Chapter 037
Chapter 37: Buddha’s Chosen, The Iron Tree Blooms
Xiu He sprinted into Green Briar Court, breathless and loud like an actress stepping off the stage. She painted the scene for Old Madam in bright colors as she said: “Old Madam, you didn’t see it! The Eldest Grandson Young Master was heartbroken for Xiao Man. He held her like a rare treasure, set her down with such care, and his eyes… tsk, I didn’t even dare look too long. And that girl Xiao Man somehow had the courage to touch the Young Master’s head. The Young Master didn’t get mad at all but stood there like a wooden post and let her. After that he applied the medicine himself. He was more careful than those ladies in the Imperial Palace painting their brows.”
Old Madam leaned back on the couch, eyes narrowing to happy slits as she forgot to count her prayer beads. Her smile nearly reached her ears as she clapped her thigh and laughed: “Oh my! The iron tree has bloomed, the Monk is moved. This is better than an opera! Good, good, good. Now this old Granny can surely hold a great-grandson before I close my eyes.”
After laughing, she suddenly sobered, and her smile faded. She said in a slower voice: “I don’t know what that girl Xiao Man is thinking. Is she still fixed on leaving the manor?”
She crooked a finger at Xiu He and ordered: “Tomorrow, go again to the Auspicious Cloud Residence. Take the best Blood Notoginseng from my store for her bruises. And sound her out. Ask if she can still bear to leave now.”
Hearing the weight on the word “bear,” Xiu He bowed and said: “I understand. I’ll go first thing in the morning.”
She then went to find Dong Chun and retold the “grand spectacle” at the Auspicious Cloud Residence with extra spice. Dong Chun was so shocked that her piece of lard candy fell with a clack, rolled a few times, and came up gray with dust. She blurted: “Heavenly Lord! The Eldest Grandson Young Master carried Xiao Man? And even applied medicine himself? Did the sun rise in the west?” But when she heard how badly Xiao Man had been beaten, her round, chubby face puckered with worry as she sighed: “Xiao Man Sister is pitiful. Her days ahead may not be peaceful.”
Meanwhile, in First Madam’s rooms, Granny Chen reenacted the scene of the Buddha’s Chosen personally applying medicine. First Madam gripped her teacup so hard her fingers went white, and her face was as dark as storm clouds. She said through tight teeth: “My Xuan… my noble Buddha’s Chosen… actually put medicine on a lowly maid.”
Her chest rose and fell, then she forced herself to breathe and said: “Forget it. For the sake of an heir, I will endure. If he wakes up to his duty and carries on the Lin Clan line, then I’ll count it as merit before our ancestors.”
She slammed the fine celadon cup down. Scalding tea splashed and soaked the expensive Su-embroidery tablecloth, spreading into a dark stain.
In the second branch, Third Miss Lin Yu Jiao combed the hair by her temple and patted her chest in relief as she said: “Good thing Eldest Sister warned me early and made my foolish maid Chun Cao cut ties with Xiao Tao. If Grandmother’s anger came my way, where would I put my face?” She rolled her eyes at her mirror image and muttered: “That Xiao Man… either hit the jackpot or drew the worst lot.”
At the very center of all this talk, Xiao Man lay sprawled on the carved big bed of the Auspicious Cloud Residence, the “luxury staff dorm.” Cool ointment soothed her swollen cheeks, and fine bruise-dispelling powder covered the dark patches on her belly. It still hurt like crazy if she moved, but her heart was light.
She counted with glee: “Work injury!” This was clearly a work injury. First Madam had said with her own mouth that she should rest until healed before serving the Young Master again. Old Madam had sent her trusted Xiu He with medicine and treats. Lin Qing Xuan felt so guilty that he didn’t even dare dream these two nights, probably afraid the Empathic Link would make him feel another beating.
She thought, delighted: [This is called turning misfortune into blessing.] No rising before dawn to pay respects, no pouring tea, no guarding against a Buddha’s Chosen’s “night raids,” and no brain-burning battles of wits. Three meals arrived at her bedside with respect, even the wash water was warm. Sunlight fell through the window, birds chirped, and the air carried a faint smell of medicine and sunshine. Could there be a more perfect paid vacation? No.
She took a bite of the candied fruit that Dong Chun had smuggled in and squinted with sugary joy. She thought: [Taking a beating in exchange for at least half a month of peace is a bargain.] The stay-safe plan hadn’t stalled at all. It had actually leaped forward. She was now a full fifteen days closer to freedom.
She sighed in comfort, buried her face in the new, fluffy brocade quilt, and breathed in the clean sun-dried scent. In her heart she punched the air and cheered silently: [Work injury forever. Lying flat makes sense.]
That night, after her calming soup, Xiao Man had a strange dream. It was long and eerie.
In the dream, she stood on a towering black altar that reached the clouds. Black Demonic Qi roared below her feet. The howls of countless demons shook her very soul. She wore a snow-white holy robe and held a long sword burning with golden flames. Its tip pointed at the man in the center of the altar, bound fast by thick chains.
The man slowly raised his head. It was Lin Qing Xuan’s face. But his eyes were completely different. There was no cool calm, only viciousness, madness, and hate strong enough to tear the world apart.
He gave a low, hoarse laugh that sounded like a ghost rasping as he said: “Saintess, you think you can keep me trapped forever?”
Her own voice echoed back, cold and far, empty of feeling, as she said: “Devil Sovereign, you have killed too many. The Heavenly Dao will not allow you.”
He laughed up at the sky, the chains clanging as he said: “The world is the strong over the weak. That is my path. My path is the Heavenly Dao.”
Suddenly the scene shattered. She saw herself drive the golden sword straight into the Devil Sovereign’s heart. As golden light tangled with black smoke and exploded, a single strand of pure kindness was torn from him, broke into tiny stars, and faded into the void. His last words rolled across heaven and earth again and again: “Do you think… you can cut me away?” “We… will meet again.”
She jolted upright with a cry, cold sweat soaking her thin inner shirt. Outside, the night was still deep. The taste of the calming soup lingered on her tongue, but the dream felt too real. Every detail was stamped into her mind. She panted hard, her heart pounding like a drum.
She tried to brush it off, thinking: [Must be aftereffects of the beating. What a complete mess of a dream. Saintess and Devil Sovereign? He might act uptight, but he’s a true Buddha’s Chosen. How could he be a demon?] She smirked at herself and thought: [I really was a leftover woman in my last life, unmarried even at thirty five.] Her eyelids grew heavy again, and she drifted back to sleep.
At that same moment, inside the Auspicious Cloud Residence, Lin Qing Xuan snapped his eyes open from meditation as a stabbing pain pierced his chest. He tore open his robe and saw, right over his heart, a gold sword mark about an inch long, its edges scorched and oozing thin threads of blood.
He thought of the Empathic Link: [Did Xiao Man have some strange dream? But why didn’t I see the same dream? Why did I only feel the pain from it?]