◎He sighed: “Regional prejudice indeed—”◎

After the religious ceremony concluded, it was already noon. Zhu Shi led Lan Shanjun to the rear courtyard to rest, saying tactfully, “I told the abbot that you’ve been frail since childhood, so you followed Master Kong Ming in chanting sutras to seek the Buddha’s blessing.”

This was her way of telling her not to let anything slip.

Lan Shanjun smiled lightly and nodded. “I understand, Mother. I won’t speak carelessly about matters in Huailing.”

Seeing that she actually understood, Zhu Shi breathed a sigh of relief and said with a smile, “This is also for your reputation and that of your sisters at home. We can only bury the past.”

Lan Shanjun nodded again.

Zhu Shi was quite fond of her gentle obedience. Holding her hand, she said, “Shanjun, tomorrow I’ll personally teach you the rules. If you learn quickly, there will be a birthday banquet at Marquis Boyuan’s residence on the fifteenth of next month. All the young ladies from various families will attend. You can befriend a few girls whose temperaments match yours and also look for a good husband.”

She smiled and continued, “You’re sixteen now. It’s time to arrange your betrothal.”

Lan Shanjun continued nodding as if she had no objections: “I’ll listen to Mother in everything.”

Zhu Shi’s smile grew even more pleased: “Your temperament is exactly as I saw you in my dreams.”

She sighed sentimentally: “I suppose this is the mother-daughter bond. Though we’d never met, I could still dream of you.”

Hearing this, Lan Shanjun lowered her head with a smile but said nothing more. Then she recalled that whether it was befriending sisters or finding a husband, nothing had gone as smoothly as Mother initially hoped. At first, Mother had counseled her to be patient, but after repeated setbacks, she would admonish her: “Shanjun, you must be more pleasing.”

How to be pleasing?

Like this moment?

She observed that Mother seemed pleased with how she was now.

Then Mother should have liked her twenty-six-year-old self.

By that time, she had learned to soften her words and actions. Though she still had a stubborn backbone, at least she’d learned to wear a mask over it.

Calculating further, she realized she’d already made offerings to everyone who needed them. Only her own life remained without a perpetual lamp lit for it. She began planning how to争取 secure an opportunity to go out soon and investigate the Song family’s affairs.

She raised her head, about to inquire with Zhu Shi about the Song family, when she saw two men approaching from the stone arch ahead.

She didn’t recognize one of them—probably twenty-four or twenty-five years old. But the other was Yu Qingwu.

Lan Shanjun was surprised. She hadn’t expected to see him again so soon. Zhu Shi noticed them too and, bringing Lan Shanjun along, turned and walked quickly away, frowning. “Let’s go to the back to talk.”

She didn’t recognize Yu Qingwu, but she could see they wore cloth robes—clearly poor scholars. She was unwilling to associate with such people. She had her maids and servants trail behind to block their view, muttering in displeasure, “I thought this place would be quiet, but didn’t expect others to come. The abbot should have someone stop them.”

If this were the Duke Zhenguo’s residence of years past, when they were here, the temple would absolutely not have allowed anyone in cloth robes to enter.

Her expression was rarely so stern as she walked steadfastly forward. Lan Shanjun fell back a step, paused briefly, then turned sideways to nod toward the people who had already stopped across from them before following along and leaving.

The group departed hurriedly. After they’d gone far, Yu Qingwu and his good friend Su Xingzhou walked over, saying with a smile, “So it’s people from Duke Zhenguo’s residence performing religious ceremonies.”

Su Xingzhou asked thoughtfully, “Are you certain it’s Duke Zhenguo’s residence?”

Yu Qingwu nodded slowly, walking as he spoke: “I saw that Lady Lan at the courier station a few days ago.”

He continued, “Later, at our teacher’s place, Old Lady Shou heard that I’d encountered people from Duke Zhenguo’s residence at the courier station and told me that the Lan family recently brought back a sixth daughter who’d been raised in Huailing since childhood. I reckon the one who kindly nodded to us just now was her.”

Old Lady Shou was Elder Wu’s widowed sister-in-law. She’d lived in Luoyang for many years and loved to inquire about affairs of various households. She also enjoyed reading all sorts of miscellaneous books and seemed to know a little about everything.

Yu Qingwu added, “Old Lady Shou says she’s like an encyclopedia.”

Having said this, he walked forward a few steps, suddenly felt something was amiss, and quickly turned back to see Su Xingzhou standing motionless in the distance like a stationary boat. He laughed, “What’s wrong? No wonder I noticed no one beside me.”

Su Xingzhou’s expression was peculiar. He quickly stepped forward and said in a low voice, “I just find it quite a coincidence. She resembles a young lady I once met in Huailing by seventy or eighty percent. But that young lady grew up in a temple, raised by an old monk.”

He paused, then continued, “Due to several chance encounters, I remember her quite clearly. I recall she was called Shanjun, though she had no surname—an orphan, after all.”

He pondered, “Looking at it this way, I must have mistaken her for someone else. With such origins, she couldn’t be from Duke Zhenguo’s residence.”

Yu Qingwu’s heart skipped a beat. His expression changed several times before he finally said, “…I remember that Lady Lan the Sixth’s given name is indeed Shanjun.”

He lowered his voice even more, “I heard her elder brother call her that once at the courier station.”

Su Xingzhou’s brows furrowed tightly.

Yu Qingwu also found this matter strange: “If that’s the case, I reckon there’s some story behind this. Elder brother, you absolutely must not speak of today’s conversation to anyone else.”

Having been friends with him for over a decade, Su Xingzhou naturally understood his meaning and said, “A young lady’s reputation is important. I won’t speak carelessly.”

He added, “But even if we don’t speak of such matters, those with ulterior motives might still learn of them. I heard she later made her living by butchering pigs—she must have been seen by many people.”

An image of Lan Shanjun butchering pigs floated into Yu Qingwu’s mind, and he couldn’t help but laugh. “So that’s why her eyes still carry a hint of killing intent—it’s partly the pigs’ contribution.”

But since this matter wasn’t exactly airtight, he couldn’t help but inquire, “What exactly happened?”

Su Xingzhou walked while recalling: “As you know, when I was sixteen, to save money, I stayed at a Daoist temple with Yingying.”

Yingying was his younger sister, only six years old at the time.

“That day, I’d earned some money copying books for someone and thought about buying Yingying a new Three Character Classic. Who knew that just as I reached the bookshop in town, I’d see a little girl about Yingying’s age begging for books there. The bookshop proprietor and passersby all mocked her for her foolish fantasy, treating her as entertainment, yet no one gave her a book.”

“Seeing this, I naturally felt sympathy, so I bought two copies of the Three Character Classic from the bookshop. One for her, one for Yingying.”

Back then, he couldn’t actually remember her appearance—only vaguely recalled such an incident.

“However, one day, she was brought to the temple gate by a drunken old monk, where she spoke loudly and even kicked the door.”

Since it hadn’t been long ago, Yingying still remembered her and laughed quietly upon returning, “She was drunk and said that in the future, she’d slaughter a pig and offer the pig’s head to Buddha and the pig’s tail to the Dao.”

Actually, only he, his sister, and a Daoist priest lived at the temple. The old priest laughed and said, “Never mind them. Just a wine-and-meat monk bringing along a little butcher girl.”

Only then did he learn that the two lived in a temple halfway up the mountain.

Yu Qingwu found this interesting. “What happened after?”

Su Xingzhou smiled, “Later, when things quieted down, I opened the door to look and discovered an epitaph written in charcoal on the outer wall. I still remember what it said.”

Yu Qingwu couldn’t help but prick up his ears: “What astonishingly brilliant phrase was it?”

Su Xingzhou solemnly recited: “All people must end; since ancient times, none escape death.”

Yu Qingwu savored this repeatedly before deciding to follow his heart: “—It seems rather unremarkable.”

Su Xingzhou countered, “You don’t understand the meaning within—and the calligraphy was extraordinary.”

He continued, “It was the first time I’d seen such fine calligraphy, so I copied it and rushed up the mountain that very day to seek apprenticeship.”

Naturally, he wasn’t accepted. The old monk refused him and even burned his copied paper and destroyed the characters on the temple wall, laughing, “I really drank too much—why would I write an epitaph? It’s truly inauspicious.”

Su Xingzhou explained, “He also made me promise not to copy his calligraphy again. Seeing he was truly unwilling, I agreed, but my curiosity was aroused—he seemed very much like an expert from storybooks.”

“Only, before I could investigate, you wrote inviting me to Mount Duancang. I went for six years and completely forgot about this matter. Four years ago, the year we were coming to Luoyang, I took Yingying back to Huailing to bid farewell to the temple’s master.”

He recalled, “It was fine when we went, but the next day heavy snow fell. Yingying and I couldn’t descend the mountain, so we stayed at the temple.”

When leaving, they happened to see on the mountain path a young lady who’d grown up, carrying the dead old monk’s body while seeking a physician.

“I didn’t recognize her then—Yingying recognized her. You know Yingying’s memory was exceptional; even I couldn’t match her at memorizing texts. Yingying said that young lady looked much the same as when she was small. I didn’t believe it then, but now I recognized her at a glance too. This Lady Lan the Sixth truly resembles her appearance from four years ago by seventy or eighty percent.”

Yu Qingwu was amazed: “So there truly are people in this world whose appearance doesn’t change.”

Su Xingzhou nodded and sighed, “Back then, her circumstances were truly difficult. I heard she was an abandoned infant, raised on food from various households in the village at the mountain’s foot with the old monk. When the old monk died, she became an orphan again.”

Seeing her pitiful state, he and his sister helped the dazed her get to a medical hall. After the physician determined the old monk was definitively dead with absolutely no possibility of revival, they helped arrange for a coffin before returning.

He sighed with emotion, “At the time, Yingying kept telling me she was an extremely pitiful person. She sympathized with her greatly and cried for several days.”

Yet the pitiful person became a young lady of Duke Zhenguo’s residence, while Yingying died in Luoyang.

She never even returned to Huailing.

Hearing this, Yu Qingwu remained silent for a long while before saying, “If she grew up in Huailing, she probably can’t change her habits and speech patterns overnight. Living in a family like Duke Zhenguo’s residence, her life probably isn’t very good either.”

He sighed: “Regional prejudice indeed—”

Hadn’t Yingying died because of this very thing back then?

His expression grew cold, while Su Xingzhou, having encountered this particular old acquaintance, felt somewhat more cheerful when worshipping his sister. He began muttering quietly to his sister’s reincarnation lamp.

His words were always trivial—he could ramble on endlessly with things like “If you were alive, you’d definitely recognize her at a glance,” “I still have that copy of the Three Character Classic I bought you back then,” “When I return, I’ll dig it out and air it in the sun.” He could talk like this all day.

His sister used to say he was like a chattering old man. He sighed and smiled, “You once said that with my manner, I’d never find you a sister-in-law. Now your words have come true—your brother remains alone and widowed.”

“Fortunately, your Brother Qingwu accompanies me. Otherwise, being all alone, how difficult it would be—”

Yu Qingwu knelt beside him, quietly listening and continuously burning paper money for Yingying. His mood was heavy, his eyes moist. When they emerged, Su Xingzhou patted his shoulder, saying, “Next time you come, you must be happy and cheerful. Yingying was a child who loved to laugh—if you’re like this, she won’t be able to smile.”

Yu Qingwu lowered his head and murmured acknowledgment. After walking a few steps, he suddenly said, “Someday—”

But Su Xingzhou interrupted him, “Don’t always keep it in your heart.”

He said seriously, “Qingwu, life and death are fated. You can’t be blamed for Yingying’s death. Moreover, you placed third in the imperial examinations that year and could have stayed in Luoyang, yet because of Yingying’s death, you confronted Marquis Boyuan’s residence, fell into their trap, and were demoted to Huailing. Even then, I already felt I’d wronged you.”

His expression was solemn: “If Elder Wu hadn’t been promoted this time, you might never have returned. Qingwu, you’re different from me. You’re meant to accomplish great things. You absolutely cannot act as rashly as you did in your youth.”

He and Yu Qingwu had been neighbors since childhood and had met Elder Wu at the same time. But he had no grand ambitions to救 save the realm—he only wanted to pass the examinations to become a county magistrate and return to Huailing, spending his life there as a minor local official.

Only after Yingying’s death did he lose interest in the spring examinations. Missing that opportunity, he remained in Luoyang to continue studying, waiting for next year’s spring examinations.

Su Xingzhou smiled, “If my luck is good next spring and I can obtain even a minor post in Huailing, I’ll take Yingying’s memorial tablet home. Then you won’t need to accompany me anymore.”

He heavily patted Yu Qingwu’s shoulder. “You must do well in Luoyang. In the future, I’ll need to rely on your parasol tree for shade.”

He laughed again, “But I aspire to be a boat that never breaks for a thousand years—I might live to a hundred.”

“Qingwu, you must live well. Otherwise, how will you protect me when I’m a hundred-year-old man?”

Yu Qingwu thumped his shoulder even harder. “Very well—a centennial county magistrate!”

Su Xingzhou laughed heartily. Before leaving White Horse Temple with Yu Qingwu, they saw Lan Shanjun and the party from Duke Zhenguo’s residence again. They commanded servants and maids, traveled in precious carriages with fine horses, looking quite illustrious—utterly incompatible with their cloth robes.

Su Xingzhou then recalled how she’d carried the old monk’s corpse down the mountain years ago, stubbornly begging the medical hall physician to bring him back from the dead. He said sincerely, “If it truly is her, I hope the rest of her life goes well and she suffers no more hardships.”

Yu Qingwu fell silent for a moment, then said heavily, “You’ve even learned Yingying’s words.”

What Su Yingying most loved to say was, “May we have money soon, so the rest of our lives won’t be bitter.”

Before dying, she’d asked him to convey these words to Su Xingzhou.

Actually, what she’d asked him to relay was: “Brother Yu, remember to tell my brother to live many more years in his remaining life. He absolutely mustn’t die young like me.”

The little girl had lived only thirteen years.

—

**[Author’s Note]**

“All people must end; since ancient times, none escape death”: An ancient epitaph I’d previously recorded. I didn’t note the source, and searching online yielded nothing, but I clearly remember it was an epitaph.

“Regional prejudice”: Fangyu means “earth/land,” referring to biased local prejudices, similar to today’s regional stereotyping.