On the night before New Year’s Eve in Yangzhou, goose-feather snow fell from the dark sky and white earth, spreading thick and fluffy across the streets.
All around was quietly peaceful and silent. Pedestrians hunched their shoulders and hurried past with bent backs. In the winter’s desolation, suddenly a large orange rolled out from a doorway, still shouting loudly: “Did that damn junior brother find anyone?”
“Damn his ancestors! How could I find anyone!”
The tranquil snowy scene became a children’s playground, completely ruining the winter landscape of Jiangnan. The one with such power to be called a “large orange” was undoubtedly Feicheng Guai of the Twin Freaks of Mount Hua. From across the way came a horse-faced elder—it was that “damn junior brother,” Suanpan Guai, returning.
The Yangzhou post station was noisy and clamorous as all the guests had gone out to search for someone. It turned out that Young Miss Qiong Fang had jumped out the window at dusk and still hadn’t returned. The disciples of Zhe’er Dan had inquired about the reason and reported back to their master. Seeing everyone’s panic, the two couldn’t help but find it strange—Qiong Fang possessed martial arts. Never mind jumping from a second-floor window; even if she leaped from a three-story pagoda, it probably wouldn’t kill her. They didn’t understand what these people were so anxious about.
Just as they were wondering, they heard a woman shout: “Found her! Found her! Quickly go boil some hot tea!” The disciple turned to look and saw two women supporting each other as they slowly returned from the main street. One had a face frozen stiff and purple—it was Qiong Fang. The other wore a long sword at her waist and was quite beautiful—it was Juan’er, the successor sect leader of Mount Jiuhua.
The disciple was about to look again when he heard his master cough and pull him away. Not understanding the reason, the disciple stole a glance and was shocked to see Qiong Fang barefoot, wearing only moon-white undergarments, her clothes disheveled. His heart jumped—now he understood what these people were anxious about. Qiong Fang had become somewhat “strange,” which made everyone extremely worried.
Qiong Fang looked utterly disheveled as she was finally helped into the main hall. Wearing Juan’er’s robe over her shoulders, she was still panting incessantly. At this time, all the servants had been driven away. Besides the aged Twin Freaks of Mount Hua, only Juan’er and Fu Yuanying remained to accompany her. Fu Yuanying brought over hot tea and crouched beside Qiong Fang, saying gently: “Young Miss, what exactly happened?”
At dusk, Qiong Fang had leaped from the window, her appearance disheveled and clothes incomplete. If she hadn’t encountered assassins, then she must have encountered someone. Everyone was concerned about the details and gathered around. Qiong Fang lowered her head, panting, then pulled out a thick book from her robe and slammed it on the table.
On the table lay a square book, thick and dirty, like a large brick picked up from ruins. Suanpan Guai was greatly puzzled. He picked up the thick book, looked at it, and read the title aloud: “Jingtai Personnel Records?” He made a sound of surprise and laughed: “What the hell is this?”
Fu Yuanying was also puzzled. He opened the book pages to read. The first page contained several lines of text, which he read in a low voice: “In the first month of the thirty-fourth year of Jingtai, on the day of bingyin, we ministers of the Imperial Academy lecturers and Grand Secretaries of the Jinshen Hall, Kong’an, respectfully received the imperial decree to compile the Records of Officials and Personnel. The work is now complete and respectfully submitted for imperial review. We respectfully present this memorial. The four supervising ministers are listed as follows…”
Grand Secretary of Jinshen Hall and Imperial Academy Lecturer Kong’an, Chief Inspector of Eighteen Provinces and Grand Tutor to the Crown Prince Jiang Chong, Supervisor of the Eastern Depot and Chief Eunuch Liu Jing, First-Class Marquis of Shanmu and General-in-Chief of Northern Expeditions Liu Angtian… Under the lamplight, what met the eyes were rows upon rows of names, lying like corpses. There were no peerless martial arts, no earth-shaking treasures—what Qiong Fang carried was only a record of personnel from the previous dynasty. Those segments of life and death separations, past events and old memories were all hidden within the yellow pages, waiting for someone to encounter them unexpectedly.
Seeing Fu Yuanying frowning wordlessly, Feicheng Guai and the others all gathered around. Everyone looked at each other, bewildered—how could this rotten thing suitable only for propping up bed legs be so carefully treasured in Qiong Fang’s embrace? Suanpan Guai made a sound of surprise and tremblingly reached out to touch Qiong Fang’s forehead.
Just as he was about to check if she had a high fever, suddenly the beauty raised her face and angrily said: “Get away! Get away from me! Annoying ghost! Get—away!” With shrill screams, Suanpan Guai nearly had his finger bitten. Qiong Fang snatched back the thick book with both hands and stood up shouting: “Uncle Pei! Uncle Pei! Come out quickly, I have something to ask you!”
Hearing the three words “Uncle Pei,” everyone was confused. But Fu Yuanying remembered that the post station manager was surnamed Pei, named Ya. He came over and reported: “Young Miss, Master Pei went to see the Yangzhou prefect. He said he wouldn’t return until New Year’s Eve evening.” Hearing this, Qiong Fang stamped her foot in anger, then clutched the book and ran back to her room. At this moment, a piece of paper fell from her embrace and fluttered to the ground.
Everyone discussed among themselves. Suanpan Guai said: “Damn, what’s wrong with this little girl?” Seeing everyone looking at her, Juan’er forced a smile and said: “I just found her in an old goods shop. She was already holding this strange book then. I don’t know what happened either.” Feicheng Guai pondered for a long while, then suddenly clapped his hands and said loudly: “She’s been struck!” Suanpan Guai, who always had an answer for everything, quickly asked: “Struck by what? Could it be a stroke?” Feicheng Guai laughed dryly: “At her age, where would a stroke come from? I think she’s been possessed by evil spirits.”
Though Feicheng Guai’s words were usually nonsensical, hearing this, everyone nodded repeatedly. Looking at Qiong Fang’s pale complexion and distracted soul, if not possessed by evil, how could she be like this? Suanpan Guai nodded: “Yes, yes. This morning when I encountered her, I saw her walking around barefoot, asking everyone if they’d met strange people. She must be possessed by ghosts—otherwise, after being pressed and slept with a few times, how could she end up looking like a ghost…”
Hearing the Twin Freaks of Mount Hua discussing the details of ghost possession, Fu Yuanying was too lazy to listen further. He bent down to pick up a piece of paper from the ground—it was what had fallen from Qiong Fang’s embrace earlier. He looked at it several times, saw rows of official names, but really couldn’t make sense of it, so he handed the paper to Juan’er.
The paper full of names showed nothing particularly unusual. Juan’er lowered her head muttering, then suddenly cried out in surprise.
“Lu Yun, Shandong Qingzhou Prefecture, thirty-second year of Jingtai, first-class top scholar graduate, appointed as seventh-rank magistrate of Changzhou.”
Hearing Juan’er read out this name, everyone looked at each other. Though they felt the name was somewhat familiar, they couldn’t say who this person was or what his background and deeds were. Fu Yuanying pondered: “Lu Yun? Is this person also a local official of Yangzhou?” Everyone was curious, but Juan’er was listless. She sighed and put the paper in her embrace, saying in a low voice: “Don’t ask too many questions for now. Let me go check on her.”
Carrying a dinner basket, Juan’er came to the young lady’s boudoir. This place was both a post station and the former residence of Lord Gu of Yangzhou. Standing before the room door, Juan’er couldn’t help but sigh softly. She naturally knew whose boudoir this was. The old master had long passed away, and his beloved only daughter had married far away in Beijing. This boudoir had weathered many changes and had long become a guest room for court visitors.
According to Suanpan Guai, Qiong Fang had been anxiously searching for someone since early morning. She must have encountered something strange last night, but what had she encountered? Had she seen Lord Gu’s ghost? Or… had she met that poor person who had long passed away…
Unwilling vengeful souls drifting about in sadness and loneliness, seeking lives… Thinking of the paper in her embrace, her heart couldn’t help but feel slightly afraid. She couldn’t describe the feeling, but looking at the door before her, Juan’er felt as if just pushing open the door would produce something startling.
She gently knocked on the door, but no one answered inside. Juan’er’s heart jumped in alarm. She quickly kicked open the door and rushed in with a quick step. Looking urgently, she couldn’t help but cry out and then bounce backward.
Inside the room, a small yellowish candle was lit. A woman with disheveled hair sat at a small round table by the window, looking like a female ghost combing her hair. Juan’er was so frightened her face turned white. She covered her face with both hands and peeked secretly, seeing the candlelight faintly casting the girl’s graceful silhouette on the window paper. That shadow was indeed Qiong Fang—she lowered her beautiful face with a smile at the corner of her mouth, constantly flipping through that large brick-like book. It seemed she was no longer the Young Miss, but the well-read, obedient boudoir mistress from ten years ago.
The more Juan’er looked, the more frightened she became. Qiong Fang usually fought and killed, but today she was reading by the window—truly like being possessed by a ghost. She called out hoarsely: “Hey! I brought you dinner.” Hearing the call, Qiong Fang’s long hair scattered as she was about to turn her head. Juan’er covered her face and screamed: “Wait a moment.” She lit a fire and lit a large oil lamp. Seeing the room brightly lit, she said: “Alright, turn around slowly, not too fast.”
With a “ha-choo,” Qiong Fang not only turned her head but also sneezed. Since female ghosts only wail and shed tears, but no one had heard of them having runny noses, Juan’er patted her heart and finally felt relieved. She opened the bamboo basket and arranged the dinner in a row—millet porridge, preserved meat, pickled vegetables, and strong wine were all complete. She smiled and beckoned: “Come, eat well.”
Qiong Fang glanced sideways, seemingly uninterested, and turned back to continue reading diligently.
Juan’er snorted and jumped over in two or three steps, snatching away the broken brick-like book. Qiong Fang jumped up in panic: “Give it back! Give it back!” Juan’er screamed: “I won’t give it back! If you don’t eat, I’ll throw this thing out!” One played the caring mother, the other the little girl—they performed quite convincingly. Seeing Qiong Fang finally sit down obediently, Juan’er was quite satisfied. She sat beside her, casually picked up the thick book and flipped through it, frowning: “What exactly did you encounter last night? Look how strange you’ve become.”
Qiong Fang lay on the table, looking at the porridge on one side and the bowl on the other, not moving to take a bite. Just as she was about to yawn, Juan’er said coldly: “Are you going to eat or not? If you don’t eat, I’ll throw the book away!” Qiong Fang sighed. She propped her chin with both hands, then suddenly her phoenix eyes brightened as she looked up at Juan’er and said: “Ah! How foolish of me! Uncle Pei is out, but I still have you!”
Qiong Fang spoke strangely, and no one could understand her. Juan’er sighed: “Hey, are you really possessed?” Qiong Fang ignored her, only smiling and saying: “You’re quite close to Miss Gu, aren’t you?” Juan’er looked puzzled: “Yes, didn’t we both bring A’Xiu to find her last time? Why are you asking this?” Qiong Fang smiled: “Never mind me. I just want to hear about her past.”
This question was very strange. Back then, if A’Xiu hadn’t led the way for their unexpected meeting, Qiong Fang would still be complete strangers with this Mrs. Yang.
From just one meeting, who knew where her curiosity came from? Seeing Juan’er’s confused face, Qiong Fang urged: “Tell me! I really like her boudoir. You must tell me about her past.”
Juan’er hesitated for a long while: “Alright, but… you have to drink this bowl of porridge.” Qiong Fang blew on it a few times to cool it, then raised her head and gulped down the millet porridge. She smiled, put her left hand on her hip and held the soup bowl upside down with her right hand to show she had finished drinking.
Juan’er was quite satisfied. She looked up at the boudoir and pondered: “Actually, about Sister Gu’s past… I’m not entirely clear either. It seems she was the daughter of the Minister of War. After her father died, she sold soy milk for several years, then married Yang Suguan. That’s about it.” These old stories, Qiong Fang had already inquired about clearly last night. She tapped with her chopsticks, then picked up that large brick-like book and carefully flipped through it again. Seeing that old book, Juan’er felt afraid and quickly said: “This book is nothing but bad luck—it’s all about dead people. Throw it away quickly.”
Qiong Fang smiled sideways and spat: “Who says it’s all about dead people? Open your cat eyes wide and look at whose name this is?”
Juan’er made a sound and leaned closer to look. She saw a “Chen Xuan” written on the dirty yellow paper—she didn’t recognize this person. Glancing away, she saw another person surnamed Ma, named Qiu, with “Wang Shun’er” stepped on under the horse’s hooves. She was too lazy to look at Wang Shun San or Wang Shun Si, raised her neck, yawned widely with her small mouth, and shook her head: “Crude country bumpkins, stupid and smelly. Who cares who they are?” Qiong Fang smiled: “What a country bumpkin. Look further down. Is this guy also a fool?”
Her slender jade finger slowly moved down to a line of small characters. Juan’er focused her gaze and immediately her waist trembled as she giggled: “Don’t talk nonsense—I never said anything about him.”
Wu Dingyuan, Liangzhou Guard, Shaanxi, thirty-second year of Jingtai, martial examination graduate, appointed as ninth-rank Educational Inspector of Zhili Northern Expeditions. The grayish-yellow line of characters was mixed among countless military officer names, not particularly noticeable. If not for Qiong Fang’s sharp eyes, it might have been overlooked. Qiong Fang held the book with both hands and read aloud: “Wu Dingyuan, styled ‘Country Bumpkin,’ nicknamed ‘Stupid Lord,’ from Stupid Prefecture in Xiliang.” She poked her head out from behind the book and said sweetly: “How wonderful! Your senior sister has such excellent taste in choosing husbands. If she knew her husband was an idiot, she’d definitely be delighted.” Hearing her speak so viciously, Juan’er laughed until tears came out, desperately trying to snatch the book as the two beauties made a commotion.
With great difficulty, Juan’er grabbed the book and looked down at that line of writing, smiling slightly: “Educational Inspector of Zhili or something—it seems there really was such an position. I first heard people call him ‘Constable Wu,’ then later ‘Commissioner Wu’… then a few years later, General Wu, Governor Wu, Marquis Wu… In any case, it’s a long string of titles. Besides my senior sister, no one can remember them all.”
Having personally witnessed the Jingzhou battlefield, Constable Wu was no longer Constable Wu, but a great personage commanding the world’s mighty armies. Qiong Fang laughed heartily, picked up her chopsticks to eat, gazing at the name on the paper. In her daze, she again heard that heavy sound echoing in her ears…
Boom-thud! Boom-thud! The sound of marching feet shook the capital as distant, clear commands came: “All troops…”
The gentle countenance of the lord gradually faded as she involuntarily heard that shout: “Advance into the Forbidden City!”
The earth-shaking sound of marching feet awakened all the people of Beijing. Qiong Fang woke from her dream, startled to see a black object floating past the window paper. This caused her to push open the window to look, but one glance made her scream out loud.
A dripping wet blood flag drew out a dragon-like dance of the character “Liu.” Whether it was human blood or sheep’s blood, that flag frightened little Qiong Fang. She stared blankly at the young military officer below the window, watching the heavy rain pour down, then was snatched up by an old family retainer and hidden in the attic.
Boom-thud! Boom-thud! On the night of the nineteenth of September at the hour of zi, the avenger entered the capital for a coup. In the night of pouring rain, the avenger held his left hand horizontally across his chest, his right hand raising a huge blood flag, pointing high toward the Forbidden City ahead, continuously letting out mournful, piercing howls…
The more Qiong Fang thought about it, the more frightened she became. Her right hand holding the chopsticks trembled slightly. On that terrible night, grandfather had disappeared without a trace. Only the misty drizzle accompanied her. At fourteen, she was filled with terror, only able to peek through that thin, long window crack with little ants and spiders at the great events of dynastic change…
“Hey! Hey!” Seeing her friend staring blankly, Juan’er quickly said: “What are you thinking about? You’re not still holding a grudge, are you?”
Qiong Fang snapped back to attention and asked back: “Holding a grudge? What grudge?” Juan’er felt somewhat guilty and said in a low voice: “Xiong Jun—those military officers in the Jingzhou temple. You’re not still keeping it in your heart, are you?” This actually reminded Qiong Fang. At that time, on the Jingzhou front, she had been greatly tormented by Governor’s beloved general Xiong Jun. Thinking of that man’s outrageous words and behavior truly made one angry. Glancing at Juan’er and seeing her uncomfortable expression, Qiong Fang immediately smiled coldly: “Whether Sect Leader Juan forgives or not—how can you ask me? You should ask yourself, elder sister.”
Juan’er said in panic: “You… what do you want to do? Don’t make things difficult for me.”
Qiong Fang chuckled, then suddenly sneezed and coughed: “I have a few questions to ask… As long as you answer honestly, I won’t make things difficult for that surnamed… surnamed…” Before she could say “Xiong,” she sneezed again—apparently, walking barefoot in the haunted house last night had finally given her a cold. Juan’er handed over a handkerchief with a bitter smile: “Alright, whatever you want to ask, just say it.”
Qiong Fang blew her nose forcefully, her face showing joy, then quickly flipped through the military officer records again. She beckoned to Juan’er with a smile: “Come look at this. Who is this person?” Seeing she was well-prepared, Juan’er’s heart was also uneasy. She looked down at the paper, not knowing what scheme Qiong Fang had, but with one look, she couldn’t help but cry out in surprise.
No wonder Qiong Fang was asking—there was a black, dirty blotch on the paper where a name had been deliberately obscured with ink stains. Reading it, she saw: “So-and-so, Fengyang Prefecture, Southern Zhili, twenty-second year of Jingtai, appointed as Liaodong Guerrilla Commander, thirty-second year promoted to Fourth-Rank Officer of the Yulin Army with sword privileges.”
Qiong Fang’s face was full of excitement as she said in a low voice: “Quickly tell me if this person is… is…”
Hearing the question, Juan’er only lowered her head to eat vegetables, unwilling to answer. Qiong Fang urged: “Hey, you promised me!” Juan’er looked left and right, confirming no one was around, before saying in a low voice: “His name is taboo—it cannot be spoken.”
Qiong Fang let out a long breath and said happily: “So it really is him.”
Seeing why these three characters had been crossed out—the world’s greatest rebel was right before her eyes. If not for the demonic name being defiled, why else would he receive such treatment? Qiong Fang set down her bowl and chopsticks and asked quietly: “You have wide connections—you’ve seen him before, haven’t you?” Juan’er didn’t know why she was so curious, and also didn’t want to discuss past events, so she shook her head: “You’re so cruel—do you want to harm me by sending me to prison?”
Qiong Fang frowned: “There you go again. No one’s around—heaven knows, earth knows, you know, I know. Who are you afraid will eavesdrop and inform?” She leaned her powdered face closer and blew her nose again, saying in a low voice: “What does this surnamed person look like? Is he very handsome and cold?”
The cold demon king—pale and handsome, tall and thin, left arm embracing a beauty, right hand holding a great blade, and riding a fierce white horse beneath his feet. Juan’er thought of this scene and spat out a mouthful of wine, nearly choking to death. Seeing Qiong Fang desperately pestering her, Juan’er sighed: “Alright, alright, I’ll tell you.” She looked around at the ceiling and checked to ensure no spies were around before lowering her voice: “To be honest with you, that surnamed Qin has a face full of stubble, his hair is so curly and thick it can’t be tied in a topknot, and that nose of his… it’s so high a small bird could perch on it. Compared to him, even my brother-in-law could be considered a handsome man.”
The world’s greatest demonic disciple, who shook the heavens and filled the wilds with corpses, turned out to have such an appearance? Qiong Fang was greatly disappointed and sighed: “The court always said this person had a green face and protruding fangs, too terrible to look at. It seems they weren’t wrong.” Juan’er sighed: “Isn’t that right? I once went to Mount Hua with him. This person’s body was dirty, his mouth stank, and his military uniform was never washed or pressed—the smell was deadly. Anyone who married him wouldn’t be stabbed to death by his stubble but would be poisoned to death by his stinky feet…” Thinking of those big stinky feet lying in bed, with cracked, pus-filled, black, dirty, poisonous, stinking skin, yet still wanting to press against a beauty’s delicate feet, Qiong Fang’s hair stood on end as she said in alarm: “Don’t say anymore—I can’t eat my dinner.”
The two beauties looked at each other and laughed heartily. Qiong Fang thought of the events on the Jingzhou battlefield. Her thoughts shifting slightly, she grasped Juan’er’s hand and said gently: “Tell me about your master?” Juan’er had been smiling, but hearing this, her expression slowly dimmed. She looked down and said nothing. Qiong Fang urged: “Tell me, tell me. What can’t be said?” Juan’er shook her head sadly: “Sister Fang, don’t force people into difficult situations. If I asked you about your father’s affairs, would you speak?”
Everyone had their own sorrows, and Qiong Fang was no exception. Her expression changed slightly, her heart stirring with displeasure. Just as she was about to get angry, she suddenly remembered that she had started this conversation—how could she blame her friend? She took a deep breath, displaying the bearing of a Young Miss, and put on a smile again. She flipped through the book pages and said: “Fine… if you don’t want to mention it, we won’t. Let me ask you about another person.”
Yang Suguan, Shuntian Prefecture, Capital, twenty-sixth year of Jingtai, Third-Class graduate, appointed Fifth-Rank Secretary of the Ministry of War’s Bureau of Operations. Her jade finger pointed to a name like a jade tree in the wind—this person was graceful and refined with a bright future. He was the youngest Grand Secretary since the dynasty’s founding and also the handsome man everyone in the court envied. Qiong Fang smiled: “The brothers Yang Suguan and Yang Shaoqi are both as beautiful as figures walking out of paintings. This person isn’t dirty or smelly, is he?” Hearing this, Juan’er seemed thoughtful but didn’t answer. Qiong Fang deliberately teased her, smiling: “Hey, you’ve delayed marriage for so many years—you’re not secretly fond of him, are you?”
Hearing her wild speculation, Juan’er’s face immediately showed anger as she scolded: “Nonsense! I’m not like my foolish senior sister who loves these hypocritical, fake-talking deceivers!” Speaking to this point, she realized she had let something slip and turned her head away, speaking no more. Qiong Fang was both shocked and delighted—she hadn’t expected to hear another old secret. Just as she was about to ask more, Juan’er wouldn’t be fooled and said coldly: “What exactly do you want to do by finding all these names?”
Finally getting to the main topic, Qiong Fang’s face showed a slight blush. She casually flipped through the book pages but couldn’t find that paper. After a long, long time, she had to stop moving. She lowered her head, took a sip of porridge, and said quietly: “I heard that the Liu School had four young officials—Yang Suguan, Qin Zhonghai, Wu Dingyuan… it seems one person is missing, right?” Juan’er sighed and took out that yellowed paper fragment from her bosom, saying: “The Four Generals of Liu School—’Watching Sea from Distant Clouds’—you’re talking about Lu Yun.”
Lu Yun, Qingzhou Prefecture, Shandong, thirty-second year of Jingtai, First-Class top scholar graduate, appointed as Seventh-Rank Magistrate of Changzhou. The incomplete paper fragment with the two characters “Lu Yun” on the table made Qiong Fang’s heart jump, her face somewhat flushed. She leaned closer and whispered: “Have you seen him before?” Juan’er looked at the paper on the table, silent for a long while, then said softly: “What if I have? He’s already dead.”
“Dead… dead?” Suddenly hearing news of the top scholar’s death left Qiong Fang speechless in shock, muttering: “You… who told you this?”
“About ten years ago…” Juan’er imitated her brother-in-law’s manner, pouring herself a cup of wine and drinking it with her head tilted back. She said quietly: “When Marquis Liu was having Emperor Jingtai’s family property confiscated, he was in the Liu residence at the time and got caught up in the affair, and finally… finally… sigh…” Her expression was sorrowful as she shook her head and said in a low voice: “In any case, after that day he disappeared and never came back.”
“The Four Generals of Liu School—’Watching Sea from Distant Clouds'”—in those turbulent waves of dynastic restoration and Nucang’s surrender, three of the Liu School were figures of world attention, but that cloud was uniquely missing. Like being scattered by wind or shyly hiding behind the blue sky, in any case, he had vanished for ten years with unknown whereabouts. No one in the world knew whether he was dead or alive, or where his bones were buried.
Qiong Fang pressed her lips tightly together, her eyes fixed on the candlelight. She didn’t refute Juan’er, nor did she reveal that secret.
What she had personally witnessed at dusk—Lu Yun carrying a shoulder pole with noodle bowls, floating past beneath her window, forcing Qiong Fang to leap from the window without changing clothes and chase after him directly. Even if the whole world considered him dead, Qiong Fang knew clearly in her heart that Lord Lu wasn’t dead—he had only stepped into the world’s greatest waterfall to cultivate and become a spirit, becoming that silent great water monster… This had also caused her to chase after him through several street intersections at dusk, finally only able to bring back this personnel record as something better than nothing to look at.
Thinking of last night’s conversation between Lu Yun and Pei Ya, Qiong Fang sat in stunned contemplation. She looked up at the boudoir and suddenly said: “Juan’er… do you think Miss Gu is… is…” She repeatedly considered her words and said in a low voice: “Does she know this Lord Lu?”
“You’re quite capable…” Juan’er pointed at Qiong Fang with wide almond eyes: “You’ve even inquired about such matters.”
Qiong Fang was overjoyed, thinking of the great water monster’s sorrowful expression last night. Wanting to investigate thoroughly, she quickly said: “What’s their relationship? Are they lovers?” Juan’er wasn’t very willing to speak, only sighing: “Where exactly did you hear this from? Is there someone in this residence who’s been gossiping?”
Qiong Fang pestered relentlessly, laughing: “Never mind me—I dreamed it while sleeping. Tell me quickly.” Juan’er’s expression was somewhat reluctant. She hesitated for a long while and sighed: “Fine, since the person is already dead, I’ll tell you the truth…” She looked at Miss Gu’s fragrant boudoir and said quietly: “Brother Lu and Sister Gu were formerly engaged—they were betrothed.”
Though she had already expected this, Qiong Fang still gasped in surprise. The mystery was solved—why Lu Yun would travel thousands of li to Yangzhou, why he would sneak into Sister Gu’s boudoir, and why he would shed tears over Minister Gu’s death. His connection to the Gu residence was so deep.
Without doubt, the great water monster had someone in his heart, which made him silent and lifeless as death. Thinking of the great water monster’s quietly sleeping figure, Qiong Fang felt pity and her eyes couldn’t help but redden. Seeing her friend’s abnormal state, Juan’er called out: “Sister Fang!” Qiong Fang came to her senses and looked back at Juan’er, seeing her beautiful eyes staring at herself without blinking. Qiong Fang sighed: “What now?” Juan’er coughed and solemnly instructed: “Sister Fang, what I just told you are all events from ten years ago. Once you’ve heard them, that’s enough—you absolutely, absolutely must not mention them in the future. You know that Sister Gu is already someone else’s…”
Qiong Fang sighed: “I understand. She’s already married into an official family and become someone else’s wife.”
Juan’er felt relieved and nodded: “Good that you understand. Then I won’t say more.”
Women of that time valued reputation highly, and married women were bound by constraints. Since Miss Gu was Mrs. Yang, outsiders shouldn’t gossip or mention her former lover. As the young mistress of Purple Cloud Pavilion, well-versed in political affairs, how could Qiong Fang not understand worldly matters? She lay on the table, tapping bowls and plates with her chopsticks, and suddenly said: “Juan’er, how does Master Yang treat Sister Gu?” Juan’er was slightly startled and asked back: “Why are you asking this?” Qiong Fang shook her head: “Nothing, just curious.”
Juan’er made a sound of acknowledgment. She stared at Miss Gu’s boudoir and said directly: “Yang Suguan has always been a considerate person. Unlike my brother-in-law, no matter what a girl is thinking, he can mostly guess it. Back when Sister Gu married Yang Suguan, it made all the girls in Beijing furious. Just think—could her life be bad?” Qiong Fang looked at Juan’er and asked back: “Do you envy her too?”
Hearing this, Juan’er naturally gave Qiong Fang a fierce glare. Qiong Fang smiled, and the handsome appearance of Grand Secretary Yang floated up in her heart. This person held high position and great power, combining literary and martial talents—he was the foremost extraordinary man of today. That Miss Gu could marry such a husband naturally made people envious from the heart. She propped her chin with her hand and sighed slightly in her heart: “Great water monster, oh great water monster, you must try to look on the bright side.”
The great water monster was poor and had nothing—he had just crawled out from the waterfall with his head and face still wet. How could he compare to even one ten-thousandth of the other man? Qiong Fang stared blankly at the calligraphy and paintings on the wall, but her thoughts turned back to herself.
If she were Miss Gu, it would definitely be very fun. Caught between Master Yang and Master Lu, she wouldn’t worry at all. Secretly meeting her lover and making her husband so angry he’d burn down the house, making it known throughout Beijing—that would be truly spectacular.
As long as it was something she wanted to do, no one could stop her. Being pointed at by thousands, hated by relatives, punished by the court—the grander the scene, the more thrilled she’d be. Because there was only one such opportunity in a lifetime, and time flew like an arrow—she didn’t want to waste it…
Seeing Qiong Fang with a smile on her lips, Juan’er asked strangely: “What are you happy about now?” Qiong Fang played with her wine cup and said with a smile: “Where am I happy? I’m just gloating over others’ misfortune.” Seeing her friend’s uncomprehending expression, Qiong Fang widened her bright eyes and suddenly said: “Have you ever thought about what it would be like if Lord Lu returned to the capital one day?” Juan’er had been drinking wine when she suddenly heard this—the wine nearly sprayed out. She set down her cup heavily and said loudly: “Hey!” Qiong Fang imitated her manner and said sweetly: “Hey.” Juan’er was frustrated and angry: “You ‘hey’ me back! Which pot doesn’t boil, that’s the one you lift—what exactly do you want to do with all this crazy nonsense?” Qiong Fang shrugged and smiled: “You mind your own business. In any case, it’s fun.”
Juan’er felt slightly displeased and reproached: “You, you! Back when Brother Lu disappeared, weren’t my brother-in-law and Master Yang all anxious and frantic? If they hadn’t spent six whole years unable to find anyone, who would have considered him dead? And how could Sister Gu have married? You, you! Sister Gu finally settled down with great difficulty, and you keep bringing up this matter—have you ever considered her feelings?” Seeing Juan’er getting angry, Qiong Fang knew she was in the wrong and quickly stuck out her tongue, not daring to say more.
The two sat facing each other, each with their own thoughts for a moment. Suddenly, cold wind struck, making Qiong Fang sneeze several times. Juan’er turned to look and saw the window was white with snow blowing into the room—no wonder the house had become so cold. She got up to close the window and spat: “Look at you—such a big person and you don’t even know to close the window? No wonder you caught cold and got sick.” Just as she was nagging, she heard laughter from behind.
Suddenly hearing the word “Mother,” Juan’er couldn’t help but be startled. She turned to look and saw Qiong Fang lying on the table, pillowing her arm and smiling as she looked at her. Juan’er’s face reddened as she mumbled: “You… why are you calling me that?” Qiong Fang smiled: “Nothing, I just suddenly thought of my mother and couldn’t help calling out.”
Juan’er had been lively and jumping around all her life—she never thought the old word “Mother” would be associated with her. She looked down at her own attire and frowned: “How terrible—do I look old today?” Qiong Fang smiled: “Not at all. It’s just that if my mother were still alive, she’d probably say the same things you just said.” She pretended to act coquettishly and said softly: “Mother, your daughter wants to raise a little puppy—is that okay?” Hearing Qiong Fang’s continued teasing, Juan’er’s face turned angry red as she scolded: “Still raising pets? Didn’t you already keep a Su Xiaoquan? Why don’t you want him anymore?” Qiong Fang giggled: “Good, your mouth is really poisonous. Tomorrow I’ll have to tell my brother to be careful or he’ll beat you with his wisdom sword.”
Hearing about bringing reinforcements to a fight, Juan’er said resentfully: “What use is that surnamed loser? In a while, I’ll go cry to my crude brother-in-law and see if he comes to the door and lightly roars once, scaring your big-eyed cat into a squinting mouse.” The two continued their vicious banter, cursing all the men around them. The two beauties looked at each other and couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
After exchanging a few jokes, Juan’er also left the room, leaving Qiong Fang alone.
After drinking several cups of wine, Qiong Fang sat alone in Miss Gu’s fragrant boudoir. Hearing the distant sound of firecrackers, she couldn’t help but remember her relatives in Beijing.
She lay on the table and casually opened the personnel record. She wanted to look at that name—to look at the person from whom she was born and whom she thought of day and night…
Searching and searching, past events also surfaced in her heart. Qiong Fang suddenly closed the book forcefully, lay on the table, and began to cry softly.
She knocked over the candlestick and the light went out—this place became a dark room again. But… but… no one would come to see her anymore…
With tears streaming down her face, Qiong Fang tremblingly came to the window. She pushed open the window panels with all her might and sat on the cold windowsill.
Cold winds gusted, snow blew onto her long hair, and she saw the endless dark night sky stretching for thousands of li.
She looked up, trying to find that figure among the countless stars, but couldn’t see it anywhere. The little girl’s eyes filled with tears as she finally knelt down. She tightly embraced that personnel record and begged the person in heaven for guidance and instruction, asking to see the relative she had long missed.
Through tearful eyes, a meteor streaked across the sky, giving her a warm answer.