During the Crown Prince’s recovery, Chen Jiao fully exercised her skills as a devoted junior, attending to him with such thoughtful care that anyone watching would praise her attentiveness.
She was always at his side: when he was thirsty, she brought hot water before he even asked; when he was tired and wanted to sleep, she settled beside him; when he awoke, she was immediately at work again.
Everyone else was deeply moved, convinced that Chen Jiao’s loyalty to the Crown Prince was truly witnessed by Heaven and Earth. They remembered how they had once suspected her of trying to steal their positions, realizing now how wrong that judgment had been.
Chen Jiao smiled cheerfully on the surface, but she had her own little schemes in mind.
The abbot of Daming Temple, Master Huiyan, was renowned throughout the current dynasty, skilled in astronomy, divination, and astrology, now nearing a hundred years old. Legend said that when the founder of the dynasty campaigned across the land, he once passed by Daming Temple and encountered a monk who gave a prophetic comment; later, he indeed ascended to the throne. That monk, famed for discerning talent, had been Master Huiyan’s teacher.
Chen Jiao’s visit to Daming Temple was not only to accompany the Crown Prince in paying respects to the late Empress, but also because she secretly wished to see Master Huiyan and perhaps have him divine her fortune.
She had not forgotten that she was transmigrated into a book, in which she had been a minor, expendable character with a grim ending. Although the original male protagonist had not yet appeared and she had changed her status to heir, diverging greatly from the original plot, a shadow of worry lingered in her heart.
Fate, after all, was mysterious. Chen Jiao feared she could not alter the story’s trajectory and hoped to seize this opportunity to ask Master Huiyan for guidance.
It was said that Master Huiyan had inherited his teacher’s profound skills, excelling in divination and astrology, and his reputation in the dynasty was formidable. Over the years, countless nobles, including the Empress Dowager, sought him out, but most were turned away, unable to persuade him.
Chen Jiao, a mere marquis’s heir, felt she lacked the standing to have him divine her fortune.
Fortunately, Master Huiyan had a good relationship with the Crown Prince. Chen Jiao had planned to curry favor with him to secure an introduction, but as things often go, plans did not align with circumstances. The Crown Prince needed rest, and she could not disturb him for her own agenda.
For two days, the Crown Prince rested quietly, and the entire group at Daming Temple fell into an unusual hush.
With nothing pressing to do, Chen Jiao wandered the temple grounds alone.
The Crown Prince was still not fully recovered, and she abandoned her original plan, deciding to seek another method.
In the quiet rear courtyard of Daming Temple’s Buddha hall, only birdsong filled the mountains. The abbot had secluded himself in meditation, seeing no outsiders, and Chen Jiao came merely hoping for a stroke of luck.
Whether or not she could meet Master Huiyan remained uncertain, and even if she did, she might not persuade him to divine her fortune.
She stood along a small path, idly, contemplating leaving, when a gentle voice called from behind, “The mountains can be confusing, young friend, are you lost?”
Turning, Chen Jiao saw a kindly elderly monk, with a benevolent face, wearing a worn robe and holding a string of prayer beads. “You seem unfamiliar, likely an outsider.”
Chen Jiao vaguely guessed his identity, almost unable to believe it, while simultaneously wondering what to say to convince him to divine her fortune.
After a few seconds of thought, unwilling to lie, she said honestly, “I came hoping to see the abbot for a reading. I heard he is in seclusion, so I came here on a whim.”
The elderly monk, after hearing her reply, first looked surprised, then nodded knowingly with a warm smile. “Very well, it seems we are fated.”
He walked to a stone table beneath a Bodhi tree, set down his staff, and gestured for her to join him. “Then let us proceed.”
Chen Jiao’s eyes widened. “Ah?”
The monk smiled gently, “I owe your grandmother a reading.”
Chen Jiao was stunned. She had no idea such a connection existed.
After a brief hesitation, she resolved to return home and ask her grandmother later, then quickly ran to the stone table, sitting down nervously.
The monk asked, “What would you like to know, love or career?”
Chen Jiao froze. She dared not reveal the original plot’s events, finally replying, “Career, I suppose.”
The elderly monk nodded slightly. “A single thought can alter the thread of fate. In the future, you, young heir, shall rise beyond measure.”
Chen Jiao blinked, then smiled, muttering to herself, “Really? Will I be this powerful in the future?”
Before she could ponder further, she rose and bowed respectfully. “Thank you, Master Huiyan.”
The monk chuckled silently, untying a red cord from his pouch and handing it to Chen Jiao to wear on her wrist, then shook his head and departed.
Strangely, though advanced in years, the monk moved swiftly, disappearing along the path in the blink of an eye.
Chen Jiao gazed after him, recalling his words, a light and joyful smile spreading across her face.
Beyond measure. She was determined to become the Crown Prince’s first and foremost junior, a close minister of the emperor. It seemed her future self would succeed beautifully.
Just then, Eunuch Zhang came rushing over, flustered. “Ah, my Chen Jiao, you dawdle here, and the Crown Prince is looking for you!”
Without a second thought, she followed him. Upon arrival, she saw the Crown Prince quietly playing chess with a middle-aged monk.
Once the game ended, Xie Xianqing introduced her, “This is Master Huiyan, abbot of Daming Temple.”
Chen Jiao froze. “He’s Master Huiyan?!”
Then who was the elderly monk she had just met? He was not the abbot, so why had he said, we are fated, and sent her to seek a reading?
Recalling his calm words, Chen Jiao felt a swirl of conflicting emotions. She had often left others speechless, but this was the first time she herself felt that choking sensation.
The Crown Prince, still pale from recent illness, softly warned, “Do not be disrespectful to the abbot.”
Xie Xianqing, seemingly on good terms with Master Huiyan, glanced at Chen Jiao as the abbot closed the chessboard. “The abbot lost this game to me today and agreed to divine your fortune.”
Just as he spoke, Master Huiyan pointed at the red cord on Chen Jiao’s wrist, shaking his head with a smile. “Impossible. Chen Jiao has already had a reading here today. My divination ends here.” He then gathered the chessboard and walked off leisurely.
Chen Jiao, still reeling from having been tricked by an unassuming old monk, covered her heart, feeling her blood pressure rise.
After Master Huiyan left, Xie Xianqing glanced at her, offering no reproach. Eunuch Zhang, however, flushed with embarrassment, realizing how valuable it was to receive a reading from the abbot, and lamented her missed opportunity.
He whispered urgently, “Chen Jiao, what are you doing? The Crown Prince knew you wanted Master Huiyan’s divination, and as soon as he felt better, he found the abbot through a chess game and won a reading for you. And you went wandering, seeking fortune elsewhere, wasting this golden chance.”
Chen Jiao gasped, clutching her chest. “Master, please, I was wrong.”
Xie Xianqing, with a trace of regret but seeing her earnestness, smiled faintly and waved. “Don’t fuss. Next time we climb the mountain, I will seek him for you again.”
Chen Jiao immediately relaxed, smiling brightly, running to the Crown Prince’s side, supporting his arm and fussing over him. “Ah, my Lord, you’ve just recovered in this cold weather. How can you be outside in the wind?”
She was certain that joining the Crown Prince’s faction and clinging to his side had been the right choice. Whether she had been tricked today or not, as long as he was by her side, lost opportunities could be regained.
Mimicking Eunuch Zhang’s tone, she followed the Crown Prince like a loyal little tail, attentively asking, “Your Highness, are you hungry? Thirsty? The temple’s vegetarian meals are delicious. If you are hungry, I can fetch a bowl for you right now.”
The Crown Prince’s youthful voice was cheerful, and Xie Xianqing found it both noisy and amusing. He stopped and glanced at her, whispering, “Speak properly.”
“Oh, if you’re not hungry, would Your Highness like tea infused with green plums?”
“You like it? Is it good?”
They walked and chatted toward the outer court, Eunuch Zhang standing dumbfounded, only realizing later, wiping his face, feeling inexplicably unsettled.
Meanwhile, in another small courtyard, Master Huiyan observed his own teacher with some exasperation. “Master, did you just divine Chen Jiao’s fortune?” Seeing the red cord on her wrist, he immediately recognized it as his teacher’s handiwork.
Only a very few knew that when the dynasty’s founder returned from campaigns and passed by Daming Temple, the monk who had given the prophecy had been but a young man, and was still alive today.
The elder monk stroked his beard. “I owed her grandmother a reading, so today I repaid it.”
Master Huiyan sighed. “It was a kindness to your grandmother. Yet the young heir’s divination seems disorderly; perhaps a life of brief fortune and limited longevity.” Indeed, in the original story, Chen Jiao had died unexpectedly young.
His teacher scoffed, “You know nothing. I see her future beyond measure.”
A mother of the nation, donning the phoenix robe. Decades later, at last, he had fulfilled the promise to that woman’s bowl of porridge.