Jiang Ruan, accompanied by Aunt Yang, stepped outside and asked, “Auntie, do you have any idea why the Empress Dowager seems so upset?”
The Yi De Empress Dowager appeared to be in low spirits, showing rare signs of age and fatigue. Jiang Ruan didn’t believe that the Empress Dowager was mourning the death of Ye You. After all, the Empress Dowager, known for her decisive nature, had shown a strong distaste for Ye You in the past. It was her imperial decree that had sent Ye You out of the palace to establish his own residence.
Aunt Yang responded with a smile, “Princess, perhaps the Empress Dowager has been feeling a bit tired recently and appears somewhat worn out. She should recover in a few days.”
Jiang Ruan returned the perfunctory response with a slight smile, “Is that so? Then I’ll rely on Aunt Yang to take care of the Empress Dowager.”
“I am not worthy of the Princess’s concern,” replied Aunt Yang, an old servant of the Yi De Empress Dowager who held a high regard for Jiang Ruan. Jiang Ruan had once risked her life to save the Empress Dowager but never exploited this fact. Through their interactions, she had learned what to ask and what not to, proving that the most suitable for survival in the palace are intelligent individuals like her. Aunt Yang looked at Jiang Ruan with a hint of admiration in her eyes.
Jiang Ruan slightly lowered her gaze; indeed, the Yi De Empress Dowager had her secrets, and Jiang Ruan was not yet close enough to share them. However, she wasn’t interested in the secrets of others in this world. If the Empress Dowager chose not to disclose, she wouldn’t probe further. Today, she had more pressing matters to attend to.
“Aunt Yang, there have been many unsettling events in the mansion recently, and I’m quite anxious. I’ve heard that the Buddhist hall in the palace can purify the mind and calm the spirit, and I would like to go and listen to the scriptures.”
Ever since the National Teacher entered the palace a few years ago, the Emperor had built a Buddhist hall for convenience. The ladies of the palace, who were sincere in their pursuit of Buddha, often went there to listen to the scriptures, a practice that pleased the Emperor.
Aunt Yang was also aware of the events that transpired on the day of Jiang Li’s grand wedding, and she sighed deeply. The Princess of Hong’an was both appropriate in her actions and intelligent, but it was unfortunate that she was born into the Jiang family. Despite having the same father, the difference between the daughters was substantial. With these thoughts, she smiled and said, “Princess, are you referring to the small Buddhist hall? It’s located at the end of the South Garden, I can guide you there.”
Jiang Ruan responded with a smile, “Thank you, Auntie.”
The scripture hall in the palace, situated at the end of the South Garden, was renovated to provide a serene environment with fresh air. This location, a rare piece of blessed land within the palace, was once considered by the previous emperor for the construction of a courtyard. However, he abandoned the idea for fear of disrupting the palace’s Feng Shui. Now, this blessed land has been repurposed to house a Buddhist hall, clearly indicating the high status of the hall’s owner within the palace.
Aunt Yang escorted Jiang Ruan to the scripture hall and exchanged a few words with the young monk in the Buddhist hall before Jiang Ruan entered. Inside the Buddha hall stood a golden Buddha statue. The construction of a Buddhist hall within the palace is likely a historical first. An old monk, clad in a red cassock, sat in quiet meditation, a string of dark Buddha beads in his hand. His eyes were closed in silent contemplation. The Buddhist hall was filled with wisps of smoke, exuding an ethereal aura.
The young monk approached the old monk and whispered a few words. Upon opening his eyes and seeing the person before him, the old monk appeared slightly startled, his kind and gentle expression revealing a hint of barely noticeable panic.
After listening to his master, the young monk approached Jiang Ruan and said, “Benefactor, the master invites you to the inner room for scripture teaching.”
Jiang Ruan put her hands together and bowed to the young monk. Seeing this, Aunt Yang offered a slight smile. Jiang Ruan then followed the young monk into the inner room.
Inside the room, there was a small blue wooden table. On the table was an inscribed bamboo tube and a few sutras. The old monk walked into the room and sat down at one side of the wooden table. Jiang Ruan also sat down in front of the table. The sound of novice monks chanting sutras drifted in from outside. The renovated Buddha hall had an ancient and elegant atmosphere, quite Buddha-like.
Jiang Ruan smiled slightly, “It has been years since we parted. Congratulations to the great master on achieving your wish.”
Hui Jue’s breath caught in his throat as he raised his head to look at the person before him. The young lady in fiery red robes was more stunningly beautiful than three years ago, with an indescribable glamour. Yet her eyes were ice-cold, her gentle smile seeming to contain a hint of mocking coldness.
He pressed his palms together and bowed his head humbly, “Amitabha Buddha.”
“Is the great master worshipping Buddha or me?” Jiang Ruan casually picked up the bamboo inscribed tube from the table and gently shook it, the wooden inscriptions knocking against each other making a sound that made one’s heart race. Knock after knock, like repeated strikes on Hui Jue’s heart.
For a long time, the national preceptor who seemed as devoid of human emotions as a sage monk, beads of sweat appeared on his forehead again after three years. He looked at Jiang Ruan and said slowly, “The benefactor is the chosen one of Buddha. This monk obeys the will of Buddha.”
Jiang Ruan smiled slightly, “The great master is indeed a high monk.”
Hui Jue did not speak. Three years ago, someone had delivered a letter to him, saying it was from Jiang Ruan. The letter detailed major and minor events that would happen over the next three years. Ever meticulous, Hui Jue did not believe it at first. But as time passed day by day, he was astonished to find that the events written in the letter indeed occurred one by one. Hui Jue believed everything written on that thin sheet of paper. He went into seclusion among the common people, and his reputation as a high monk eventually reached the palace, where the emperor summoned him. Relying on that single thin letter and Hui Jue’s persuasive eloquence, within three years, everyone in the great Jinzhao dynasty knew of the emergence of a sage monk named Hui Jue whose every prediction came true. Step-by-step, he eventually attained the position of national preceptor.
Hui Jue raised his head to look at Jiang Ruan. Three years ago, Jiang Ruan had told him that she would grant him unlimited glory and status, allowing him to become superior to others. Now looking back, it had all come true one by one. To Hui Jue, Jiang Ruan was an existence that inspired some fear. How could there be someone in this world who could make prophecies? But Jiang Ruan was such a mysterious person. Hui Jue knew there was no such thing as a free lunch – Jiang Ruan would not help him for nothing, and one day she would make him repay the favor. Now that Jiang Ruan had returned, it was time for her to claim this recompense from him.
Jiang Ruan smiled faintly, “Now that the great master has become the national preceptor, the young lord’s illness must have improved somewhat.”
Hui Jue was startled. His son was his lifeline. Currently, he and his son addressed each other as master and disciple, and the emperor placed utmost trust in him, which had made it easier for him to request the imperial physicians’ services. The palace never lacked precious medicinal ingredients, and his son’s condition had gradually improved – he was no longer as frail as before. His hands clutching the prayer beads trembled slightly as he said, “What does the benefactor seek?”
“Great master, I do not believe in Buddha, so there is no need to preach the sutras to me,” said Jiang Ruan softly, yet Hui Jue felt the weight of her words. With such confrontation, she was demanding he make his intentions clear. Gritting his teeth, Hui Jue said, “I am willing to toil like a dog or horse for the princess.”
Jiang Ruan loosened her grip, letting the bamboo inscribed tube fall onto the table. She drew out all the wooden inscriptions and carefully selected one, placing it before Hui Jue. “What inscription is this?” she asked.
Hui Jue was dazed for a moment before replying, “The lowest rank inscription…what is the princess seeking?”
“This inscription is not for seeking something for myself,” Jiang Ruan said calmly. “It is for seeking a household matter, which is also a national matter.”
A household matter that is a national matter – that naturally referred to the imperial household, the inner palace affairs. Hui Jue lifted his head in puzzlement, only to hear the gentle voice continue, “This princess senses an ominous black air lingering in the eastern palace, fearing there may be some entity obstructing His Majesty. Please trouble the great master to perform a ritual to uncover this serpent demon.”
(End of chapter)
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