Chapter 9: Saving the Beauty

Madam Han's headaches showed no sign of improvement, so Liu Chuyan gently massaged her forehead. But today, her mind wandered, and Yunling noticed her distraction.

"Miss, your health hasn't fully recovered, and now you must endure the bumpy journey home. You must be uncomfortable. Your complexion looks pale—let me take over. Why don't you sit by the window and lift the curtain for some fresh air?"

Liu Chuyan was pondering the mountain pass outside, wondering where it lay; she needed to see for herself. Silently, she moved to the window, lifting the curtain. "All these mountains look the same, and so do the trees. Sitting inside the carriage, I can't recognize the way at all."

Songling, hearing this, leaned over. "Miss, they're actually different. It rained heavily not long ago—places with more trees are greener and damp, while those with fewer are yellowish. In some spots, the soil and rocks have loosened and tumbled down, left untended, quite messy."

"Loose soil and rocks? Could stones fall from above?" Liu Chuyan grew anxious at her words, recalling the torrential rains in Jinling half a month ago—so fierce they nearly flooded the whole city. Perhaps because of that, the large stones above had fallen, striking Madam Han's carriage.

Yunling glanced out, then smiled. "There was a light rain last night—probably nothing to worry about. But if the sun dries these mud gullies for a couple of days, the stones lose their grip and will certainly tumble down."

Liu Chuyan felt a bit relieved but still warned the two young coachmen to stay alert when crossing the mountain pass; if they heard anything unusual above, they must run at once, never linger.

The two coachmen responded respectfully, though they thought these young ladies were overly timid, worrying even about stones on the mountain. Yet, once they entered a pass and saw rocks that had slid down from the slope, they understood the concern was not unfounded and grew uneasy themselves.

Today was the twenty-fourth of September—nothing would happen, surely. Liu Chuyan pressed her wrist, the bruises appearing, her heart pounding with dread, though she forced herself to remain calm.

"Madam, there are hoofbeats ahead. Sounds like quite a few riders. The road through the pass is narrow and winding—if we're not careful, we might collide. Shall we move aside for safety?"

Liu Chuyan, too, heard the increasingly urgent hoofbeats. Seeing Madam Han frown and close her eyes, she declared decisively, "Then pick a stable spot to wait, and check above for any large stones."

"Yes, Miss."

"Miss, are you at odds with stones today? Every sentence mentions them," Yunling teased, wrapping Madam Han's shoulders as the carriage turned, afraid she'd slide, not even glancing at Liu Chuyan.

"I've heard that when stones fall, they move as fast as lightning, impossible to avoid. We'd best take care."

"Very well, Miss, always so thoughtful." Yunling shrugged, and just then the carriage halted. Songling took out a few pills, ground them in spring water brought from Cockcrow Temple that morning, and served them to Madam Han.

Liu Chuyan looked behind; the carriages of Madam Han's eldest and second daughters-in-law stopped as well. She heard the eldest lady scolding inside, then Rongshi said something, and the lady fell silent.

"Mother, I'll check on Grandmother," Han Shuwei said, coming from the second lady's carriage, waving to Liu Chuyan at the window.

"Go on, but come back soon."

Liu Chuyan had Songling open the door, waiting for her to come up.

"Ah, there's a colorful bird up there!" Han Shuwei heard the fluttering wings and looked up.

"Fourth Miss, watch out, stones!" A keen-eyed coachman saw soil dropping from above and shouted.

Han Shuwei saw the bird flit away in panic, then sand entered her eyes; she rubbed them, but the pain only worsened. Unable to see, she stepped forward instinctively.

"Shuwei, run!" The second lady hadn't yet closed her carriage door. She saw several stones, the size of bowls, slide from the slope—not fast, but deadly if struck.

"Mother, sand got into my eyes, I can't see!" Han Shuwei cried, flailing helplessly.

"This slope is too dangerous—we must move to the roadside," a coachman, ever alert from Liu Chuyan's earlier instructions, whipped the horses, steering the carriage toward the main road as the stones began to roll.

Liu Chuyan could only watch anxiously from the carriage, unable to help Han Shuwei, who was struck by several stones already. She screamed, jumping blindly, unable to see.

"Shuwei!" The stones at first were small, but now larger ones loosened. The second lady gasped and fainted.

Though the Han family had brought a dozen attendants, most were stunned or too far away to help.

"Shuwei..." Liu Chuyan never imagined that after saving Madam Han, Han Shuwei might lose her life instead, so shocked she was speechless.

"Ah, ah, ah!" Han Shuwei screamed thrice, struck hard at the waist, her feet leaving the ground, her cries growing more pitiful.

"Enough, stop screaming—you've been spared," came a voice.

Han Shuwei recognized the Prince of Xin, but his words were arrogant, leaving her uncomfortable. She pouted, saying nothing, rubbing her aching eyes as tears streamed down, unable to wash out the sand.

"I am your savior; not even a word of thanks?" Zhu Youchang chuckled, grasping her hand to stop her rubbing. "Don't wipe; you'll only worsen it. Let someone wash your eyes." He delivered Han Shuwei to Liu Chuyan's carriage. "Take care of her—don't let her run off again."

By now, Madam Han had recovered, and hearing it was the Prince of Xin, she had Liu Chuyan help her out. "This humble woman greets the Prince of Xin. Thank you for saving my granddaughter. I am truly grateful."

"It was nothing, Madam, no need for thanks." Zhu Youchang was polite and deferential to the elderly lady, offering her a gentle hand. "As for the road ahead, send two people to scout—proceed only when it's safe. If uncertain, take the small path; though narrow, it's bordered by rice fields, with no danger from stones. I have matters to attend to and will take my leave."

"Thank you, Prince of Xin, for the warning." As Madam Han finished, Zhu Youchang mounted his horse with a flourish and rode off, his guards swiftly circling her carriage and following, leaving only the sound of galloping hooves.

Yunling and Songling quickly washed Han Shuwei's eyes with spring water. Luckily, she had closed them in time, so the sand was easily washed out.

Han Shuwei kept herself composed, but once her vision returned and she was sure she was safe, the memory of the ordeal overwhelmed her, and she burst into tears.

The second lady had fainted and remained unconscious, so Liu Chuyan stayed with Han Shuwei in her carriage, tending to both.

Han Shuwei, upon entering, clung to her arm, sobbing and hiccupping, clearly shaken.

At this moment, the eldest lady emerged, anxious about dangers ahead and quickly decided to take the small path.

Madam Han considered briefly; though narrow, it was safer than the mountain pass and agreed, directing the carriages onto the small road.

No further incidents occurred. Anyone they met along the way would yield to the Duke of Wukang's household, never daring to challenge them, so their carriages passed safely.

Upon entering the inner city, with the main road three yards wide, the carriages moved smoothly, arriving unimpeded at the Duke of Wukang's residence.

To others, they'd only been gone five days. But to Liu Chuyan, she had been away for over three months. She'd spent seven years here, from age seven to fourteen, now nearing adulthood. Her most carefree childhood was spent in this mansion.

The Zhao family was a nightmare, the Residence of the Lord of Nine Thousand Years a hell, Zhou Baiqing's villa a den of torment. Only here was her haven. Though she had suffered here, compared to those loathsome places, it was nothing, and she had many fond memories.

Look—at the gate, the pair of lions: the left male, the right female. The male plays with an embroidered ball, the female caresses her cub. When no one was watching, she and Han Shuwei had climbed up to play with their curly manes; thinking back, it was reckless and unbelievable. Inside were four wooden screens, the flagstone path lined with tall ginkgo trees stretching to the main hall. She had played hide-and-seek beneath them, her laughter ringing like silver bells, still echoing in her ears. Behind the main hall was a large pond, with a waterside pavilion extending deep into the garden—Madam Han's retreat. The pond divided the estate, right for the first branch, left for the second. The east and west wings were connected by covered corridors through flower-hung gates. On the left of the retreat was a small courtyard, her Flower-Smile Pavilion.

She knew this layout better than her own body. Stepping lightly, she entered the Flower-Smile Pavilion first.

The furnishings were unchanged, the scents familiar. Two hibiscus trees stood guard by her window.

Below the window, canna lilies bloomed, red and yellow mingling, glowing warmly in the sunset. At the door, several pots of hollyhocks—gifts from Madam Han on her birthday last year. Han Shuwei had two pots as well, but hers bloomed a month longer. Now, upon returning, they greeted her with smiling faces.

"Miss, the hollyhocks have grown so well," Songling said, tidying the room and noticing Liu Chuyan staring at the flowers.

Liu Chuyan awoke from her reverie and entered slowly, her gaze lingering.

In the northwest corner stood a large bed, flanked by rosewood screens. At the head, a pair of treasure cabinets; on the bed, an autumn quilt she'd embroidered herself with hibiscus flowers. In the eastern warm alcove, she could faintly see two long tables, simply set with papers and books—her favorite spot for whiling away the hours.

"Miss, is the embroidery frame blocking your way? Why stand there rather than sit?" Songling had a young maid clean the table and chairs, brewed hot tea, and coaxed Liu Chuyan to sit. "After such a long journey and fright, you must be exhausted. There won't be a banquet at Madam Han's tonight—rest a while. I'll go to the kitchen and make some treats to soothe you."

Liu Chuyan nodded, bending to examine the embroidery frame. She had intended to embroider a landscape, but only half was done—mountains without water. Something was missing. Ah, stones. Let the mountains be formed of stone, complemented by clear streams.

Thinking thus, she laughed quietly—indeed, today she was at odds with stones. Since that was so, she would add a bird. But birds in landscapes were not easy to embroider; she would study them slowly.

Once finished, she would give it to her grandaunt, to use as a cover for her chair.