Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Zhujing Hall was located on the mountain behind the temple. As the name suggested, it was built beside a bamboo grove.

It was a quiet, secluded place specifically reserved for female lay Buddhists to rest and take their vegetarian meals.

A year ago, after Yuan Heng confessed his feelings to me, my father had been in a frantic rush to have my mother’s memorial tablet enshrined in the temple.

I had come here several times in the past to transcribe scriptures and pray for blessings, so I was very familiar with the layout.

…

Sandalwood incense burned, its fragrance filling the room.

The room was somewhat dim. On the desk sat a bronze candlestick with a multi-layered lotus base, its style ancient and simple.

I had already been transcribing Buddhist scriptures for half an hour.

Hongyu stood behind me, yawning several times from the heavy scent of the incense.

According to the previous arrangement with the abbot, he would perform a simple ritual for my mother today during the Shen hour. At that time, my hand-copied scriptures, the incense sedan, and the Buddhist banners would be burned before her spirit tablet.

I rubbed my stiff neck and stood up to walk to the door.

Pushing it open to look outside, I saw two stout, broad-shouldered servant women guarding the courtyard entrance not far away.

They held wooden clubs and stamped their feet from time to time against the cold, cupping their hands to their mouths to breathe warmth into them while whispering gossip.

I grumbled under my breath, “What is this? They’re even carrying weapons. Are they guarding against a thief or against me?”

Hongyu walked over with a cup of hot water and smiled. “The pilgrims at Ci’en Temple come from all walks of life. You are a lady of noble status; if some blind fool were to offend you, the Marquis would punish me.”

I didn’t take the cup. As I raised my hand to close the door, I accidentally dropped my brush.

The brush rolled a few times before stopping, leaving a trail of ink on the floor.

Seeing this, Hongyu hurried to pick it up.

I ordered her naturally, “Wipe the ink off the floor. This is a sacred Buddhist site; do not let it be defiled.”

A flash of impatience crossed Hongyu’s face, but she smiled and complied.

She pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, dampened it with the hot water, and knelt on the floor to scrub the ink stains vigorously.

I walked over to the desk, blew out the candle, and picked up the bronze candlestick to weigh it in my hand. I asked casually, “Hongyu, do you have any wishes to ask of the Buddha?”

Hongyu smiled. “I wish to pray that the Buddha protects Madam so she may safely give birth to the Little Heir.”

Look at that, a loyal servant.

But in my past life, you didn’t care at all that there was a child in my womb. You still harmed me and took my life.

Holding the candlestick, I lightened my steps and walked behind Hongyu. I raised my arm and swung down with all my strength at the back of her head.

With a dull thud, Hongyu slumped over softly.

Fearing she might cry out, I didn’t wait for her to react before striking the back of her head several more times.

Blood began to spread across the floor. Hongyu’s breathing was weak and shallow; her lips parted several times as if to speak, but she could only let out a faint, mournful whimper.

I had thought I would inevitably have to struggle with this wicked servant and was prepared to alert the people outside, yet it had been so easy to succeed.

It turned out that even villains were this fragile.

Utterly defenseless!

I gave the blood-covered Hongyu a cold look and quickly walked to the square table against the wall.

On the table were the offerings I had brought today, all prepared over the last few days.

Inside the bundle were my mother’s old clothes. Two food boxes placed side by side contained various delicate pastries, and there were also two porcelain bottles.

One bottle contained wine, and the other held lamp oil.

Recently, I had been frequently going to the kitchen myself to stew soups and cook for Yuan Heng; lamp oil was something the kitchen had in abundance.

I quickly removed my hairpins and jewelry and changed into my mother’s old clothes.

Then, I poured the lamp oil over flammable areas like the door and the table, pouring the remainder over Hongyu.

Hongyu was at her last gasp, tears streaming down her face. Her hand desperately gripped my skirt as she pleaded, “Madam, d-don’t.”

I looked down at Hongyu and smiled. “It is best not to lie in front of the gods and Buddhas. Good girl, did you really want me and my child to be safe?”

Hongyu was struck with shock. Finally, she closed her eyes in despair.

I yanked my skirt away, turned back toward the desk, and picked up the scriptures I had just transcribed, intending to use the paper as kindling.

The Buddha never showed me mercy, so I must save myself.

Suddenly, I heard a strange noise from outside, as if someone had broken in.