Chapter 88

Chapter 88

As they spoke, the carriage arrived at Qixia Temple, proceeding directly inside as in previous years, and was guided by the temple monks to stop in the courtyard.

It was spring, with bright skies, and the temple grounds were lush with budding greenery. The visiting noblewomen were also dressed in seasonal attire, their soft hues creating a harmonious scene. Amidst this, a burst of vivid colors inevitably drew attention. When it became clear that the person leading the way was none other than Mrs. Pei, it was immediately understood that this was the Pei family's young heir, reportedly already begun his schooling.

Still a young child, yet already destined for lifelong prosperity—some couldn't help but feel envious. Others thought to themselves that children of this age were at their most mischievous, and to dare bring him to a scripture lecture, where any disturbance would surely embarrass the Duke of Dingguo's household, showed that Mrs. Pei had no reservations at all.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, Pei Ze remained completely unfazed. Held in his nanny’s arms, he looked around curiously, meeting the eyes of onlookers without shyness, flashing a bright smile before continuing to observe his surroundings with wide, dark eyes, occasionally tilting his head to whisper something to Ming Tang beside him.

With his porcelain-doll features and such an open demeanor, when it came time to take their seats, Pei Ze, at Mrs. Pei’s prompting, bowed respectfully to several venerable matriarchs. One of them immediately pulled him into her embrace.

"What a lovely child! It’s a pity A-Lin kept him tucked away all this time, never bringing him out before. We’ve missed so many chances to see him!"

Mrs. Pei’s origins from the Marquis of Xingguo’s Lin family were well-known, and given her current status, few in the capital would dare address her so familiarly. Yet the elderly lady from the Duke of Jingguo’s household was one of those few—her rank and seniority made calling Mrs. Pei "A-Lin" a sign of closeness rather than disrespect.

Pei Ze, unbothered by strangers, obligingly snuggled in the old lady’s arms. After listening to her words, he glanced around and somehow deduced she was referring to his grandmother. Blinking, he explained on Mrs. Pei’s behalf, "Grandmother didn’t keep A-Ze hidden. It’s just that I have to study—I’m so busy, I really don’t have time!"

After speaking, he heaved a dramatic sigh, looking utterly resigned.

The abbot had yet to arrive, and the scripture lecture wouldn’t begin for a while, so this was the usual mingling period. Suddenly, laughter erupted from the front seats. Those sitting further back peered curiously, only to see the white-haired noblewomen laughing heartily at Pei Ze. Some couldn’t help but regret their choices.

—If only they’d known the elderly ladies adored children this age! They should’ve brought their own to gain favor.

Pei Ze now spoke quite fluently. Though he didn’t fully grasp some of the adults’ words, he responded based on his own understanding, further amusing the noblewomen.

Mrs. Pei watched with a faint smile, allowing Pei Ze to be passed around and cuddled by the elderly ladies. Seeing him laugh uncontrollably, caught up in the moment, she didn’t intervene. Instead, she turned to Ming Tang and said, "I’m fine here. Go sit with your mother for a while."

Ming Tang, seated behind Mrs. Pei, had already been discreetly scanning the crowd. Noticing that Mrs. Zhang was not accompanied by her eldest sister, she found it odd. At Mrs. Pei’s suggestion, she murmured in reply and quietly moved to sit beside Mrs. Ming.

With both daughters-in-law accompanying their husbands to their posts, Mrs. Ming had only brought her eldest granddaughter, Ming Wan, today. Seeing Ming Tang sit beside her, she smiled warmly. "Your outfit today is lovely."

Though light on jewelry, her daughter’s healthy glow filled Mrs. Ming with joy.

Moreover, last year at this time, Ming Tang had to wait outside veiled. Now, she sat openly among the noblewomen in the front seats, engaging in conversation. The contrast made even Mrs. Ming, who usually cared little for such formalities, feel that this scene suited her daughter far better.

When her mother praised her, Ming Tang showed no pretense of modesty, her face practically declaring, "Mother knows best." After greeting Ming Wan, she immediately lowered her voice to ask Mrs. Ming, "Mother, do you know why Eldest Sister isn’t here today?"

As the eldest daughter-in-law of the Zhang family, her sister had long secured her position and typically attended such events with Mrs. Zhang. Her absence made Ming Tang worry something might be wrong.

Mrs. Ming couldn’t suppress a smile, whispering back, "You’re about to become an aunt again."

Ming Tang was both shocked and delighted but also worried. "Eldest Sister is already over thirty." Even in modern times, that would be a somewhat risky age, let alone now.

The two sisters had always been close, and Mrs. Ming knew her younger daughter saw childbirth as dangerous. Understanding her concern, she patted Ming Tang’s hand and, not sugarcoating it, said gently, "I asked Doctor Dou to examine her. He said her last delivery was six years ago, and she’s been taking good care of herself since. She’s healthy—there’s no cause for concern."

Ming Tang knew who Doctor Dou was and breathed easier at the news.

Mrs. Ming nearly laughed at her reaction. "Where do you get these notions? Weren’t you born when I was in my thirties?"

She mused to herself that if Ming Tang had witnessed difficult deliveries among relatives, her fear might make sense. But since childhood, Ming Tang had only seen smooth deliveries. Moreover, to prevent young women from fearing childbirth and delaying marriage, families never emphasized its dangers to unmarried girls, only briefly explaining the essentials before or after marriage. She had no idea when Ming Tang had developed this dread.

In the past, Mrs. Ming had worried that if Ming Tang became pregnant, her anxiety might harm her health. Now, of course, that was moot now—since it was firmly established that conception would be difficult, what was the point of dwelling on it?

Now that things had changed, Mrs. Ming no longer saw it as a major issue and even teased, "With your temperament, it’s just as well that..."

Ming Tang also felt fortunate but didn’t want to dwell on herself. She pressed for details about Ming Shao, learning that she was already three months pregnant, with a good appetite and high spirits. The only reason she hadn’t come to Qixia Temple today was the crowds, to avoid any accidents.

Reassured, Ming Tang brightened, and she turned to Ming Wan with a playful smile. "After this ends in the afternoon, I’ll take you out to have some fun."

Ming Wan’s eyes lit up, recalling the lively scenes from last year’s outing with Ming Tang. Eager not to miss out, she nodded repeatedly, her youthful energy showing.

As the three Ming women chatted, others nearby were also busy. Not far away, the cheerful voice of the Zhang family’s second madam carried over:

"Early this year, when the marriage was settled, both families hit snags. We consulted Master Ku Yuan, who said their fortunes good—just mismatched... But the girl’s fortune changed, and she found an even better match... It’s all settled now. She’ll marry in September."

With the princes entering court politics, those connected to them naturally rose in status. Those sharing their surname were already part of the imperial clan, supported by imperial allowances, so there was little to say.

But their wives’ and mothers’ families saw their thresholds nearly worn through by suitors.

The Zhang family had produced both a royal consort and a princess—though these were the achievements of the main branch, the shared surname meant even the second branch’s daughters now carried an air of nobility.

How quickly things change... Ming Tang couldn’t help but marvel.

Earlier this year, it was said that Miss Zhang Rui was engaged to the eldest grandson of the Jiangxi Provincial Administration Commissioner. Now, it seemed she was instead marrying into the family of Minister of Revenue Qian.

With the Prince of Jin’s maternal relatives finding matches, the Duke of Rong’s family was also flourishing, with three or four eligible daughters in the main line alone. Who knew where they’d end up...

While chatting with her mother, Ming Tang glanced up and saw the Duchess of Rong sitting beside the Duchess of Yu, chatting amiably, with two modestly dressed young girls seated behind them.

One of the women was chatting animatedly, while the other seemed distracted. Noticing Ming Tang speaking to a young girl, she couldn’t help but look over twice. Fortunately, remembering that the Ming family hadn’t yet responded, she restrained her eagerness and didn’t summon Ming Tang for a closer inspection.

As they spoke, a group of monks escorted the abbot inside. Realizing the lecture was about to begin, Ming Wan immediately straightened into proper posture under her aunt’s teasing gaze.

The crowd gradually quieted. Pei Ze finally freed himself from the elderly ladies and returned to his grandmother’s side, obediently nestling in her lap. He listened quietly for two quarters of an hour before growing fidgety.

The abbot, having attained his position and being revered as an esteemed monk, was naturally advanced in years. Though his voice remained strong and rhythmic, the content was dry. Having been captivated by the lively teachings of Mr. Lu, Pei Ze had little patience for this.

If going out meant listening to an old monk ramble on, he’d rather stay home!

Once this thought took hold, his fidgeting increased. Clinging to Mrs. Pei, he peered behind her but didn’t see Ming Tang. Stunned, he instinctively looked around and finally spotted her sitting not far away. His eyes lit up.

Knowing this was a formal setting where he shouldn’t speak, he simply stood beside Mrs. Pei and waved at Ming Tang. When she noticed, he mouthed silently, hoping she’d understand.

Pei Ze moved carefully, as stealthily as when whispering to his desk mate while Mr. Lu stepped out. But since he was leaning entirely against Mrs. Pei, there was no hiding it from her.

Mrs. Pei, aware of his restlessness, turned and quietly instructed a maid behind her.

The maid bent down, took Pei Ze’s hand, and led him silently to Ming Tang’s side. Beaming, Pei Ze leaned against her and wrote in her palm: "A-Ze, go out."

After finishing, he looked up and blinked, waiting to see if she understood.

Ming Tang, however, decided to tease him. Knowing full well Pei Ze wouldn’t recognize the character yet, she slowly wrote the word "wait" in his palm.

Pei Ze endured the ticklish sensation, staring intently as he tried to piece together the strokes. He only knew she’d taken a long time to write it but had no clue what it meant—he couldn’t even recall how many characters she’d written. Too shy to admit he couldn’t read, he grew increasingly frustrated.

The Pei family’s seats were near the front, and with Minister Ming now holding a high-ranking position, Mrs. Ming also sat prominently. Their entire exchange was clearly visible to those behind. Since they made no noise, those genuinely listening to the lecture weren’t disturbed, but the inattentive took the opportunity to let their minds wander.

Some marveled at the Duke of Dingguo’s household’s prestige. Though the young heir was still too restless to sit still, the fact that he didn’t cause a scene already set him above most children his age—proof of strict upbringing.

Mrs. Wu, seemingly focused, glanced at Ming Tang, then at her own daughter seated behind her, feeling somewhat uneasy.

Logically, the Wu and Ming families had no ties. But her daughter had married that Chen fellow. Had Ming Tang become a nun or remarried far away after her divorce, they might never have crossed paths. But with such an excellent new marriage, encounters like this were unavoidable.

Now that Ming Tang stood out, Mrs. Wu couldn’t help worrying that others might see her and gossip about her daughter by association.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, the abbot paused, and the attending monks refreshed the tea for the noblewomen, lightening the mood with some humor. Seizing the moment, Mrs. Wu turned and whispered, "Today’s the Bathing Buddha Festival—a rare auspicious day. I know you’ve never liked Qixia Temple, but since we’re already here, after this ends, let’s pay respects at the Guanyin Pavilion."

"Alright, as you wish, Mother." In the past, Miss Wu would’ve sulked at such suggestions. Today, however, she was unusually agreeable. She, too, felt uncomfortable sharing the room with Ming Tang, but something else overshadowed that discomfort: the Prince of Chu had recently earned the Emperor’s praise for an idea proposed by Chen Wenyao, who would surely be rewarded.

The current situation was so clear that even someone like her, who had never been concerned with court politics, could recount it in detail. Naturally, she harbored ambitions of backing the winning faction. Though she didn’t know when her husband pledged allegiance to the Prince of Chu, she understood it was a favorable development.

Moreover, Chen Wenyao had hinted to her several times, both overtly and subtly, to drop hints at home. Now, she would never dream of contradicting her mother.

Seeing Mrs. Wu’s surprised expression, she raised an eyebrow with a hint of pride. “Mother underestimates me too much. Now that I’m a married woman, an adult, I can’t keep opposing you as I used to.”

Mrs. Wu’s motherly heart swelled with pride, and she nodded in approval, her gaze drifting involuntarily toward the lively scene ahead.

—Mrs. Pei was holding the hand of the young girl who had been sitting behind Mrs. Ming earlier, chatting with those nearby as if introducing her. Mrs. Ming, the girl’s own grandmother, remained silent, merely smiling as she let Mrs. Pei take over her role—a clear sign of the close relationship between the two families.

Ming Wan, ever composed, showed no trace of discomfort in such formal settings. Her bows were smooth and graceful, her smile warm and measured, leaving a pleasant impression on all who saw her.

When everyone joins in praise, Mrs. Pei’s earnest demeanor and the backing of the Ming family, coupled with Ming Wan’s own poise, quickly won a chorus of praise.

Amid the lively atmosphere, Pei Ze, now aware that it was acceptable to speak, was bursting to say something. Signaling Ming Tang to bend down slightly, he leaned close to her ear and enunciated each word clearly: “Mother, let’s go play~”

With Pei Ze as her excuse, Ming Tang gleefully seized the chance to leave the gathering, escaping the latter half of the sutra recitation as she took Pei Ze’s hand and stepped outside.

The temple’s architectural style was naturally different from that of the Duke of Dingguo’s estate—red walls and green trees, solemn yet serene, a stark contrast to the stately elegance of the Duke’s estate.

Devotees moved slowly along the stone-paved paths, their unhurried steps captivating Pei Ze, who couldn't take it all in.

The consequence of not watching where he was walking—despite holding Ming Tang’s hand—was running smack into Pei Yue’s leg, thanks to his mischievous elder deliberately not warning him.

Dazed for a moment, Pei Ze looked up to see his uncle and immediately forgot the pain, stretching out his other hand toward him. “Uncle, hold A Ze’s hand, or A Ze might get lost~”

Pei Yue inwardly grumbled about holding this chubby child’s hand, but his gaze flickered over Ming Tang’s slender fingers before he, with pretend reluctance, offered his hand to Pei Ze. Now flanked by both adults, Pei Ze walked forward contentedly.

“Where would you like to go?”

“I’ve already promised to take Ah Wan out this afternoon, so let’s just stroll around the temple for now. Since we’re here, we might as well get some protection talismans.”

The temple was a tapestry of visitors, and the trio slowly made their way toward the Great Hero Hall [main Buddha hall]. Rounding a corner, they saw the square in front of the hall packed with people of all kinds, there to pray for blessings.

Pei Ze, holding Ming Tang’s hand, stepped over the threshold and was immediately captivated. The last time he’d seen such a crowd was during the Lantern Festival.

While the flowing lanterns had been enchanting, the vibrant scene under the golden daylight—people clamoring to offer incense or queue for blessed water—was equally exhilarating.

Though young, he insisted on walking on his own. Ming Tang had no choice but to share Pei Ze’s hands with Pei Yue, each taking one as they inched forward with the crowd.

The temple was seasoned at handling such events. Despite the throngs, the monks maintained order, and soon the trio reached the front. The elderly monk distributing blessed beans [lucky beans] couldn’t help but take a liking to the exceptional child before him, scooping a generous handful—far more than he gave others.

“Amitabha,” [monk chants] he said. “May the young master enjoy long life and blessings~”

Pei Ze grinned, cupping his hands to catch the beans cascading from the monk’s palm, returning the blessing. “May you also enjoy long life and blessings~”

Still small, his hands could barely hold all the beans. When Pei Yue bent down to help, Pei Ze shied away. “A Ze can do it himself!”

Since the boy insisted, Pei Yue straightened up, glancing at Pei Ze’s focused expression before his free hand found Ming Tang’s, their sleeves occasionally brushing the top of Pei Ze’s head as they walked.

The tickling sensation made Pei Ze look up, but seeing it was just his uncle and aunt’s sleeves, he lowered his head again, inching forward like a little turtle until he spotted a lively crowd gathered in a circle nearby. Instantly reinvigorated, he lifted a foot to head over.

Then he glanced at his hands, now full, and hesitated before decisively seeking help. Raising the beans high, he put it sweetly, “Auntie, blessings for you~”

Ming Tang smiled faintly and unfastened her embroidered purse from her waist, handing it to him. Pei Ze beamed, deposited the beans inside, and tied it securely before returning it to her, negotiating, “Half for Mother, half for me.” Then, noticing Pei Yue, he amended, “Half for A Ze and Grandmother, half for Mother and Uncle.”

Nodding, satisfied with his fair distribution, he promptly forgot about it and pointed eagerly at the crowd. “Let’s go there!”

Most grand courtyards featured ponds to attract good fortune, and temples were no exception. A custom had emerged of tossing copper coins and silver bits into the water for good luck, leading many temples to designate areas as fish ponds.

As the foremost among temples in the capital, Qixia Temple naturally had such a spot—larger than most, befitting the confidence of its stature.

At the center of the pond stood a crane-and-pine longevity statue, its beak raised skyward, with what appeared to be a drinking bowl at its feet. The expansive pond placed the statue far from the railings, making it the coveted feat for devotees to land coins in the bowl. Every success drew cheers.

Pei Ze, bubbling with energy, was mesmerized.

With a goal in mind, he no longer insisted on walking. Stretching out his arms, he was effortlessly carried by Pei Yue to the railing. Seeing the coins in Ming Tang’s palm, he eagerly reached for one to try his luck.

Each time he reached out, Ming Tang playfully closed her hand. After several teasing attempts, Pei Ze’s pitiful look finally softened her heart. She let him take a coin, which he flung with all his might—only for it to plop into the water.

The clear pond shimmered with sunlight reflecting off countless coins below. Pei Ze stared, unable to spot his own, sighed in disappointment, then grew even more determined.

Ming Tang had scrounged a dozen or so coins from Zhe Liu and the others, and now they vanished one by one into the water.

As the pond echoed with splashes, Ming Tang mused, “If anyone’s short on funds, they could just dig a pond like this at home, spread rumors of its miraculous power, and in a few years, they’d have enough to rebuild their house.”

Wen He, who’d just fetched more coins for the young master, laughed. “Miss, you’re saying strange things again.”

Implying the temple was scamming people on its own grounds—best not overheard.

Pei Ze, undeterred, continued his role as the temple’s little benefactor until, after repeated misses, his enthusiasm waned. Noticing another child nearby also tossing coins, he watched intently.

Counting silently, he saw the other child miss three or four times before finally landing one—on the crane’s wing—and cheering, even sticking out his tongue at Pei Ze.

Pei Ze, startled, mimicked the move, handing his coins to Pei Yue and insisting on being held by his wet nurse to direct the throws.

Pei Yue, with his trained aim and strength, indulged him, hitting whatever he pointed at, drawing cheers each time. Yu Gaoxuan, drawn by the noise, recognized them and approached.

Basking in the crowd’s admiration, Pei Ze was prouder than when praised by Mr. Lu, giving a little wave as if the feats were his own.

Casually, he turned to the other child and lifted his chin—clearly conveying: My family’s better than yours.

The other child, incensed, immediately dragged his elder away.

Amused by the childish one-upmanship, Ming Tang chuckled. Pei Yue, noting the rising sun, frowned slightly. “It’s getting too hot here. Let’s head to the back—didn’t we come to get protection talismans for Eldest Sister?”

Having had his fill of fun and squinting in the dazzling sunlight, Pei Ze agreed. The group, under admiring gazes, moved toward the quieter rear halls.

Past the main hall, the atmosphere grew serenely quiet, the sunlight filtering gently through the trees. Ming Tang almost unnoticeably relaxed as she stepped over the high threshold, praying with all her heart that the small protection talisman would bring her elder sister safety.

Her solemnity rubbed off on Pei Ze, who clasped his hands, closed his eyes, and chanted under his breath. Even after Ming Tang had risen and made her temple offering, he remained devoutly still.

Ming Tang, holding the talisman blessed by the monks, was astonished. “How many wishes does A Ze have? Did someone been unkind to him without my knowledge?”

Otherwise, given how indulged he ordinarily was, why so many desires?

Pei Yue, having observed firsthand Pei Ze mimic Ming Tang’s every move, said quietly, “...Perhaps he hasn’t noticed you’ve gotten up because his eyes are closed.”

Indeed, no matter how mature Pei Ze seemed since beginning his tutelage, he’d always show glimpses of his childish nature in these small moments.