Chapter 12: White Horse Temple, Underhanded Tactics

The arrival of Pearl was like a small stone cast into the tranquil waters of Reed Court, sending ripples across its calm surface.

The reason was simple: the one-month observation period that Shen Qingyun had mentioned was drawing to a close.

Now, Pearl was always by Yicui’s side, so she had plenty of chances to appear before Shen Qingyun. It seemed Shen Qingyun was also kind and amiable toward her, even showing signs of favor.

Everyone knew that if a maid could frequently appear before the mistress, her prospects for promotion would naturally be brighter. However, with all the positions for first-class and second-class maids already filled, Pearl’s arrival might mean someone would be pushed aside.

The Second Miss was gentle by nature and favored by the Lady of the house, so the treatment within the courtyard was quite good. Everyone wished to stay. Some maids, growing jealous, began to trip up Pearl, both openly and in secret, but Pearl never uttered a word in protest—she simply and diligently fulfilled her duties.

Madam Jiang watched all of this with discerning eyes, and her fondness for Pearl grew.

Shen Qingyun returned to her routine of studying daily under Master Xu. Shen Sisi, meanwhile, remained confined to the courtyard, copying texts as punishment. Shen Zhifeng had voiced his dissatisfaction, but he seldom involved himself in household matters and was out and about daily, occupied with who knew what.

Most likely, he was busy indulging himself in the pleasures of the world, Shen Qingyun mused, but she was disinclined to care, simply relishing the peaceful time spent alone with her mother each day.

The weather was growing warmer. That day, however, the Marchioness of Jiang suddenly invited them to Baima Temple for incense offerings.

Madam Han thought it over and agreed, but did not bring Shen Sisi along.

Shen Qingyun felt a touch of helplessness. She knew that both the Marchioness of Jiang and her own mother shared the same intent: they hoped she would have more opportunities to interact with Jiang Lin, as her coming-of-age was next year.

This had happened in her previous life as well, but because Shen Sisi had accompanied them then, even though she walked between the two, she could not prevent their mutual glances and silent understanding.

This time, she resolved to focus solely on her devotions and return home afterward.

Just as she had anticipated, as soon as they arrived at Baima Temple, Madam Han and the Marchioness arranged to listen to a Zen discourse.

“Qingyun, the scenery behind Baima Temple is exquisite. I know young people find it hard to sit still. Since it’s a rare outing, why not stroll around the back mountain?” Madam Han suggested.

“Yes, Lin’er, you’ve been here before, so I’ll entrust Qingyun’s safety to you. Show her around,” the Marchioness added with a smile.

Before leaving, Jiang Lin had been repeatedly reminded by his mother, so he agreed readily.

“Qingyun, let’s go,” Jiang Lin said.

Shen Qingyun felt goosebumps rise but said nothing, following Jiang Lin toward the back mountain.

Jiang Lin still brooded over their last conversation. He could hardly believe that a country girl like her had shown no interest in him and had even spoken to him so sternly.

Unable to help himself, Jiang Lin stole another glance at Shen Qingyun.

Because she was here for worship, her attire was simple today. Her white brocade dress was embroidered with lilies only at the hem and cuffs, and she wore no excessive hair ornaments—just a flowing green ribbon. Compared to their previous meeting, her skin seemed even fairer and more delicate, her lips soft and pink, long lashes framing clear yet unfathomable eyes. She carried herself with an elegant, ethereal grace.

Jiang Lin found himself momentarily dazed.

He had to admit, Shen Qingyun’s beauty perhaps even surpassed Shen Sisi’s, stirring a vague, indescribable feeling within him.

But Shen Qingyun, now growing impatient under his gaze, said directly, “Lord Jiang, men and women should maintain propriety. Though my sister is not here, I’m sure you wouldn’t want her to misunderstand. There are plenty of monks around; it’s safe enough. Let’s explore separately.”

Jiang Lin’s expression darkened. “Are you so reluctant to spend time with me?”

Shen Qingyun was baffled by his question. Had he not always avoided her?

No matter. She simply turned and walked away, letting her actions answer for her. She did, however, notice the lingering, reluctant gaze Red Jade cast her way.

Of course—she remembered Red Jade had confessed in her previous life to having long been smitten with Jiang Lin. That was why she’d brought Red Jade along today, to test her suspicions.

Just after rounding a corner, Red Jade couldn’t contain herself. “Miss, didn’t Madam say the young lord was to show you around?”

“Lord Jiang’s affections are for my sister. Naturally, we should keep our distance,” Shen Qingyun replied, giving Red Jade a meaningful look. “What is it—do you object?”

“No, Miss,” Red Jade answered awkwardly, though her eyes betrayed unwillingness.

Shen Qingyun had no wish to deal with her for now, so she said, “Return to the guest room. I’d like to walk alone for a while.”

Red Jade seemed to think of something and agreed at once. Shen Qingyun smirked inwardly—no doubt she hoped to ‘accidentally’ encounter Jiang Lin. Let her try her luck.

It was rare for Shen Qingyun to visit Baima Temple, and she wanted nothing more than a quiet stroll. Having lived anew, she found herself holding a newfound reverence for such places.

She wandered into a bamboo grove, where a faint scent of sandalwood drifted through the air.

“Too many stray thoughts, benefactress. What’s past is past. Repay resentment with virtue, let go of hatred, and only then will you find your own world.”

The unexpected voice startled Shen Qingyun. She turned to see an elderly monk she hadn’t noticed before—kind-faced and holding a string of prayer beads.

She smiled slightly and replied, “If resentment is repaid with virtue, how should virtue itself be repaid?”

The old monk did not answer. Shen Qingyun performed a respectful gesture and, seeing the grove was occupied, made to leave.

“Master Wuchen, it seems you cannot persuade anyone today,” came a cool and magnetic voice.

A tall figure emerged from the depths of the bamboo grove—a man dressed in a dark, narrow-sleeved robe with subtle patterns. At his cuffs, golden threads traced auspicious clouds, and at his waist, a vermilion and white jade sash held an exquisite milky-white pendant. His bearing was aloof, nobility exuding from every gesture.

His gaze lingered on Shen Qingyun’s departing figure until she vanished from sight.

Shen Qingyun felt as if someone was watching her from behind. Instinct told her that whoever it was would not be easy to deal with, so she pretended to notice nothing and quickly left the grove.

Upon returning to the guest room, she found Red Jade already waiting at the door. Seeing her return, Red Jade hurriedly poured her a cup of tea. “Miss, you must be thirsty after such a long walk. Please, have some tea to quench your thirst.”

Such eagerness struck Shen Qingyun as suspicious. After just a small sip, her keen senses detected a faint sweetness, mingled with a strange floral aroma.

Her taste was sharper than most, so she feigned wiping her mouth and spit the tea into her handkerchief.

So, they were still resorting to such petty tricks—though this time, it seemed to be happening far earlier than in her past life.

A blazing fury ignited in her heart. How she longed for a peaceful and happy life—but these people had wronged her in her previous life and clearly had no intention of letting her go in this one. Since that was so, how could she ever forgive the sins they had committed?

Yet in an instant, Shen Qingyun felt her cheeks grow hot, her head spinning, and even Red Jade seemed to blur into two before her eyes.