Chapter 43: Paying Homage to the Buddha

Once the carriage had gradually disappeared into the distance, the soldiers finally relaxed their grip on the street. Mingyue tugged at Qin Shi and said, “She… the noble consort who just passed by is that very lady.” Compared to Mingyue’s excitement, Qin Shi was much calmer. He nodded and replied, “I heard and saw it as well. What do you plan to do now?”

“Of course, we’ll follow her! Then we’ll look for a chance to have her place us in the entourage. That way, we won’t have to worry about getting into the palace. Come on, come on, let’s keep up.” Mingyue pulled at Qin Shi’s sleeve and hurried after the procession, chasing the fleeting shadows as best she could.

Before leaving, Qin Shi stopped a bystander to ask roughly where Heavenly Kingdom Temple was located.

The procession moved slowly; for Mingyue, walking behind wasn’t difficult, but the soldiers escorting the group were all highly vigilant, constantly scanning their surroundings. Mingyue found this exasperating, forced to dodge their watchful gazes at every turn. Before long, Qin Shi caught up with her.

“Where did you go?” Mingyue asked in a low voice, crouched in the shrubbery. As her words faded, a commotion erupted at the head of the procession. Mingyue shot to her feet and saw several dozen masked men in black, armed with blades, encircling the entire group. Instinctively, Mingyue recalled the gang that had barged into her ship’s cabin in search of the hairpin, and she tugged at Qin Shi’s sleeve, signaling him to look.

Qin Shi frowned, as if he too was beginning to doubt their earlier assumptions.

But what puzzled Mingyue was that, within the procession, not only did the soldiers remain unruffled, even the frail maidservants stood calmly, unfazed as if nothing were amiss.

Could it be they were used to being robbed?

The thought barely crossed Mingyue’s mind before the men in black clashed with the soldiers. The result was both expected and surprising: Mingyue hadn’t anticipated these masked assailants would be so feeble in combat. The soldiers dispatched them with a single stroke each. A few of the more formidable bandits broke through the ranks and one even reached the carriage.

The man opened his mouth, but Mingyue couldn’t hear what he said from this distance. She saw only the soldier behind him raise a gleaming blade without hesitation and bring it down in a flash. As the cold light slid past Mingyue’s eyes, the man’s head tumbled to the ground.

The procession reassembled and moved on as if nothing had happened. Throughout the whole ordeal, the beaded curtain of the carriage never so much as trembled, let alone showed any sign of life within.

For reasons she couldn’t explain, Mingyue felt uneasy in the face of such indifference. In the past, she would never have cared about the fate of these people. But now, this change in herself unsettled her, and she furrowed her brow. The more feelings one harbors, the more attachments one bears—and that would only prove a hindrance on the road ahead.

After more than an hour’s walk, a corner of the temple on the mountainside finally came into view.

When the main procession halted, Mingyue tried to slip into a secluded spot, but Qin Shi caught her.

“What is it?”

“Are you planning to just walk up there like this?”

They spoke almost in unison. Mingyue nodded, and Qin Shi continued, “Since it’s well known that Noble Consort Qi frequently comes here to pray, and the people of Yongzhou are aware, there likely won’t be any other worshippers at the temple today. The main entrances will be guarded by soldiers. I fear it will be quite impossible for you to sneak in.”

“Then what should we do? Go in from the back of the mountain?” Mingyue nodded, acknowledging the sense in Qin Shi’s words, and recalled the path linked to the rear mountain from the time they were abducted together by the woman in blue.

Qin Shi considered and nodded. The two of them skirted the outline of the temple, making their way toward the back, never imagining that the rear of the temple would open straight onto a sheer cliff. Mingyue looked at the impassable door and pouted, crestfallen. “Now what?”

Qin Shi was equally at a loss. They lingered helplessly in a corner near the rear exit.

Perhaps even the heavens felt pity for them, for soon enough, familiar voices drifted from behind the wall.

“Please inform the abbot there’s no need to make any further arrangements for Chuxue. I’ve already troubled your temple enough. The abbot’s forbearance is more than I deserve. There’s no need to prepare anything else.”

“Rest assured, miss. I will inform the abbot as you wish.”

Soon, footsteps receded. Once the faint sound vanished entirely, Mingyue had an idea. She asked Qin Shi to gather several sizable stones and then to give her a boost. Clinging precariously to the top of the wall, Mingyue tossed a few pebbles in Chuxue’s direction, successfully catching her attention.

When Chuxue looked over, Mingyue hurriedly called out, “Madam! Madam! Do you remember me, Mingyue? You told me to come!”

“Of course I remember. Do you have a way to get across?” Chuxue replied, gazing up, the pale sunlight lending her fair skin a translucent glow.

Mingyue shook her head, inwardly scolding herself that this was no time for admiring beauty. In a hushed tone, she said, “I’ll try.” She then asked Qin Shi, “Can you lift me a bit higher?”

Qin Shi nodded and, with another heave, hoisted Mingyue until she could grip the top of the wall. She climbed onto his shoulders and scrambled up. Inside the courtyard, Chuxue brought over several stools to help her climb down. But Mingyue lost her footing and tumbled to the ground, making a considerable noise.

Alarmed, Mingyue ducked into the flowerbed at the corner of the wall.

Sure enough, a monk soon arrived and asked, “Madam, is everything all right?”

“It’s nothing. Some stray cat must have knocked over the stool,” Chuxue replied, waving her wide sleeves. The young monk nodded and withdrew.

Only after a moment did Mingyue emerge, her face and hands scratched by rose thorns. Mingyue dared not cry out in pain and busied herself plucking out the thorns. Remembering Qin Shi was still outside, she stacked the stools and asked in a low voice, “Can you make it over?”

“Do you have any rope?”

Mingyue glanced back. Chuxue, having overheard, searched both the courtyard and the house and finally produced a length of grass rope. Mingyue tossed it over the wall, securing the other end with the stools at the corner so that, together with Chuxue, they could help pull Qin Shi across.

Qin Shi made it over without much trouble, but just then a maidservant arrived carrying tea. She moved so quietly that Mingyue didn’t notice her until she was nearly upon them. As Mingyue grabbed Qin Shi’s wrist, ready to hide again among the flowers, Chuxue gestured for them to stay put.

Though puzzled, Mingyue chose to trust her.

The maidservant glanced at Mingyue and Qin Shi without the slightest change in expression, set down the tea and pastries, and withdrew. Only then did Chuxue explain, “It’s all right. Zihua has been with me since childhood. She can be trusted. Zihua, please go fetch some medicine for Mingyue’s wounds.”

Zihua nodded and departed with the tray. Mingyue had nearly forgotten her pain, but Chuxue’s mention of it brought it back, and she instinctively reached up to touch her face—only to be stopped by Qin Shi. To distract herself, Mingyue asked, “Madam, how long will you be staying at Heavenly Kingdom Temple?”

“As before, seven days. If I return too soon, he’ll grow suspicious,” Chuxue replied softly.

“The Emperor?”

Chuxue did not answer, only tracing the rim of her teacup in silence.

Seeing her expression, Mingyue understood. The common folk all said that the Emperor lavished the Noble Consort with affection—so why did she seek the Song of Longing? Did she love another? The more Mingyue considered, the more her thoughts wandered, until she shook her head, brushing the distractions away.

Zihua soon returned, and Mingyue accompanied her inside to tend to her wounds, so she wouldn’t cry out in pain.

Chuxue, gazing at the roses in bloom in the courtyard, asked quietly, “Are you happy, serving at her side?”

“And what about you, Madam? Everyone says the Emperor dotes on you—why are you still so melancholy?” Qin Shi asked in return.

Chuxue smiled faintly and shook her head. “Even if the rumors are true, can affection alone suffice? The favor of an emperor is as fickle as the weather in June—how could it ever last?”

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