Chapter 67

"Chapter 67: Maples of South Mountain (4)"

Ziyu pulled back the curtain to reveal the stunning view: "Empress Dowager, we're here!"

Leng Jiu looked up at her prompt, seeing a low hill covered in maple trees. The hill was ablaze in red, like a fiery ocean or a passionate woman's skirt, vibrant and mesmerizing.

"Hmm, looks pretty good!"

"It's so beautiful! I've always heard about the beauty of the maples here but never had the chance to see them. Finally, I get to experience it today," Ziyu remarked, full of longing.

Leng Jiu smiled but said nothing.

The carriage stopped at the foot of the mountain. Ziyu hopped out first, and Leng Jiu, adjusting her collar, followed. Stepping out, a gust of autumn wind brought down a flurry of maple leaves. She gently caught a fiery red leaf, its vivid hue contrasting beautifully against her pale hand.

The maple leaf, about the size of Leng Jiu's palm, looked delicate and exquisite. Leng Jiu picked it up and handed it to Ziyu: "Dry this leaf and put it in a book for me."

Ziyu carefully accepted it: "Yes!"

"Squeak, squeak!" Cano jumped out of Qiuxin's arms, turned around on the ground joyfully, and ran towards the pine forest, evidently loving the wilderness.

Watching Cano run off, Qiuxin grew worried: "Empress Dowager, should I go fetch it?"

"No need! Let it be. Don't get lost yourself," Leng Jiu wasn't worried about Cano; the little creature would return on its own.

Qiuxin wanted to go but remained silent upon hearing Leng Jiu.

Du Heng, having parked the carriage, came over with a box and a large bundle: "Empress Dowager, let's ascend from the west."

Leng Jiu looked at him: "Why the west?"

Du Heng pointed to a path not far away: "This is the south, favored by scholars and poets. There are seven levels on this path, each with its own checkpoint. To ascend, one must answer their riddles, or else remain at the foot of the mountain."

Looking in that direction, Leng Jiu indeed saw many scholarly figures gathered, apparently discussing something.

"The east is for noble disciples. They come annually, and areas are segregated by rank. Without joining them, there's no space. The north is for ministers and the emperor to view maples; there's even an imperial lodge. If you wish, we can go there. But the west is the quietest, with a temple midway up the mountain. The temple is usually crowded, but not during this season. If you'd like, we can also light incense and make a wish."

Leng Jiu smiled: "In that case, let's take the northern path. I don't feel like mingling today."

"Yes!"

The mountain wasn't large; walking from here to the north foot was only about 100-200 meters. The path was paved with bluestone, flanked by maple trees, their fallen leaves creating a soft, rustling carpet.

The forest was exclusively maple trees, a pure and simple setting.

A broad stone staircase led from the foot to the mid-mountain temple, visible from the base. A young monk was sweeping the fallen leaves on the stairs. With only about a dozen people coming and going, it was much quieter compared to other sides.

Leng Jiu lifted her skirt to ascend the stone steps. After climbing dozens of steps and turning around, she was greeted with a wider view, a different kind of beauty. The autumn breeze, mixed with the unique scent of the leaves, was refreshing.

The staircase had exactly 130 steps. While Leng Jiu didn't feel tired climbing up, Ziyu and Qiuxin were exhausted, lying at the top, completely out of breath.

Du Heng looked at the two girls, then at Leng Jiu, and couldn't help but express his admiration: "Usually, women find this climb quite exhausting. It's my first time seeing someone manage it as if it's nothing. Empress Dowager, you truly impress me."

Leng Jiu plucked a nearby maple leaf and replied, "Just maintain a rhythm and adjust your breathing. It's like walking on flat ground. What's so surprising?"

Tossing the leaf away, seeing that the two girls had rested enough, she suggested, "Let’s go inside! I’ve never been to a temple before."

Behind her was a temple spanning over 300 square meters. Above the temple entrance hung an aged plaque, squarely inscribed with bold characters – "Nanshan Maple Forest Temple."

In her past, Leng Jiu's father, a mob boss who didn’t believe in deities, never worshipped in temples. She also never had the time for such activities, believing in herself above all. She had learned from a young age that in life-and-death situations, salvation comes not from gods but from oneself.

"Amitabha!" An old monk in a robe, his beard grizzled, approached with a gentle and kind demeanor that was not off-putting. With hands clasped in front, he greeted Leng Jiu with a slight smile: "Last night, I dreamt of a purple aura and knew a distinguished guest would visit. Welcome, benefactor. I've been expecting you."

Leng Jiu raised an eyebrow at his words. Skeptical yet polite, she returned the gesture: "Greetings to the master!"

The monk led Leng Jiu into the main hall, housing a golden Buddha statue flanked by eighteen Arhats. Leng Jiu stood in the center, not kneeling. The monk didn't comment and asked, "Would the benefactor like to light incense or draw a fortune stick?"

Leng Jiu pondered for a moment: "I'll draw a fortune stick."

The monk handed her the stick container: "Please, benefactor."

Leng Jiu eyed the monk, sensing something unusual in his attitude – not quite respectful but more than courteous, and not overly friendly yet somehow strange. However, she felt no malice and decided not to dwell on it.

The sticks rattled in the container as Leng Jiu shook it, curious about what fortune she would draw.

"Clack!" A stick fell to the ground. The monk had already picked it up. Ziyu and Qiuxin craned their necks to see, but the bamboo stick appeared blank, with no inscriptions.

"Master, what does it mean to draw a blank stick?" Ziyu asked, genuinely curious.

Holding the blank stick, the master smiled at Leng Jiu with his hands clasped: "This is the only blank stick in our temple, and the only one drawn in two hundred years. My dream last night was indeed prophetic!"

"What does this sign mean?" Qiuxin asked with wide eyes.

The master monk replied with a smile, "There are myriad interpretations for fortune sticks, predicting fixed destinies. However, this blank stick indicates that the benefactor's fate is not bound by this cycle. Whether it's good or bad depends entirely on the benefactor's own decisions."