This morning, there was light rain.
As the boat traveled along the river, that light rain mixed with wind came like countless small needles slanting through the air, particularly swift and fierce.
Mo Zi covered her face with a cold towel, dispelling all remnants of sleepiness, her mind refreshed. She changed into a blue floral-patterned old tube skirt and walked out of the cabin room she shared with several other maidservants, passing through the dim corridor before pushing open the wooden door. The rain needles that greeted her immediately dotted her skirt with a layer of water mist, so cold she rubbed her arms vigorously.
After half a month traveling the official roads, five days ago the advance scouting party had discovered that towns near the Yuling border were unstable, with fears of refugee bandits, so Xiao Wei decided to switch to the water route.
Actually, traveling north from Luo Zhou by water route would take less than twenty days to leisurely reach the capital, much faster than the time needed even with horses galloping day and night on land routes. However, Concubine Madam Wei had always suffered from severe motion sickness, so they chose the slower route. Logically, ancient road conditions were poor, making horse carriages even more jarring. But Concubine Madam Wei could adapt to the short, abrupt jolting frequency, while she couldn’t adapt to the wavelike swaying motion—there was nothing to be done about it.
For safety’s sake, Concubine Madam Wei had no choice but to board the boat. The boat had traveled for five days, and she had been dizzy for all five days, vomiting everything she ate on the boat.
There was also a Miss Wei Six who suffered from seasickness, having vomited and fainted on the first day.
Xiao Wei had no choice but to have the boatmen dock at every port they passed, allowing Concubine Madam Wei and his nominal cousin to disembark for meals and rest for an hour or two. As a result, what should have been a two-day boat journey had taken five days, even slower than traveling by horse carriage.
What was torment for the two Wei family women was enjoyment for Mo Zi. Especially since this trip carried no worries, sleeping at night felt as comfortable as being in a cradle, while during the day she could endlessly watch the human landscapes on both shores and enjoy the pleasure of going with the flow. No need for scheming, no need for strategic maneuvering—it had been the most carefree few days since following Qiu Sanniang, and she even felt her waist had grown some flesh.
As for whether Xiao Wei and Shi Lei would recognize her, she had indeed been anxious and uneasy at first. But then she discovered that those two important figures didn’t even properly look at a maidservant, leading her to conclude that low status also had its advantages. For instance, during these few days on the boat, they hadn’t even met face to face.
“Miss, you’re up so early,” said A’Da the boatman, wearing a bamboo hat and mourning clothes, holding a bamboo pole with water droplets dripping from its tip.
The boat they were on was a passenger vessel, three to four times larger than the Yongfu, with six boatmen led by A’Da. In its construction, large and small sails caught the wind to increase or decrease speed, the stern rudder adjusted direction, and bamboo poles pushed against waves when entering ports—no oars needed. How far they could travel in a day mainly depended on whether the weather cooperated.
“A’Da, is the wind favorable today?” Not daring to reveal too much about herself, she only asked what everyone knew.
“Today there’s an easterly wind, which is favorable. Once we round this gorge, we’ll enter Luzhen Port. We’ll rest for two hours, then we’ll have to sail continuously for two days.” Boatman A’Da wiped his face with his hand as the gorge narrowed, the wind forming small whirlpools, and the fine rain suddenly came chaotically from all directions.
“Luzhen?” Mo Zi thought for a moment. “That’s very close to the Yuling border, isn’t it?”
“Separated by three rivers and five peaks, two days by boat,” Boatman A’Da frequently traveled long distances and was very familiar with this area. “Before we departed, I heard from returning boatmen that many Yuling people have fled as refugees to Hua Zhou, and the scenes along the shore are quite miserable. Luzhen is in Hua Zhou and is considered a very prosperous large town, but I don’t know if there are refugees there.”
“In places with many people, refugees aren’t to be feared.” Mo Zi had no particular thoughts or feelings about this at the moment. Where there’s war, there are those fleeing war—she herself was one of the refugees.
Suddenly she smelled something burning. “What’s that smell?”
Boatman A’Da’s expression immediately became somewhat strange as he pointed toward the back of the boat. “There’s a young lady back there burning paper. I saw she was someone from the young miss’s entourage, so I didn’t dare say anything. I can see you’re reasonable—could you perhaps go talk to her? Doing this on the boat is very inauspicious. For us boat people, we most fear taboos about dead people and these kinds of unlucky things.”
Boatman A’Da spoke vaguely about the words “paper money,” but Mo Zi, hearing his later words, roughly understood the meaning.
Someone was burning paper money on the boat.
Who could it be?
Mo Zi was also very curious. She sighed and walked toward the back of the boat. At the corner, she heard that person speaking softly.
“I know you left with resentment, unwilling and unconvinced in your heart. When you were young, you said you wanted to become a mistress. I advised you early on to be content and dutiful. You never listened. Now that you’re gone, your eyes are still open. This competitive nature—I don’t know what to say, except that everyone has their own fate. What isn’t yours, no matter how much effort you put in, is still in vain. I hope you can see past it, be reborn soon, and start anew. From now on, every year at Qingming, I’ll burn incense and send you money. I just fear that with your stubborn temperament, you’ll offend the King of Hell and his little demons.” She spoke while sobbing quietly.
Mo Zi stepped forward and glanced sideways to see within the boat railing a young lady in white dress with white sash fluttering, her hair dampened by rain. With one hand she wiped tears from the corner of her eye, with the other she held paper money burning into sparks. On a wooden stump sat a qilin incense burner with three stick incenses inside, burning feebly in the wind and rain.
“Bai He?” After seeing that woman clearly, Mo Zi was greatly surprised. Last night, Xiao Yi and Lu Ju had kept night watch in Qiu Sanniang’s cabin. When she woke this morning, she was alone in the room and had assumed Bai He had again gone to eagerly attend the young miss. She hadn’t expected to find her here doing such a strange thing.
“Mo Zi?” Bai He seemed somewhat flustered. Slow to release what was in her hand, the fire burned her finger, making her touch her earlobe. “You’re up so early?”
“Who passed away that you’re so upset about?” Mo Zi remembered that besides Granny Liu, her godmother, Bai He had no other relatives. “I haven’t heard you mention anything at all.”
“Well—there’s no one.” Bai He hastily scattered the paper money into the river.
“Ai Lian.” A voice descended from above.
No trees to climb, so Xiao Yi had switched to climbing the mast? But Mo Zi couldn’t laugh. “What?”
“Ai Lian is gone.” Xiao Yi sat crosswise on the second-floor cabin railing, dull and expressionless.
Ai Lian was gone—that is, Ai Lian had died.
“How is that possible?” Although Ai Lian’s condition that night had indeed seemed pessimistic, once she left the Qiu Mansion with her parents, Mo Zi thought that at least compared to staying in that man-eating place, it was better. With family to care for her, perhaps she would slowly recover. “We’ve been traveling for over ten days—where did this news come from?”
Xiao Yi stared at the sky, a blank face waiting for baked flatbread.
“Ai Lian passed away the second night after leaving the mansion.” Seeing Xiao Yi had spoken, Bai He was no longer flustered. “Her parents came crying to the mansion gates but were blocked outside. Xiao Yi heard it.”
In any corner of the Qiu Mansion, there might be a pair of cat ears listening quietly.
Although Ai Lian wasn’t a fragile, kind woman, she also wasn’t particularly vicious. One could say she was vain, one could say she was overly calculating, but having experienced the post-millennium civilization where mistresses were proud, affairs were justified, and materialism ran rampant, Mo Zi’s condemnation of these two points wasn’t as intense as the ancients’. And Ai Lian’s ambition to become a mistress wasn’t something she could despise. At most, she thought Ai Lian wasn’t smart enough—clearly there were ways to gain status without going through that philanderer Qiu Wu.
Ai Lian was a sacrificial victim of the rigid hierarchical system, an unlucky ghost who failed at executing schemes and plots. To speak of those worse than her, Zhang Shi topped the list. To speak of those more ruthless than her, there were many—Fourth Madam, Qiu Sanniang, even Mo Zi herself.
Mo Zi stepped forward and took the last handful of paper money from Bai He’s hand, lighting it with the burning incense. “Then why only burn this today?”
“Xiao Yi only told me last night.” Bai He’s eyes reddened again.
“Miss told me not to say.” Probably fearing someone would be upset.
“Ai Lian and I entered the mansion around the same time and learned the rules together. Back then we were still young maids, talking about everything. Later she went to serve Madam, while I was bought by Miss from the start, so we gradually grew apart. Two years ago, after Fourth Master took her as a concubine, once in the peach grove she ran into me and was quite happy, talking for a good while. I thought her good days were beginning, but who knew she’d depart so miserably. I think, if only back then I could have asked Miss to use Ai Lian, if she hadn’t followed Madam, things would have been better.” A person’s passing is like a lamp extinguishing, and Ai Lian’s lamp hadn’t even shone brightly before becoming smoke. Why was this?
“Bai He, this has nothing to do with you. If Ai Lian wanted to become a mistress even back then, even if she had followed Miss, she would have found ways to get close to Qiu Si and Qiu Wu. You and she were on different paths, so your endings were destined to be different. Don’t randomly take responsibility upon yourself.” Mo Zi had no connection with Ai Lian at all and felt no sorrow, but she did feel regret. If Ai Lian had followed Qiu Sanniang instead of Zhang Shi, perhaps she could have created a different future.
However, “if only” remained just “if only.”
Just as when she was near death, she encountered Qiu Sanniang and escaped from death’s door—who could know if in the future she might lose her life because of Qiu Sanniang?
One could only say that in situations where one could make choices, think carefully before deciding, to avoid future regrets. Once you’ve thought clearly and stepped forward, even if the outcome isn’t good, at least there are no regrets.
“But my heart aches…” Bai He sobbed softly, and somehow, she cried more and more sorrowfully.
Bai He, who had no relatives, must have particularly treasured that youthful friendship from the past.
Mo Zi had no heart to do anything for Ai Lian, but she wanted to comfort the weeping Bai He. The paper money in her hand turned to ashes and scattered in all directions. She took a stick of incense from the burner, brought both palms together, and facing the cold gray sky, made a deep, long bow.
“Ai Lian, if your fragrant soul does not disperse, you only trouble those who remember you with sorrow. Life is like a dream—one scene ends, another begins. We who are all maidservants deeply know your suffering. Here I pray to heaven, earth, and the spirits for you—” The first bow.
Bai He hurriedly picked up incense.
Under the earnest, expectant gazes of Mo Zi and Bai He, Xiao Yi flipped down and also picked up a stick of incense.
“May Ai Lian be blessed with swift reincarnation, fortune after misfortune in her next life, peace and happiness for one lifetime.” The third bow.
After the three of them completed nine bows, a great wind suddenly arose on the river, forcing them to shield their faces and lower their eyes. When the wind passed and they looked up, they saw the dark clouds at the horizon suddenly brighten. Rose-colored sunlight broke through, casting rippling golden light on the river surface. The rain needles filling the sky became light as snow fluff, gradually rising toward the heavens.
This wondrous scene came at just the right moment.
Bai He brought her hands together, knelt on both knees, and called out to the great compassionate one.
The boat rounded the gorge and entered Luzhen’s inland river. Mo Zi didn’t yet know if the spirits had truly shown themselves, but she was already deeply shocked by the scene that met her eyes.
That was—
Sorrowful flowers and fragrance on both shores!