Chapter 102

Chapter 102

Ming Tang and the others, of course, had no inkling of Pei Ze’s inner turmoil. The next day, they showered him with compliments on his meticulously chosen attire, even citing the white jade pendant at his waist as proof of his "scholarly achievements and refined demeanor."

It wasn’t merely the elders viewing Pei Ze through rose-tinted glasses; he was genuinely handsome. Now more composed and upright, his slightly tanned skin from martial arts training only accentuated his vibrant energy. As he cheerfully bounded over in the morning light, he embodied the kind of child beloved by all, regardless of age.

The decision to grant Pei Ze’s request to ride a horse during the outing was a genuine concession to their deep affection for him—who could resist their favorite young one nestling against their knees and pleading sweetly? Certainly not Mrs. Pei.

Fortunately, she retained enough rationality under Pei Ze’s pleading gaze to set conditions: "A guard must accompany you at all times," "No galloping," and "If the road gets crowded, return to the carriage immediately." Only after Pei Ze agreed to each point and promised to abide by these rules did the preparations conclude.

For Pei Ze, simply being allowed out was enough. Riding his horse, he found everything fascinating, unconcerned about their destination. The sheer variety of passersby alone delighted him; he looked eagerly in all directions, unable to take it all in.

Mimicking Pei Yue, he trotted close to the carriage and tapped on the window. When Ming Tang drew the curtain aside, he beamed, ready to greet his elders—only to realize a crucial problem: he was still a small boy, and his pony was even shorter. Straining to look up, he could only meet Ming Tang’s downward gaze.

Ming Tang, finding it all too easy, reached out and patted his head. "You and the big cat both need to grow taller. In a few years, you’ll be like your uncle."

Pei Ze shook her hand off and went around to the other side of the carriage to greet Mrs. Pei. However, this side faced more pedestrian and carriage traffic, prompting Mrs. Pei to suggest gently, "A Ze, come inside now. The road ahead might be rough."

For noblewomen of the time, outings were typically either social visits or temple pilgrimages, and the Pei family was no exception. Given the summer heat and Pei Ze’s presence, they settled on a day trip to Hongluo Temple. Though famed for fertility prayers—irrelevant to their needs—the temple also housed revered statues of the Medicine Buddha and Guanyin. Moreover, its cool ambiance and exquisite vegetarian cuisine made it an ideal summer retreat.

Cooler locales often lay in the mountains, so Mrs. Pei wasn’t entirely fibbing about the difficult path—though the uphill stretch was still some way off.

Pei Ze, his riding cut short, obediently climbed into the carriage and pressed against the window, counting passersby until he reached "156." As the carriage turned onto the mountain path and the stream of people dwindled, he switched to tallying trees.

The mountain was refreshing, but the road grew steep. Soon, the carriage could go no further, and the party continued on foot.

Surrounded by lush greenery, Mrs. Pei inhaled deeply, pleased with their choice. "Summer is truly the time for mountain excursions—they calm the mind."

The steps were low, and Pei Ze raced ahead, reaching the top platform first. His clear voice startled birds in the trees: "A Ze is number one!"

The commotion drew the attention of the temple staff. Soon, a smiling monk emerged, subtly assessing Pei Ze’s attire before his smile widened and he clasped his hands in greeting.

As Mrs. Pei and Ming Tang ascended, the monk—introducing himself as Yuanfa—hurried forward. Spotting Ming Tang, he paused briefly before masking his surprise and ushering them inside. "This humble monk, Yuanfa, greets our esteemed patrons. For blessings of peace, our temple venerates the Medicine Buddha and Guanyin, both most efficacious. If you seek no specific boon, our brother Yuantong excels in interpreting oracle sticks."

It would be impolite to visit without paying respects, so Mrs. Pei said, "We shall pray to the Medicine Buddha, then try a divination. Please arrange a quiet courtyard for our rest and a vegetarian meal at noon."

Yuanfa grasped their intent, realizing the meal was likely their main purpose for visiting a temple otherwise known for fertility prayers. Guided by him, they were led along a path that bypassed the Hall of Child-Granting Guanyin to the Medicine Buddha’s shrine.

Mrs. Pei and Ming Tang entered, lit incense, and bowed—without consulting each other, both thinking of the same silent wish: *May Pei Yue be safe and well.*

Rising, they selected two items from the array offered by the monks before stepping out.

Hongluo Temple’s layout, designed with care, boasted shaded paths and and cooling breezes. Though it couldn’t rival the refined serenity of Duke Dingguo’s gardens, its novelty charmed Pei Ze, who found endless fascination in its unfamiliar corners.

While the women prayed, he explored the courtyard. By their return, he’d wandered to the west wall, squinting at a poem inscribed in cursive script. Frustrated by recognizing only a handful of characters, he returned disappointed.

Spotting the sprawling calligraphy and Pei Ze’s eager approach, Ming Tang preempted any plea for translation by asking Yuanfa, "When might we consult the oracle sticks?"

Yuanfa, about to explain the poem, hesitated. "Now would be suitable. However, this month, the sticks are placed in Guanyin’s hall for optimal potency. Might I trouble you to visit there next?"

Understanding this as a polite way to extend their visit, Ming Tang agreed. As they followed Yuanfa, Pei Ze’s attention shifted, leaving the cryptic poem behind.

The Guanyin Hall, though nearby, was far grander. After paying homage, the monks guided them to an unusually large oracle stick tube—half a person’s height—allowing one to pluck a stick with a slight bend. Ming Tang now grasped why the tube rotated monthly between halls: such a massive item would be costly to duplicate, and its mobility added mystique.

As generous donors, the trio were deemed "fated" and each invited to draw a stick for interpretation by Brother Yuantong.

Pei Ze was always enthusiastic about such things, and the oracle tube was just the right height for him to draw a lot without even bending over. He casually pulled one out—a best fortune stick.

Mrs. Pei, seeing this, also drew one at random. Before even having it interpreted, she laughed, "I suppose there's no need for interpretation. Both are best fortune sticks—they'll probably say the same thing."

The monk Yuanfa clasped his hands and smiled faintly, "Your blessings run deep, naturally yielding the finest lots. However, Brother Yuantong, who is assigned to interpret the lots, has a way with words and always says something clever. If the lady does not mind the delay, you may yet hear something novel from him."

Mrs. Pei couldn't help but chuckle, "Then let's go and listen."

At the fortune-telling booth, it went without saying that other services were available. Mrs. Pei was well aware but played along willingly, proving that even those who don't quite believe in such things can't help feeling a little happier upon drawing a best fortune stick.

Yet she didn't hurry over immediately, instead waiting where she was for Ming Tang to draw one as well.

Ming Tang casually picked a bamboo lot, only to find it stuck to another. As she pulled it out, her sleeve brushed against it, causing the second one to fall.

Pei Ze, quick to react, immediately crouched to pick it up and placed it beside his own. Though he couldn't read the text, the red characters at the top were clear—this, too, was a best fortune stick.

Mrs. Pei shook her head with a smile. Most of the lots in the tube were likely best fortune sticks—these monks were quite clever about this. Pointing at Ming Tang, she said to Yuanfa, "You just said the three of us were fated today. My daughter-in-law has drawn two—naturally, that's her fortune. But if we take these four for interpretation, won’t the later worshippers find no best fortune sticks left to draw?"

Yuanfa gave a pained smile, "It may indeed be harder for them. To be honest, there are only nine best fortune sticks in this tube. For your family to draw so many—such good fortune is truly rare in this humble monk's experience."

Only then was Mrs. Pei startled, her smile widening even more—having made two wishes for Pei Yue, and now the whole family being declared exceptionally fortunate, nothing could have pleased her more.

Yet Ming Tang laughed at this moment, "Don't worry. I’ll put this one back—no need to greedily hoard extra luck." So saying, she returned the lot to the tube and gave the tube a quick shake.

Mrs. Pei paused, then nodded. The family moved to the other side, where the highly recommended Master Yuantong used three completely different sets of auspicious interpretations to interpret their lots, after which they each received a miniature bamboo lot as a keepsake.

Pei Ze, holding his three little lots, was delighted, his face glowing with childish excitement. But when he looked up, he noticed a young monk standing nearby—a head taller than him, dressed in monastic robes and, like the older monks, shaven-headed. The boy stood quietly to the side.

After listening for a while, Pei Ze learned that this young monk was named Jingchen. The older monk had other duties to attend to and had to excuse himself, leaving the boy to guide them to their guest quarters.

There was no need for a reception monk to lead the way to their assigned courtyard, and Pei Ze’s attention was now entirely fixed on the young monk. Mrs. Pei gave a slight nod, watching as Yuanfa clasped his hands in farewell before departing.

Jingchen, accustomed to being a boy of few words but quick action, stepped forward as soon as his senior left. Though small, he walked briskly, remaining silent as he led the way. Since Hongluo Temple was built along the mountainside, the path had many turns, and at each turn, Jingchen would pause, glance back discreetly, and wait if the group fell too far behind.

After a stretch of silent walking, they finally turned onto a small path that stretched straight ahead with no further turns. Jingchen quickened his pace.

Pei Ze, encountering for the first time a child his own age with such a different hairstyle (or lack thereof), was brimming with curiosity about the young monk’s daily life—how it differed from his own. Seeing his chance, he quietly sped up, treading softly behind Jingchen.

Jingchen, habitually glancing back, suddenly found himself face-to-face with Pei Ze. His eyes widened in shock, and he stumbled back several steps before turning and resuming his silent lead. Truth be told, Ming Tang had never seen someone’s eyes widen so dramatically—his expression was so vividly startled that even her somewhat somber mood since drawing the lots lightened a little.

Pei Ze hadn’t meant to startle him. His excitement turned to guilt, and he hurried to Jingchen’s side, whispering an apology.

Jingchen said nothing, merely pressing onward, while Pei Ze, undeterred, matched his pace. On a straight path with no need to check if others were following, the two soon broke into a near run, dashing into the courtyard prepared for the Pei family—giving Wen He, who was washing cherries, quite a fright.

The servants had arrived earlier and prepared the courtyard. The trees here had long spread their lush canopies, casting deep shade over the stone table and stools, now covered with embroidered cushions. A small red clay stove gurgled nearby, heating water, while the table held an assortment of pastries brought from home and seasonal fruits including cherries and plums, still glistening with water.

Seeing the two children in such a hurry, Wen He instinctively held out what she was holding. "Young Master, why the rush? Are the Madam and Young Madam not returning? We’ve just washed these cherries—would the little monk care for some?"

Jingchen glanced briefly before withdrawing his gaze, exhaling in relief. Clasping his hands, he bowed slightly, avoiding Pei Ze’s eyes as he addressed Wen He, "Many thanks, benefactress. This humble monk must take his leave. At noon, my brothers will bring the vegetarian meal—please wait a little longer."

Pei Ze, still brimming with curiosity, was loath to see him go. His eyes followed Jingchen’s retreating figure helplessly before turning to Ming Tang, who had just entered, with a pleading look.

Ming Tang, her spirits somewhat unsettled, had felt slightly better watching the children interact. Seeing this, she thought a walk might clear her mind and beckoned Pei Ze over. "Mother," she said to Mrs. Pei, "A Ze has barely had a chance to explore since we arrived. I’d like to take him out for a while—we’ll return by noon."

Mrs. Pei, weary from the journey, had been eager to sit for a while. She nodded, settling under the tree as maids attended to her tea.

Ming Tang looked around and quietly asked Wen He, "Is there anything we could use to carry some cherries and plums? The boy wants to chat—snacks might help."

Wen He had indeed brought something. Hurrying over, she fetched a finely woven basket and filled it with washed cherries. "Seems this was the right thing to bring after all. It was meant for you and the Madam, should you wish to stroll—now it’s the young monk's gain."

"You know you'd regret your own embroidery, so I'll bring it back for you."

With Mrs. Pei nearby, Wen He dared not be too lively and replied in a low voice with a smile, "No need for that. Just let me take a couple of days off another time. Last time I went home, some senior maids from Mrs. Pei's courtyard invited me to West Street to have clothes made, and I haven't given them an answer yet."

Pei Ze, standing nearby, was already growing impatient, afraid that if they delayed, they might not even catch sight of Jingchen's retreating figure. Ming Tang had to quickly signal her approval and lead Pei Ze out of the courtyard.

Perhaps feeling his task was complete, Jingchen's figure wasn't far ahead. Pei Ze took the small basket of cherries from Ming Tang and jogged to catch up. This time, he was careful—as he neared Jingchen, he deliberately made his footsteps heavier before calmly walking alongside him.

Sensing Pei Ze’s goodwill and realizing he wasn’t like the mischievous young devotees he’d encountered before, Jingchen relaxed considerably. Instead of immediately moving away, he kept walking without comment, accepting the cherries Pei Ze handed him and listening to his curious chatter.

Ming Tang watched the two children from a distance, giving them ample space to interact while also clearing her own thoughts. Her mind drifted back to the fortune stick she had returned to the divination tube—technically, that was the one she had drawn. It wasn’t bad, only average, but the line "unfavorable for warfare" had caught her eye and lingered in her mind.

Though neither she nor Mrs. Pei had come to the temple with serious intentions of praying for divine protection, being in this sacred space inevitably stirred thoughts of Pei Yue. Both times they lit incense before different Buddha statues, Ming Tang was certain their minds had turned to him.

Shaanxi was peaceful for now, but both Ming Tang and Mrs. Pei knew it wouldn’t last. The Tatars might have retreated temporarily after failing to gain an advantage, but they might return come autumn harvest. Even Pei Yue’s tone and expression when mentioning the Tatar Third Prince had made Ming Tang wonder if he might provoke a conflict just to find an excuse to run him through—sending him to reunite with the late Eldest Prince in the afterlife to vent his hatred.

Though they hadn’t come to pray earnestly, Mrs. Pei had been deeply reverent while burning incense and donating generously. The comfort on her face after repeatedly drawing auspicious slips wasn’t lost on Ming Tang, who understood her thoughts all too well.

The fortune sticks had been improbably auspicious—four in a row, even the one Ming Tang accidentally pulled out. When Pei Ze picked it up first, Mrs. Pei and the monk began marveling at their luck. Ming Tang naturally didn’t correct them, letting it stand as all favorable signs. Yet, a gloom settled in her heart.

It wasn’t that she suddenly believed in such things. But when everyone else drew auspicious slips while hers was the only mediocre one—and concerning the person she cared about most—it was hard not to feel unsettled.

Now diverted by Pei Ze's antics and breathing in the cool, moist mountain air, Ming Tang took a deep breath and pushed those thoughts aside. She found a spot not too far from Pei Ze, standing beneath a flowering tree and absentmindedly tugging a branch to touch its pale pink petals.

Pei Ze and Jingchen seemed to have struck up a friendship. They perched together on a stone step, the small bamboo basket between them, with Pei Ze even offering his handkerchief for cherry pits. They chatted as they ate, and Jingchen, no longer reticent, chattered away.

Ming Tang stood close enough to catch snippets of their conversation—mostly Jingchen talking, with Pei Ze interjecting occasionally or launching into longer speeches.

At one point, Pei Ze lowered his head, and after a moment’s hesitation, Jingchen reached out and gently touched his head.

The gesture puzzled Ming Tang. Had Tutor Lu recently taught them the line, *"The immortal touched my crown, bestowing eternal life"*? But Jingchen was a monk—hardly the right profession for such a thing. If Pei Ze wanted to reenact it, finding some wizened Daoist in the outskirts wouldn’t be hard. They could even invite one to the estate to bless him and his classmates.

Then Jingchen hesitated again before bowing his head in turn, and Ming Tang realized she’d overthought it—this was just reciprocal head-patting.

Perhaps Pei Ze had wanted to touch the little monk’s shaved head but found it too forward, so he’d devised this little ritual.

Pei Ze, likely aware such opportunities were rare, treated it with great solemnity. He felt at his sleeves, only to remember his handkerchief was already out, now holding cherry pits. Disappointed, he withdrew his hand.

Noticing Ming Tang under the tree, he hurried over, borrowed her handkerchief to wipe his hands, then rushed back.

His earnestness seemed to make Jingchen even more nervous. From a distance, Ming Tang could see the young monk freeze, watching Pei Ze intently but making no move. In fact, he seemed to be holding his breath.

Pei Ze didn’t keep him waiting long. Standing before him, he carefully reached out and rubbed Jingchen’s smooth head, looking satisfied before sitting back down to continue their quiet conversation.

With no more interactions to observe, Ming Tang turned her attention back to the Chinese flowering crabapple tree. She recalled Pei Yue’s recent letter mentioning that upon his return, he’d personally transplant two *Xifu* crabapples into the estate garden. The best time to transplant them was autumn—did that hint at an autumn return?

If war broke out again, at least today Mrs. Pei and Pei Ze had drawn auspicious slips. If fortune proved true, perhaps it could offset any misfortune. If something happened to Pei Yue, how could those closest to him still be considered fortunate? And if luck proved false—well, that would be for the best. What human endeavor could accomplish still held hope of success.

Lost in thought, she noticed a group approaching. Leading them was a faintly recognizable young noblewoman, followed by a nursemaid carrying a child and two maids. Ming Tang was sure she’d seen her before but couldn’t place her—until the woman spoke first:

"Ming Si? Here at Hongluo Temple praying for a child? With Crown Prince Pei not even in the capital, what’s the point of coming now?"

The tone instantly clarified her identity—the eldest daughter of the Wu family. Unlike her haughty demeanor at the jade platform last time, she now seemed discontent.

So this was where the Child-Giving Goddess was enshrined. No wonder the monk had led them on a roundabout path past the Medicine Buddha and Guanyin—he must have guessed Ming Tang’s identity and wanted to avoid this very encounter. A former and current wife meeting at a fertility temple was undeniably awkward.

Before Ming Tang could respond, the woman added, "My apologies, I forgot—even if Crown Prince Pei were in the capital, your efforts here would be futile. Best tend to that boy over there. If even he’s gone, how could the Pei family tolerate you keeping your position? Another annulment wouldn’t look good, would it?"

The malice in her taunts struck a nerve, especially with Ming Tang already worried about Pei Yue. The mention of Pei Ze ignited her fury. Releasing the flower branch, she stepped forward, advancing toward the woman.

Intimidated by Ming Tang's forceful presence, Wu Shi involuntarily took a step back, then flushed with shame and irritation upon regaining her composure.

Ming Tang, however, found her anger dissipating at this reaction and couldn't help shaking her head with a wry smile: Even if ghosts and gods truly existed, the careless words of such a blustering coward could never hold any power.

Her emotions now calm, her thoughts grew even clearer. A smile played at her lips as she said, "Thank you for your concern, but you'd do better to focus such thoughts on yourself. Coming to pray for a child now—what if years pass without success? When your beloved husband rises in rank, your position might become rather shaky."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice to whisper in Wu Shi's ear, "To be frank, sometimes a childless marriage isn't the woman's fault. Instead of begging deities everywhere, perhaps you should consider other possibilities."

Wu Shi grasped Ming Tang's implication but vehemently denied it: "Impossible! My husband already has an eldest son!" Their marital relations had always been normal. She'd only heard of men being naturally impotent—such cases preventing conception—but never of men who appeared normal yet couldn't impregnate women.

Ming Tang had expected her disbelief and remarked casually, "That eldest son—wasn't his mother already pregnant outside the household before entering with forged papers?"

Wu Shi stiffened, visibly agitated as she watched Ming Tang stroll over to ruffle Pei Ze's hair. The boy immediately took her hand and stood up, pointing at the handkerchief on the ground with a shy smile.

Pei Ze was an exceptionally beautiful child, and that smile could melt anyone's heart.

Having just prayed for a child that morning, Wu Shi suddenly regretted her earlier harsh words toward this boy. Glancing back at the Chen family's eldest son in his nursemaid's arms, even the delicate features she'd once praised now seemed ordinary by comparison. Her gaze drifted helplessly back to Pei Ze.

Pei Ze appeared to have finished speaking with the little monk. The handkerchief on the ground had been folded neatly into his hands as he pointed at the small bamboo basket, waving what seemed like a farewell.

Seeing them preparing to leave, Wu Shi hesitated for a long moment. Even she couldn't believe the words that finally escaped her: "I was wrong earlier. The Young Master will surely be safe and live a long life."

Ming Tang looked surprised but nodded in thanks. Bad words never come true—good ones should be accepted without question. This thought brought her further clarity. She'd search the family storerooms later for anything Pei Yue might need in Shaanxi and have the elders make another trip. Luck may not matter—what human effort could achieve was what truly matters.

Wu Shi grew even more uncomfortable when Ming Tang remained composed instead of seizing the chance to mock her further. Unable to bear another word, she turned and hurried away, her mind involuntarily replaying Ming Tang's casual remark. Against her will, she scrutinized the child her mother-in-law had often praised for resembling Chen Wenyao.

Perhaps because he'd been younger before, his features not fully formed—but now with slightly more definition, she couldn't see any resemblance to Chen Wenyao no matter how hard she looked.

Chen Wenyao, the young Tanhua, had always been handsome. Now with years in officialdom and patrons' favor, his recent successes made him even more distinguished. Wu Shi had married him willingly, partly for that very face.

Yet this child, while refined-featured, shared neither the shape of his eyes and brows nor the bridge of his nose with Chen Wenyao.

Unprompted, she might never have noticed. But now with Ming Tang's words planted in her mind throughout the journey home, the temple visit had left her thoroughly unsettled. She no longer knew whether to investigate.

If it turned out that Ya Yun had indeed passed off a fake, wouldn't that mean her husband might truly be like those impotent men, incapable of siring children? What would become of her then?

Ming Tang naturally remained unaware of Wu Shi's turmoil. Had she known, given her current position to watch events unfold from afar, she'd have undoubtedly hoped Wu Shi investigated thoroughly. Somehow, based on her impression, she felt the Chen household might provide quite a show if anything were uncovered.

For now, Ming Tang found herself at a loss with Pei Ze and Jingchen—the two had been bidding farewell at the crossroads for what felt like five minutes, still whispering.

Their pace from the steps could only be described as a snail's pace—ants on the roadside moved faster. Yet their demeanor remained perfectly normal. After walking ahead and glancing back to find them nearly stationary, Ming Tang almost wondered if she'd walked too fast for the children's shorter legs.

Was children's friendship really this simple—just a mutual head-pat making them instant best friends?

As temple bells rang, Jingchen snapped back to reality. Remembering he'd only been assigned by his senior to guide visitors and had idled away the entire morning, he grew restless and hastily waved goodbye—a gesture he'd just learned from Pei Ze.

Pei Ze waved back vigorously until the little monk disappeared. As the bell's echoes faded, Ming Tang asked, "A Ze, I'm curious—after holding those cherry pits so long, did your hands warm them?"

Pei Ze, suddenly realizing he still held the remnants of their snack: ...What to do? His palm felt strangely moist.

Despite knowing layers of handkerchief separated him from the pits, the mere thought made him shudder. He immediately hurried back toward their quarters.

Remarkably, he remembered every turn despite having walked the path only once. Following behind, Ming Tang felt a twinge of envy: Was this some innate general's family heritage? As a child, she'd possessed no such skill, only learning to navigate gradually as she grew—even now struggling with complex routes.

Pei Ze, now washed up and waiting at the dining table, remained oblivious to being envied. Seeing Ming Tang finally return, the impatient boy immediately started recounting his day: "Grandmother, Mother, did you know Jingchen wakes up even earlier than me? And without hair, his scalp gets cold. Monkhood is so demanding—I never want to be one."

He excitedly missed the puzzled glance exchanged between Ming Tang and Mrs. Pei: When had A Ze ever considered becoming a monk?

Ming Tang fell silent: So child-rearing came with such surprising pitfalls. Fortunately, this one had passed as oddly as it came. Was this perhaps the real purpose of their outing?