Chapter 25
Chapter 25: The Buddhist Scion Wakes Up, and Everyone Has a Shot
Old Chen Tou and Granny Chen crouched under the side room window, having watched the earlier scene from beginning to end.
“Tsk.” Granny Chen clicked her tongue, watching Little Peach flee in humiliation. “Didn’t expect that maid to have such a sharp mouth.”
“Little Peach leans on her father,” Old Chen Tou said. “She usually walks sideways among the maids. Today she finally kicked iron.”
He stroked his chin, watching Xiao Man close her door with quiet composure, back straight as a ruler—unbowed, unbroken.
“She’s got backbone,” he added. “Good. Saves us worrying she’ll get bullied.”
Granny Chen sighed, brows drawing tight again.
“She’s tough, sure. But old man—did you notice?”
“Lately there are more and more maids wandering under the walls of our Auspicious Cloud Residence.”
“Every one of them dressed bright as flowers, eyes glued to the crack in the yard gate. You can smell their thoughts from two miles away.”
Old Chen Tou snorted, full of disdain.
“Hmph. Cheap powder and rouge. With their little tricks, they think they can crowd up to Young Master? Aren’t they afraid of dirtying his eyes?”
“What kind of person is Young Master? He’s the Buddhist Scion, enlightened under Buddha’s seat. You think he’d spare a glance at that lot?”
Granny Chen pointed toward Xiao Man’s closed door, voice low, baffled.
“If cheap powder and rouge can’t catch his eye, then the one in that room… is she an immortal beauty descended from heaven?”
“She looks… only a hair better than cheap powder and rouge. Like plain rice porridge. Like simple greens.”
Old Chen Tou choked on the comparison, his face going awkward. He stroked his beard and tried to look profound.
“This… you don’t understand.”
“Young Master is the Buddhist Scion. His realm isn’t like ours.”
“Maybe that miss has some kind of… interest… some kind of wisdom root ordinary people can’t see, and Young Master noticed it.”
He stuffed the mystery into a basket labeled Buddha nature and called it an answer.
Granny Chen’s eyes lit up. She slapped her thigh.
“Aiyo! Old man, you’re clever! That makes sense. It must be that!”
At once, she felt Young Master’s taste regain its holy brilliance—far beyond a common woman’s understanding. Her earlier resentment faded away.
Her thoughts promptly drifted to sweeter things.
“Stone went with Young Master to Fa Hua Temple today. When they come back tonight, they’ll bring offering fruit again.” She smiled, already tasting it. “Last time that honey offering was so sweet.”
“I need to think who to share with—Granny Liu in the back courtyard, Granny Li in the flower garden…” Her face twisted in mock misery. “Aiya. What if there isn’t enough to go around?”
She sank into her delicious trouble and, for the moment, forgot all about rice porridge and cheap powder and rouge.
As for Xiao Man’s unpleasant encounter with Little Peach, Granny Chen only sniffed.
“Let her be. Next time might be worse.”
At the same time, in the back garden of Zhen Yuan General Residence—
In a shaded pavilion, three richly dressed young women sat around a stone table. Fine pastries and fragrant tea waited between them.
They were the three daughters of Lin Qing Xuan’s second uncle, Lin De Shang: the eldest, Lin Yu Wan, poised and cool; the second, Lin Yu Jiao, bright-eyed and lively; the youngest, Lin Yu Ning, still baby-cheeked, fully devoted to a piece of hibiscus cake.
“Tell me,” Lin Yu Jiao said, pinching an almond crisp without eating it, eyes practically sparkling, “what kind of miss could possibly blind our ‘immortal’ cousin over at Uncle’s place?”
“This news reached our manor too,” she went on, lowering her voice as if gossip itself were precious. “I heard Grandmother and Big Aunt both quietly approved. And it’s a maid?”
Lin Yu Wan set down her tea cup with delicate restraint. Her expression held disbelief threaded with helplessness.
“Yes. It’s strange. In the past, he wouldn’t budge for anything. Noble girls sent messages through all sorts of channels—he refused them all. Even the palace’s meaning was politely turned aside.” She shook her head. “And now…”
Lin Yu Ning swallowed her bite, lips shining with crumbs and sweetness.
“What’s wrong with a maid?” she asked innocently. “In storybooks, don’t misses run away with scholars, and maids seduce masters all the time?”
Lin Yu Jiao laughed and poked her little sister’s forehead.
“Little glutton. All you do is read storybooks. How is that the same?”
Then she leaned toward Lin Yu Wan, eyes bright with mischievous sympathy.
“Big Sis, you don’t even know. Our handkerchief friends—and your chamber friends too—how many asked us to pass messages to cousin, hoping to arrange a ‘chance meeting’ to confess their feelings? If not ten, then eight.”
“Every one of them had a good family, good looks, and talent.” She lifted her chin, then stiffened her face, mimicking Lin Qing Xuan’s cool calm.
“‘This monk’s heart holds only Buddha. Do not mention worldly passions again.’”
She clicked her tongue. “Heartless. We had to go back and tell those misses that cousin is devoted to Buddha—meeting him would only bring embarrassment and trouble.”
Lin Yu Wan’s eyes softened with memory—those disappointed, awkward faces—before she sighed.
“Exactly. That’s why this is so shocking.”
“I heard the third miss from Yong Chang Marquis House and the legitimate daughter from Zhang assistant minister’s household in the Ministry of Rites both sent invitations yesterday,” she added quietly. “They said it’s been a long time and want to invite us to admire flowers.”
Her tone said what she didn’t need to.
The timing was too convenient.
Lin Yu Jiao’s excitement flared. She tapped the table lightly.
“Right! Before, there was no hope. Cousin’s heart was like stone—you couldn’t warm it. But now it’s different.”
“If he can feel mortal desire for a maid, then he’s not truly ‘incapable.’ It’s just that he never met the right person before!”
She leaned back, eyes spinning with plans.
“That means our handkerchief friends and chamber friends… have a chance too. Any one of them is a hundred times better than a maid!”
Lin Yu Wan’s brows knit. “Yu Jiao. Don’t cause trouble. Cousin’s matters will be handled by Uncle and Big Aunt. Besides, if that maid caught his eye, she must have something special. If we interfere rashly—”
“Aiya, Big Sis, you’re too cautious!” Lin Yu Jiao waved her off. “We’re not doing anything terrible. We’re just creating opportunities.”
“Let cousin meet real noble ladies more often. Maybe then he’ll realize that maid is just roadside wild grass—how could she compare to tree peonies and herb peonies raised with care?”
“Then he’ll choose naturally,” she declared, utterly convinced. “We’re doing it for his own good.”
Lin Yu Ning licked a crumb off her finger and looked from sister to sister, still confused.
“But… what if cousin likes wild grass?” she asked. “In storybooks, lots of scholars like unruly maid misses…”
Lin Yu Jiao glared at her, half amused, half exasperated.
“Eat your pastries. And read fewer of those messy books.”
In the pavilion, the sisters’ thoughts tugged in different directions.
Far away at Fa Hua Temple, Lin Qing Xuan’s voice carried over the listening crowd as he reached the line:
“All forms are empty illusions.”
His gaze swept calmly over the devoted faces below.
Yet in the deepest stillness of his eyes, a faint ripple passed—an awareness, like distant thunder, of something approaching.
Something called tree peonies and herb peonies.
A perfume of worldly passion.
His fingers rolled the prayer beads a fraction faster.