Xuanmu Mountain, Panxiang Temple.
The mountain wind blew through the ancient pines and cypresses, carrying a faint scent of sandalwood incense.
Inside a quiet Meditation Room, two cups of steaming tea sat on a wooden table.
Miaoyu picked up one of the cups, her movements ethereal.
She glanced at the Young Lady opposite her.
“Your heart is unsettled.”
Xing Xiuyan started slightly and looked up.
She was wearing a faded, light-pinkish-brown dress today; it was washed somewhat pale but remained neat.
Her appearance was not dazzlingly beautiful, but rather possessed a quiet beauty, like Orchid Grass in the mountains.
Her brows and eyes were clear and open, her nose bridge delicate, and the curve of her lips naturally held a degree of peace; even in this humble dwelling, it was hard to conceal that innate elegance and composure.
“Sister Miaoyu, I…”
“You are worrying about your father again.”
“He left before dawn, saying he was going to seek an old friend, but I feel uneasy.”
Miaoyu snorted coldly.
“Old friend? His old friends are either at the drinking table or the gambling table.”
“Why bother with him? That piece of rotten wood is beyond saving.”
Xing Xiuyan lowered her eyelids and said softly, “But he is still my father.”
“Father?” Miaoyu stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the distant mountain range.
“If it weren't for you, I would have long since left Suzhou and found a quieter place.”
“Being dragged down by him like this, when will it end?”
Xing Xiuyan said nothing, merely picked up the other cup of tea silently.
She and Miaoyu had grown up together in this temple.
Miaoyu was aloof and did not associate with worldly people, yet she treated Xing Xiuyan as a sister.
All the characters she learned and the books she read were taught by Miaoyu.
“Forget it.” Miaoyu sighed, her tone softening slightly.
“In a few more days, the snow I collected from the plum blossoms last year can be opened.”
“At that time, I will brew tea for you to drink.”
“So you can taste what the only clean thing in this world tastes like.”
A faint smile finally appeared on Xing Xiuyan’s face.
“Good.”
However, before the smile could fade, a commotion arose from outside the Meditation Room.
Then came her mother’s sharp cries.
Xing Xiuyan’s expression changed, and she ran out, clutching the hem of her skirt.
Miaoyu frowned and followed her out.
The courtyard rented by the Xing Family was already a mess.
Xing Zhong’s wife, Madam Xing, was like a maddened lioness, clawing and hitting Xing Zhong, who had just entered the door.
“You damned wretch! You still have the nerve to come back!”
“Tell me! Where did these Silver Notes come from! Did you sell something else in the house again!”
Xing Zhong was beaten, scurrying around holding his head; the few Silver Notes he clutched scattered on the ground.
His face was bruised purple in patches, and there was blood at the corner of his mouth; he looked utterly wretched.
“I didn’t! I didn’t!”
“This is… this is a Betrothal Gift!”
Madam Xing stopped, unable to believe her ears.
“A Betrothal Gift? Which blind family would take an interest in our family?”
“It’s… it’s for Yan’er…” Xing Zhong’s voice was as faint as a mosquito’s whine.
Madam Xing froze, then a spark of hope ignited in her eyes.
“For Yan’er? Which Young Master’s family? How much did they give?”
“Five… five hundred taels…”
Madam Xing gasped, then erupted in ecstasy.
“Five hundred taels! Heaven has opened its eyes! Which family? Tell me quickly!”
Xing Zhong lowered his head even further.
“It’s… it’s for her to become a concubine…”
“Slap!”
A loud slap landed squarely on Xing Zhong’s face.
Madam Xing’s eyes turned red, as if they were about to bleed.
“Become a concubine? Xing Zhong! You spineless waste! You actually sold our daughter!”
“You sold our Yan’er to be a concubine!”
She lunged at him like a madwoman, scratching deep bloody marks on his face with her nails.
“I’ll fight you to the death!”
When Xing Xiuyan rushed into the courtyard, this was the scene she witnessed.
She saw the scattered Silver Notes on the ground, the wounds on her father’s face, and her mother’s frenzied appearance.
Her heart sank instantly to the bottom.
“Father! Mother! What are you doing!”
She ran over, trying to pull apart her fighting parents.
Her mother looked at her—she had a full, oval face, and her eyes were clear and bright, untainted by a speck of worldly dust, as if she were the daughter of a Fairy who had emerged from the deep mountains.
She cried out, “Your father sold you to be a concubine!”
The Young Lady’s face drained of color, and her body trembled slightly.
Just then, the courtyard gate was pushed open from the outside.
A young Young Master, dressed in a dark cloth straight robe, entered with three other men.
His features were handsome, his demeanor steady, but his eyes were like a deep pool, so cold there was not a ripple of emotion.
The moment he appeared, the shouting and fighting in the courtyard abruptly stopped.
Madam Xing looked at him and roared at Feng Yuan like an enraged beast.
“It’s you! You damned soul! You ruined my daughter!”
Feng Yuan’s gaze swept past her and settled on Xing Xiuyan.
He saw the Young Lady’s body still trembling, yet she was trying hard to maintain her composure.
Like a stalk of Orchid Grass about to be broken by the wind and rain, yet refusing to bend.
“You are Xing Xiuyan?” he asked, his voice flat.
Xing Xiuyan looked at him but did not answer, only biting her lip tightly.
Feng Yuan took the document from Hou San’s hand.
He walked to the stone table in the courtyard, spread the document open, and weighed it down with a stone.
“Your father owes Chang Le Workshop three hundred and eighty taels of Silver.”
“I paid it off for him.”
“These five hundred taels are your Betrothal Gift.”
His words carried no emotion, as if he were stating a fact unrelated to himself.
Xing Xiuyan’s body swayed, and she gripped the doorframe to keep from falling.
She finally understood.
“Become a concubine?” she asked, her voice hoarse but exceptionally clear.
“Yes.” Feng Yuan looked at her.
Xing Xiuyan took a deep breath and slowly walked in front of him.
She neither cried nor made a scene.
She simply looked into Feng Yuan’s eyes and asked word by word.
“Young Master, my father acted foolishly; this marriage is certainly not his true intention.”
“I beg the Young Master to retract your decree. Our Xing Family will repay this Silver, even if we must work like oxen and horses in the future.”
As she spoke, she moved to kneel down.
However, Feng Yuan spoke first, interrupting her.
“Repay?”
He smiled, a hint of cruelty in his laughter.
“What will you use to repay it?”
“Do you know that when I found your father, he was being stomped on the ground by two strong men, beaten like a dog?”
“These five hundred taels are not buying you.”
He extended a finger and pointed at Xing Zhong, who was trembling nearby in fear.
“They are buying his life.”
Feng Yuan took a step forward, closing in on Xing Xiuyan.
“I ask you, your integrity, your peace—compared to your father’s life.”
“How much are they worth?”
Xing Xiuyan’s face was as white as paper.
The composure and calm she prided herself on were shattered in that moment.
She looked at the man before her.
He was clearly smiling, but that smile was colder than a knife.
His words were like an awl, piercing deeply into her heart, twisting all her dignity and pride into shreds.
Miaoyu, standing nearby, also changed expression.
She had intended to step forward and say something, but upon seeing Feng Yuan’s eyes, a chill rose from the soles of her feet, rendering her unable to utter a single word.
“I…” Xing Xiuyan’s lips trembled, unable to form a complete word.
Feng Yuan stopped looking at her.
He turned and instructed Hou San.
“Go hire a sedan chair.”
“And find two nimble Old Woman Servants to help Miss Xing pack her belongings.”
His tone suggested he was ordering the most ordinary chore.
He walked to the courtyard entrance, paused, and did not look back.
“I will give you one day.”
“Tomorrow, I do not wish to see any more tears or noise.”
“My patience is very limited.”
After speaking, he stood with his hands behind his back, gazing at the old locust tree outside the courtyard.
It was as if the Despair and collapse of the family inside the courtyard had nothing to do with him.