#89: Zhou and the Butterfly (III)

◎Past Life · Final Revisit◎

After the drowning incident, Qu You developed amnesia.

At that time, Qu Cheng was still in prison, so they didn’t make a big fuss about calling a doctor. Although Yin Xiangru noticed that her daughter had forgotten many things, she seemed fine—perhaps even more cheerful than before—and thus didn’t worry too much.

Moreover, her daughter had seemingly grown up overnight, taking charge of household affairs for her. This gave Yin Xiangru some much-needed respite from worrying about the livelihood of everyone in the household.

Until the imperial decree arrived, betrothing Qu You to the recently assassinated Ministry of Justice vice-minister.

Initially, Yin Xiangru nearly cried herself blind over this marriage arrangement, only for Qu You to comfort her, explaining that the marriage was merely a temporary measure to save her father. If she didn’t like it, she would have other things to do after marriage.

If she could be at peace with it, then all was well.

After the wedding, the severely injured vice-minister miraculously recovered and even came with Qu You to pay a visit.

She found her son-in-law, though aloof, gentle, elegant, and dignified, thinking the match wasn’t bad.

Qu Cheng, however, disapproved, often sighing and grumbling, muttering words about the man being disloyal and unfilial.

A villain is a villain… as long as he treats her daughter well, she didn’t really care if he was a villain or not.

The concerns of women in the inner chambers are few, unable to encompass the nation and the world, the grand principles of the Spring and Autumn period. They only hope for their small plot of land to be peaceful and trouble-free.

However, later on, her usually gentle and timid daughter caused several major incidents with that vice-minister in Bian Capital.

First, under the gaze of the public on Yujie Street, Qu You read out a petition word by word for a courtesan.

Qu Xiangwen, Qu Jiaxi, and Qu Jiayu were very admiring, chattering excitedly about the scene that day. She pressed her chest, reciting several prayers.

Later, that Vice-Minister Zhou somehow got entangled in a case involving the current prime minister and almost died in the palace. Qu You beat the drum for grievances a second time, anxiously pleading for her husband’s innocence, even willing to sever ties with her family to live and die with him.

Qu Cheng carefully supported her arm, not daring to step forward, and could only urge, “... If Lord Zhou doesn’t overturn the case today, how will she continue to live in Bian Capital!”

She clutched her husband’s sleeve, feeling strangely alienated from her daughter, yet simultaneously believing this was how she should be. The previous dozen years had been a suppression of her true self.

Now, she also had someone she was willing to protect without regard for safety or reputation.

Very good.

She faintly recalled when Qu You was young, and she first took the little girl to Xiugqing Temple to have a master consecrate her jade. The master didn’t take her jade but said, “Your daughter has a karmic relationship from a past life, a person deeply blessed by fortune.”

She firmly believed it, asking what this relationship would be like and when it would come.

The master smiled without answering, saying only that heavenly secrets couldn’t be revealed, suggesting she change her daughter’s name.

The master personally wrote the character “悠” (Yōu) and presented it: “Pass this on for her. After changing to this name, your daughter won’t be so frail and sickly anymore.”

Following the master’s instructions, she changed her daughter’s name from “Jia Yi” to the single character “Yōu.”

From then on, Qu You’s health improved day by day. After a few years, she could even ride horses and shoot arrows.

The masters of Xiugqing Temple never lied. Yin Xiangru watched her daughter at the drumming stone, lost in thought, thinking she had probably found the person with whom she had a karmic connection.

Before leaving the capital with her husband, Qu You secretly paid a visit, drinking the tea that Zhou Tan had promised long ago.

It was only two years later that she saw the two of them again.

The crown prince stirred up trouble, and the atmosphere in the imperial city became tense. After Qu You arrived and spoke a few words, Qu Cheng interrupted her with deep reticence, packed their belongings, and left the city with her that night, returning to Lin’an.

Qu You stood on the high city walls, watching the solitary lamp on her parents’ carriage gradually merge into the dark night until it disappeared from sight.

In her heart, she wondered if they would ever meet again.

She originally intended to escape the imperial city with Ye Liuchun, but she didn’t manage to board the large ship. She could only lie on the ground, helplessly watching the ship disappear into the mist.

The crown prince captured her and threw her into the Ministry of Justice prison.

She endured numerous tortures in prison.

The crown prince forbade her death. When she was near death after severe torture, he even sent a physician to treat her. Before leaving, the physician told her with great pity that she would definitely not be able to bear children afterward.

Fortunately, she didn’t care.

But at night, she still had chaotic and bewildering dreams. In her dreams, she saw everything from her previous two lives and remembered who she was.

It turned out that the original owner of this body, who had troubled her for so long, was herself.

She was A Lian, who once knelt humbly by the corridor, hoping for the snow to stop.

She was also Qu You, who yearned for freedom all her life but never saw it, making a wish before death to witness Zhou Tan’s future.

The gods heard her prayers and fulfilled her wishes.

But the love of the divine encompasses all beings without saving any.

The torrent of history didn’t change due to her prayers. Her wishes were cast into the rolling river, creating a splash, causing a fleeting ripple, only to be swallowed again by towering waves.

Everything she could change existed only in the gaps of history, unrecorded in historical books.

She couldn’t change her early demise, nor could she alter Zhou Tan’s future and reputation.

Wasn’t this a big joke?

Opening her eyes, she felt utterly despondent.

When the deposed crown prince dragged her to the city wall to threaten Zhou Tan into retreating, through the thousands of troops and thick smoke, she saw a tear fall heavily from Zhou Tan’s face.

She suddenly wanted to wipe away his tears.

And indeed, she did just that.

Song Shiyan cried out behind her, his voice heart-wrenching as he called her name: “Yoyo!!”

This aloof and violent ruler had grown deeply attached to her vibrant life from a thousand years in the future. Perhaps it was an instinct born of being trapped within the feudal power structure, yearning for liberation.

But her freedom came entirely from Zhou Tan’s prayers and gifts.

So she leapt off the city wall, wanting to be closer to him.

Arrows whizzed past her head, slicing through the dim yellow sky.

Zhou Tan galloped on horseback, watching helplessly as she plummeted before him, shattering into countless fragile yet fragrant pieces.

He tumbled off his horse, utterly disoriented, almost afraid to touch her blood-soaked body.

“Don’t make decisions… because of me.”

Her words were labored, tears streaming down her face. “Don’t abandon your health, your ideals, or even your enemies because of me… Through lifetimes, you’ve done so much for me, but I…”

Zhou Tan cradled her limp, broken body.

“But I couldn’t do anything… I couldn’t change the course of this vast river of history… I could never save you, Xiaobai—”

The white jade thumb ring pressed sharply into both their palms.

Zhou Tan rested his forehead against hers, as if deaf to the sounds of battle and slaughter behind him. “… It is my fault that I couldn’t save you.”

Qu You ignored everything else, continuing weakly, “I regret it now. I shouldn’t have made such a greedy wish… All I want is for you to live long and well, to become the immortal snow of Mount Kunlun renowned in history, whether… with or without me.”

“How can I live long without you?” A faint, self-deprecating smile flickered across Zhou Tan’s face, tinged with desperation. “You drafted those proposed amendments to the penal code with me. I haven’t even had the chance to implement them yet… Didn’t you say the Da Yin criminal laws were incomplete, that we’d change all of this together? Now, with our mission unfinished, how can you leave me like this?”

“Don’t let history remember my name…” She felt her life slipping away bit by bit, using her last ounce of strength to plead. “Please… perhaps I’ll have another chance…”

She didn’t finish her sentence.

Everything carved into history could not be changed. Could the penal codes she drafted endure? If her name wasn’t recorded… perhaps there would still be room within the cracks of history.

In the first year of Chongjing, Emperor Ming ascended the throne, and 25-year-old Zhou Tan entered the Hall of State Affairs as a senior minister.

Powerful and influential, many among the old nobility harbored intentions toward him, but no one dared approach him about marriage.

Everyone knew that the wife who shared his harmonious life had perished during the palace coup years ago.

On the day of his appointment as chancellor, he adjusted his attire in front of a bronze mirror.

The night before, he had dreamt of Qu You again, along with fragmented memories of their lives. Some parts he remembered, others he didn’t—but none of it felt unfamiliar.

Spreading ink and brush, he intended to write her a letter to burn, telling her that he was living well as she wished. But often, without her light to guide him through the dark nights, he felt he couldn’t go on.

He began writing only three characters—”Morning Dao”—before a sharp pain in his chest stopped him.

Qu You thought his greatest concern in this world was his ideals. But she didn’t know that he yearned to live and die alongside her. After her death, he had contemplated leaving the world many times, only persisting because of her final instructions to him.

With no will to survive, perhaps his aging, diseased body could serve as a stepping stone—a pile of bones—for their shared ideals.

Facing the bronze mirror, Zhou Tan suddenly made a decision.

The dream ended abruptly.

Qu You opened her eyes once more, seeing the tiny prison window that allowed only a sliver of light to enter.

She thought she had awakened, but she hadn’t.

She transformed once again into Zhuangzi’s butterfly.

Only this time, she felt herself arriving at reality.

The wind carried her out through the small window, flying toward distant green mountains and rivers.

The landscape suddenly shifted, and she found herself sitting at the coffee table in her modern-day home, which she hadn’t seen in so long. Her mother, wearing glasses, sat with her on the carpet.

Why had she never noticed before that her mother always resembled Yin Xiangru?

Her mother frowned and asked, “What do you plan to study for your graduate degree?”

She heard herself blurt out, “History.”

“I want to delve into history, to uncover its truths.”

The scene shifted again. She found herself back at her usual seat in the library, ancient texts spread open before her, dust swirling in the sunlight.

She first saw the three characters “Xue Hua Ling” (削花令), and an indescribable sense of fate seized her. Enchanted, she read for hours. Just before closing the book, she spotted the familiar yet strange name “Zhou Tan.”

Qu You decided to investigate this man and his connection to Xue Hua Ling .

She became absorbed in reading his poetry collection, loving every poem and memorizing them instantly, as though she had read them many lifetimes ago.

Her professor enthusiastically lectured about Su Chaoci on the podium: “… In Su Zai Fu’s collected works, there’s a record of something. He once asked an old acquaintance—someone deeply, complexly, and tenderly in love with his wife—why humans can form such profound bonds with another person.”

“This acquaintance replied with a line from Zhuangzi: ‘After ten thousand years, one might encounter a sage who understands; such a meeting is as rare as dawn and dusk.’ This comes from Qi Wu Lun , meaning…”

The voice gradually faded away.

The master at Xiugqing Temple spoke gently: “… I am delivering this character ‘Yōu’ on someone’s behalf.”

After changing her name, her frailty gradually healed.

Far away in Lin’an, Zhou Tan began falling ill. Once a youth who could wield a sword and ride horses with his mother, he slowly lost the ability to practice martial arts.

She knew this was Zhou Tan’s wish for her.

“I am willing to bear illness on your behalf…”

Qu You lowered her head and realized she had somehow changed into an ancient-style peach-colored robe, holding a flower fortune slip.

A beautiful maiden’s hand reached out to take the slip from her, reading aloud: “When autumn comes on the ninth day of the ninth month, after my flowers bloom, all other flowers will wither… Oh dear, Yoyo drew the wrong slip. This one speaks of stern integrity and heavy slaughter—not suited for us delicate ladies…”

Qu You looked at Gao Yunyue’s face and smiled faintly.

“There will be a chance,” Gao Yunyue said confidently. “Let’s make a bet—I’ll wager these precious chrysanthemums in my garden. Don’t forget to invite me to your autumn banquet.”

Gao Yunyue readily agreed: “It’s a deal. If I don’t see what I expect, I won’t invite you to admire my flowers.”

Not long after parting, Qu Cheng was imprisoned. She managed household affairs alongside Qu Xiangwen, going to the apothecary to buy medicine.

A young doctor happened to glance at their prescription and immediately exclaimed, “Old Yu, this formula has issues…”

Qu You turned her head slowly, her gaze falling on the young doctor examining the prescription. His face overlapped with the compassionate physician who had sighed in Prince Song’s dungeon.

Thus, she said to Bai Ying, “Have we met somewhere before?”

Bai Ying scratched his head and laughed. “I used to wander the streets to make a living. If you’ve seen me, it wouldn’t be surprising.”

…

Finally, she saw a hazy rain.

A frail, white-robed villain sat beneath an apricot tree tied with red silk, clutching the white jade thumb ring and coughing into a handkerchief.

It seemed he saw her beneath the apricot blossoms, knowing she wasn’t real. His gaze lingered affectionately, but he didn’t approach.

“If there’s a next life…”

She suddenly anticipated what he was about to say.

“Don’t say it!”

Qu You recalled belatedly that although Xue Hua Ling had erased her name, those legal articles, clearly ahead of their time, had still been passed down. The moment she saw them, she felt a deep connection—they were her mark left behind.

She wouldn’t despair anymore because she still had a chance to change everything!

“Don’t make any wishes… Wait for me, wait for me to return. I’ll find a way to restore the fairness you deserve.”

“I’m willing to exhaust myself for you until my dying breath… As long as, in the annals of history, you are with me.”

Zhou Tan seemed to sense something and lowered his hand without finishing his sentence.

The apricot blossoms trembled and fell at the sound of her raised voice.

The dream sank deeper and deeper until she awoke, drenched in sweat.

The prison door was violently pushed open, and Song Shiyan appeared before her, his hair disheveled, his expression dark.

This time, she wasn’t dreaming.