun to speak when Cen Zishu forcefully interrupted: “If you’re truly good to me, leave early. Don’t let your second uncle scheme against you. Go find your brother, bring him back, then rightfully reclaim our family’s medical practice. Even if Ni Zong is unwilling, he must still handle my funeral affairs splendidly. As for the servants in this household, once I pass away, Nanny Qian will dismiss them all for me.”

Nanny Qian said nothing but couldn’t help wiping tears with the edge of her sleeve.

Having given these instructions, Cen Zishu seemed to have exhausted all her strength. She wouldn’t allow Ni Su to say another word. Closing her eyes, she said calmly: “Go. I’m tired.”

Ni Su held the box, forcibly suppressing the sourness at the tip of her nose. She stood up, supported by Xing Zhu as she walked to the door. That patch of midsummer sunlight was bright and scorching, spreading across the threshold.

“A’Xi.”

Suddenly, she heard Cen Zishu’s voice from behind.

Ni Su turned her head. The bed curtains blocked her view. Standing at the threshold, she couldn’t see Cen Zishu’s face clearly. She only heard her say: “This path is supremely difficult. Under heaven there are many petty-minded men. Are you afraid to be alone?”

Women who specialized in women’s medicine were mostly no different from the lowly “six grannies.”

The tears Ni Su had held back for so long fell in clusters. She stood in the sunlight, her shadow falling quietly. She looked at the person within the pale green bed curtains and answered clearly:

“Mother, I’m not afraid.”