Chapter 15: Entering the Dream to Peer into the Heart

With the news of Zhou Jiulang’s death at the abandoned mansion, a dark cloud seemed to hang over the Su family. The matriarch and Lady Qin were once again gripped by fearful anxiety.

Su Sanlang had lain motionless on his bed for more than a day and a half. They had forced countless bowls of medicinal broth down his throat, yet there was no sign of improvement.

Under these circumstances, it was no longer wise to summon any imperial physicians from the palace. There was a risk that Zhou Xing might catch them off guard, leaving them unable to defend themselves. After all, Su Sanlang had once enjoyed mingling with Zhou Jiulang and several sons of the Guo and Hou families, engaging in reckless revelry. Now, with several of those companions dead, leaving only Su Sanlang alive, suspicion was inevitable.

Su Qing was at a loss, pacing back and forth in Su Sanlang’s courtyard. Suddenly, he heard the faint melody of a flute, drifting and clear, evoking a soothing and calming sensation.

“Huh? Where is that flute coming from?”

He asked, curiosity pulling his gaze toward the northernmost direction.

The Wisteria Courtyard.

It was also the residence of that child.

A young servant hurried over, handing Su Qing a folded paper shaped like a small boat. “Young Master, this was sent by the little maid called Ashu from the Wisteria Courtyard. She said it must be shown to you.”

Su Qing nodded and unfolded the paper boat, revealing a line of elegant handwriting: “I can cure Su Sanlang’s illness! But I have one request—please come over and speak with me, Great Uncle!”

Su Qing’s heart jolted. He suddenly recalled that his second brother had learned some medicine after returning from his travels. He had even entered the palace once to treat the late emperor’s eye disease. Moreover, the brother’s wife seemed to possess some skill as well; the brother once respectfully referred to her as “Master.”

Pocketing the note, Su Qing followed the sound of the flute to the Wisteria Courtyard. There, beneath a flowering crabapple tree, stood Murong Huan dressed in a white robe, playing the flute. The blossoms resembled a streak of red clouds at dawn, brilliantly radiant, making the child’s figure seem ethereal and distant.

The robe appeared faded, as though it had been worn for a long time.

“Great Uncle is here!”

Murong Huan’s call shattered Su Qing’s guilty reverie.

He quickly approached with a smile. “You’ve endured much hardship here at the estate. The festival is approaching—I’ll have your great aunt sew you some new clothes. Tell me what styles you like, and I’ll pass it along.”

Murong Huan replied, “No need. I’ll have Ashu make them for me. As long as there’s money, that’s fine.”

Su Qing smiled awkwardly and produced a purse of coins from his sleeve, handing it over.

“Here are ten taels of silver. It’s not much, but take it for now. I’ll make sure your great aunt gives you your monthly allowance regularly.”

Ashu covered her mouth in surprise, but Murong Huan said coldly, “No, Great Uncle. I invited you here because I need your help, not money. I can cure Su Sanlang’s illness, so you can consider this a transaction.”

“Uh!”

Su Qing awkwardly withdrew his hand. “What do you want my help with? Just say it.”

Murong Huan’s expression grew serious. “I want to be entered into the Su family genealogy—not as a girl, but as a young master, to continue my father’s line. Also, I want to enter the National Academy.”

Su Qing was shocked. He glanced around and saw the servant still guarding the entrance. He promptly ordered the servant to close and guard the door, forbidding anyone from eavesdropping.

“The first part is easier to discuss. Whether as a girl or a young master, we can manage. But how do you expect to enter the National Academy? You’re a girl—you can’t cause such a commotion!”

“If I’m recorded in the Su family genealogy as a young master, why can’t I enter the National Academy? In the future, you can tell others that Su Minghe has a son, or that I’m your adopted son from the second branch.”

At this, Murong Huan added, “I’ll dress as a boy and won’t trouble you, Great Uncle.”

This was no small matter. If it were discovered that a girl disguised as a boy entered the National Academy, it would be a scandal. And if she became an official later, it would be even more problematic.

Thinking of officialdom, Su Qing’s eyes lit up. “Why do you have such an idea?”

Murong Huan looked at him. “Do you want to know what my father did at the National Academy back then? And why he left?”

“You—”

“Great Uncle, please think it over carefully. Su Sanlang’s life may hang by a thread tonight!”

Su Qing frowned in deep thought. Hearing this, he looked anxiously at Murong Huan, secretly pondering: This child had grown up without the reckless behavior she showed after losing her parents. But why were her thoughts so extraordinary?

Could she really cure Sanlang’s illness? How could a fifteen-year-old child’s medical skills compare to those of the experienced Doctor Mo?

“Young Master, the girl can truly heal. On our way back, Ashu even cured the illness of Lady Wu, the fifth daughter of the Wang family!” Ashu said excitedly.

Murong Huan cut her off coldly, “Ashu, enough!”

Su Qing was even more puzzled and surprised. The matter of Lady Wu of the Wang family had recently become a hot topic in Luoyang: after attempting suicide by jumping into a lake, she was declared dead, coffined and buried. The Wang family even held a funeral. Yet the next day, rumors spread that she had come back to life—tales of resurrection abounded.

This incident was closely connected to the Zhou Jiulang affair.

Zhou Jiulang forcibly wanted to marry Lady Wu, who refused and attempted suicide. Now, the one who tried to force the marriage was dead, while the one who tried to die had survived?

Su Qing sensed a hint of conspiracy.

Ashu’s words pulled him back to reality.

“You said Lady Wu was cured by Ashu?”

Ashu glanced at Murong Huan uncertainly, then lowered her head in silence.

At that moment, an anxious shout came from outside the gate: “Young Master, Madam’s attendant Jiang Yü reports that Sanlang is near death. She asks if you want to summon an imperial physician?”

Why summon an imperial physician?

Su Qing no longer hesitated. He grabbed Murong Huan and hurried out.

“Ashu, then try your best! Sanlang’s illness rests with you!”

...

When Murong Huan was politely invited to Yunxiang Courtyard by Su Qing, Lady Qin’s eyes blazed with fury.

“Why bring her here? If not for her, Sanlang wouldn’t be bedridden like this! Tell her to leave immediately! Far away—never appear before me again.”

Su Qing was angry. “Ignorant woman, the one who should leave now is you. I brought someone to see Sanlang. You must leave this room at once!”

“What did you say? My son is dying! Am I not allowed to stay by his bedside till the end? You want me to leave?”

Lady Qin wept bitterly, mocking, “Where is your expert? I told you to go to the Imperial Medical Office and bring Doctor Shen to see him—you refused. In your eyes, Sanlang is a worthless scoundrel who disgraces the Su family. You’re eager for him to die, aren’t you?”

Su Qing found it futile to argue with Lady Qin and feared angering Murong Huan. Just as he was at a loss, Murong Huan stepped forward.

“The doctor you asked for is me. Please, Madam, leave first...”

Before Murong Huan finished, Lady Qin’s eyes widened, then she burst into anguished sobs.

“Su Qing, what do you mean by this? You want your son dead quickly, and you’ve brought this ill omen to end his life yourself?”

Ashu could no longer hold back. “Madam, my lady truly came to treat Sanlang’s illness...”

“Silence! Master speaks. You, lowly maid, have no right to interrupt!”

Lady Qin’s voice had just fallen when Murong Huan’s expression darkened suddenly. His ink-black eyes became unfathomably deep, brimming with murderous intent that chilled the heart.

His demeanor was exactly as it had been eight years ago when he stabbed Lady Qiu with scissors.

Lady Qin instantly dared not speak further.

“Ashu, calm down!” Ashu sensed the danger and urged Murong Huan to regain composure. Only then did he withdraw the murderous aura.

“Now, will you leave?”

Murong Huan asked again. Lady Qin trembled, glanced at her son lying on the bed, and slunk out of the room.

...

After everyone left, Murong Huan instructed Ashu to light the incense burner. She placed a wooden puppet beside it and extracted a fragrant herb from within, adding it to the incense.

Gradually, thick white smoke rose like a falling waterfall, swirling and folding. Under Murong Huan’s guidance, the smoke flowed like a clear stream, entering Su Sanlang’s nostrils.

“Ashu, is Sanlang really this frightened? Can fright cause such a condition? Isn’t that too extreme?”

Ashu looked at the figure on the bed, eyes wide open yet motionless, chest only slightly rising and falling, barely alive, and found it hard to believe.

“Those with a clear conscience need not fear ghosts knocking at night. It wasn’t me or her who frightened him—it was himself.”

“Oh! Is Ashu going to enter his dreams and peer into his heart again?”

Ashu’s curiosity showed.

“Yes!”

...

Su Sanlang was trapped in a nightmare’s terror. In his dream, he, Zhou Jiulang, Hou Wulang, and Guo Liulang entered a remote mansion. Several young girls knelt on the ground, dressed in thin gauze, shivering in the cold wind.

They all seemed no older than fourteen, some even younger—around ten years old.

“They’re all virgin girls, and good families’ daughters at that. A few are noble ladies—spoils taken during the raid. Look, isn’t it fine?”

“Jiulang, that’s too much. Noble ladies, even if their homes were raided, would be sent to the court attendants, like Shangguan the attendant, or at worst to the entertainment bureau, still under the Temple of Rites’ supervision. How could they fall into Jiulang’s hands?”

“My father leads the raid; demanding two female captives privately is no big deal. You want to join in or not? If you don’t dare, then get lost!”

Su Sanlang bowed hastily, terrified. “Jiulang, my father is strict. If I’m not home by the first quarter of the You hour, I’ll face... family punishment. I have to go!”

“Such a coward! Afraid of a woman! Get lost! Far away!”

Zhou Jiulang cursed, and just as Su Sanlang tried to flee, he was caught again.

“Sanlang, you wouldn’t dare tell anyone about this, right?”

“No, no. Even if Su San had a hundred guts, he wouldn’t say a word against Jiulang.”

Zhou Jiulang laughed heartily, slapping Su Sanlang’s face several times.

“Go on, get out! Even if you told someone, who’d believe it? Anyone who dares speak, I’ll have my father annihilate their whole family!”

“Hahaha... What are you waiting for? Throw this coward out. We’ll have our fun...”