Chapter 60 The Lament of a Passionate Woman (Part 10) Does he know... your true identity as a woman...?
"Hey, young friend, don't be in a hurry. Let this old man prepare." The storyteller walked up to the platform, took a white silk handkerchief and carefully wiped his fingertips. Then he took the hot tea handed to him by the shopkeeper, lifted the lid and brought it to his lips to take a sip.
Once everything was in order, he picked up the eye-catching item on the table, tapped it three times, and began the story: "Dear readers, let's pick up where we left off!"
Song Qiling raised her eyebrows slightly and listened intently.
"Last time we talked about the princess, who was born into a wealthy family. After marrying into the prince consort's mansion, it should have been a happy marriage. Who would have thought that the prince consort would neglect his beloved and favor his concubines? The princess was left alone in the Wutong Garden, day after day, like a living dead person in the deep palace."
The storyteller raised his hand and shook his long sleeves, and a "whooshing" sound could be heard from the two cuffs, as if a cold wind was passing through a narrow alley, adding a touch of desolation.
Those in the audience immediately perked up, pointing at the stage and whispering, "This is the storyteller's ultimate skill, the yin-yang wind sound hidden in his sleeve."
Then the storyteller smoothed out the wrinkles in his sleeves, raised his index finger and tapped the table lightly. His deep voice made the audience straighten their backs and prick up their ears.
"Now, on this day, which was the Lantern Festival, the Prince Consort's mansion was decorated with lanterns and a grand banquet was held. All the princes, nobles and dignitaries gathered together to drink and admire the lanterns, making it a very lively occasion. The Prince Consort was drinking heartily and joking with his beloved concubine, completely ignoring the desolate state of his wife in the Wutong Garden."
After several rounds of drinks and dishes, the prince consort was completely drunk and staggering. His beloved concubine, laughing sweetly, helped him back to his room to rest. Everyone who saw this envied the prince consort's good fortune with women, but who would have thought...
The storyteller struck again with the gavel, raising his voice, "But little did he know that disaster was imminent, and a vengeful ghost was at his door! In the dead of night, the prince consort was suddenly awakened by the piercing cry of a baby. The cry was exceptionally mournful, seemingly both near and far, piercing straight to the heart. The prince consort was instantly terrified, his three souls trembling and his seven spirits fluttering, all his drunkenness vanished. When he opened his eyes and saw..."
The storyteller abruptly stopped, his eyes widening as if he had seen something terrifying, his voice trembling, "Guess what? The woman lying beside him isn't some beautiful concubine, but clearly the princess he's neglected for so long!"
Another "whooshing" sound followed. The storyteller waved his long sleeves, picked up his gavel, and slammed it on the table, startling the audience in the front row.
"Her face was gaunt, her eyes sunken, yet she gave the prince consort a chilling smile. Even more horrifying, she was holding a swaddled baby in her arms, and the heart-wrenching cries were coming from inside!"
The storyteller's breathing became more and more rapid. "The princess slowly lifted the swaddling clothes, revealing what was inside. Good heavens! It was not an infant at all, but a small, charred skeleton! The eye sockets of the skull were even flashing with a ghostly green light, and the jawbone was opening and closing, emitting bursts of cries!"
Upon seeing this, the prince consort was terrified, let out a scream, and went mad!
With a heavy thud of the gavel, the storyteller sighed and said, "Truly, the heartless will be punished, and the vengeful spirit will come to claim my life!"
"The Master did not speak of strange phenomena, physical prowess, disorder, or spirits. How come this is just a ghost story?" Someone below complained, "Where do demons and ghosts come from in this world? Storyteller, this story must be fake!"
The other person laughed and said, "Does it really matter whether it's true or false? It's just a story, why are you investigating it so much?"
It was broad daylight, so hearing ghost stories didn't scare anyone. Everyone chatted and laughed, and decided to let the matter drop.
“But I’ve heard that Princess Zhaoyi, the younger sister of the Prince of Nancheng, has been estranged from her husband for many years. They did have a daughter, but she was frail from a young age and died young.” A voice suddenly whispered in a corner of the teahouse.
Upon hearing this, the teahouse fell silent. Then, someone turned around and whispered, "How dare we commoners make such a fuss about royalty? If you want to live, don't mention this again!"
Song Qiling sensed something amiss. Seeing the person who had been reprimanded slink away from his seat, she paid for her tea and followed him.
The crisp sound of the gavel was left behind. Song Qiling followed the man through a small alley and arrived at a wonton stall. Just as she was hesitating about how to start a conversation, she saw the man holding a bowl of steaming wontons turn around and meet her face.
"Why are you following me?" The man was not tall, with a fair face and a pair of dark eyes the size of copper coins looking at her timidly. "You're not going to arrest me and take me to the authorities, are you?"
The savory aroma of wontons wafted onto the face, adding a touch of pitiful moisture to the eyes.
Song Qiling choked for a moment, then chuckled and said, "No, it was my presumption that led me here. I just wanted to hear you tell me the secret story of the princess and her husband."
"You still say it's not to catch me." The man held the porcelain bowl, hesitated for a moment between eating and running away, and finally chose an empty seat next to the stall. He sighed softly and said, "Sit down, let's eat and talk."
I sat down and saw the man opposite me pull out a pair of chopsticks from the chopstick holder and start slurping up the soup noodles.
Song Qiling placed her hands on her knees, awkwardly clutching her clothes, and tentatively asked, "Is the princess you mentioned really the younger sister of the Prince of Nancheng?"
“Yes.” The man nodded, puffing out his cheeks. “My uncle worked in the kitchen of the Prince’s mansion for more than ten years. This news has spread throughout the mansion and cannot be faked.”
This person is quite honest.
"Then, then..." Song Qiling asked again, "Does your uncle know where Princess Zhaoyi's residence is now?"
A pair of dark eyes peered panicked down from the top of the bowl of noodles. The man's lips trembled, and he mumbled, "Why are you asking this? Who exactly are you?"
Why are you asking where his residence is all of a sudden? Are you suggesting we go and complain about him?
Song Qiling quickly replied, "I was just curious and asked casually."
Hearing this, the man breathed a sigh of relief and continued eating his soup noodles. After finishing a bowl of wontons, he wiped his lips, looked up at the other side, and said, "The Prince Consort's mansion has long since turned to ashes and no longer exists. As for Princess Zhaoyi..."
He glanced around and, seeing that no one was paying attention to him, whispered, "The Princess was taken away by the Prince of Nancheng, and her whereabouts are still unknown. However, I reckon she should still be in Nancheng."
"So that's how it is." Song Qiling lowered her eyelashes, staring blankly at a dent on the table, and murmured, "How could it have disappeared without a trace?"
The man placed two copper coins on the table, then stood up, cupped his hands in a fist and bowed to the young man opposite him, saying, "I've said everything I should and shouldn't have said, so you absolutely mustn't go to the yamen to report me."
Upon hearing this, Song Qiling nodded. Seeing the man flee as if he were running away, she got up dejectedly and walked back.
-
After the rain, the ground was still damp and muddy. I walked along the rain-soaked path when suddenly a pair of cloud-patterned black boots blocked my way.
Song Qiling turned slightly to the left to let others pass, but saw that the feet also followed to the left. She frowned slightly and then moved to the right, but the feet stuck to her like glue.
"Good disciple, why don't you bow to your master?" The man's deep, smiling voice rang out above him.
Song Qiling was struck dumb, and looked up in astonishment to see Chu Yue standing a step away, staring intently at her.
The indifferent attitude he showed towards her at the banquet last night has now turned around and put on a kind smile.
For a fleeting moment, she had the illusion that the person standing in front of her was still the same gentle and kind teacher who had treated her like a junior from many years ago.
Song Qiling's face turned cold. She lifted her foot to walk around Chu Yue, but suddenly her arm tightened around her. Looking down, she saw a hand firmly gripping her forearm.
"Let go!" she whispered sternly.
"How dare you show such disrespect to your master?" Chu Yue took a step forward, leaned close to her ear, and whispered, "My dear disciple, I've been looking for you everywhere."
Warm breath brushed against her ear, and a chill suddenly rose from her feet, quickly sweeping down her spine. Song Qiling glanced at the man so close to her and sneered, "Now that things have come to this, is there even the slightest bit of master-disciple affection between us?"
Chu Yue laughed and said, "Let's pretend that day never happened, and go back to being master and disciple as before, how about it?"
"Is that possible?" Song Qiling pulled away from his grip, rubbed her arm, and said with a displeased expression, "Stop with your pretense. I'm not a three-year-old anymore, and I won't believe your nonsense."
Chu Yue raised an eyebrow, his smile deepening. "So this is your reason for stealing the golden lock from my room?"
Upon hearing this, Song Qiling's breath hitched, and then she laughed angrily, "It's mine to begin with, how did it become 'stealing'?"
“But my disciple.” Chu Yue suddenly stopped smiling and reached out to touch the ends of her hair that fell to her neck. “You should know that Nancheng is a dangerous place, not a place for dragons to roam.”
Song Qiling turned her head to avoid the restless hand, and said impatiently, "So I'm just destined to be kept in the dark by you for the rest of my life, a lonely person without parents?"
Chu Yue tilted his head, looking puzzled: "Is it because your master has treated you badly, or have you been wronged all these years at the Heavenly Mystery Sect? Why have you suddenly become so disobedient, insisting on running away?"
"None of this matters." The hands hidden beneath his sleeves slowly clenched. "You still don't understand. I just want to find out the truth about what happened back then. You've tried to stop me in every way. Who would believe I'm not hiding something?"
"What I'm thinking, isn't it perfectly clear to you, my disciple?" Chu Yue put his hands behind his back and slowly approached the person in front of him, his wide sleeves swaying gently in the wind.
Her ethereal beauty in the painting was matched by her words that sent a chill down Song Qiling's spine: "I understood everything when you burned down my bedroom that day."
A look of bewilderment flashed in Song Qiling's eyes as she looked at the man in front of her in disbelief.
Although I was prepared to be honest with him, I still couldn't help but feel my heart pound when I heard him say those words.
He really did know everything.
Feeling uncertain and apprehensive, she was just about to be startled when a peddler pushed his cart by. The cart was filled with all sorts of trinkets, which attracted children who jumped and chased after it. The excitement brought her back to her senses, and she took a step back.
Chu Yue suddenly laughed. He looked at his disciple, who was dressed as a man, and his gaze swept over the triangular talisman pouch at her waist. He then suddenly changed the subject: "I heard that you stayed in that young man surnamed Gu's room last night?"
Upon hearing this, Song Qiling stiffened, then slowly frowned and said, "What's it to you?"
"That means you admit it." Chu Yue's hands behind his back paused slightly. His smile remained unchanged, but the false gentleness in his eyes had faded away like the receding tide.
He opened and closed his lips, saying each word clearly: "Does he know... your identity as a woman?"
Although the last syllable was deliberately lowered, it contained a chilling intent, like a venomous snake flicking its tongue before hunting, sending shivers down one's spine.
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