The Cao family was well-known in Lin’an, not just for their capable son, but more so for the family’s elderly matriarch.
Old Madam Cao was renowned for her benevolence and devout Buddhism. Everyone in Lin’an knew her. She funded bridge and road construction, distributed porridge and medicine, and donated to schools and charities. Not just the poor in Lin’an, but those in nearby towns and villages had received her aid. They all called her the “Old Benefactor.”
Though the Cao family owned a large mansion in town, Old Madam Cao preferred not to live there as a sequestered matriarch. Instead, the family bought land in the suburbs, building three large thatched houses. The rest was cultivated into vegetable gardens. In her spare time, the old lady worked in the fields. At seventy, she still wielded a hoe with vigor, showing no signs of age. Most of her produce was given to nearby residents.
The Cao family wasn’t originally wealthy or noble. For generations, they had been simple farmers. In her youth, Old Madam Cao had struggled, caring for sick parents and four hungry children. She and her husband barely made ends meet, sometimes begging for food. Once, when no villagers could spare any rice, a wandering monk gave her his two shengs of rice, helping her through that difficult time. From then on, though illiterate, she became a devout Buddhist.
Old Madam Cao had three sons and a daughter, all illiterate farmers. Her favorite was her youngest son, Cao Hai, who joined the army young. Cao Hai was the smartest, rising through military ranks to become the Commander of Jiangning Garrison. His success elevated the whole family to wealth and status.
Except for Cao Hai, her other children lived with her. Now grown with families of their own, along with Cao Hai’s wife, two concubines, and four children, the household was bustling with dozens of people.
Everyone praised Old Madam Cao’s good fortune in having such a successful son, allowing her to enjoy her twilight years. However, she worried about the karmic burden of her son’s battlefield kills, praying and copying sutras daily for him.
Cao Hai was a stern, authoritative general outside, but remained a dutiful son at home. He always thought of his mother first when acquiring something nice and rushed home to care for her when she was ill, personally tending to her needs.
Yet this same man had killed thirty-seven members of the Jian family.
As Old Madam Cao enthusiastically shared Buddhist parables about karma with villagers, the young woman sitting beside her pondered: Where is justice when evil people thrive?
“Shu Niang, what are you thinking about?” Old Madam Cao asked after sharing three stories.
She looked up. “I’m reflecting on your stories. Heaven’s ways are clear, karma is inevitable. The Buddha sees all, and those filled with evil will face divine punishment.”
Old Madam Cao often shared Buddhist stories with villagers at her suburban home. She was an engaging storyteller, beloved by locals and children. Shu Niang, the young woman beside her, was a recent arrival – an orphan who had helped the old lady when she fell in a field, getting herself covered in mud while assisting her.
Old Madam Cao was fond of her, believing they shared a karmic connection. She took Shu Niang everywhere, appreciating the young woman’s maturity in caring for her and patience in listening to her stories.
“So in life, one mustn’t think evil deeds can be hidden. Even if people don’t know, Heaven sees all clearly,” Old Madam Cao said, patting her hand kindly.
She smiled back. “I always gain so much from your stories.”
As villagers dispersed, she stayed to chat with the old lady.
“That’s because you have a connection with the Buddha,” Old Madam Cao said warmly, inquiring about her recent well-being and lamenting, “Poor child, you’ve suffered alone.”
“Mother, since you like Shu Niang and pity her loneliness, why not adopt her as your goddaughter? This would give Shu Niang a family and you another daughter for companionship,” suggested Cao’s second daughter-in-law, arriving to fetch the old lady for dinner. Her young daughter, about seven or eight, ran to hug her grandmother before greeting “Sister Shu.”
The Cao family ensured Old Madam Cao was never alone in the suburbs, always accompanied by daughters-in-law or grandchildren.
“Oh no, I’m too lowly to presume such an honor,” Shu Niang stood up, shaking her head in apparent shock.
Old Madam Cao exclaimed, “What a wonderful idea! Why didn’t I think of it? Nonsense about presuming, unless you find this old woman disagreeable?”
“Of course not! You’re like a Bodhisattva, I can’t get close enough to you. How could I find you disagreeable? It’s just…” She looked at the old lady hesitantly, her misty eyes evoking sympathy.
“If you don’t mind, then it’s settled. We’ll find a good time for you to meet my sons and daughters-in-law at the mansion and make it official,” Old Madam Cao said excitedly, chattering on until her daughter-in-law urged her to return for dinner.
“Goodbye!” Shu Niang patted the little girl’s head, smiling as she bid them farewell. After watching them leave, she stood still for a long while before looking down at her hands.
Compared to properly investigating and prosecuting criminals through legal means, killing was far easier. Though brutal, it was simpler.
However…
At the end of August, the Cao family matriarch indeed adopted a goddaughter.
On the day of the formal ceremony, all forty-five members of the Cao family gathered. Ming Shu carefully counted them. Excluding servants, there were nineteen family members: Old Lady Cao (Cao Hai’s birth mother), Cao Hai’s elder brother’s family of five, his second brother’s family of six, and Cao Hai’s household of seven, including his wives and children.
Leaving the Cao mansion, Ming Shu clutched a bundle. The old lady had taken a liking to her, and the Cao descendants, eager to please their mother, had been equally warm. Their gifts were substantial—mostly gold and jade—though Ming Shu hadn’t examined them closely. She felt as if her knees were dusty and tried to brush them off, but the imaginary dust seemed stubborn.
Some time had passed since she left Bianjing. She had drugged Lu Chang and escaped with Tao Yiqian’s merchant group on July 28th. Now, as August drew to a close, the air grew cooler. A gust of autumn wind made her shiver, and she hurried towards her lodgings, rubbing her arms for warmth.
The Mid-Autumn Festival had come and gone. Ming Shu wondered how Lu Chang and Aunt Zeng were faring in the capital. They must have been shocked and worried upon receiving her letter. Yet, life’s meetings and partings were always unpredictable. With time, memories of loved ones would fade, just as she had anticipated.
If she and Lu Chang never met again, they would eventually forget each other. It might take a day, a year, a decade, or even two decades, but forgetfulness would come. For both of them.
Now, Ming Shu lived in a small house next to Old Lady Cao’s thatched cottage. Tao Yiqian had helped find the place, which resembled Lu Chang’s former residence: a small, three-room house with a tiny courtyard. One could raise chickens and ducks or grow vegetables there, but Ming Shu had done neither. Apart from firewood stacked against the wall, the yard remained empty.
She had done what she needed to do—and even what she shouldn’t have done. Now, she could only wait.
As Ming Shu approached the village in the late afternoon, she spotted two unfamiliar figures loitering at the entrance. She recognized them, however. One, wearing an eye patch, was the one-eyed Jiao Chunlu.
They hadn’t immediately agreed to Ming Shu’s grand scheme. She had asked them to consider it carefully and seek her out at this village when they decided.
Ming Shu discreetly led Jiao Chunlu to a secluded spot before turning to face him.
“Greetings, Master Lu,” she said with a slight bow. “Have you come to find me? Have you made your decision?”
Jiao Chunlu’s remaining eye glared at Ming Shu as if he wanted to flay her alive. His low voice was sharp and grating: “Little girl, aren’t you afraid we’ll steal the treasury key, torture you for its location, and then silence you permanently?”
“I’m not afraid. No one but me knows the treasury’s location. What threat could you pose to a desperate fugitive bent on revenge? If I die, you won’t see a single coin.”
If she were an ordinary person, she would fear pain and death. But now, with the Jian family gone and her father dead, she had nothing left to lose.
“How do I know you’re not lying? You claim the Jian family has a treasury. Where’s your proof?”
“There is no proof. Believe it or not, this deal is also about avenging you, Master Lu. You served them loyally, yet gained nothing. You lost your brother and comrades, all made scapegoats. Your name and portrait still top Jiangning’s most wanted list, forcing you to flee to Lin’an, constantly hiding. But you don’t know that the man who drove you to this state—the one who led the troops against you—was Cao Hai himself.”
Ming Shu’s cold smile and icy voice cut through the air.
Jiao Chunlu instinctively covered his left eye socket, feeling a phantom pain. He had lost that eye to an arrow during that very raid. The bandit leader who died was his elder brother, Jiao Chunfa. He had barely escaped.
“It must be bitter, doing others’ dirty work. The life of a fugitive can’t be easy,” Ming Shu continued, her words both mocking and enticing. “We share a common enemy. Don’t you want to earn those 30,000 taels of gold? Avenge yourself, flee far away, and live in luxury. What’s not to like? You can’t touch Cao Hai, but the Cao family is full of women, children, and the elderly. Even with Cao Hai’s men protecting them, they’re no match for your numbers. I’ve checked.”
Jiao Chunlu slowly lowered his hand from his eye. He observed this young, pretty girl speaking so casually about such matters. Dozens of lives seemed inconsequential to her, which unsettled him.
“You’re young, but vicious and poisonous,” he remarked, then asked, “What’s your plan?”
“Next month is Old Lady Cao’s 70th birthday. The Cao family will hold a grand celebration, and Cao Hai will return. We’ll strike before he arrives. I’ll give you the details later.”
Ming Shu smiled again as if thanking him for the compliment.
Jiao Chunlu scrutinized her face, searching for any sign of deception. But after a long moment, he saw nothing beyond her calm smile.
“Fine. I’ll wait for your signal. But if you dare trick me, I’ll make you wish you were dead,” he finally nodded, issuing a grim warning. He then explained how they would communicate and hastily departed with his companion.
Only after they disappeared did Ming Shu let out a small sigh of relief before heading to her lodgings.
Lost in thought, Ming Shu absently pushed open her door. Twilight had fallen, and the humble cabin was poorly lit. She stepped inside, leaving the door open to use the fading light to light an oil lamp. Suddenly, a hand seized her wrist and pulled her aside.
A dark figure darted out, quickly closing the door and pinning her against it.
Ming Shu was startled, her back cold with fear. She tried to scream for help, but the intruder’s hand clamped firmly over her mouth.
Before she stood a man shrouded in a cloak, his face hidden by a large hood. She could only see deep shadows beneath it.
“If you don’t want to attract Jiao Chunlu, be quiet. And put down whatever you’re holding!” The voice from under the hood made Ming Shu loosen her grip on the dagger she had secretly grasped.
That voice…
“Lu Chang?!” she exclaimed as soon as the hand left her mouth.
He quickly covered her lips again, cracking the wooden door open slightly and guiding her to look outside.
Sure enough, Jiao Chunlu and his man had stealthily entered the courtyard. They hadn’t truly left earlier but had followed Ming Shu to her real residence to keep watch.
“Boss, something’s odd inside,” Jiao Chunlu’s companion whispered.
Jiao Chunlu gestured, and his man crept to the door, pressing his ear against it to listen.
Inside, Lu Chang held Ming Shu against the door.
His hood had fallen back, and the light from the crack illuminated his eyes.
Their gazes locked, both speechless.
Inside and out, all was silent save for the soft sound of their breathing…