Chapter 30
Gu Xiyan was exhausted. She heard the Third Madam making a racket, shouting and causing a scene, but she was too weary and drained to react, sinking instead into a deep, dark void.
She didn’t know how much time had passed before the noise returned. The courtyard was filled with people, and there seemed to be chanting, a constant, murmuring drone.
Her head throbbed, pain splitting it open. She wanted to tell them all to get out, but she couldn’t. Her throat was dry and hoarse; no words would come. Her body felt weak and achy, her fingers lacking even the strength to twitch.
She endured this delirious state until evening, when she finally felt herself breaking free from the heaviness and weakness. Strength slowly returned to her limbs, and she even began to feel hungry.
It was the first time in days of illness that she had felt an appetite.
Qiu Sang nearly cried upon hearing this. “If you’re hungry, it means you’re getting better!”
She immediately instructed a young maid to bring thin porridge, which had been kept warm with hot water, ready for whenever Gu Xiyan might wake up hungry.
Gu Xiyan leaned half-upright on the couch while Qiu Sang served her, feeding her spoonful by spoonful. After half a bowl, she gradually regained some strength.
With clarity returning, her mind began to work again.
She thought about the people in the Duke’s mansion and her sister-in-law. She said to Sun Momo, “Send someone to inform my sister-in-law that I’m feeling better. Tell her she can visit me in a few days.”
Sun Momo agreed repeatedly and hurried out.
Once they were alone, Qiu Sang asked, “Madam, do you remember what happened while you were ill?”
Gu Xiyan looked confused. “What?”
Checking that no one else was around, Qiu Sang lowered her voice. “When you were sick, you hit the Third Madam.”
Gu Xiyan was startled. “Really? Did I actually hit her?”
At the time, she had been in a daze, vaguely feeling as though she were dreaming. Had she really done it?
Qiu Sang nodded, her eyes shining brightly. “Yes, Madam, you hit the Third Madam. You hit her like this—”
Qiu Sang raised her hand to demonstrate, slapping once, then again, before miming grabbing hair and pulling hard, yanking fiercely.
Her imitation was vivid and lively. Gu Xiyan couldn’t believe it. “I hit the Third Madam, and she wasn’t angry?”
Qiu Sang burst into laughter and described the scene in detail, recounting what Sun Momo had said.
Gu Xiyan grew even more skeptical. “They actually believed that?”
“Some did, some didn’t,” Qiu Sang replied. “But when the Old Madam arrived, she definitely believed it. Now the Old Madam has ordered us to take good care of you and wait until you wake up to discuss anything further.”
Gu Xiyan fell silent for a moment before asking again, “So, how many times did I slap the Third Madam?”
“Twice!”
“Only twice…”
Qiu Sang was speechless.
Gu Xiyan carefully recalled those two slaps, imagining how severely she had beaten the Third Madam, and felt as if seventy or eighty percent of her illness had vanished.
Qiu Sang muttered, “Madam, stop thinking about it for now. Eat more. You haven’t had a proper meal in several days.”
For the past few days, she and Chun Lan had struggled to feed Gu Xiyan small amounts of rice soup and medicinal broth. It had been incredibly difficult.
Gu Xiyan asked, “How many days have I been sick?”
“A full three days,” Qiu Sang said, reciting a Buddhist prayer. “Thank goodness you’re better.”
Hearing this, Gu Xiyan suddenly remembered Lu Chenglian and the egg. A sense of dread washed over her.
In three days, the drawing on the duck egg would have developed. If Lu Chenglian peeled the egg now, he would see her artwork.
Of course, he might have already peeled it.
At this thought, Gu Xiyan’s body went limp, and her face burned. The fever that had subsided seemed to be rising again.
She felt as if her heart were being peeled open, exposed for everyone to see.
She sank softly against the bolster pillow, feeling light and unmoored, as if floating in midair with no sense of reality.
Just then, footsteps sounded outside. Ping’er rushed in, lifting the curtain hastily. “The Old Madam, along with the Second and Third Madams, are here!”
Gu Xiyan was startled and tried to sit up, but Qiu Sang quickly urged, “Madam, lie down! Stay lying down!”
Gu Xiyan realized she was right. Since she was supposed to be ill, she lay back down immediately. Qiu Sang flusteredly tucked the brocade quilt around her.
Soon, the Old Madam entered, surrounded by daughters-in-law and young ladies. Qiu Sang, Chun Lan, Ping’er, and the others hurried to greet them. Gu Xiyan feebly opened her eyes, pretending to struggle to rise from the couch.
The Old Madam naturally stopped her. “Since you aren’t well, there’s no need for these empty formalities.”
She examined Gu Xiyan closely and asked Li Shipo standing beside her, “Look at her complexion. Is she recovering?”
Li Shipo, commonly known as a Daoist nun, was originally a servant at Baiyun Convent. Because the Old Madam frequently visited the convent to offer incense, Li Shipo had attended to her diligently. With a glib tongue and a knack for explaining Buddhist karma, the Old Madam considered her sensible. Whenever the Old Madam had nightmares or unresolved worries, she would invite Li Shipo to consult. Given the current situation, her presence was inevitable.
Li Shipo dared not be careless. She stepped forward, pretended to examine Gu Xiyan thoroughly, and then suddenly clapped her hands. “Indeed, the Sixth Master has returned!”
The Old Madam was overjoyed, but everyone else felt a chill run down their spines. Even the Third Madam glanced cautiously at Gu Xiyan.
The Old Madam questioned Li Shipo in detail, then turned to ask Gu Xiyan.
Gu Xiyan couldn’t possibly mimic Lu Chengyuan’s mannerisms to play the part of a possessed spirit, so she feigned ignorance, claiming to know nothing.
The Old Madam nodded. “That makes sense. Chengyuan has returned. As a man, if he made any decisions, you naturally wouldn’t remember them.”
The Third Madam, filled with grievance, protested, “If it were our Chengyuan, how could he hit me? Would he not recognize his own mother?”
Li Shipo quickly interjected, “If a soul returns and possesses the body, seeing the Madame brings such joy that one loses sense of propriety. Didn’t the Young Mistress hold onto the Madame’s hair and refuse to let go? That was because she couldn’t bear to part!”
The Old Madam agreed deeply. She questioned the Third Madam further about how she had been hit and how her hair had been pulled.
The room was full of daughters-in-law and young ladies. The Third Madam, an elder, was being questioned in such a manner, leaving her embarrassed and humiliated, having lost face.
But she had no choice. Since the Old Madam asked, she had to answer.
By the end, her tone was tinged with resentment. “She grabbed my hair and pulled it so hard that my scalp hurt for two or three days.”
Hearing this, the Old Madam’s expression darkened. “Listen to Li Shipo. This was Chengyuan coming back. He was thinking of you, his mother. You never spoke kindly to him when he was alive. Now that he is gone, he still thinks of you even in the underworld and specially returned to see you. This is a child’s filial piety. Can you not even endure that?”
The Third Madam was left speechless.
She looked at Gu Xiyan on the couch, who leaned weakly against the pillows, appearing as though she had no control over anything.
Recalling the incident, the Third Madam remained suspicious. She remembered the look in Gu Xiyan’s eyes clearly—it had been intentional aggression. Claiming it was Chengyuan was just an excuse to hit her!
But the Old Madam believed the nonsense, leaving her to suffer the beating for nothing.
She couldn’t say anything more. Lowering her head, she forced a smile. “Yes, it really was Chengyuan who returned.”
Internally, however, she fumed: I don’t believe a word of your ghost stories!
Having slapped the Third Madam twice and staged a supernatural spectacle, Gu Xiyan had managed to bluff her way through. However, the Third Madam remained unwilling to let it go. Whenever she looked at Gu Xiyan, her eyes were filled with blame and mockery, as if she wanted to scratch her.
Gu Xiyan had no choice but to play dumb, staring blankly at the canopy above, appearing devoid of energy.
Due to the Old Madam’s orders, the Third Madam could say nothing and had to let it drop.
Finally, after enduring the Third Madam’s presence until she left, Gu Xiyan breathed a sigh of relief, thinking she could finally enjoy some peace.
She closed her eyes wearily but recalled the Old Madam’s explanation. Gu Xiyan didn’t fully believe in such superstitions, yet sometimes she wondered: Were there really ghosts in this world?
According to them, Lu Chengyuan had come for her. If that were true, was he angry? Was he punishing her?
Thinking of this, Gu Xiyan felt no fear whatsoever. Instead, she gave a cold sneer.
Lu Chengyuan, you left so abruptly, leaving me alone and helpless. How many of your elders have supported me? When I faced difficulties, who considered my feelings? Who treated me with the respect due to the Young Mistress of the Duke’s mansion?
Now that you’ve ‘returned,’ instead of making others sick, you make me fall ill. Isn’t that bullying me?
If you think I haven’t mourned you properly, then I simply won’t mourn you anymore!
If you have the ability, come and take revenge. Take me away!
Gritting her teeth, she thought resentfully, I’ll deliberately commit adultery just to show you. Let’s see if that makes you jump out of your coffin in anger.
In recent days, Ying Tong felt that her master was behaving strangely.
Ever since returning from the Qingming Festival tomb-sweeping, he had become taciturn. He only visited the Old Madam and the Princess daily to pay respects, sitting there for half an hour each time. Afterward, he would seclude himself in the study.
Ying Tong couldn’t figure it out. She wanted to discuss it with someone, but there was no one to talk to.
After Pei Bai left, the other maids were afraid to speak freely with her. Proud of her status, Ying Tong was unwilling to confide in them, leaving her with a sense of isolation at the top.
That day, she happened to see Amole hanging from a emerald bamboo stalk, spinning around. An idea struck her, and she waved at Amole.
Amole seemed incredulous, pointing questioningly at herself.
Ying Tong nodded eagerly. Only then did Amole leap down and approach her.
Dressed exquisitely and elegantly, Ying Tong smiled gently and spoke to Amole, coaxing her until Amole was beaming with happiness.
Seizing the opportunity, Ying Tong probed for information about Lu Chenglian.
Amole listened, her round eyes wide with confusion. “Master?”
Ying Tong smiled even more gently. “Yes. What has been wrong with the Master recently? He seems different from usual.”
Amole struggled to think. After a while, she told Ying Tong, “Master is hungry.”
Ying Tong was baffled.
Amole solemnly pointed to her mouth, made a circle with her hands, and mimed putting something into her mouth, chewing vigorously.
She looked at Ying Tong. “Egg becomes chicken. Master ate. Master wants to eat.”
Ying Tong grew more puzzled, but Amole lightly hopped back onto her bamboo perch.
Frowning, Ying Tong fell into deep thought…
Thus, that evening, she carried a tea tray laden with seasonal fruits to the study.
Upon entering, however, she saw Lu Chenglian standing by the window, holding an object and examining it carefully.
Curious, she looked closer and recognized it as a duck egg.
It was one of the duck eggs everyone had painted during the Qingming Festival.
Ying Tong grew more puzzled but dared not ask further. Recalling Amole’s words, she carefully placed the fruits on the yellow wood table and whispered, “Master, please have some fruit.”
She explained, “These are freshly sent from the suburban estate—yellow flower wheat cakes and cocoon fruits. The Old Madam ordered that these Qingming offerings should be tasted by everyone, so we may all share in the ancestors’ blessings.”
Lu Chenglian did not even glance at Ying Tong. He said indifferently, “Put it down and leave.”
Ying Tong hurriedly replied, “Yes.”
Lu Chenglian added, “Pass on my order: from now on, no one is to enter the study without my explicit permission.”
Ying Tong’s heart sank.
Lu Chenglian’s study was located in a separate courtyard wing. Normally, the maids and young servants in the mansion would not casually come here. Only she and Pei Bai, having served Lu Chenglian for several years when the rules were less strict, were accustomed to coming and going, occasionally assisting with ink and brushwork. Thus, they still visited the study, though rarely.
Now that Pei Bai was gone, she was the only one who could freely enter the study.
His words were clearly directed at her, not at others.
She felt a chill in her heart, accompanied by sadness and distress. His coldness and distance today, with hints of warning in his tone, left her confused about his intentions.
Nevertheless, she suppressed her feelings, forced a smile, and bowed her head. “Yes, this servant understands. This servant will take her leave now.”
After exiting, she recalled the duck egg in Lu Chenglian’s hand. Suddenly, amidst her confusion, she realized what Amole had meant.
Amole had seen Lu Chenglian’s duck egg and spoke to her based on that!
She gritted her teeth, feeling helpless.
It had nothing to do with hunger at all.
Inside the room, Lu Chenglian’s gaze returned to the duck egg.
He had been rubbing the egg in his hand for days; it was nearly polished smooth. If it had been a raw egg, it might have hatched into a chick by now.
He knew that peeling it now would reveal the drawing.
He clearly remembered how she had looked while painting: her white, slender neck slightly tilted, her delicate hand holding the brush, her mind wandering, lost in thought, as she casually applied a few strokes.
He had a vague feeling that what she painted in that moment must have been what was in her heart.
Moreover, her subsequent embarrassment and refusal to let anyone else hold the egg confirmed that the drawing was not meant for outsiders to see.
He was full of anticipation, yet he was in no hurry. The more he anticipated and wondered, the less rushed he felt to open it.
He snapped his fingers, summoning Amole.
Amole always caused trouble, often leaving him frustrated with her incompetence. But that didn’t matter. She was the sharpest, the most loyal, and the most suitable for gathering information within the Duke’s mansion.
At the snap of his fingers, Amole flashed into appearance before him.
Lu Chenglian asked, “How did it go?”
Amole respectfully and thoroughly recounted everything she had seen and heard at Gu Xiyan’s place, including what the Old Madam said, what Qiu Sang said, what Gu Xiyan said, and how Li Shipo had behaved.
Lu Chenglian had not expected matters to reach such an absurd point.
He naturally did not believe in supernatural nonsense. Her illness was simply due to her generally weak constitution. She rarely went out, so venturing into the wild suburbs, crying bitterly, and catching a wind inevitably led to a chill invading her body.
However, he smiled at this news. “This is good.”
She was like a little cat, seemingly gentle and harmless, but when pushed too far, she showed her true temperament, extending her claws to scratch.
Sun Momo protected her in her heart, fabricating such an excuse to help her.
Lu Chenglian instructed, “Keep an eye on the Third Madam’s movements.”
The Third Madam was angry and likely unwilling to let the matter rest.
Amole accepted the order and added, “Ying Tong spoke to me just now.”
Lu Chenglian raised an eyebrow. “Her? Speaking to you?”
Amole nodded and repeated Ying Tong’s words to Lu Chenglian verbatim.
Lu Chenglian chuckled. “I’m hungry?”
Amole pointed to the duck egg in Lu Chenglian’s hand.
Lu Chenglian found it amusing. “Yes, I am hungry. From now on, if anyone asks, tell them that. But do not mention the duck egg.”
Amole agreed naturally. She was meticulous in her duties and would seriously remember every word Lu Chenglian said.
After Amole withdrew, Lu Chenglian ordered a young servant to inform the kitchen that he had caught a slight cold recently and requested them to prepare several dishes of soft, easily digestible food. Although the servant found it strange, he obediently carried out the order.
Once alone in the study, Lu Chenglian lowered his eyes, looking at the duck egg in his hand.
It was an ordinary duck egg, now polished smooth and silky by his touch, feeling excellent against his skin.
His fingertips gently rubbed the smooth, fine grain of the shell. Finally, he began to peel it.
As he did so, he had a fleeting illusion that he was peeling open that woman’s heart, peeling away her clothes.
A lady from a noble household, and a widow at that, was watched by countless eyes. She had to be cautious and follow the rules strictly, wrapping herself tightly in the most conservative clothing, daring not to wear any bright jewelry.
But Lu Chenglian knew clearly that beneath those dull garments lay skin as white as ice and snow, and a graceful figure so slender it seemed breakable.
He had seen it.
That day, during the Emperor’s hunt at the palace annex, the Jing Duke’s family members had accompanied them. After settling down for the evening, he had urgently sought out Lu Chengyuan and accidentally glimpsed her.
Before marriage, she had liked bright colors, preferring brocade skirts sprinkled with gold and lavish golden headpieces. After marrying, she gained a woman’s gentleness, but she still dressed carefully every day, applying powder and rouge, and drawing her willow-leaf eyebrows with delicate charm.
Later, after Lu Chengyuan died, she concealed all her former vibrancy.
It was as if part of her had died with Lu Chengyuan.
Lu Chenglian then remembered the empty plot next to Lu Chengyuan’s grave, reserved for Gu Xiyan.
She was not yet dead, yet they had already decided where she would be buried, even planning how to position her remains.
As he thought this, his fingertips pinched the edge of the shell, gently peeling it away.
Pieces of broken shell fell away, revealing the tender, smooth white of the boiled egg.
Lu Chenglian held it up, observing the delicate red lines drawn on its surface.
Her painting skills were impressive. Even within the tiny space of a duck egg, she could create a whole world.
With just a few strokes, she had depicted flowers, willows, a swing, a man in long robes pushing the swing, and a black-haired woman sitting on it. The man was gentle and handsome, the woman’s skirt fluttering gracefully.
As the swing swayed lightly, a romantic charm emanated from the scene.
Lu Chenglian gazed at the painting for a long time. Finally, he opened his thin lips and gently bit into the translucent egg white.
He was not eating the egg white, but her, that woman.
From now on, she would find it difficult to escape his grasp.