YCY - 5

Chapter 5: A Censer Burns Out, Another Incense Added

On the twenty-first day of the seventh month, a light drizzle brought a coolness to the air. The rain fell gently, like mist, and slanted with the wind. Ascending the steps, green moss peeked through cracks in the stone, and the vermilion gates of Tanji Temple stood solemnly before us. Outside the temple, banners fluttered in the breeze, and imperial guards in gleaming silver armor stood at attention, their horses ready for command. Inside the temple gates, a large incense burner sat in the center, surrounded by swaying bamboo and towering pines, exuding an aura of serene tranquility.

“Esteemed monk, I pay my respects to Her Grace, Consort Shu,” an elderly monk dressed in gold and red robes greeted us from the steps, his demeanor neither humble nor arrogant as he clasped his hands in a respectful bow.

“Master, we are in your care today,” Consort Shu replied softly, her figure clad in plain silk robes, nodding slightly.

Behind her, a eunuch held a pale red canopy over her head, shielding her from the rain. I clung tightly to my mother’s side, feeling the cool droplets of rain on my cheeks. Following the graceful palace maids, our group moved forward elegantly. Passing the incense burner, I looked up to see the words “Dacheng Hall” boldly inscribed on the plaque above. On the columns flanking the hall’s entrance were two lines of elegant calligraphy: The sounds of pines, bamboo, and bells—every sound is free; the colors of mountains, water, and clouds—every color is empty.

To observe freedom, to feel the falling of flowers; to perceive emptiness, to watch the rolling and unfurling of clouds—such Zen wisdom is beyond the comprehension of ordinary mortals. Kneeling on the prayer mat, I bowed three times to the Buddha—not seeking anything, but simply offering gratitude. Moving to the rear hall, I bowed again before Guanyin, gazing down upon the mortal world, praying for guidance in this life.

As I raised my head, I saw my mother’s brows furrowed in deep thought, her lips moving silently. Leaning closer, I faintly heard the words “my husband” and “my son.” Was she praying for Father and Brother? Her lips moved faster, her clasped hands trembling slightly. Her delicate face was pale, her heart heavy with sorrow.

A nearby maid in green robes glanced worriedly at Mother, then hurried to Consort Shu’s side, whispering, “Your Grace, Lady General…”

Consort Shu’s crimson lips curled into a faint smile, both amused and disdainful, her gaze cold. Raising her pale arm slightly, she said lightly, “Do not speak further. Let us see how sincerely the lady prays.”

Was she mocking us? In this Dacheng Hall, where divine eyes might watch and spirits dwell, Consort Shu’s cruelty was misplaced. Slowly, I shuffled closer, extending my small hand to grasp my mother’s fingers. She opened her eyes abruptly, tears shimmering in them, her sorrowful beauty striking.

“Qingqing,” she whispered, her voice choked with emotion.

I buried myself in her arms, murmuring softly, “Mother, what we seek cannot be attained.” The Buddha offers us the Way, the Truth, salvation, and enlightenment. Prayers for blessings are mere illusions. To cling to them is already greed, anger, and delusion—a form of attachment. And excessive attachment is to weave one’s own cocoon, a trap of worldly thoughts.

The more we seek, the farther it drifts away; the more we pursue, the less we obtain.

Mother stared at me with unfocused eyes, silent for a long moment before shaking her head and pulling me into her embrace. Her soft sigh brushed past my ear: “Yes, the more we seek, the less we gain.”

“Amitabha.” I looked up to see the white-browed monk gazing at me calmly, his voice deep and resonant. “Forgive my boldness, but may I ask the young miss her age?”

Mother dabbed at the corners of her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief and nodded slightly. “My daughter will turn six on the eighth day of next month.”

“May I humbly request to divine a fortune for the young miss?” The monk’s words caused a ripple of gasps throughout the hall.

“Didn’t Master Liaowu seal his divination tools ten years ago?” Consort Shu’s smile was sweet, but her eyes were icy.

“Amitabha.” The monk nodded toward Consort Shu, replying calmly, “Liaowu only divines for those with karmic ties.” What a noble monk, his detachment and grace earned my admiration.

Consort Shu’s beautiful eyes narrowed slightly, her lips curling in disdain. With a flick of her sleeve, she turned and left, calling out, “Hongluo, follow me!” The maid behind her hastily lowered her head and hurried after her, the palace maids trailing silently. “Prepare the prayer hall for me—I wish to pray for a child!” Her sharp command echoed through the Dacheng Hall, the atmosphere growing tense.

Mother held me tighter, her body trembling slightly. I wrapped my arms around her neck, hearing her soft whisper: “Qingqing, don’t be afraid.”

“Lady, Miss, please follow me to the Nianhua Hall.” Master Liaowu extended his right hand, leading the way.

Through winding paths lined with blossoms, the scent of sandalwood wafted gently, carrying with it a sense of Zen. Outside the window, the drizzle had just ceased, and the distant tolling of bells added to the solemnity of the moment.

“Seeking without attaining,” Master Liaowu spoke softly, his voice echoing, “the young miss has a connection with the Buddha.”

Mother set me down and responded politely, “Master, you honor us too much. Please do not take a child’s words seriously.”

“At the age of innocence, one can glimpse a lifetime.” Master Liaowu gestured for Mother to take a seat, pouring a cup of clear water into a bamboo cup. “Lady, please partake. This humble abode has no tea, but pure spring water serves as a fine drink.”

“Thank you, Master.” Mother took a sip, smiling. “What excellent water—it surpasses tea.”

“Amitabha.” The old monk turned his prayer beads slowly, smiling gently at me. “This water is not water, this life is not life. All is the Dharma, all is illusion.”

In the presence of such a wise master, why pretend to be naive or feign ignorance? Smiling brightly, I replied clearly, “The Buddha’s true intention is not for people to tirelessly pursue offerings of incense, but to help us reflect on life’s experiences and attain enlightenment, correct?”

The white-browed monk chuckled warmly, presenting a string of sandalwood prayer beads to me. “Young miss, please accept this.”

“Master, how can I possibly—” Mother quickly waved her hands in refusal.

I smiled at him and placed my hands together in a gesture of respect. “Thank you, Master. Qingqing accepts.”

“Qingqing!” Mother shot me a sharp glance.

“Lady, those with karmic ties need not refuse.” Master Liaowu placed the prayer beads in my palm and retrieved a bamboo tube of fortune sticks from a bookshelf. “Young miss, please draw.”

Smiling at him, I casually drew a stick and handed it over. Mother gripped my small hand tightly, her eyes filled with anticipation as she looked at Master Liaowu.

He nodded slightly, his expression calm. “The young miss has drawn the first stick of the eighty-one possible.” He placed the bamboo stick gently on the table, his aged eyes narrowing slightly as he spoke. “This stick is named ‘The Moon Sighs,’ and its meaning is conveyed through two lines of poetry.”

“The Moon… Sighs?” Mother’s delicate brows furrowed, her gaze worried. “Sighs?”

The old monk raised his white eyebrows slightly, reciting solemnly: “Treading frost and snow, laughing at past lives; vast seas and open skies, free to roam.” He pushed the bamboo stick toward Mother, continuing, “This is the first time I have interpreted this stick, and it shall be the last. Do not worry, Lady. The moon sighs, singing the song of mid-heaven.”

Mother relaxed her brows, murmuring, “Mid-heaven?”

“The true meaning will reveal itself in time. I can only interpret one line: Fortune in hand, misfortune turns to blessing.”

Fortune in hand can be cast aside; misfortune turning to blessing brings both joy and sorrow. The master spoke half-truths, leaving the rest unsaid. But life’s myriad flavors cannot be fully understood in a single day.

Afterward, Master Liaowu remained silent, sparing no further words. Mother led me in bidding farewell to the master, our journey back marked by quiet reflection. I gently touched Mother’s damp palm, sensing her inner turmoil. Looking back, I saw two sets of footprints—one deep, one shallow; one large, one small—left in the soft mud.

Suddenly, a wave of unease washed over me. Why?

As we approached the prayer hall, Mother’s palms grew increasingly damp. Just as we stepped inside, the maid named Hongluo stood by the door, bowing deeply. “Her Grace has retired to the rear chamber. Lady, please rest there.”

“Thank you, young lady.” Mother nodded, loosening her grip on my hand. Her body, once stiff, now moved with a softer grace.

Outside the rear corridor, a stream cascaded down the mountain, its waters splashing against rocks, creating a gentle melody. Flowers bloomed quietly in the courtyard, kissed by a cool breeze.

“Lady, please enter.” Hongluo pushed open the wooden door, and even before stepping inside, the room was filled with a subtle fragrance.

The meditation room was simple—a monk’s bed, a pomegranate wood table, and two embroidered stools. Peering out the window, I saw the lush greenery of the mountainside, fresh with rain, shrouded in mist. Hongluo glided over, closing the window, and smiled warmly at Mother. “Lady, the mountain air grows cool after the rain. The young miss is still so young—if she catches a chill at the end of summer, it would be troublesome.”

“You’ve considered everything carefully, young lady.” Mother sniffed lightly, her gaze falling on a small bronze censer atop the table. “What is this incense?”

Hongluo stepped lightly to the table, waving her hand through the faint smoke, her smile radiant. “It is a rare and exquisite incense from the west, called the Essence of All Fragrances. Even in the palace, it is seldom encountered.”

Mother leaned forward slightly, inhaling deeply. “Mm, truly a tranquil fragrance—like orchids surpassing sweet grass.”

“If Lady enjoys it, that is good. At noon, I will come to invite you and the young miss for a vegetarian meal.” Hongluo walked to the door, bowed, and closed it softly behind her. “I take my leave.”

As the sound of footsteps faded down the corridor, Mother let out a long sigh, turned to embrace me, and sat down on the monk’s bed. “Qingqing, how did you understand Master Liaowu’s Zen teachings?”

Avoiding her inquisitive gaze, I lowered my head, biting my lip and fidgeting with my fingers. “I guessed.”

“Guessed?” Mother smiled indulgently. “Qingqing, you truly are clever—your little mind is sharper than mine.” Cradling me, she rocked me gently, saying fondly, “When your father returns, I’ll have him find you a tutor. You must study more, my dear. I don’t want to hold you back.”

Resting my cheek against her soft chest, I murmured softly, “Mm, Qingqing will work hard.”

The faint aroma of the Essence of All Fragrances enveloped the meditation room, seeping into my body with each breath. A wave of drowsiness washed over me, and I yawned lazily. Mother, too, raised her embroidered handkerchief to cover her nose and mouth, her lips slightly parted, her gaze hazy.

My eyelids grew heavier, struggling to stay open, until finally they could no longer remain so. Everything around me became blurred, my senses dulled, until all I could perceive was the lingering fragrance in the room.

Wha… what is hap…pening…

After a while, the door creaked open, and four figures in green slipped inside. The tall, thin man leading them pressed his fingers against the necks of the mother and daughter, then signaled to the others with a glance. A burly man hoisted Su Jinse onto his shoulder, while a petite woman cradled Han Yuehua in her arms. Four streaks of green darted out the window, leaping across the stream and disappearing into the mountains like shadows.

Inside the room, only a wisp of incense remained; outside, the rustling of leaves echoed softly.

At the other end of the rear chambers, the vast meditation hall was filled with the sweet scent of osmanthus. “Hongluo, what time is it?” A soft, coquettish voice drifted from the reclining couch.

“Your Grace, it is already the second quarter of the morning hour.” Hongluo knelt by the couch, using a jade hammer to gently massage her mistress’s back.

The figure in plain robes shifted slightly, and Consort Shu pressed her slender fingers against her temples, her crimson nails strikingly vivid. “The incense should be burned out by now.”

“Yes, I only placed one piece.”

“The Essence of All Fragrances is a priceless treasure. They’ve certainly invested heavily this time.” Her beautiful eyes half-open, they gleamed with satisfaction. “Hongluo, move a little to the left.”

“Mm, mm.” Consort Shu hummed softly in contentment, then suddenly opened her eyes wide, a cold smirk crossing her lips. She muttered under her breath, “Hmph, the world’s matriarchs? Those with karmic ties? I’d like to see how this ends for you.”

Languidly brushing her long hair aside, she glanced at the Nine-Celery Treasure Censer by the couch and spoke softly, “Hongluo, one censer burns out, and another is lit.”