The original text once described Pei Guanzhu's appearance: as bright as the cold moon, with pale skin that did not conceal his youthful spirit, possessing an androgynous beauty that reminded one of a Buddha statue adorned with gold and rings.
When Xia Jian first read this passage, she truly couldn't imagine what Pei Guanzhu looked like. To enhance her immersion, her mind had arbitrarily superimposed the image of a popular, divinely handsome young actor onto the character of Pei Guanzhu.
But now, seeing him in person, all those so-called divine looks and heavenly faces paled in comparison to his appearance, completely forgotten in an instant.
Sneeze after sneeze followed, growing more intense rather than subsiding. Xia Jian's eyes streamed with tears.
Finally, when the mountain wind suddenly ceased, Shaoyao—who had taken her small savings—tugged at the sleeve of her light pink outer garment. "You are too kind, Miss Cousin. Our eldest young master's health has been the same for years, but you… could it be that you caught a chill from traveling day and night?"
"No," Xia Jian instinctively turned her eyes to refute, but when she looked back toward the opposite corridor, there was no trace of anyone left.
The mountain wind tousled the red silk ribbons hanging on both sides of the corridor. The spring breeze of March felt icy against the skin, and Xia Jian shivered.
How could a living person just vanish like that?
She walked forward to the red bench where someone had been sitting just moments before, about to lean over and look around, when Shaoyao held her back. "What are you looking at, Miss Cousin? With the spring chill, it's best not to linger outside. Come back with me quickly."
"No," Xia Jian replied, "I just saw someone sitting here."
At these words, Shaoyao's face instantly turned pale, her voice trembling. "Wh-what kind of person?!"
Xia Jian hadn't expected such a strong reaction and was stunned for a moment before understanding why.
Rumors of hauntings in the estate were rampant. Although the original novel mentioned that only Madam Chen claimed to have seen ghosts and always secretly hired wandering Taoist priests to perform rituals in the estate, the more she tried to conceal it, the more suspicious the servants became.
"What's there to fear? In broad daylight, it must have been a living person."
She was certain the person sitting there had been Pei Guanzhu, because in the original book, only Pei Guanzhu wore a gold ring on his ankle.
But how could someone who had been sitting there just moments ago disappear in the blink of an eye?
Xia Jian comforted herself, thinking she might have been mistaken. After all, Pei Guanzhu had no reason to run away at the sight of her.
Shaoyao was still frightened, clutching the money pouch in her left hand and tugging at Xia Jian's sleeve with her right. "Miss Cousin, what did the person you saw look like? Was it hideous, resembling a human?"
As she spoke, Shaoyao tremblingly pulled out a portrait from her sleeve to show Xia Jian. "This was drawn by a servant in our estate… who claimed to have seen a ghost. Miss Cousin, did the thing you see look like this?"
Xia Jian leaned in for a closer look. The portrait depicted a face that looked as if it had been run over by a carriage, with beady eyes and a bulbous nose. It wasn't terrifying—just ugly, so ugly it was almost comical.
Shaoyao explained that she had bought this portrait for six copper coins. Everyone in the estate carried a copy to recognize ghosts quickly and flee, making it so popular that new ones now cost double the price.
Xia Jian thought: Good heavens, even this can create a business opportunity.
"He doesn't look like that," Xia Jian thought. If ghosts really looked like that, people would probably burst out laughing at the sight of one. "I must have been mistaken. But he's definitely not a ghost—he's a living person, and he's not ugly either."
Taking advantage of Pei Guanzhu's inability to hear her, Xia Jian replied, "That person is quite handsome."
Having stayed at Pei Fu for three days, Xia Jian had remained in Qingling Yuan, the courtyard Madam Chen had arranged for her. Aside from Shaoyao bringing her three meals a day at set times, it was as if she had been forgotten by the entire Pei Fu—no one had come to see her.
On the evening of the third day, a woman with a harsh face lifted the curtain to Xia Jian's room.
"Greetings, Miss Cousin. Our Madam has asked you to join her for dinner tonight."
Xia Jian acknowledged the message and began to tidy herself up. The woman stood guard at the door, waiting with an air of haughtiness.
Xia Jian found her face familiar and recalled that this woman had been among the group who escorted her to Pei Fu. She was also one of Madam Chen's trusted subordinates.
Xia Jian draped a red cotton cloak embroidered with winding branches over herself, wrapped a white fur scarf around her neck, and headed out with Shaoyao. As she stepped over the threshold, she said to the woman, "Mammy Wang, let's go."
Granny Wang was momentarily taken aback but nodded and lifted the curtain for Xia Jian.
The evening in March was bitterly cold.
A maid waiting at the entrance lifted the thick curtain for the three of them. Before they even entered, sharp, piercing laughter echoed from inside the room. The candlelight flickered wildly, swaying as if disturbed by an invisible, eerie wind, casting the twisted, shifting shadows of the people inside onto the walls and wooden floor.
Xia Jian looked up and saw the shrine on the altar table again, along with the dead pig's head on the nearby table. The distorted shadows seemed to dance in a strange, lurching manner, reflected on the shrine and the pig's head. Xia Jian swallowed, her fingertips turning cold. The scene felt deeply terrifying, as if she were trapped in an inescapable nightmare, unconsciously joining the dream and becoming one of them.
She took a deep breath, gripping the black crystal pendant hanging around her neck tightly. Only then did her racing heart gradually settle back into place.
"Miss Cousin, please go in quickly. Don't keep Madam waiting."
Xia Jian nodded and stepped around to the dining room on the right.
As the thick curtain was lifted, the sharp laughter suddenly ceased. The maids and women gathered around the Eight Immortals table still wore smiles on their faces, as if donning identical masks, and turned their heads one by one to look at her.
The flickering candlelight gradually steadied. Xia Jian's gaze pushed through the dense crowd of shadows before she could see two people seated at the Eight Immortals table: one was Madam Chen, expressionless and heavily pregnant, and the other was a young boy dressed in brocade, his waist embraced by a beautiful maid.
This is unbelievable.
What kind of awful environment is this?
Xia Jian took a deep breath. "Greetings, Madam."
The earlier roomful of sharp laughter hadn't shaken her awake, but Xia Jian's greeting seemed to jolt Madam Chen's soul back into place.
Madam Chen shuddered, her dull eyes widening as she looked over.
She had grown even thinner since their first meeting, her cheeks sunken, dark circles under her eyes, and her lips painted with bright red lip rouge. Her hair was meticulously styled, adorned with pearls and jewels, and she wore layers of luxurious brocade garments. Her entire appearance exuded a withered kind of refinement.
She motioned for Xia Jian to come sit. Xia Jian walked past the young boy embraced by the beautiful maid and silently took a seat on the other side of Madam Chen.
She couldn't be bothered with ancient methods of child-rearing, but every time she entered Madam Chen's room, she felt deeply uncomfortable from the inside out.
"Are you settling in well here?"
"It's alright." Xia Jian picked up her empty bowl and had the maid beside her fill it with rice, then grabbed a large pork rib and started gnawing on it.
For a moment, the room fell completely silent, with only Xia Jian happily chewing on her rib.
Xia Jian wondered, "Why aren't any of you eating?"
Only then did the mother and son snap out of it. The boy dismissed the maid and picked up his jade chopsticks to join the meal.
Xia Jian glanced around. "Why is it only the third young master and you? Where is the eldest young master?"
As soon as she finished speaking, Madam Chen's hollow eye sockets widened instantly. She clenched her jade chopsticks, her breathing growing heavy. Just as she was about to part her crimson lips to speak, a maid rushed in from outside and shouted, "Madam, the eldest young master is here!"
"No, no… Jingnu…" Madam Chen's teeth chattered, her voice even softer than her breathing. But Xia Jian, seated beside her, heard it clearly. She looked up to see Madam Chen staring wide-eyed at the doorway, as if knowing a vengeful ghost was approaching and unable to move.
The cotton curtain lifted, letting in a chill. Just as Xia Jian was about to look up, a hand suddenly clamped tightly around her wrist resting on the table, sharp fingernails digging deep into her flesh.
"Ah—!"
Xia Jian cried out in pain, trying to break free but lacking the strength. The jade chopsticks in her right hand clattered to the floor. Madam Chen's eyes seemed ready to bulge out of their sockets. She had been muttering softly earlier, but upon seeing the person with her own eyes, she let out a piercing scream.
"No! Don't—! Don't! Go! You go! Jingnu! Get out! Get out!"
The sharp fingernails nearly dug into her bone. Xia Jian's tears streamed down from the pain. Suddenly, the grip on her wrist loosened—Madam Chen had risen from her wooden stool, screaming as she stood up and fled the dining hall!
"Madam! Madam!"
"Mother!"
The exquisite dishes laid out on the Eight Immortals table were overturned by Madam Chen. Chaos erupted in the dining hall as maids and servants chased after her, running in all directions. Even the young master, who had been indulging in pleasures earlier, turned pale and rushed out after her. In an instant, the dining hall was emptied, leaving only Xia Jian clutching her wrist and weeping.
She feared pain the most. In her past life, accidentally cutting her hand with a knife would hurt for half a day. She had never been pinched so hard before.
The warm candlelight that had enveloped her was replaced by a shadow. Pale, cold fingers gently took Xia Jian's left hand, slid off the emerald jade bracelet she wore on her wrist, and placed it on the Eight Immortals table with a soft clink.
"How pitiful."
Xia Jian heard him speak. His voice wasn't deliberately gentle but naturally soft-spoken, giving the illusion that he must have a very good temper just by listening.
Xia Jian smelled the heavy sandalwood fragrance that had lingered outside the hall now gathering around her again. The other person held her hand. Xia Jian lowered her gaze, her vision blurred by tears, sweeping past a corner of his dark blue robe and settling on the golden ring adorning his pale right ankle.
"Does it hurt?"
Xia Jian didn't answer. She lifted her face and, for the first time, truly laid eyes on Pei Guanzhu's face.
The flickering candlelight cast shadows on his pale complexion. His face bore a somewhat sickly appearance, his features seemingly otherworldly. His well-shaped phoenix eyes were pitch-black, impervious to the dancing candlelight, which failed to penetrate the darkness within.
The original text once described Pei Guanzhu's appearance as having a Buddha-like quality due to its otherworldliness, resembling an androgynous deity.
But now, seeing him in person, Xia Jian felt that shouldn't be said.
Deities show compassion for all living beings.
—Yet as Pei Guanzhu watched her tears fall, the corners of his eyes and brows were clearly tinged with a smile.
What was he smiling about?
Was he smiling at the farce that had just unfolded, or at her cries of pain and tear-streaked face?
"Cousin?"