Chapter 21 Like a Dream (Part 1) A light laugh.

Before Ye Xingjian could finish speaking, a clear and melodious clapper sound suddenly came from outside the corridor.

His expression hardened, and he immediately straightened the cuffs of his robe. He ordered Zijing to take the food box back to the cell and said gently to Si Niang, "Brother cannot accompany you today. A learned scholar is giving a lecture in the prison. Judging from the increasingly urgent sound of the clapper, he must have arrived at the Yilun Hall. Brother must go there immediately. You should go back to the mansion first. I will tell you the details when I return home after a few days' leave."

Ye Mu nodded obediently, but she couldn't wait for the ten-day holiday. As soon as she got home, she went straight to her mother's courtyard to find out what was going on.

“A month ago, your second aunt happened to see Master Wenkong enter the side gate of the Xie residence on Zhuque Street. She was surprised and asked him a few questions. Who knew that she would find out that this young master was not an ordinary monk, but the young master born to Ninth Madam of the Xie family.”

As Liu was checking the list, she pulled her to sit down beside her. "What kind of family is the Xie family? A distinguished and noble family for generations. Even if their young master were to cultivate, there would be no reason for him to frequently enter and leave other people's homes as a female servant. When the old lady found out, she immediately ordered that this course be canceled."

"But the Xie family is a prominent family, why would they send their own eldest son to a temple to become a monk?" Ye Mu exclaimed in astonishment, her almond-shaped eyes wide open. "Moreover, Mother, I've also seen several scars on the inside of Master Wen Kong's wrists. How could someone from such a noble family suffer such injuries? Besides, he always wears the same two monk's robes, which are neither new nor old..."

The more she thought about it, the more suspicious she became. "Could it be that my second aunt has mistaken me for someone else?"

"How could that be?" Madam Liu sighed softly. "When the old lady first heard it, she didn't believe it either. She specially sent a reliable person to inquire carefully at the residences that the Xie family knew. Master Wen Kong is indeed the eldest son of the Ninth Master of the Xie family. A few days ago, the old lady of the Xie family passed away. When the family held a memorial service, he was dressed in plain clothes and performed the rites in front of the coffin. Your aunt saw it with her own eyes, so there is no mistake."

When Liu mentioned this, he suddenly realized and said, "Now that I think about it, it makes sense that he was able to obtain the original calligraphy of Zen Master Sili."

"But why exactly was he sent to the temple to cultivate?" Ye Mu still wouldn't let go of this question.

Madam Liu shook her head. "How could outsiders easily understand the grudges and entanglements within the compound? Moreover, the law stipulates that one cannot be ordained while one's parents are alive. There must be some unavoidable hidden reason, or perhaps it is a special decree from the Emperor. There must be a compelling reason why he was able to go to the temple."

What were the most desperate circumstances that would lead to sending a young nobleman to a temple to cultivate? She thought of Wen Kong's overly calm eyes, and the old scars that were faintly visible on his wrists when he occasionally rolled up his sleeves, and Ye Mu felt a tightness in her chest.

I recall when he first arrived to teach, he was a month late, only saying casually, "I've gone home." Now, thinking back, in the entire Xie mansion, didn't anyone notice that his monk's robes didn't fit? Did no one care whether he was warm enough and well-fed?

That's ridiculous.

Ye Mu stepped out of the room in a daze, her steps unsteady, still immersed in the shock brought by Wen Kong's background. Unexpectedly, Liu's voice rang out from behind her, abruptly pulling her back from her chaotic thoughts.

"Fourth Sister, wait a minute."

Ye Mu turned around.

"There's something I've had a long-standing doubt about," Liu said as she slowly approached. "On the day of the Dragon Boat Festival, you mentioned to your second aunt that your father had gone to Xishanyu last summer. I thought I was mistaken, as I remembered that he went to Tianmashan. But afterward, I asked your father to confirm, and he said that he had never been to Xishanyu."

Liu stopped in front of her, her gaze probing, "Fourth Sister, you stayed at home all last year, how did you know that Xishan Valley suffered a severe drought last year?"

Ye Mu's heart sank suddenly, and he knew something was wrong.

She thought the matter was long gone, but she never expected her mother to be so meticulous and bring it up again after many days.

As for why Ye Mu knew about the drought in Xishan Valley, the root of the problem lies with Jiang Si from his previous life, who was a native of Xishan Valley.

Whenever she had a disagreement with her mother-in-law, her mother-in-law would burst into tears, saying, "It's all because of that terrible drought in the fifth year of Kangding! The rice harvest failed completely. To make a living, my father had to brave the scorching sun to find water, but he fell ill and passed away early, leaving me alone in this world to be despised by others."

These words, repeated over the years, have long been deeply etched into Ye Mu's memory like a brand, making her intimately familiar with that drought in a distant land as if she had experienced it herself.

But how could he tell his mother the truth now?

I can't very well tell my mother that she used to have a mother-in-law, can I?

"My master told me," Ye Mu said, quick-wittedly.

"Wen Kong?"

"Yes." Ye Mu steadied himself. Since he wouldn't come again, his mother wouldn't go to the temple to ask him for confirmation. "Master said that last summer he went with the monks to Xishanyu to perform several Buddhist ceremonies, all to help the souls of the dead who had died due to the epidemic caused by the drought. He saw the fields cracked and the people suffering, and he was quite saddened by what he said."

She glanced up at her mother's expression and added, "He told me all these things. Otherwise, how would a seven-year-old like me know so many profound words?"

After careful consideration, Madam Liu realized that Fourth Sister's words made sense. No matter how precocious the child was, she was still only a seven-year-old child who lived in the inner quarters all day. How could she understand such difficult words? If she hadn't heard it from someone, how could she know so much about the disaster in Xishan Valley? It must have been something that the young Master Wen Kong had seen with his own eyes when he was traveling around and told her about it in casual conversation.

"Then why did you lie?"

Ye Mu said, "I didn't dare to speak frankly at the time because I thought that my master was still young. If I said that it was his words, I was afraid that my second aunt would think that I was too gullible and would make a fuss about it."

Mrs. Liu patted her daughter on the shoulder, letting the matter drop. "I see. If you hear anything else in the future, just say it. There's no need to worry."

Ye Mu responded softly and ran out the door, but he still felt uneasy because of Wen Kong's matter. When the frost fell, the old lady felt a little better and had the idea of ​​going to Baoxiang Temple to offer incense and fulfill her vow. Ye Mu immediately volunteered to accompany her and serve her.

On the day of her departure, she held tightly to a blue cloth bundle that she had prepared in advance. Inside were two sets of newly bought cotton-padded clothes. She had specially chosen soft Songjiang cloth and asked the shopkeeper to make the cotton batting evenly. She also instructed the shopkeeper to secretly add half an ounce more cotton batting to the shoulders, back, elbows, and knees, which are prone to wind and cold.

Baoxiang Temple was much the same as I remembered from my previous life, with its red walls and black tiles, and the elegant temple bells.

Ye Mu patiently followed her grandmother as she burned incense and prayed in the main hall. After all the rites were completed, the old lady was invited by the abbot to the meditation room for tea. Taking advantage of a moment, Ye Mu took her bundle from the carriage and quietly followed the path she remembered to the monks' quarters in the back courtyard.

Unexpectedly, Wen Kong was not in the usual monks' quarters. When asked, the novice monk who was sweeping the temple pointed to the northwest corner of the temple and said, "He lives next to the woodshed."

Ye Mu followed the direction, and the more he walked, the more desolate it became. The bluestone path was gradually replaced by an earthen path, and the grass and trees on both sides were untrimmed, showing a somewhat sparse appearance. Finally, next to the woodshed, he saw a lonely, low mud-brick hut, which looked not much better than the place where the firewood was piled up next to it.

The door to the small house was locked, but it made little difference whether it was locked or not. The window paper had several large holes, and cold wind was pouring in. Ye Mu stood on tiptoe and looked inside. The scene inside was completely clear: the walls were desolate, the plaster was peeling off, there was a plank bed against the wall, a broken cabinet, and a crooked wooden table, and nothing else.

What brings you here?

Ye Mu turned around upon hearing the sound, and saw Wen Kong carrying a bucket of water steadily walking towards him. He was still wearing that faded gray monk's robe, with several dark patches on the shoulders. Although it was old, it was washed clean.

He's still the same as always.

He silently put down the bucket, took out his key, and opened the door. The scene inside was even more desolate than what he had seen through the window; there wasn't even a chair.

Ye Mu stood at the door, hesitated for a moment, and then followed her in with her bundle. But the small space felt even more cramped inside. She stood in the middle of the room, not knowing where to put her hands and feet.

"Please sit here."

Wen Kong walked to the bedside, unfolded the neatly folded thin old quilt, and spread it on the bare bed. Seeing that she was still standing there in a daze, he paused slightly and said in a low voice, "When the weather is nice, I take it out to air it."

Ye Mu was taken aback for a moment, then quickly sat down. "Master, I don't mind that it's dirty."

The room was dimly lit. Wen Kong walked to the small, chipped cabinet by the couch, opened the cabinet door, took out half a candle, and lit it with the tinderbox still burning on the table.

The candlelight flickered, dispelling some of the darkness.

Ye Mu glanced at the cabinet. There wasn't much room inside to begin with. There were a few monk's robes folded up, two rough earthenware bowls stacked on top of each other, and the rest was crammed full of books.

When he taught her to write, was the porcelain bowl he used bought separately? Ye Mu felt bad for his embarrassment. "Master, there's no need to light candles. I'll leave after delivering the things and won't bother you any longer."

She said she was leaving, but her body didn't move. She clutched the bundle tightly to her chest, her fingertips unconsciously picking at the edges of the cloth. In truth, her heart was full of words, like bubbles rising in a pond, one after another, gurgling and bubbling upwards, densely packed and stuck in her throat. But when she looked up, all her questions were frozen by the cold air filling the room, shattering silently one by one, ultimately turning into silence, silence.

"What did you come to deliver?" Wen Kong asked, noticing that she had been frowning and hadn't spoken.

"Oh, oh." Ye Mu seemed to be startled awake, hurriedly responding and frantically unpacking the bundle. "There are two cotton-padded coats, very thick, you can wear them when winter comes. Master, why don't you try them on to see if they fit?"

"No need, take it back."

"Why? No," Ye Mu stubbornly looked at him, "I can see clearly in your closet, there are no winter clothes at all."

"The temple has its own system of allowances." Wen Kong had nowhere to sit, so he leaned against the table, the dim light casting a long shadow of his thin figure.

"I don't believe it. Do you think you'll get a share? I think everyone in this temple will bully you."

Wen Kong did not answer, and fell silent again.

Perhaps feeling too embarrassed, Wen Kong's gaze shifted slightly, landing on the bundle she had brought, and he suddenly said out of the blue, "I thought you came to hand in the characters you've been practicing recently."

"I haven't had the time to write lately," Ye Mu said, turning his head away, his tone somewhat defiant.

"What about the punishment of copying lines?"

"Didn't you say you weren't going to teach me anymore?" Ye Mu sat on the couch, a chill gradually seeping up from the wooden plank. She couldn't help but shrank her shoulders, looking up at him. "Then why do you care whether I've written it or not?"

"So it was because of this matter that you were angry with me." He chuckled.

A note from the author:

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