Cousin

Since ancient times, the lands beneath the Emperor’s feet have always been the most prosperous in the realm.

Donglin City was the center of power in the Great Ye Dynasty. At its heart stood the ever-bright Changming Palace within the forbidden court, from which over a hundred crisscrossing lanes stretched in all directions. The city hosted two main markets: the Elephant Market and the Horse Market.

The Horse Market served as the distribution hub for goods arriving from outside the capital. Shops of every kind lined its streets, offering everything from fabrics and teas to local specialties and exotic imports. The nearby residences were mostly occupied by wealthy merchants.

The Elephant Market, in contrast, was filled with teahouses, bookshops, taverns, and pleasure pavilions, surrounded on all sides by the mansions of high-ranking officials and nobility.

The Yu family resided on the outskirts of the Elephant Market, in Chongde Lane.

Now, as the Waking of Insects arrived, the yang energy began to rise.

The weather vacillated between chill and warmth, making it the perfect time to drink millet and red date wine and to eat pears stored since the previous year. Pears were rare delicacies at this season, yet the Yu family had ample stores—so much so that even the lowest servant could savor their sweet, crisp flavor on this day.

And for one simple reason: Yu Liu Zhu, the only legitimate daughter of the family head, Yu Zhiheng, was born precisely on the Waking of Insects sixteen years ago.

On this day, Yu Liu Zhu was holding a banquet at her own pavilion, Liufang, inviting only young ladies of notable families with whom she was on friendly terms. Silk curtains fluttered in the breeze, wine was poured, and the air was fragrant with youthful beauty. Amidst a sea of pinks, greens, and yellows, the splash of red was the most dazzling of all.

The girl in red, with ink-black hair adorned with gold and jade, possessed the face of a lotus blossom and a beauty mark at her brow, where a begonia flower ornament was placed. Her delicate features and ethereal aura made her the center of attention as she exchanged words with those around her.

“This year’s pears are even sweeter than last,” one maid whispered. “I heard the Madam replanted new trees at the country estate a few years ago, and these are the fruits. Madam and the Master truly dote on the eldest young lady. If only I could be reborn into such a household in my next life, all the hardships of this one would be worth it.”

“Don’t spout nonsense,” her companion scolded. “If the Madam hears you, you’ll be punished. Someone like the eldest young lady is beyond our reach. Even those born in the same mansion on the same day as her live worlds apart—just look at the cousin.”

“Isn’t that the truth? No one knows what fate befell the cousin. She’s been missing part of her soul since childhood, always vacant and dull. Her eyes are like two deep, black holes—so dark it frightens people. If it weren’t for the old madam’s constant watch, something terrible would have happened years ago.”

“All the watching in the world can’t help. Haven’t you heard? The cousin somehow wandered over here today and even fell into the water.”

The two maids speaking stood across from the pavilion. Judging by their attire, they were second-class servants in the household. The cousin they mentioned was the daughter of Yu Zhiheng’s younger sister, Yu Qingxue.

Eighteen years ago, Yu Qingxue married Su Qi He, the son of Censor Su. Barely a year later, the Su family became embroiled in a succession struggle, siding with the Second Prince. When the prince’s rebellion failed, he took his own life, and all his supporters were punished.

The Su family was stripped of their property and exiled. Only through the Yu family’s efforts did Yu Qingxue and Su Qi He manage to divorce successfully.

Shortly after returning home, Yu Qingxue discovered she was pregnant. Her mother, the old Madam Xie, pleaded with her to end the pregnancy, fearing that the child would bring trouble and that only by letting go of the past could she start anew. Yet Yu Qingxue was determined to keep the child, and so it was that, on the very same Waking of Insects sixteen years ago, she gave birth.

Mother and daughter had since lived a quiet, secluded life in the most remote and tranquil courtyard of the entire estate. The bamboo groves swayed like a green sea, and pines and cypresses interlaced like emerald parasols. This corner, far from the world’s noise, seemed more a mountain retreat than a city dwelling, aptly named “Peaceful Heart,” as written on the plaque above the gate.

Inside the courtyard, a maid knelt on the ground, soaking wet and trembling pitifully. Outside, two matrons stood guard. The elder wore a worried frown and glanced at the maid with sympathy; the younger, her hair sleekly tied, kept her gaze lowered, lost in thought.

The room was filled with the scents of sandalwood and medicine. The furnishings were simple, devoid of any luxurious ornament, giving the place an air of oppressive stillness. Only the plate of pears on the table offered a touch of vitality.

By the bedside stood two figures: Madam Xie and Yu Qingxue.

Madam Xie came from a family of scholars. Widowed young, she had raised her son and daughter alone. Fortunately, her son, Yu Zhiheng, was gifted in his studies, passing the county and provincial exams with distinction and now holding the post of Scholar at the Library Pavilion.

Though her background was humble, her features and bearing were remarkable, and she possessed an innate dignity. Even in advanced years, she had not lost her grace. Her dark embroidered robes made her appear all the more stately and composed.

“Didn’t the physician say her life is not in danger? Why hasn’t she woken yet?”

Beneath the brocade quilt, the girl looked almost lifeless. Thick bangs covered much of her brow; her face was small and pointed, her skin deathly pale. Even with her eyes closed and her breath nearly imperceptible, her delicate features could not hide an innate radiance.

“Mother, Ali will be all right. If anything happens to her, how could I possibly go on?” Yu Qingxue, voice thick with grief, was weak and unsteady, her hands trembling as she gently touched her daughter’s face. “Ali, wake up, please listen to me—wake up, my child.”

She wore plain clothes and no makeup, her hair simply coiled with a single jade pin, yet her beauty could not be concealed. Years spent in prayer and vegetarian living had left her imbued with the scent of incense. Aside from a string of prayer beads on her wrist, she wore no other adornment.

Though not yet old, there was a palpable air of weariness about her, one that moved even those closest to her to sorrow, especially her mother, Madam Xie.

Seeing her daughter like this, Madam Xie felt as though her heart were being torn to pieces by knives. She could not hold back and pulled her daughter into an embrace, weeping softly.

“Ali has always been different from other children,” she whispered. “I’ve watched over her, fearful every moment she might come to harm. But the one time I let my guard down, she wandered to the East Courtyard. It’s so lively there today—she must have been drawn by the sound of music, running heedlessly until she fell into the water…”

The girl on the bed remained motionless, utterly unresponsive.

After a long pause, Yu Qingxue wiped her tears and said, “Mother, Ali is so gentle and obedient. She would never leave me behind—she will wake up, I know she will.”

Madam Xie thought of her granddaughter’s empty, silent eyes and her heart ached even more. How could this child be gentle and obedient? The high monk had said she was missing a soul, her every action different from others.

“Qingxue, if something truly happens to Ali… We can’t keep hiding this from your brother and sister-in-law.”

Yu Qingxue was taken aback, then bit her lip and knelt before her mother.

Madam Xie could not bear to see her like this and hurriedly helped her up, full of pity.

Tears streaming down, Yu Qingxue pleaded, “Mother, it’s my fault—I failed to care for Ali, and I deserve to die a thousand times over. It’s all my fault. Tang’er’s marriage to the Mu family is already settled, just waiting for the formal announcement. If we reveal the truth about her parentage now, will the Mu family still accept her?”

“But the child—” Madam Xie’s face showed her reluctance as she looked again at the girl on the bed.

This child resembled Qingxue. When Qingxue was her age, she was in the prime of her youth, admired by all the young men of the capital. Both granddaughters of the Yu family—yet how different their fates.

“Qingxue, you said at the start that after a few years, once your brother and sister-in-law grew fond of Tang’er, you would switch them back. Now sixteen years have passed in a blink. If anything happens to Ali, how can I possibly explain to your brother and sister-in-law?”

“Ali will be fine, Mother, I beg you. Be kind to the end—once Tang’er is safely married into the Marquis’s household, we’ll tell the truth and let Ali return. Please?”

“But what if—”

“Mother, Ali is already like this—there’s no hope for a good marriage for her. Surely you wouldn’t sacrifice Tang’er’s happiness for her sake?”

Madam Xie hesitated, looking at the unconscious girl, torn by conflicting emotions.

Yu Qingxue was awash with tears, which fell upon her prayer beads—a sight that would break anyone’s heart. Anyone who had known her in the past would scarcely recognize her now.

Sobbing, she choked out, “Mother, my fate is ill-starred—there’s nothing left for me in this life. I ask for nothing more, only that my daughter not be burdened by her parents’ past, that she may have what was meant for her—a life free of sorrow, married to a good man, and forever blessed.”

It was a painful dilemma; Madam Xie, thinking of her daughter’s troubled marriage, could only sigh regretfully. If she had chosen more carefully back then, perhaps things would have turned out differently.

“Qingxue, it’s your mother who has failed you.”

“Mother, please don’t say that. This is all my fate.”

Mother and daughter clung to each other, both weeping bitterly.

The sorrow in the room pressed down heavily on every heart.

After an unknown length of time, the girl on the bed stirred with a faint moan. Her long, curled eyelashes trembled, then slowly opened to reveal eyes full of confusion. She sat upright with a start.

Her gaze was fixed and unblinking as she looked at them, meeting Yu Qingxue’s eyes.

Yu Qingxue’s heart leapt. Coming to her senses, she hurried joyfully to her side. “Ali, you’re awake! You nearly scared me to death!”

But the girl seemed unmoved by her mother’s tears and delight. Her pitch-black eyes showed no trace of human emotion, yet even so, her beauty was extraordinary. Even with her brow half-covered by hair, she was breathtaking.

“Who are you?”

Yu Qingxue froze, then widened her eyes in shock and covered her mouth. “Ali, what’s wrong with you?”

Shen Qinglu was wondering the same—what was happening to her?

Was this a dream or not? It was absurd and surreal.

Everything she saw—doors, windows, furniture—was made of wood, all unfamiliar and ancient in style. And the woman before her, whose face bore a faint resemblance to her own, evoked not a trace of warmth, only an inexplicable sense of unease.

This was not a dream.

For the dead do not dream.

“Who am I?”

Madam Xie sensed something was amiss, a flicker of hope in her eyes. “Ali, have you regained your senses?”

The high monk had once said that if ever the child’s soul returned, her mind would recover.

Shen Qinglu’s eyes moved, slowly turning to Madam Xie. The once empty gaze suddenly lit up. “Grandmother.”

At first, Madam Xie could not react; then, overcome with joy, she wept with happiness. “Ali, what did you call me? You recognize me? You’re well again, aren’t you?”

“I… My name is Ali.”

Shen Qinglu murmured, half to herself.

Another new name, she thought, as she slowly lowered her gaze.