The azalea had not yet died.

Time flowed by like the eastern river, surging endlessly, never to return... In the blink of an eye, three days had passed. Chen Yage walked alone in the courtyard, gazing up at the waning moon and sighing deeply.

“May we live long, and share the beauty of the moon even a thousand miles apart!” Chen Yage recited softly, chuckling at herself for being so sentimental, so foolish. She picked a night-blooming jasmine beneath the moonlight, lowered her head to inhale its fragrance, and was instantly enveloped by a familiar scent that brought peace to her soul.

It was the scent of the purple umbrella flower. Chen Yage’s thoughts drifted to Chaoyun—the courtyard once ablaze with purple umbrella blossoms, and to Dujuan, that radiant, sunlit girl. But now, with everything changed and everyone gone, where could she find the laughter and joy of days past?

Thinking of Dujuan, the memory of her saving Chen Yage replayed vividly, as if it had happened only yesterday. Suddenly, Chen Yage stood up and ran desperately toward Chaoyun’s house. The pale moonlight spilled over the tranquil night, casting a lonely, desolate atmosphere.

Chen Yage stood on the patch of earth where purple umbrella flowers had once flourished, silent and contemplative.

Suddenly, hurried footsteps sounded. Chen Yage remembered that Chaoyun’s entire family had met a tragic end; who would come here in the dead of night? She immediately hid in a corner.

In the dim moonlight, Chen Yage faintly discerned a woman in red, moving stealthily into the courtyard. Her face was veiled, preventing Chen Yage from seeing her features, but she remained alert, fearing exposure that might bring disaster. She knew well the woman in red’s prowess—even Li Bai was no match for her. Now, all she could do was avoid confrontation if possible, and if not, face whatever came.

The woman in red seemed fond of the purple umbrella flowers. She bent down and inhaled their fragrance, lingering for a long time, savoring the fresh, invigorating scent.

After a while, the woman in red slowly entered the house, carrying a basket. Chen Yage’s suspicions deepened: Could she be here to burn offerings for Chaoyun and her father? No, it couldn’t be that simple.

Cautiously, Chen Yage followed. In the darkness, she heard a rumbling sound as a wall adorned with a Guanyin painting slowly shifted to the left. The woman in red slipped inside. Not daring to alert her, Chen Yage waited silently outside, watching and listening.

About half the time it takes for incense to burn later, the woman in red emerged. Once she had gone, Chen Yage entered the house. The Guanyin painting remained in place, but the secret room beckoned to her like an ancient summons.

Chen Yage examined the room carefully. A celadon vase on the table caught her eye. She gently picked it up, and with a thunderous noise, the wall with the Guanyin painting slowly moved to the left. Chen Yage was overjoyed, yet hesitated—sometimes, ignorance meant safety. But anything related to the woman in red, no matter how small, was irresistibly alluring to her.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and entered. At first, the faint moonlight allowed her to see a little, but as she moved further in, the darkness deepened. Suddenly, a voice echoed in the gloom: “I told you, I will not agree!”

Chen Yage froze, holding her breath and not daring to move. From the voice, she realized there was a woman in the secret room, apparently negotiating with the woman in red.

“Reeds lush and green, white dew turns to frost. The one I seek is by the water’s edge. I follow upstream, the path is long and winding. I follow downstream, she seems to be in the heart of the river. Reeds thick and thriving, white dew not yet dried. The one I seek is by the river’s shore. I follow upstream, the path is steep and arduous. I follow downstream, she seems to be on an islet in the water. Reeds gathered, white dew still lingers. The one I seek is at the river’s end. I follow upstream, the path turns right. I follow downstream, she seems to be on a sandbar in the river.” The melodious singing drifted through the air like a heavenly chorus.

Involuntarily, Chen Yage cried out, “Chaoyun!”

The woman stopped singing at once, and Chen Yage sensed something was amiss. The voice sounded less like Chaoyun and more like Dujuan. A chill ran through her; she didn’t believe in ghosts, yet she could not mistake Dujuan’s voice. Was she imagining things because she missed Dujuan too much?

Chen Yage fell silent, and so did the woman in the secret room. After a long pause, the woman sighed softly, “Even now, there are so many things I don’t understand. No matter what I do, I can never satisfy you. Am I really so inadequate?”

Each word struck Chen Yage’s heart like a hammer. Tears streaming down her face, she said, “Dujuan, is it really you?”

The woman in the darkness was indeed Dujuan. She exclaimed emotionally, “Yage, how did you get here?”

Chen Yage slowly approached Dujuan, who stood on a circular platform, her hands and feet shackled with iron chains. She wore white, her long hair disheveled. Chen Yage’s steps were hesitant; she couldn’t tell if Dujuan before her was human or ghost—perhaps more ghost than human.

To test whether Dujuan was alive or a spirit, Chen Yage cautiously asked, “Dujuan, why are you here?”

“It was my mother who locked me in here!” Dujuan’s voice quivered with tears.

“Yueji?” Chen Yage asked in confusion. How could Yueji, her mother, have imprisoned her? Who was the deceased then? Why would Yueji do this? What was her purpose?

Dujuan sobbed, “Yage, you must leave, quickly! If my mother finds you, it will be terrible. Go, leave this place now!”

“You said you wouldn’t agree—what is it you won’t agree to?” Chen Yage changed the topic, stepping forward to examine the chains. They were as thick as a finger, and appeared difficult to unlock.

“Yage, please go, just pretend you were never here!”

“Do you know, I always thought you were dead? That night after I returned from Moon Lake and showed you the jade pendant, the next day we found your body in your room.” As Chen Yage spoke, she searched for a weak point in the chains, then suddenly stopped and said, “The woman in red is Yueji, isn’t she? The one who just came was Yueji, right?”

Chen Yage was agitated. Dujuan hesitated, and Chen Yage pressed on, “How much longer will you cover for her? That jade pendant belonged to Yueji, didn’t it? And was Yueji the murderer who killed Chaoyun?”

“No, no, it wasn’t—she’s not my mother...”

“Then do you believe it was me?”

“I...” Dujuan struggled to speak, closing her eyes in anguish. “Yage, please go. I’m sorry, she’s my mother!”

Love in the Tang Dynasty: The Poet Immortal, Please Stay! 041_Love in the Tang Dynasty: The Poet Immortal, Please Stay! Full free reading_041 Dujuan Not Dead Updated!