The spring snow fell like pulled cotton and scattered floss, frost clinging to the trembling tips of pine and cypress branches shaken by the northern wind. Snow melted into rain, bringing a biting chill—this spring was markedly colder than previous years.
When Tian Qin arrived at the mansion gate wrapped in a thick cape, the carriage was already prepared, fine snow sprinkling over her head like scattered sand.
The Yu family were devout Buddhists. Every year at the start of spring, the entire household would journey to Fa Hui Temple in the mountains to stay for ten-odd days—chanting scriptures, praying for blessings, and quietly bathing in Buddhist teachings.
Yu Yuan, He Shi, Xianqiu, and Ku Ju successively boarded the carriages. Yu Ye and Yu Yan remained temporarily at the mansion due to heavy academic burdens, claiming they needed to catch up on studies and would follow in a few days.
The Yu family procession ascended the mountain through the snow. The spring snow fell thick and fast like willow catkins, though not enough to block the mountain path.
The guide said the spring snow was harmless, but the accumulated winter snow at the mountain peak was somewhat treacherous. The mountain path was steep, and the fluctuating weather made accidents highly likely. Still, they just needed to pass through quickly.
Tian Qin was arranged to share a carriage with Xianqiu.
Xianqiu pointed out the early spring scenery along the mountain path, holding her hand and speaking softly throughout the journey, her laughter tinkling like silver bells.
Tian Qin was distracted, gazing blankly out the window at the gloomy late-winter sky where crows startled into flight, swaying gently among the frost-covered trees.
Her mood felt similarly chilled.
Upon reaching Fa Hui Temple, the monks arranged quarters in the outer courtyard. With many women from the Yu household, the inner courtyard was prohibited.
Moreover, Lord Xie was currently residing in the inner courtyard, setting examination questions for the upcoming Late Spring Strategy Examination, making it necessary to prevent leaks.
The Yu family hadn’t come for the examination questions and paid it little mind, each settling in, bathing and changing clothes before burning incense and worshipping Buddha.
Monks knelt in their quarters performing rituals, their chanting voices drifting through along with the rapid, loud tapping of wooden fish like pounding rain.
He Shi, Xianqiu, and others took vegetarian meals in the dining hall, vowing to touch no meat throughout the days of worship to demonstrate piety.
Worried Tian Qin might struggle with the temple’s plain fare, Zhao Lu and Wan Cui busied themselves making spring pancakes with magnolia flowers, bickering noisily over the amount of sugar.
Unable to calm them, Tian Qin secretly changed into a plain white spring dress and left her room to burn incense and make wishes before the Buddha in the Treasure Hall.
Fa Hui Temple was known for its efficacy—she hoped it would prove true.
She knelt devoutly on the cushion, hands pressed together, long lashes tightly closed, her spirit echoing through the solemn Treasure Hall with the distant mountain bell, wishing to cleanly escape both the Xie and Yu families.
The wind grew colder, the spring snow falling thicker like scattered salt.
Milky mist drifted among the pale mountains, the temple stood silent, sunlight faint, spiderwebs trembling pitifully in the wind—everything blended into monochrome where clear light reflected the snow’s glow.
When Xie Tanwei approached, Tian Qin was kneeling straight before the Buddha drawing a fortune slip, her expression focused as she tried to draw the most auspicious one.
Her slender wrists emerged from her sleeves, bathed in Buddha’s light. Her silhouette appeared sweet as rice cake, softer than spring snow, like verdant mountains touched with light rouge, reminiscent of sweet, mellow rice wine.
Xie Tanwei watched quietly for a while, his warm gaze unconsciously following her, feeling every inch of her perfectly suited his preferences, every inch stirring the filthiest desires within.
With slight training, she could become a fine concubine, or thrown into hidden quarters to be trained as a songstress specializing in pleasing men—she was excellent material.
Even if she could only be a plaything, she’d be the highest grade—the kind men would spend fortunes on.
Her current appearance—kneeling pure in white before the Buddha yet radiating desire—was somewhat laughable. The Buddha wouldn’t heed an insincere worshiper.
He advanced toward her step by step, his shadow deep and dark.
Tian Qin, hearing the footsteps, assumed it was Zhao Lu or Wan Cui. With her eyes closed, she issued a soft instruction, but received no response. Only then did she abruptly turn her head, and Xie Tanwei’s transcendent, aloof figure—elegant and imposing—leapt into view.
She was instantly startled, her face losing all color.
“When did Brother-in-law arrive?” After a moment to compose herself, she steadied her nerves, a hint of reproach surfacing in her dimpled smile. “…You didn’t say a word.”
Xie Tanwei gazed at her thick, dark crow eyelashes, his expression tinged with languid indifference. “What kind of fortune stick requires such secrecy?”
Instinctively, Tian Qin concealed the cylinder of sticks within the folds of her skirt, affecting a delicate gentleness while guarding her defenses. “These are the private thoughts of a young woman. It’s not proper for Brother-in-law to look too closely or ask too many questions.”
The spring snow whispered softly outside. In the hall, the Buddha’s light glimmered faintly. Apart from the clay statues, only the two of them remained in the Treasure Hall—empty, cold, and austere.
The temple gates stood wide open, allowing chilly winds to sweep in from all sides, bringing a sobering coolness. The snow-covered courtyard subdued the spring atmosphere, silent and devoid of birdsong.
Once again, Tian Qin found herself trapped alone with him. She longed for an opportunity to leave, but Xie Tanwei stood squarely at the threshold of the Treasure Hall, his shoulders dusted with soft, damp spring snow.
She remembered another time in a Buddhist temple in her past life—when he had pressed her against the incense altar, murmuring tender words, yet his terrifying rhythm had brought her to the brink of death, crushing her to the bone.
Enveloped in suffocation, all her helplessness devoured, she could only tremble uncontrollably and endure.
It was a nightmare, yet also a mark that could never be erased.
Tian Qin struggled to shake off the nightmare and suddenly lifted her gaze to find Xie Tanwei’s eyes as if drenched in icy, piercing cold water—seemingly capable of penetrating her heart.
The matter of selecting a concubine—he had done it deliberately.
It had nothing to do with affection. She dared to play petty tricks right under his nose, so he was determined to torment her, trap her, and ruthlessly destroy everything she had painstakingly built since her rebirth.
If she had obediently become a concubine, it would have been dull. What he wanted was the struggle of his prey—to relish the thrill of toying and capturing.
“I can interpret fortune sticks.”
Xie Tanwei bent down as if to take her cylinder, but she stopped him again, her body—slumped on the prayer mat—shrinking backward.
“Let me see it.”
She demurred, “Does Brother-in-law believe in Buddha as well? I had thought you were a pure Confucian scholar.”
His hand hung empty in mid-air as he joked softly, “Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism are all one family. Do I look like a devout, benevolent believer to you?”
She scoffed inwardly. A devout, benevolent believer?
More like a heart as venomous as a snake or scorpion.
Seeing her resistance, Xie Tanwei swept his robes aside and sat on a nearby prayer mat, wearing a polite yet icy smile.
“What’s the matter, Third Sister? Too afraid? You dare confide in Buddha but not in your brother-in-law?”
“If you share your wishes with me, Third Sister, they might come true even faster.”
Tian Qin felt an intense pressure.
With him so close, even the slightest of her movements—down to a tiny flicker of disdain—was clearly visible to him.
Worst of all, the faint scent of damp snow clinging to him invaded her senses, unsettling her nerves.
Reluctantly, she slowly uncurled her palm, revealing a stick of the worst fortune. She had been inquiring about marriage prospects.
Xie Tanwei mused thoughtfully, “Third Sister’s path to marriage seems troubled.”
Troubled—and all thanks to him. Tian Qin silently cursed him in her heart, but aloud she replied calmly, “Tian Qin is simply lacking in fortune. And Brother-in-law’s marriage? You and Second Sister are such a devoted couple—it must be exceedingly blissful.”
His harmonious and loving relationship with Xianqiu was evident to all, a model couple in both her past and present lives—something she had always witnessed.
Otherwise, he wouldn’t have spared no effort in siding with Xianqiu without even bothering to inquire when she framed Tian Qin and Zhao Lu for theft.
Because Xianqiu disliked her, he hadn’t allowed her to see her own child for years, not even providing charcoal for her when she lay dying after a difficult childbirth. Before her death, she was filled with endless regret.
Tian Qin thought this was the case, but Xie Tanwei shook his head: “Your sister has been chronically ill for years, so it can’t be considered a blissful marriage.”
Tian Qin nearly forgot that he and Xianqiu couldn’t have children, and added: “Don’t worry, Brother-in-law, sister will recover gradually with proper care.”
He nodded, showing little interest in discussing Xianqiu, instead directing more attention toward her.
Tian Qin felt his presence seeping into her like a quiet yet heavy spring rain – neither passionate nor cold, imperceptibly affecting her, much like the two of them watching the fluttering spring snow before the Buddha at this moment.
“Marrying someone you love, holding your own marital fate in your hands – even if there are regrets, it’s still blissful.”
Her gentle tone commented on his marriage with her sister while subtly alluding to his going back on his word and forcing her to become a concubine.
“What does Brother-in-law think?”
Xie Tanwei understood immediately and countered lightly, “Oh? So the private tutor pleases you that much?”
Tian Qin didn’t deny it, her implication-filled words carrying suggestive meaning as she softened her tone, “Mr. Xu treats Yan Ge’er very well, the whole family is quite satisfied. Brother-in-law would certainly be pleased too if you met him.”
The air grew tense again for a moment.
He raised an eyebrow: “Is that so?”
Tian Qin ultimately couldn’t face him with complete frankness and fearlessness. Her fingers twisted instinctively – she could secretly mock him a little, but when he pursued the matter, she became like a deflated dandelion, bare and exposed.
The atmosphere grew tense as drawn swords; continuing would surely lead to an argument.
Xie Tanwei didn’t press further, treating it as a young woman’s jest.
Slowly and solemnly, he asked again: “What exactly has been troubling you lately, little sister? Tell your brother-in-law, and I’ll certainly stand up for you.”
That day under the wisteria in early spring at Xie Residence, he had asked her once before, and she had hidden her thoughts and lied.
Today before the Buddha, he hoped she wouldn’t lie again.
The her in his memory shouldn’t be like this at all. Many things about her now seemed off, her words and actions everywhere revealing strangeness.
In their previous life, he had wronged her. If she held resentment, that was acceptable – she should speak out. What needed compensation would be compensated, what required apology would be apologized for. This was better than everyone guessing at this unspoken riddle.
But if she didn’t speak up and continued this daily manipulation and awkwardness, then it would be her fault. Once she entered the residence as a concubine, who would indulge her like this every day?
Tian Qin clearly heard him ask this question for the second time, understanding it as a subtle reminder that even making a scene should have its limits. Making a scene could earn some compensation, but this compensation must remain within boundaries.
Making endless, boundaryless scenes – such as planning to marry someone else – would be meaningless.
Instead of gaining compensation, she would be punished.
But this time, Tian Qin wouldn’t compromise.
She faintly contained defiance, remaining silent as the atmosphere visibly developed toward the most dreadful direction.
At this final moment, she was deciding whether to break with him completely now. After all, she absolutely wouldn’t repeat the mistakes of her previous life.
If she made a scene in the Buddha hall, she, as an illegitimate daughter, had nothing to fear – her situation couldn’t be worse than now.
But he was a great scholar of their time, a model teacher who must care about his reputation and couldn’t afford to be pointed at and called a shameless villain who forced his wife’s sister by scholars throughout the land.
Therefore, she wasn’t afraid of him.
Tian Qin’s eyelashes fluttered intensely. She took a deep breath, her delicate eyebrows furrowing sharply, about to utter words that would cross all boundaries in the next moment.
Yet Xie Tanwei interrupted at that instant, saying, “Let’s calm down with a game of chess.”
A sharp pain throbbed at Tian Qin’s temples. Just as she was about to refuse, she heard him add, “If you win, I’ll grant your wish.”