Chapter 1 Homecoming

Chapter 1: Returning Home

Rolling green mountains stretched into the distance, the valley lay quiet and secluded, and a deep pool shimmered under the sunlight, its depths bottomless.

The emerald-green water suddenly parted as a person emerged, startling the deer at the water's edge into a frantic scatter.

A Heng wiped her face, looked around, and upon seeing the familiar scenery, she was visibly shaken as she buried her face in her hands and wept.

She was home. The master hadn't deceived her—she had really made it back!

Without a second thought, A Heng’s first instinct was to head home. No sooner had she stepped ashore than a deafening crack echoed, and a bolt of lightning struck the water. Rolling thunder followed, and a torrential rain poured down, accompanied by lightning tearing across the sky.

A Heng dashed toward home, with thunder and lightning hot on her heels. A strange thought occurred to her: it was as if the storm was meant for her alone.

Why? This was her home, the place where she belonged!

A wave of anger washed over her, dampening her joy at returning home, and A Heng quickened her pace.

Amidst the curtain of rain and lightning flashes, the girl moved like the wind, darting along the mountain path. Anyone who saw her would surely suspect she was a ghost.

Finally, the outlines of houses came into view ahead, and A Heng slowed her steps.

Her home was closest to the mountain pass, just up ahead.

Perhaps due to the sudden downpour, no one was moving about in the village, which was a relief to the soaked A Heng—until she reached her doorstep.

Why were there white funeral banners at the door?

A Heng stared, frozen, at the home she had longed to return to, feeling as if she had been plunged into an icy abyss.

A deafening clap of thunder roared, shaking heaven and earth, and a bolt of lightning, like a furious dragon, lashed menacingly toward her.

A Heng snapped back to her senses, trembling as she pushed the door open. An urgent cry reached her ears: “Madam, madam—”

It was Fang Zhou’s voice, and the one Fang Zhou called “madam” was her mother!

A Heng stumbled into the house.

The girl who was clutching the woman's arm and weeping turned at the sound from the door, first stunned, then bursting with immense joy as she rushed over: “Miss, you’re back!”

A Heng barely heard the girl’s cries, rushing straight to the bedside and grasping the woman’s hand: “Mother—”

The woman's eyelids fluttered, and she struggled to open them. Recognizing the person before her, a spark of life returned to her lifeless eyes: “Heng’er, Heng’er, you’re back!”

A Heng nodded repeatedly, her voice choked with tears: “Mother, I’m back. What’s wrong with you?”

The woman, her face sallow and withered, managed a strained smile: “I’m fine, I was just worried about you…”

A Heng’s heart felt like it was being torn apart.

Her mother was far from fine—she clearly appeared on the brink of death…

“Fang Zhou, didn’t you call a doctor for Mother—”

Before A Heng could finish her sentence, the woman broke into a violent coughing fit, gasping for breath as if a candle flame about to be extinguished by the wind.

“Mother—” A Heng cried out in alarm, gently patting the woman’s back.

The woman gripped her hand tightly, panting as she asked: “Heng’er, where have you been? Were you hurt? Why did it take you so long to come home?”

“I… how long have I been gone?” A Heng asked, suppressing the violent pounding of her heart.

“Miss, you’ve been missing for ten days!” Fang Zhou interjected.

“Ten days?” A Heng turned pale, murmuring to herself.

She had been pushed into the deep pool by a friend and spent ten years in the shattered Great Xia of thirty years later.

Her one year turned out to be just one day for her mother and the others… But why had her mother fallen critically ill in just ten short days? And why were white funeral banners hanging at the entrance?

A chill seeped into her bones, and a suspicion loomed large, but A Heng dared not voice it, fearing it would distress her critically ill mother: “Mother, rest for now. I’ll go call a doctor for you—”

“No, don’t call a doctor, don’t call a doctor!” In her agitation, the woman suddenly sat up, her expression filled with terror and despair.

“Alright, alright, no doctor,” A Heng soothed her gently, though her mind was filled with doubts.

Why was her mother so vehemently opposed to calling a doctor?

Just then, a sudden knocking sound came from outside.

*Thump, thump, thump*—the thunder had unknowingly ceased, and the knocking was now clear and distinct.

A Heng glanced at Fang Zhou.

Fang Zhou ran out and pulled the door open, pausing in surprise: “Who are you?”

Outside stood two people holding umbrellas, a man and a woman, both dressed in silk garments. The woman smiled and asked: “Is this the home of Chen Qiao, Master Chen?”

Chen Qiao was the name of A Heng’s father.

Fang Zhou grew wary: “Who are you?”

“We’ve come from the capital to ask Master Chen some questions.”

“My master has passed away. Please leave—”

Just as Fang Zhou was about to close the door, a sharp sound came from behind—the shattering of a coarse porcelain bowl hitting the ground.

A Heng hurried out, ignoring Fang Zhou’s worried gaze, and stared at the woman: “You’ve come from the capital?”

The moment the woman saw A Heng, her pupils dilated sharply: “You look alike, so much alike!”

The man, who appeared to be a steward, remained much calmer than the woman. He scrutinized the young girl and couldn’t help but nod in agreement.

She did resemble the long-deceased Third Madam, but why was she still drenched and hadn’t changed her clothes?

“Ahem.” The man coughed, reminding the excited woman, “We should clarify matters first.”

The woman snapped back to attention, her gaze fixed intently on A Heng: “Miss, do you remember anything from your childhood—”

A Heng frowned: “Please state your purpose directly. My family is in distress, and I truly have no mind for guessing games.”

The now-calm woman opened her mouth but didn’t know how to proceed.

After all, she couldn’t just bluntly tell a young girl that they suspected she was their long-lost child and had come looking for her.

They still needed to speak with the adults in this household.

The woman was still lost in thought when Mother Chen’s voice called from inside the room: “Heng’er, Heng’er—”

Heng’er hurriedly turned and went back in.

Mother Chen was half-leaning against a folded quilt, looking surprisingly more alert: “Heng’er, who are those people outside?”

“A man and a woman who say they’re from the capital. Mother, don’t trouble yourself with this, just rest well.”

Mother Chen’s face suddenly changed: “What would people from the capital be doing at our home? Your father… could they be after your father? Heng’er, you must leave, leave now!”

Seeing how frightened her mother was, Heng’er said quickly to reassure her: “Don’t be afraid, they probably aren’t here for Father. That lady took one look at me and said I looked familiar, asking if I remember anything from my childhood…”

Mother Chen listened blankly, then suddenly jolted and called out toward the door: “Fang Zhou, show the guests in!”

Following Mother Chen’s instruction, Fang Zhou led the two inside.

The woman was startled when she saw the gaunt Mother Chen. She bowed and explained their purpose: “Are you Madam Chen? We are from the Qiu family in the capital. Ten years ago, our sixth young lady got lost while accompanying the adults to see the lanterns… Last month, a relative passing through this area visited her nephew who was recuperating at a Taoist temple and happened to meet your daughter. She noticed your daughter bears a striking resemblance to our third madam. After returning to the capital, she sent a message to our household. Our master ordered the steward and this servant to come and confirm…”

Heng’er was stunned.

Though ten years had passed for her, perhaps because the Great Xia soaked in blood was too bitter, the beautiful memories from the past were instead etched deeply into her bones.

Last month, when she went to see Brother Bai, she did indeed encounter a dignified woman who kept staring at her.

“Cough, cough, cough.” Mother Chen coughed incessantly, but her eyes shone brightly, “You’re saying my Heng’er is your lost young lady, but… do you remember what your young lady was wearing when she went missing?”

“Our young lady was only five when she disappeared. She was wearing a red jacket and skirt, with embroidered butterflies on the cuffs and hem… Oh, and there was also a sachet, with the character ‘Heng’ embroidered in one corner—that was our young lady’s name…” As the woman spoke, she looked at Heng’er.

Not only did she look alike, but she was also called Heng’er. Such a coincidence was impossible.

Mother Chen, her eyes rimmed with red, instructed Fang Zhou: “Go to the west room and bring the box pressed at the very bottom of the cabinet.”

Soon, Fang Zhou returned carrying a wooden box and opened it under Mother Chen’s direction.

Inside were folded jacket, skirt, and a pouch, though soiled and worn, exactly as the woman had described.

“Young lady, it really is the young lady!” The woman cried, taking Heng’er’s hand, “Young lady, do you remember this servant? I was your wet nurse…”

Heng’er remained silent. Mother Chen softly recounted the past: “Ten years ago, Heng’er’s father and I found Heng’er on a mountain path in Dingzhou. At the time, she wouldn’t speak, wouldn’t cry or fuss, as if terrified. Not far away was the body of a man with a smashed head, likely struck by a falling rock…”

The woman and the steward exchanged a glance.

Dingzhou bordered the capital. It seemed the kidnappers had met with misfortune shortly after taking the sixth young lady away from the capital.

“We brought Heng’er home. Since the sachet she carried had the character ‘Heng,’ we guessed it was her name and kept it.”

“Madam Chen, on behalf of our master, this servant thanks you for your kindness. We came this time to take the sixth young lady back. Please, Madam Chen, state any requests you may have.”

Mother Chen couldn’t help but smile: “Knowing Heng’er will be loved is enough for me.”

“Mother—”

Mother Chen held Heng’er’s hand but looked at the woman: “I’d like to have a few private words with Heng’er.”

The woman and the steward withdrew to the main hall.

Mother Chen gazed deeply at Heng’er: “Heng’er, go change out of your wet clothes. Mother has something to tell you.”

Heng’er silently changed her clothes, wrapped her damp hair in a floral cloth, and returned to Mother Chen’s side.

“Heng’er.” Mother Chen reached up and touched her daughter’s cold cheek, her eyes full of tenderness, “Your father passed away a few days ago in an accident, and Mother… Mother won’t last much longer either. But it’s good that my Heng’er is blessed, that you still have family… Later—later, you should go with them. Go to the capital and live a good life… the life my Heng’er was always meant to live…”

Tears streamed down Heng’er’s face as she shook her head repeatedly: “I won’t leave you…”

“Silly child, Mother is going to join your father… Listen to me, you have an older sister, your father and my own daughter. She was lost when she was about the same age as you were back then… Originally, Mother intended to take this secret to the grave, but I never imagined Heng’er’s family would find her… Selfishly, Mother thought, perhaps your sister is still alive, perhaps Heng’er might even meet her one day…”

“Mother, I will find Sister.”

“Mother doesn’t want you to make such a promise. I’m just afraid that if you sisters ever do meet, you might not recognize each other. Heng’er, promise Mother you won’t deliberately search for your sister. That would be like looking for a needle in a haystack—” Mother Chen squeezed Heng’er’s hand tightly, “Promise Mother!”

Seeing her mother’s face flushed and her breathing rapid, Heng’er hurriedly said: “I promise!”

Mother Chen smiled, her vision already blurring, but she suddenly remembered something and gripped Heng’er’s hand even tighter: “Heng’er… your father had an accident on his way to town to fetch a doctor for Mother… It wasn’t… it wasn’t because he was looking for you…”

Her voice, filled with love and reluctance, gradually faded: “Heng’er, don’t blame yourself…”

The hand that had been gripping her daughter’s so tightly suddenly went slack.