Chapter Fifty-Five: Ma Xiaolian's Malicious Schemes, Zhao Jiaoniang Recounts the Past

Be warned not to indulge in wine and women; craving such pleasures often brings ruin to a household. Many a disaster has begun with drunkenness and a wandering heart, as lechery and unbridled desire only invite calamity.

“What is this?” Song Mo’s gaze fell upon the wretched pair before him. Though disgusted, he could not help but feel a surge of anger.

These two were by no means upstanding or virtuous, yet they were still human beings who ate the food of the land and spoke like other men. To be treated in such a manner by the Mountain Court—Song Mo’s expression darkened.

Tang Yi’s face, too, was unsettled, for such punishment was a grave affront to human dignity.

Shu Mingli looked with evident disdain at Ma Xiaolian and Zhang Shanshui, who were trussed up like slaughtered pigs. With a cold snort, he said, “This is retribution—just desserts for these two wretches. Were it not for my daughter’s kindness, I would have killed the adulterous pair myself.”

Hearing this, Song Mo and Tang Yi sensed there was more to the story.

Sure enough, before they could inquire further, Shu Mingli explained as he strode ahead, “The two of them plotted together for the Zhang family fortune. Seeing that Zhang Changlin intended to pass the family headship to his only grandson, Zhang Xiaoguang, they devised a vile scheme: Ma Xiaolian was to seduce Zhang Xiaoguang, leading him astray and committing a grave breach of propriety, so that they might seize the position for themselves.”

Song Mo and Tang Yi listened in shock. What kind of man was this Zhang Shanshui? He was nothing but a living caricature of a cuckold!

Song Mo could only marvel at the depravity of humankind—never before had he seen a man send his own wife to seduce his nephew.

“Did they succeed?” Song Mo could not help but gossip.

Shu Mingli shook his head and revealed an even more appalling truth.

It turned out that while Ma Xiaolian outwardly agreed to Zhang Shanshui’s plan, she harbored secret intentions of her own. Once the leading courtesan of the pleasure quarters, she had known countless men. She understood that Zhang Shanshui was nothing but a petty, scheming man. Even if their plot succeeded and Zhang Xiaoguang was toppled, Zhang Changlin, shrewd as he was, would never favor a man like Zhang Shanshui. Thus, Ma Xiaolian devised a new plan.

Noting Zhang Xiaoguang’s good looks and his recent triumph in the county examination—clearly, a promising future awaited him—she decided to turn pretense into reality. If she, the aunt, could ensnare her nephew and bear his child, Zhang Changlin, however reluctant, would be forced to cover up the scandal. She would then cast aside Zhang Shanshui, become the young mistress of the Zhang family, and rise to fortune in the blink of an eye.

However, Zhang Xiaoguang’s heart belonged solely to Zhao Yueshu; he ignored the advances of his aunt completely. With her usual tricks failing, Ma Xiaolian resorted to the methods of the pleasure houses, dosing both herself and Zhang Xiaoguang with an aphrodisiac.

Fortunately, the Shadow Spirit—known to Shu Mingli as Young Master Xiaoshan—happened to abduct the Zhang family at that crucial moment, preventing an even greater catastrophe.

After hearing all this, Song Mo and Tang Yi had nothing more to say. Some people, it seemed, were doomed by fate; who were they to intervene?

The two followed the Golden and Silver Children and Shu Mingli into a courtyard at the rear. Shu Mingli knocked on the door and announced, “Jiaoniang, the guests have arrived.”

“Thank you, Uncle Shu. Please bring them in; I cannot leave at the moment,” came a woman's calm and gentle voice from within.

“You may go play now, but do not upset Young Master Xiaoshan,” Shu Mingli said, producing two sticks of candied hawthorn as if by magic. The Golden and Silver Children broke into childlike grins, took the treats, and ran off in delight. As he left, Silver stuck his tongue out at Song Mo.

It was only then that Song Mo realized the Golden and Silver Children had become indistinguishable from ordinary children; their previous appearances must have been meant only to tease him. In truth, they had not wished to frighten him—merely to play.

Shu Mingli pushed open the door to reveal a young lady’s bedchamber.

Song Mo entered and glanced around. The room’s tables and chairs were carved of the finest sandalwood, each etched with delicate patterns, exuding the gentle elegance of a maiden’s touch. On the table lay a pale silk scroll, a fine inkstone, and several brushes in a holder. By the window, a porcelain pot held a blooming pearl plum. In one corner stood a dressing table, adorned with a brocade-covered bronze mirror, a red lacquered jewelry box carved with plum blossoms, an ornate phoenix coronet inlaid with gold and jewels, and a rare string of reversed prayer beads.

Fine beaded curtains of yingshuang tinkled softly, and the subtle scent of sandalwood filled the air. On the sandalwood canopy bed hung pale purple gauze drapes, exquisitely decorated. A guqin stood in the corner. On the bed, atop neatly folded silk quilts, lay one person; another stood beside the bed.

The one lying down was Zhang Xiaoguang.

The one standing was Zhao Yueshu.

“Jiaoniang?” Shu Mingli called softly.

Jiaoniang—Zhao Yueshu—tucked in the quilt around Zhang Xiaoguang before turning around.

Her beauty was understated, her figure tall and graceful. She wore a blue tunic embroidered with flying bats and auspicious clouds, her waist cinched with a rhinoceros horn belt to which hung a solitary white jade pendant. Draped in a white cloak, she was purity itself.

“It’s her!” Song Mo started inwardly. Zhao Yueshu was just as she had appeared in the fleeting visions of the dead.

But now she was devoid of all seductive charm, pure and unsullied as a lotus rising from the mud.

“My husband has just recovered from the effects of the drug. Let us go outside to speak,” Zhao Yueshu said softly, demure as a sheltered maiden.

Tang Yi nodded, and the group left for the garden pavilion.

Shu Mingli went to brew tea. The garden was filled with exotic flowers and rare herbs, and above, a full moon cast its gentle light across the ground. Perhaps it was the autumn air, but the night still felt young.

Not only Song Mo, but even Tang Yi could not help but marvel at the sorcery—here, even the moonlight could be conjured. Such skill was truly remarkable.

Noticing their wonder, Zhao Yueshu pointed at the moon and explained, “All the illusions here in the Mountain Court were left by my late father. My brother and I merely take shelter within them.”

At that moment, Shu Mingli returned with the tea.

“We have little to offer in these wilds, but this flower tea is the very best,” Zhao Yueshu said, rising to pour tea for Song Mo and Tang Yi herself.

Her manners were flawless, rivaling those of any noble lady.

Tang Yi sipped the tea lightly; its fragrance lingered on his lips and teeth.

“The guests have arrived, and the tea has been served. Should we not discuss what truly brought us here?” Tang Yi set down his cup and fixed his gaze on Zhao Yueshu.

Song Mo, however, held onto his cup. Such fragrant flower tea could scarcely be found even in the most renowned pleasure houses.

Zhao Yueshu pressed her lips together, a trace of sorrow flickering in her eyes.

“Since I have invited you both here, I will not keep anything hidden. My brother and I have borne this burden for over a century—it is time the truth was revealed.” Her voice was gentle as a mountain spring, tender but not seductive.

Song Mo and Tang Yi exchanged a glance, understanding each other perfectly.

Indeed, as they had suspected, there was more to this story.

Zhao Yueshu looked to Shu Mingli, who nodded with quiet sorrow.

At last, Zhao Yueshu began, “To understand this matter, we must go back more than a hundred years, to my late father, Lord of the Mountain…”