This is no Guangshiyin—this is clearly a power…
The summer heat was gradually intensifying. At Red Jade Terrace, crimson petals drifted in chaotic flurries—over the eaves, along the paths, beneath the bridges—everywhere scattered with bright red camellia blossoms, as if the world were bleeding color.
An early summer breeze blew through the flowering trees. Xu Qiaoxi lay on the beauty couch beneath the blossoms, camellia petals falling over her like red snow.
One or two flowers, particularly bold, refused to drift down gently—they plummeted straight onto the book in her hands like severed heads.
Xu Qiaoxi started, quickly clutching her book and rising from the beauty couch to head indoors.
She couldn't stay there any longer.
A while back, when the spring weather was fine, she'd scouted out this spot at Red Jade Terrace—a place of deep shade and abundant blossoms—and set up a beauty couch there.
Xie Jilian had praised her, saying, "Appreciating flowers and listening to the wind, not wasting the spring's splendor—Qiaoxi has an elegant heart."
Xu Qiaoxi had honestly shaken her head. "I just wanted to sunbathe and nap."
Xie Jilian was truly an easygoing person. At Qianshui Chunting, Xu Qiaoxi could do whatever she pleased, and he indulged her greatly. Sometimes she felt too embarrassed to ask anything more of him.
Like now, for instance.
Red Jade Terrace had a considerable collection of books. Xu Qiaoxi, together with Lan Yan and Lu Yun, had gathered every volume of strange tales and supernatural accounts they could find.
Since there was still no word from Xie Jilian, she might as well search for some clue herself—treating a dead horse as if it were still alive.
Fortunately, Lan Yan knew a few characters and sat with Xu Qiaoxi under the eaves, helping her comb through the books. Lu Yun had never learned to read, so she set a small bamboo basket full of jasmine flowers on her lap and busied herself threading beads into bracelets—one for each of the three girls.
The faint, cool fragrance of jasmine temporarily soothed Xu Qiaoxi's restlessness.
She was, after all, a university student. But under the crushing weight of classical Chinese and traditional characters, she could only half-guess, half-conjecture her way through much of the text.
"Ugh…"
She sighed. Just then, someone came running in from outside the courtyard.
"Little Mistress, a young lady of the Wang family has come to pay her respects. Would you like to see her?"
"Huh? The Wang family?"
Xu Qiaoxi shook her head in less than a second.
"No. Tell her I'm ill."
Ever since Xie Jilian had brought her to the Pure Conversation gathering, visitors to Red Jade Terrace had come in an endless stream—one noble daughter, then another lady of some household. In truth, they all came to pry about Xie Jilian and her.
Just like refusing to let relatives into her room during the New Year, Xu Qiaoxi turned them all away, having grown quite skilled at making excuses.
"But…" The messenger hesitated. "This young lady of the Wang family—the Master regards her as a beloved younger sister. Will the Little Mistress still not see her?"
"No, no."
"…Very well. This servant will go and inform the young lady."
Xu Qiaoxi continued gnawing at her books. Lan Yan poked her. "The Wang family has come all the way back from the south. You're the Master's only close companion—wouldn't it be bad to keep turning them away?"
But Xie Jilian had said she could do whatever she wanted…
Wait a moment!
Xu Qiaoxi suddenly seized on a point, and her heart staged a small earthquake.
"South? Jiankang—the south?"
"That's right…" Lan Yan and Lu Yun both nodded, puzzled by her sudden agitation.
Slap!
Xu Qiaoxi threw down her book, grabbed her skirts, and chased after the messenger who had just reported.
"Wait! I'll see her!"
She shouted in a fluster, inwardly cursing herself for having wasted all her schooling.
The court's flight southward! Chaos was coming!
She'd been living the good life at Red Jade Terrace, and she'd even forgotten something like this!
Wang Mu'ai sat upright before a small low table, dressed in a crimson open-collar robe, her head gracefully bowed. Her beautiful, fair neck immediately caught Xu Qiaoxi's eye.
That small, delicate face was exquisitely proportioned, her chin tapering like a magnolia petal. Her sleeves drifted in the air—even seated, she looked like a fairy about to take flight.
Xu Qiaoxi stared openly at her for quite some time before her first, hesitant words came out:
"How old are you?"
Wang Mu'ai lifted her eyes slightly and said in a soft voice, "Fifteen. I have just reached the age of coming-of-age."
Only fifteen!
A middle schooler!
A beauty was indeed a beauty from the womb…
Wang Mu'ai's gaze drifted toward Xu Qiaoxi, only to find that this Little Mistress was simply staring at her in a daze—no pleasantries, no social graces, not a trace of the mistress of Red Jade Terrace about her.
A thread of delight ran through her heart, and the taut string inside her loosened.
Sitting even straighter, Wang Mu'ai's gaze swept past the window and landed on the red camellias outside.
"When was that beauty couch placed? Last time I came, I didn't see Brother Lingjia set one up."
"Oh, it was put there a couple of months ago."
Wang Mu'ai withdrew her gaze, a honeyed smile she couldn't quite suppress lingering at the corners of her lips.
"I once mentioned to Brother Lingjia that this spot would be perfect for a couch to admire the flowers. I thought he hadn't taken it to heart, but it turns out…"
She didn't finish her sentence, lowering her head as if shy. That magnolia-petal face flickered with a young girl's excitement and delight.
On the outer corridor, Lan Yan had finished checking the books in her hands. She carried them inside to report to Xu Qiaoxi, and happened to overhear Wang Mu'ai's words.
Kneeling at Xu Qiaoxi's side, she glanced at Wang Mu'ai and was about to puncture the girl's pretty fantasy when her hand—the one setting down the books—was squeezed.
Xu Qiaoxi blinked and asked her, "Did you find anything?"
Lan Yan had no choice but to answer first. "No. Not that I missed anything."
"Alright. You may go."
Lan Yan pouted, rose, and went outside to string bracelets with Lu Yun.
Xu Qiaoxi smiled at Wang Mu'ai and pushed the teacup on the table toward her.
"Please, have some tea."
It was only natural for a teenage girl to harbor a crush on an older brother figure. During her own adolescence, Xu Qiaoxi had buried herself in books, single-mindedly pursuing "preserving heavenly principles and extinguishing human desires." By the time her youth had passed, she realized there wasn't even a shadow of a boy in her heart.
Completely blank.
Sometimes she felt a twinge of regret about that.
Wang Mu'ai was at the perfect age now—the phrase "preserving heavenly principles and extinguishing human desires" hadn't even been coined yet.
"Does the young mistress take an interest in the Bowuzhi and the Dongmingji?"
Wang Mu'ai glanced at the books Lan Yan had set down earlier, then noticed a stack beside Xu Qiaoxi as well—the Shenyi Jing, the Jizhong Suoyu, and similar works.
All were strange books of immortals, ghosts, and supernatural tales. The young mistress liked these? No wonder her brother couldn't quite describe her.
"This…" Xu Qiaoxi was still mulling over how to answer when a tall, graceful figure swept into the room.
"Mu'ai, why didn't you tell Lian first when you arrived?" Xie Jilian's thin lips curved in a smile as he walked over and naturally took a seat beside Xu Qiaoxi.
There was a hint of apology in his eyes. "Qiaoxi hasn't been trained in social graces. If she's been remiss, Mu'ai, don't take it to heart."
Wang Mu'ai's expression brightened the moment she saw him, but then she noticed him sitting shoulder to shoulder with Xu Qiaoxi, and her breathing involuntarily slowed.
"The young mistress hasn't been remiss at all. Brother Lingjia worries too much."
Xie Jilian smiled faintly, also noticing the many books around them.
"Since when did you take up reading?"
It's all because of you…
Xu Qiaoxi's eyes darted about. "Aren't we competing to see who can tell the most wondrous story in the world? I thought I'd look through some books for inspiration."
At her words, the warmth in Xie Jilian's eyes cooled abruptly, leaving only a stiff smile on his lips.
He understood what Xu Qiaoxi was doing.
"Wouldn't this count as cheating, Qiaoxi? We agreed back then that each would handle their own part—Lian reads the books, and you search for the objects."
Xu Qiaoxi's lips curled.
This man was spouting nonsense again. She had gently reminded him of their agreement, and he actually made up stories to block her!
She didn't want to "cheat," but then he should actually make a move!
Xu Qiaoxi's chest heaved with indignation. She looked away, ignoring Xie Jilian.
Their exchange played out before Wang Mu'ai's eyes, and she recalled the words she'd overheard at Qingzhou Xiaoye that day—"Lian's love for his concubine is as firm as gold." Bitterness welled up in layers within her heart.
"Is this what they call 'the joys of the bedchamber'?"
Wang Mu'ai hid her smile behind her sleeve. "My brother has never married, so I rarely saw loving couples at home. I never knew before, but now I've witnessed it."
She looked up at Xu Qiaoxi. "If the young mistress is seeking wondrous things, Mu'ai happens to know of such a treasure here in Luoyang. Would the young mistress care to come see it with me?"
"A treasure?"
"Where to?"
Just as Xu Qiaoxi grew interested, Xie Jilian immediately pressed for details, his cold expression like frost under moonlight. Wang Mu'ai was startled for a moment, then softened her smile. "It's a secret. Brother Lingjia needn't worry—Mu'ai won't spirit the young mistress away. I'll return her to you whole and unharmed."
Xie Jilian watched as Xu Qiaoxi followed Wang Mu'ai without so much as a backward glance, then sat in place, his thoughts drifting.
She had refused every visitor these past days—why had she agreed to see the Wang girl?
Why was she searching for a way to "go home" on her own? Did she not trust him?
Xu Qiaoxi might be alone and adrift in Luoyang like floating duckweed, but if he could support her, so could others. What if she sought refuge with the Wang family…
Xie Jilian's gaze darkened. His palm pressed against a copy of the Dongmingji, his fingertips gradually turning white as the blood drained away.
"Yu Pu."
Yu Pu entered with head bowed, and heard the young master say softly: "Go to the Chuqia Bieyuan. Tell them I've agreed."
Outside the window, red camellias swayed, many of them steamed by the summer heat until they hung precariously, like severed heads held aloft.
Whether that little thing harbored treacherous intentions or not, he needed to make her understand that not all aristocratic young men were as gentle and indulgent as he was.
Baojia Temple.
Wang Mu'ai took Xu Qiaoxi by the sleeve and led her through many great halls to a side chamber.
Though it was a side chamber, Xu Qiaoxi felt it was more pristine and elegant than the other places—blue-green curtains bound by pearl-strung blinds, the room not choked with incense smoke like elsewhere, but instead cool and quiet, like…
Xie Jilian's bedchamber.
"Come here."
Wang Mu'ai walked to a white jade statue of Guanyin, a hint of something hidden in her smile.
"Look at this statue. Don't you think the eyes and brows look familiar?"
Xu Qiaoxi studied the statue—a Water-Moon Guanyin over five feet tall, wearing a floral crown, draped in a flowing sash, adorned with a jeweled necklace at the waist, one leg propped on the lotus pedestal, left hand in the abhaya mudra, right hand in the varada mudra, her expression gentle and beautiful, eyes closed in meditation.
"He… he looks like…"
Xu Qiaoxi's slightly furrowed brow suddenly relaxed, and she said in wonder: "He looks like Xie Jilian!"
"Mu'ai, what are you two doing here?"
The moment her words left her lips, Wang Yizhi's voice sounded from outside.
He was mildly surprised, then smiled softly at his sister. "I saw a figure from afar that looked like you, and sure enough, it was. Weren't you headed to Qianshuan Chunting? Why have you brought Lingjia's young mistress here?"
Wang Mu'ai trotted over and linked her arm through her elder brother's. "Elder Brother, you've come just in time. I was about to show Little Madam the treasure. You're better suited to tell its origin."
Xu Qiaoxi exchanged a brief glance with him, then lowered her head and murmured, "Wang Langjun."
Wang Yizhi nodded in return, then turned his gaze to the Guanyin statue.
"This statue is indeed a rare treasure. But Yizhi has come to Baojia Temple today to offer incense for my late teacher, Master Kong Jing. I have important matters to attend to, so I'll keep it brief—Little Madam won't mind, will she?"
Xu Qiaoxi obediently shook her head.
"Before Lingjia was born, his mother, Lady Gu, dreamed of Guangshiyin descending to enlighten the child in her womb. After waking, Lady Gu could not forget the vision for a long time. Grand Commandant Xie took it as an auspicious sign and had this statue commissioned, deliberately leaving the face blank. Only when Lingjia grew to maturity did they have artisans carve his features upon it, signifying him as the Guangyin child of the Xie family."
"Hence Lingjia also bears a nickname—'White Jade Guangshiyin.'"
"Guanyin?"
Wang Yizhi heard Xu Qiaoxi say "Guan" and thought she hadn't heard clearly. He bent slightly closer to her, slowing his lip movements for her to read, as if teaching a child to speak: "Guang—shi—yin."
His lips were beautifully shaped, with a hint of a pout, and white teeth peeked through as they opened and closed. Xu Qiaoxi felt her mind waver for a moment.
Sin, oh sin—do the Wang and Xie families only produce beauties?
Setting aside the distraction of his looks, Xu Qiaoxi registered the difference between "Guanyin" and "Guangshiyin."
The two-character title she was familiar with had formed gradually in later ages, especially through the Tang dynasty, and differed greatly from the original three-character translation.
In Xie Jilian and Wang Yizhi's world, there was only "Guangshiyin," not "Guanyin."
Xu Qiaoxi gazed at the Guangshiyin statue and discerned the meaning of this "treasure." It was nothing more than the Xie family gilding their own reputation—crafting a Xie scion blessed by the gods to help the family flourish even further.
This was no Guangshiyin—it was naked ambition and desire.
Wang Mu'ai said, "Little Madam, if you're looking for a miraculous treasure, this statue is it—a son blessed by Guangshiyin who himself became Guangshiyin. Tell this to Lingjia-gege, and I guarantee he won't be able to say a single word before admitting defeat."
Wang Yizhi watched his clever, mischievous sister and smiled quietly. "Yizhi must go offer incense for my late teacher. I'll take my leave now. Mu'ai, stay here and keep Little Madam company."
"Ah, Elder Brother! Old Master Kong was my enlightenment teacher too—I want to offer incense as well."
Wang Mu'ai stepped forward to follow her brother, then turned to Xu Qiaoxi. "I'll be right back."
Wang Yizhi couldn't refuse his sister, and thinking she had a point, let her follow.
Xu Qiaoxi was left alone in the side hall, idly toying with the pearl strands hanging from the curtain.
This era was actually the turn of the Western and Eastern Jin. From how frequently the Wang family traveled south, it was clear the gentry had already begun abandoning the north.
Afterward, to escape the chaos of war, everyone would migrate south.
To survive, she needed to build good relations with the Wang family and persuade Xie Jilian not to stubbornly hold on to Luoyang.
Xu Qiaoxi's face was clouded with worry, uncertain whether she could survive on her meager knowledge.
She paced over to the White Jade Guangshiyin statue and, after much deliberation, pressed her palms together and bowed.
"I beg you, Xie Langjun—at a moment of life and death, can you not quibble with the Wang family?"
She closed her eyes and prayed in a whisper, when suddenly both her wrists were seized by a scorching-hot hand, clamped tight as if welded with iron, impossible to break free.
Xu Qiaoxi gasped in fright and snapped her eyes open. A familiar handsome face was flushed with an eerie red, eyes bloodshot and glistening with moisture, gazing at her with infatuation.
"Wen Shuo! Let me go!"
Xu Qiaoxi's body temperature fled in an instant; a chill crept over every inch of her skin.
He wasn't normal. Too hot, too red—none of it was normal.
Wen Shuo let out a muffled, hoarse laugh, pressing his coal-like body against Xu Qiaoxi until her back was forced against the Guangshiyin's knees and lap.
The white jade was cold and rigid.
Wen Shuo buried his face in the hollow of her neck. "I need to Xingsan. Kind miss, please help me…"