“How much energy do you have to waste, trying to reason things out clearly with her? She won’t understand it in this lifetime no matter what, so why bother making her sharper? What matters is that woman Madam Ding thinks she’s right and you’re wrong — why bother arguing with her? Besides, I’m not exactly easy to see either — she could come a hundred more times and still not get to see me, no problem at all. It’s nothing.”

Qiqian’er smiled as she consoled Huo Wurong. When it came to this kind of household back-and-forth, she understood far more than her elder sister — there was even a hint of smug pride slipping into her tone.

Huo Wurong looked at her younger sister with a face full of apology, and after a long while pursed her lips and said: “Easy for you to say. That woman came from grievance-mongering stock — that toad-like nerve of hers, who could ever get the better of her? A real Three Bucket Mouth native! Heh — with my godfather’s fine character, how did he end up with someone like that? Might as well have—”

Qiqian’er quickly stopped her: “Aiyo~ Sister, what are you even thinking? Truly a young maiden’s naive heart. Listen to me, just let it be! Oh, do you really want your godfather to divorce her?”

Huo Wurong nodded seriously.

Yesterday that whole apology scene at her godfather’s house, with all those eggs sent over as well — she’d been mortified, hadn’t slept a wink last night, and had rushed over the moment Yanjing’s gates opened this morning.

She said helplessly: “Wouldn’t it be better to divorce her? Find my godfather a good match instead.”

Qiqian’er laughed: “And what if he can’t find a good one?”

Huo Wurong scoffed: “No need to worry about that — we’re nine brothers and sisters, my father’s not short on filial children.”

Qiqian’er said helplessly: “Listen to yourself — can children really be the same as a wife? Didn’t you come here before saying your father wanted to divorce her?”

Huo Wurong sighed, at a loss for words. Right — but then the two of them had made up again right after.

Qiqian’er, helpless, braced herself on the table and stood up, pulling her sister along toward the door, advising her as they walked: “Sister, on this matter just listen to me. There are countless strange things in this world, especially between a husband and wife — best not to get tangled up in it carelessly.

Listen to them when they’re apart, and it sounds like lifelong enemies, all complaints, wishing the other dead — but later, after all the fighting and fuss, don’t they still end up buried in the same plot together in the end?

What are we in all this? Oh, filial devotion? Can you warm his bed for him? Can you bring him food at just the right temperature, neither too hot nor too cold? Can you bear him a child? Your old father has his own thoughts on the matter! Don’t go making yourself the villain here for no reason — however much trouble she’s caused, your old father has put up with it, which means there must be something good about her behind closed doors that you don’t see. As long as the two of them are still together to this day, as long as your godfather is willing to stay another day, don’t go giving useless advice — this isn’t something you should be managing.”

The two sisters walked together into the courtyard, where they saw the young prince’s carriage already prepared and waiting.

The two children had also been tidied up and dressed, and knowing they were going out, their little faces flushed with excitement, little legs kicking eagerly as they scrambled toward the carriage.

The old gentleman’s intention was to take the children back to live at the princely mansion for some time; Qiqian’er, however, didn’t need to go along — she had to stay behind and finish out the major mourning period for Chen Siniu’s sake, since even after being formally adopted out, there mustn’t be any loose ends left that others could seize upon.

Huo Wurong picked up An’er and kissed him on both cheeks, and in the end took her sister’s words to heart.

Anyone else could scheme against her, but not her own sister.

She was someone who could truly take advice to heart; thinking it over carefully, her sister wasn’t wrong. If she pushed the matter and forced her godfather to divorce Madam Ding, and her godfather harbored even a shred of reluctance about it, then later on, at the slightest unhappiness in his own life, he’d surely nurse a grudge over it in his heart.

No one is a hollow, selfless bodhisattva in a temple — anyone who’s human thinks things over from every angle.

Besides, she thought divorcing Madam Ding would be good for her godfather — but wasn’t that the same logic as Madam Ding hoping she’d adopt out a full, complete child “for her own good”?

She’d really nearly turned into the same kind of person without even realizing it.

Having thought it through, her heart eased, and she carried An’er over and set him in the carriage, then stood outside teasing the child through the window.

Gennu’er, sensitive by nature, leaned against the carriage window and asked his own mother: “Is Mama coming?” Then he glanced at his mother’s belly: “Is little sister coming too?”

Qiqian’er stroked his big forehead and said with a smile: “Mama’s not going. Mama’s staying home to pick fruit and make you something sweet — you go stay a few days with Grandpa at our big house and hurry back.”

An’er’s expression turned a bit wistful, and he asked his mother: “How many sweets will you make?”

Qiqian’er held up her palm and turned it back and forth: “This many!”

Both children immediately looked forward to it, thinking about the sweets waiting for them when they got back, and stopped fussing, settling back into the carriage to lean against their grandfather’s knee, affectionately urging him to hurry up and get going.

Yes, children truly are heartless little things — you can pine for them across a thousand mountains and rivers with your heart in knots, but the moment they don’t need you anymore, they can toss you aside without a second thought.

Qiqian’er waved her handkerchief in farewell, while Gennu’er earnestly instructed her: “Then Mama has to be good too.”

Qiqian’er laughed: “Yes, Mama will be good and wait for you to come back.”

At this point, the old gentleman felt they were delaying things a bit, and asked through the carriage curtain toward Huo Wurong: “Is Fifth Aunt heading back to Yanjing? We could give you a ride along the way.”

Huo Wurong smilingly thanked him: “Thank you for thinking of me, sir, but there’s no need — I only just arrived… I came by cart as well, it’s cheap enough going back and forth, I’ll head back a bit later.”

The two sisters saw grandfather and grandchildren off, watching the carriage procession disappear at the street corner, and only then did Qiqian’er slowly let out a breath, feeling inexplicably pleased.

Seeing that she showed not the slightest reluctance to part with them, Huo Wurong asked curiously: “You really don’t mind, huh? However many days they say they’ll take them, that’s however many days, and you’re at ease with that?”

Qiqian’er smiled and raised an eyebrow: “You won’t believe me if I tell you, but these days, whoever helps me watch the children is like a living bodhisattva come to deliver me from suffering — no amount of love can outweigh how exhausting and bothersome their mischief is, it just wears my heart ragged. Eh, never mind, I won’t explain this to you, you wouldn’t understand anyway! What are you even worried about — that’s their own grandfather! Just let him take them both, hurry up! I finally get some peace and quiet — I’d only just settled down for a few days and already my true colors are showing again.”

She rubbed her own belly and added: “I can only stay easy like this for a few more months, then another one’s on the way. Besides, those two clever little rascals still hold grudges — if I don’t separate from them a while so they miss me properly, this mother of mine won’t carry any weight at all. Anyway, I won’t let your brother-in-law bring them back until they’ve cried at least three or five times.”

Just like that, boundless freedom stretched out before her, to go wherever she pleased — and it wasn’t only about the children. With her father-in-law living in the back courtyard, however smoothly her days went, she still had to go pay her respects at every meal, at the very least ask whether the incense he’d lit that day had burned well.

Her father was easygoing about everything, never fussing over small matters, but he cared a great deal about the proprieties owed to a complete household — whatever consideration other families’ elders received, he insisted on receiving as well, carrying himself with the full dignity of a great patriarch.

“Pfft~!”

Huo Wurong suddenly burst out laughing, having thought of something.

Qiqian’er looked at her curiously: “What are you laughing at?”

Huo Wurong said: “Heh heh, listen to yourself talk — and here we’ve been laughing at those Three Bucket Mouth folks, but I’ve heard plenty back in Yanjing that the Huo Family Manor crowd out this way isn’t to be trifled with either, quietly formidable in their own way…”

Before she could even finish, the two sisters burst out laughing together.

Amid their laughter, the family’s prepared carriage pulled up in front of them, and the two sisters climbed aboard, heading together toward the Plague God Temple.

It wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment idea — Qiqian’er had already planned to visit the Plague God Temple today; Huo Wurong’s visit had simply happened to coincide nicely.

The weather in late September was thoroughly pleasant, a cool breeze brushing by, the mountain scenery lovely too — one glance and the eyes felt utterly at ease, lush green upon green, distant hills fading into hazy ink tones, as though some master painter had splashed out half a circle of famous mountains and elegant waters, an immortal’s realm — and in that overlooked, out-of-the-way center, a small natural temple had quietly grown up, rather fitting indeed.

The Plague God Temple now was nothing like before. Ever since this area became Qiqian’er’s private estate, she’d quietly renovated it on her own — first raising the walls half a zhang higher, then spending a hefty sum to hire the finest gardener from the Pingshen area, and over five years of hard, dedicated effort, had ringed the place round and round with pine, cypress, locust, and other trees.

These trees were planted densely, and with proper care they grew taller and taller — within five or six years they’d hidden the Plague God Temple completely; anyone who didn’t already know it was there could pass right by without noticing, even looking carefully.

And even if someone did find it, one glance at the temple gate — Plague God Temple?

Most people wouldn’t go in.

Moreover, this was no longer the only Plague God Temple in Qingfeng. Qiqian’er had later bought land bordering the official road and spent over two thousand strings of cash to build an even grander, more imposing Plague God Temple there.

That one had real pomp and ceremony — a full set of statues for the Five Plague Attendants, one hall even housing a gilded image, a proper temple caretaker hired, and two households tending to the temple’s needs.

Not long ago, during a bout of childhood illness going around, that temple’s incense had burned exceptionally strong — and whenever the height of summer heat came round, it inevitably drew crowds like a marketplace, already showing signs of becoming a major temple.

But this place here — this was the Plague God Temple that Qiqian’er alone maintained, just for herself.

The carriage procession stopped before the Plague God Temple, and Qiqian’er, supporting her belly, got down from the carriage, while Huo Wurong carried a large basket of offerings in one hand, needing no help at all — she hopped down from the carriage herself, looked around, and said with a smile: “You wouldn’t tell me where we were headed the whole way, I was wondering where you were taking me — so it’s here. This place is different from before too, it’s, it’s actually quite lovely — did you fix it up?”

Qiqian’er untied the key from her waist, opened the temple gate, and said with a smile: “Ah, this whole area, over two li of land, is mine. That estate we passed, along with the vegetable fields, all supply our household’s food.”

Tsk, that was rather extravagant talk — over two li of vegetable fields just to feed the Guard Escort Lane household? A bit of an exaggeration too.

Hearing her sister click her tongue again, Qiqian’er said reproachfully: “Fifth Sister, what are you even imagining? My household doesn’t want private servitude — that only damages one’s hidden virtue and invites resentment. They came to us of their own will, we didn’t seize anyone’s land. Whatever we can’t finish eating goes to the vegetable households; besides, once they become our household’s vegetable tenants, however much produce they sell is entirely their own to keep, they don’t owe any taxes, and they’re not subject to corvée labor either… they’re only too glad for it.”

Huo Wurong carried the basket and stepped into the temple, and along the way sighed with both nostalgia and admiration: “Whatever your household’s affairs, as long as you know what you’re doing, that’s fine. As for me, I’ve never been able to stomach people bullying others, my whole life — sister, we’ve had it hard surviving this far…

Oh? This place has been tidied up so neatly, I almost don’t recognize it! We used to come here all the time to steal offerings right out from under the old lord’s nose — we sure were bold back then, didn’t know what fear was. This — this is actually the first time I’ve come here in broad daylight.”

She looked around and sighed: “So this is what it looks like in the daytime!” Having said that, she went looking for the old hole they used to crawl through — naturally, that too was long gone.

As they talked, the maidservants outside began carrying in buckets of water to clean up — some pulling weeds, some scraping moss, some scrubbing the paving stones — clearly not their first time accompanying Qiqian’er here.

At the height of summer, and around the Qingming festival, whenever she could come, she made sure to come.

Qiqian’er stretched out her arms so that Siyue could help tie up her sleeve guards for her, then took the wooden bucket and cloth, untied the key and opened the main hall, going in herself to freshly gild and repaint the fearsome Plague God’s image, adding to its solemnity, and cleared the old ash from the offering table.

Huo Wurong also tied on sleeve guards, took a cloth, and carefully wiped down every brick on the floor, saying with a laugh as she worked: “You really do have a thoughtful heart, know how to show gratitude — I fall short of you there. Plague Lord, don’t take offense, going forward we’ll see…”

At this point she thought of Liu Ning, and sighed with a bitter smile: “If, if only Liu Ning were here, all of us tending to the Lord together, laughing and chatting our whole lives through — who knows how good that would have been.”

Qiqian’er was in the middle of lighting incense candles when she heard this, and paused, holding up the incense and looking at the Plague God as she asked: “Sister.”

“Hm?”

“Is Sixth Sister gone?”

“Mm~ yes!”

“You saw it with your own eyes?”

“Mm, I saw it.”

“…Well, that’s alright too. She’s gone to a good family now. I’ll go to Qingque Nunnery later and have a memorial tablet made for her.”

“That’s good, I’ll arrange a Buddhist rite for her too.”

Inserting the incense into the censer, Qiqian’er bowed solemnly together with Huo Wurong, then slowly stepped out of the main hall — resolving never again in this life to speak the name Liu Ning.

Their Huo family girls weren’t even limited to birth order seven — children had always quietly come, and quietly gone.

If you’re going to live, you have to learn to let things go — otherwise what else could you do?

They used to think, lying crowded together at night, that death was actually a kind of release — having suffered so much in this life, surely the next life would bring rebirth into a good family.

By now, the courtyard had already been swept clean, the weeds pulled, the moss along the walls cleared away.

The scorched old tree had long since been uprooted by Qiqian’er, and in its place, by the well, she’d personally planted a taller tree, now growing lush and green.

Only she could have managed something like this.

Once the maidservants had gone back out, Qiqian’er finally took out the ceremonial paper and incense from her basket and laid them out on the ground.

Seeing Huo Wurong looking at her in surprise, she smiled and called her sister over: “Sister, come here! This is my… half-master. Come burn a few sheets of paper money for him too, he cares quite a bit about this sort of thing.”

Huo Wurong crouched down at this and began burning the folded gold and silver ingots alongside her sister, handful by handful.

She asked: “What was this old gentleman’s name? How did you come to be paying respects to him here?”

Qiqian’er smiled, not even lifting her head, and said: “I don’t know.”

Wurong was startled: “You don’t know? Then how did he… pass away?”

Qiqian’er thought for a moment, then said: “What’s given from above, one may take back as one pleases — life and death rest in others’ hands; by the time he woke up to it at the end, it was already too late — so he was simply gone. Anyway, he didn’t want to go on living either.”

Huo Wurong, crouched on the ground, brushed the dirt off her hands, and looked at her sister, swaying helplessly, saying: “Let me guess, Huo Qiqian? I know you’ve read more books than me, truly, I’ve known that for a long time.”

Qiqian’er held back a laugh and explained with an apologetic face: “Ah, forgot! I mean, being in a high position isn’t necessarily a blessing — those above can grant you wealth and status, and just as easily take it away, even your life. Some people look dignified on the surface, yet their life and death aren’t their own to control, and by the time they wake up to it at the end, it’s already too late…”

Huo Wurong stood up in exasperation, hands on her hips: “Hey~ Huo Qiqian? You should have just said that from the start, why bother with that sour, roundabout speech to trip me up…”

Qiqian’er, afraid her sister would get truly annoyed, quickly stood up and took out something she’d prepared before leaving the house, handing it over with both hands: “Sister, don’t be mad, here’s something good for you.”

Huo Wurong looked at the small cloth bundle in front of her in astonishment, took it, and opened it to find two old books — books whose covers she actually recognized. One was the Cultivation and Alignment True Scripture, the other the Thirty-Six Forms of Moon Virtue.

Huo Wurong had spent years making her way around Yanjing, doing what was essentially a man’s business — though she claimed to have hefty fists and nimble footwork, that was mostly just bragging to Qiqian’er. Unlike other chiefs, when trouble came her way, she’d handle it quietly behind the scenes rather than daring to clash head-on.

And the reason she put on an act rougher and cruder than any man, day after day, was purely out of necessity, to protect herself.

This was her only living blood relative — how could Qiqian’er not feel for her? She understood all too well that the skills in her own body had likely been cultivated on some crooked, twisted path, one no martial artist before her had ever walked.

Having received the old gentleman’s blessing to widen her meridians, she’d had no guidance afterward and no understanding of the consequences — she’d simply stumbled through it like a blind cat happening upon a nest of dead mice, sheer luck and a hardy constitution.

Later she’d studied proper martial arts under Uncle Xin, but his methods were nothing like hers — that was true circulation of one’s own qi, cultivating one’s own dantian, guiding it through the body’s meridians oneself, rising early and enduring great hardship for half a lifetime before achieving anything worthwhile.

Nothing like her own case.

No school of martial arts drew qi straight from the earth itself; no school’s technique could reduce solid rock to powder with a single palm strike.

These past few years, having settled down enough to study these two books again, she’d finally come to understand what had happened to her — but it was too late by then; her own technique was on a completely different path from what these books taught. So she’d decided to pass this legacy on to her sister instead.

After all, better to keep good fortune within the family.

Huo Wurong flipped through the pages, slowly realizing what these books were, and looked up in astonishment: “This — this is for me?”

At Yanjing’s largest martial arts academy, once a name with real standing in the martial world, the old masters there who made their living teaching students never taught their disciples the same things they taught their own sons — any hard-won insight into even a single move, they’d guard jealously.

Looking again at the aged color of these books, it was clear at a glance these were old things — precious things indeed.

Qiqian’er smiled and nodded, then pointed at the incense and paper money laid out before them: “Perform the formal apprentice-bow to the old gentleman, and they’re yours.”

Huo Wurong readily agreed, well aware that if she mastered these skills, with her own quick wits, things she’d never dared even imagine before would now be within reach — even things she might dare to seize for herself.

And so she undid her sleeve guards, brushed the dust from her clothes, and knelt beside what had once been a dry well, performing the formal bow of apprenticeship.

She knocked her head to the ground in full earnest, then knelt there looking up at the great tree before her and said: “Sister, in the past I used to lie to myself and say you were really a boy, but they never believed it, sister!”

Qiqian’er made a small sound of acknowledgment.

Huo Wurong laughed heartily: “Your elder sister here, truthfully, has always harbored a great ambition in her heart. Thank you!”

Having said this, she got up, brushing the dust off her knees, and said: “Master, from now on this bond between us, master and disciple, is sealed. They all say a woman’s life is cheap — well, I refuse to accept that…”

Before she could voice this great ambition of hers, Chunfen came in from outside the temple to report that two traveling guests passing by said they felt a connection to this old temple and wished to come in and pay their respects.

Qiqian’er, puzzled, glanced down at the incense candles, then toward the entrance.

Huo Wurong moved just as quickly — she reached over, tucked the two books into her own robes, grabbed the shovel, gave the ground a few quick strikes to bury the traces, then scattered a couple more handfuls of yellow earth over it, stamped it down with a few stomps, tossed the two empty baskets on top, and only then looked up at Qiqian’er with a wink.

See that? What sharp instincts, what capable handling, what a quick-witted chief she made.

Qiqian’er held back a laugh and gave a thumbs up, then turned to Chunfen, whose expression was a bit twisted as she stood there holding the shovel, and nodded: “Since they’ve come to offer incense to the Lord, how could we refuse? Show them in.”

Chunfen went out, and before long brought two people into the courtyard.

These two, one older and one younger — the older one about forty or so, fair-skinned and beardless, handsome in appearance with a gentle, warm bearing, dressed in a crisp dark blue fighting outfit, a pair of short swords crossed on his back, and at his waist, remarkably, a long sword with a black hilt wrapped in fish-skin and blue tassels.

The younger one, just past ten years old, wore a crimson fighting outfit, low-cut boots with tendon soles on his feet, also carrying a short sword with blue tassels at his side, but on his back, wrapped in red cloth, was what looked unmistakably like a long war-halberd that had seen blood before.

The two of them, upon entering the temple, wore expressions full of nostalgia as well.

After looking around with that wistful air, they spotted Qiqian’er, exchanged a glance, smiled, and finally both came forward together to stand before her.

The middle-aged man cupped his hands together and said with a smile: “It’s been a long time, little aunt — do you still remember an old acquaintance? We’ve been staying at the farmstead up ahead for over half a month now, and have finally managed to see you.”

Qiqian’er was startled at first, but hearing them mention being an old acquaintance, and meeting here at this very temple, quickly remembered, and raised her voice in surprise: “Aiyo! It’s you — the one who threw down his blade and abandoned me, leaving me to eat a mouthful of dust?”