Chapter 10

High-ranking mountain temples were often tucked into secluded hills, and Tianyang Temple was no exception. To make it easier for pilgrims to walk, a broad and gently sloped gravel road had been laid.

The Li family’s carriage rolled steadily upward along the gravel path. After passing through a serene bamboo grove, the view opened up: Tianyang Temple featured triple-tiered eaves and elegant upward-curving roofs, richly painted and brightly colored. The scent of incense hung thick in the air, rivaling even the great temples of Luoyang.

Madam Qian and Yaoyao stepped down from the carriage. A young Daoist, his face still boyish, came forward, bowed with clasped hands in the traditional greeting, and said, “Peace to Madam Qian and Madam Xie.”

After bowing and lighting incense within the temple, Madam Lin turned to the young Daoist and said, “I sent word yesterday. We’d like to consult Master Gao about our fortunes.”

The young Daoist replied, “Master Gao is awaiting the guests.”

Back in the carriage, Madam Lin had reminded Madam Qian to prepare a token offering—something she was long used to doing. She retrieved a small pouch of silver from her sleeve.

Since Da Qi’s copper coinage was often flawed, silver was the preferred currency. The young Daoist gratefully accepted the silver and led the party to a rear chamber.

Inside, a Taiji diagram and eight trigram symbols decorated the room. Master Gao, clad in a deep indigo Daoist robe, sat cross-legged on a cushioned couch. Though he was over fifty, his white hair was not as heavy as Li Wang’s, and his flowing beard lent him the air of a true immortal.

Yaoyao sat beside Madam Qian on a meditation cushion while Madam Lin, with subtle eagerness, addressed Master Gao: “These are the two new madams of the Prefect’s residence.”

They offered papers detailing birth dates and horoscopes.

Master Gao performed divinations with pinched fingers. His noble demeanor impressed Madam Qian, who already found herself half believing in his skill.

After a short pause, Master Gao fixed his gaze on Yaoyao and said, “This guest was not meant to marry into the Li family.”

Madam Qian was surprised. “How do you see that?”

Master Gao replied, “She has a round, balanced face, a prosperous Ziwei star, and yet possesses two marriage palaces—one strong, one weak. This is a double fate in matrimony. It suggests an original bond was disrupted.”

Madam Qian exclaimed, “That’s surprisingly accurate! What about me?”

As Master Gao turned to assess the mother-in-law’s fortune, Madam Lin and Fang Qiaoniang stayed where they were, not attempting to leave. But Yaoyao, disliking intrusion into personal matters, quietly rose and excused herself from the room.

Nanny Zheng, standing beside Yaoyao, asked, “Is that Master Gao really so gifted?”

Yaoyao shook her head. “If one bothered to ask around in Luoyang, they’d know it was my elder sister who was originally engaged to the Li family.”

From that, deducing her fortune was hardly difficult.

Given how revered Li Shan was in Bingzhou, monks and priests working in his territory would quietly gather information about him. Not necessarily to flatter, but at least to avoid offending.

So, Yaoyao didn’t believe Master Gao truly had divine insight. In fact, their blatant probing into Li Shan’s affairs ran directly counter to his blunt and clear-cut nature. He couldn’t possibly be fond of temples or monasteries.

Yaoyao had the feeling that this might be her final visit to such a place. Though she kept a respectful distance from gods and spirits, she still found the well-crafted scenery here worth exploring and admiring. She focused on enjoying it, walking into a quiet bamboo path. The view was a wash of green, the scent of bamboo leaves fresh and clean. When the wind rustled through the leaves, it rang out like metal and stone, reminding her, in a flash, of spring outings in Luoyang with her sisters.

Nanny Zheng added, “This place really does resemble that mountain temple you used to visit with the young miss.”

Yaoyao smiled softly. “So Nanny remembers that too.”

It had only been a couple of weeks since she left Luoyang, yet it felt like a lifetime.

Suddenly, a rustling came from the shadows—someone stepping lightly but accidentally crunching dry bamboo leaves beneath their feet, unnaturally loud.

Nanny Zheng grew alert and moved to shield Yaoyao, eyes fixed on the sound.

Out from the bamboo came a round-faced Daoist nun, clad in robes, who greeted them and said, “Honored guests, just past this grove is Tianyang Temple’s women’s sanctuary. There you may pray for children or marriage blessings. Would you like to come take a look?”

Not to mention how strange this person’s sudden appearance was—Yaoyao had no intention of visiting the other temple in the first place. In unfamiliar places, it’s best not to change plans abruptly.

Nanny Zheng glanced at Yaoyao, who shook her head.

So Nanny Zheng politely declined: “That won’t be necessary.”

As the two turned back, the Daoist nun followed a few steps behind, muttering something. Just then, Yaoyao and Nanny Zheng ran into Madam Qian.

Madam Qian, accompanied by one of her attendants, said, “Where did you go? I’ve been looking all over for you.”

Earlier in the room, when Master Gao had read Madam Qian’s fortune, every word had felt convincing to her—she now believed his insights completely, swept up in his predictions and promises. She was especially drawn to his claim that although she currently had only one grown son, in time she would be surrounded by grandchildren, basking in familial bliss.

Madam Qian pressed her stomach. Her body had been weakened since her serious illness nine years ago—unable to bear children herself, such blessings would have to come through Yaoyao. And so, she wanted Yaoyao to hear it firsthand.

Madam Qian said, “Master Gao is truly gifted. Come with me and hear what he has to say.”

Yaoyao was about to agree, but the Daoist nun quickly stepped up and interjected, “Madam seeks insight into children, yes? Then why ask Master Gao, when he was trained by my own master?”

Madam Qian, intrigued, asked, “And who exactly are you?”

The nun repeated her earlier pitch, again focusing on fertility and descendants. Not one to shy away from abundance, Madam Qian waved decisively: “Fine, let’s go have a look!”

The nun received a small pouch of silver and accepted it with a beaming smile, repeatedly thanking her.

The nun clearly just wanted to steal business. But since the mother-in-law was convinced, Yaoyao didn’t dampen the mood and followed Madam Qian across a patch of bamboo.

They did indeed arrive at a women’s temple, but it was nowhere near as grand as Tianyang Temple—its doors were peeling, and the surrounding vegetation was untended and sparse, giving it a shabby feel.

Madam Qian already felt a touch of regret, but since they’d come this far…

The nun led them into a small thatched hut and invited them to take a seat. Another old woman, half-blind in one eye, served coarse tea.

The old woman fixed her remaining eye on Yaoyao, staring intently. Even Madam Qian, usually slow to notice such things, felt uncomfortable and muttered, “Who is this woman? Send her away.”

The old woman said nothing, merely bowed her head and offered the tea.

The nun explained: “This old woman likely hasn’t seen someone as naturally beautiful as Madam and was simply struck dumb.” She continued, “I specialize in reading palms—might I ask Madam to extend her right hand?”

After all, she was just an old woman, so Madam Qian didn’t give it much thought. She gestured for Yaoyao to extend her hand, hoping to wrap things up quickly and return to Master Gao.

Yaoyao extended her hand. The Daoist nun gripped Yaoyao’s pale wrist and studied it with intense focus, suddenly exclaiming in shock, “This… this is a phoenix destiny!”

Yaoyao and Madam Qian: “……”

Just as Madam Qian was about to scold her for speaking nonsense, the old woman who had served the tea abruptly looked up. Her eyes twisted into a vicious glare as she pulled a sharp knife from her sleeve and lunged at Yaoyao.

The attack happened in an instant. Yaoyao, horrified, dodged—just barely. The blade grazed a lock of her hair, slicing it clean.

With a raspy voice, the old woman shouted, “Xie family scum! You caused my entire family to die in war. You must die!”

Nanny Zheng rushed forward to restrain her. Madam Qian’s attendant tried to seize the knife. Chaos erupted, and Madam Qian—unaccustomed to such violence—screamed and shrank back.

Amid the commotion, the Daoist nun clutched Yaoyao’s hand tightly and cried out, “Young Madam, run!”

Her strength was formidable. She pulled Yaoyao toward the door. After a few steps, Yaoyao sensed something was wrong and tried to cling to the doorframe, but the nun grabbed both her hands and dragged her out.

Nanny Zheng saw the scene unfold and yelled, “Young Madam!”

But the crazed old woman had gone berserk, her strength terrifying—Madam Qian’s two maids struggled to restrain her.

Outside, the nun held Yaoyao’s hands together and swiftly bound them with a rope.

Unable to break free, Yaoyao fought to steady her trembling breath and pleaded, “Please, Master—don’t go down the wrong path. If it’s money you want, I have it. If it’s something else, the Li household can afford it too.”

The Daoist nun said, “Letting you live is already a pang of conscience. Rest assured—you’re blessed with beauty, so I’ll try not to let you suffer.”

Before Yaoyao could react, the nun struck the back of her neck, causing her to lose consciousness.

…

That same day, traveling north from Luoyang, Li Shan had driven Tuoba Cong as far as Yuchuan County within half a day—he was always used to marching at this pace, fast enough to circle back and retrieve his mother if needed.

This time, even though he hadn’t ordered a forced march, the soldiers moved with uncanny coordination.

By midday, as they began preparing food, a few soldiers crouched together, whispering: “The General just got married, and now he’s burdened with court assignments. The imperial court truly has no heart.”

“If I were just married, I wouldn’t want to leave either. If my wife resents me in the future, I’d definitely regret it.”

“Exactly. That’s why we have to move quicker—so the General doesn’t live with regret.”

…

Xin Zhi coughed. “You lot are getting bold. Watch your tongues.”

The soldiers jumped in fright and scrambled to their feet, cupping their fists when they saw the General behind them. “General!”

Li Shan said nothing.

Xin Zhi waved them off, and they fled swiftly.

Li Shan seemed lost in thought and let out a dry laugh. He asked Xin Zhi, “Do you think I’d regret it?”

Xin Zhi didn’t dare tread carelessly. “General is wise and never does anything he regrets. Well… aside from that time you let Tuoba Cong slip away.”

Indeed, this wasn’t the first time Li Shan had captured Tuoba Cong. Years ago, he’d apprehended him, but a noble-born officer had tried to claim credit, and in one misstep, Tuoba Cong escaped. Li Shan had been furious and full of regret ever since—only now had he finally purged that bitterness.

Sensing the jest, Li Shan kicked Xin Zhi.

Just then, Du Ming rode up. Before his horse had even stopped, he leapt down and rushed to Li Shan, breathless.

“General! Madam and Young Madam were attacked at Tianyang Temple!”

“Madam Qian has been stabbed, and the Young Madam has been abducted! My lord, please—return at once!”

A vein pulsed at Li Shan’s temple.

Xin Zhi was shocked—had it not been Du Ming delivering the news, he would’ve thought it a cruel joke. In Bingzhou, someone dared to injure the wife of the regional prefect and kidnap his daughter-in-law?

He immediately turned to Li Shan.

Li Shan’s face darkened, shadowed with storm clouds. His fist slowly clenched, but his voice was unnaturally calm. “Everyone else stays put. Prepare the horses. Du Ming, you’re coming with me.”

Neither Xin Zhi nor Du Ming dared breathe too loudly and rushed to carry out his orders.

If Li Shan were merely angry, he’d have exploded on the spot and moved on. But this eerie composure—it was fury turned inward, pressure building in his chest, waiting to erupt.

…

Yaoyao regained consciousness amid the jostling of carriage wheels. She dared not open her eyes at first, sensing her surroundings instead. Beneath her was straw. The cart was open-air, and her hands and feet were tightly bound with rope.

Then she opened her eyes and began to match her senses to what she saw. Judging from the sky, it had been no more than half an hour since the incident at the women’s temple.

The nun was driving a donkey cart. Donkeys were far slower than horses. At this hour, unless they were flying, they couldn’t possibly have left Bingzhou.

Yaoyao gave herself a mental reassurance.

Suddenly, the cart stopped. The nun climbed down, took a bundle of straw, and began sweeping away the wheel tracks from the road. She looked back at the cart. Yaoyao quickly closed her eyes and pretended to be still unconscious.

The nun muttered, “Girls from Luoyang really are delicate—one little hit and she’s passed out this long.”

Yaoyao: “…”